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. "King
talk too much," explained Nomscul. "We march now?"
Flint's face flushed, and he aimed a glare at Nomscul that
would have transfixed any halfway intelligent subject.
Fortunately - for himself, at any rate - Nomscul was only
halfway intelligent and simply mistook his monarch's stare
for a warm smile of congratulations.
"In a moment," Flint growled in exasperation. He turned
back to the troops, saw their stupidly eager expressions.
"Look, gang, we've got quite a march ahead of us; we'll stop
before dark near Stonehammer Lake, then I figure we'll
make it to Hillhome midday tomorrow. It's vitally impor-
tant that we stick together as a group - Basalt and all of
Hillhome are probably waiting this very minute for us to
come and help them. Please try to act like soldiers. Do it for
your king and queen."
"Two chairs for King Flunk and Queen Furryend!" Nom-
scul shouted. The troops responded with resounding
screeches and caterwauls.
"Let's go, before they get tangled up again," Perian sug-
gested in a loud whisper, watching them wander from their
units.
"Gully dwarves, march!" cried Flint, waving his arm in a
circle over his head
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