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." Flint was fully awake
now. He grabbed the Aghar's bony shoulders to keep him
from jumping up and down. "How many were - are you
sure it isn't just a patrol?"
Nomscul slammed his hands on his hip bones and sniffed,
tossing his head at the insult to his intelligence.
Flint reluctantly rolled away from Perian and pushed
himself off the bed. Turning his back, he yanked his pants
up to his stomach, stuffing his long blue-green tunic into the
drawstring waist.
The mountain dwarf was waking up more slowly. "It
can't be the Theiwar troops - it's too early," she protested,
stabbing the sleep from her eyes with her fists. "It's only
been a couple of days since the attack in the Big Sky Room;
Pitrick couldn't possibly have organized the troops that
quickly!"
"Tell that to Pitrick and his army," Flint grumbled, stuffing
his boots onto his feet. "I just hope Basalt's had enough time
to fortify Hillhome. We're coming, whether they're ready or
not."
"We can march? Can we?" pleaded Nomscul, thrusting
his chest out and stomping about the room to demonstrate
his readiness.
Flint ignored the shaman as he finished dressing, his mind
on the march ahead of them
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