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"Flint - over here!" He heard Perian's urgent cry, and saw
her running in his direction. He quickly raced along the wall
to meet her.
"Pitrick's savants!" she said, pointing to a half-dozen der-
ro that had worked their way forward from the far rank.
"We're going to get hit by magic in a minute or two."
Flint saw the savants, clearly illuminated by a nearby
bonfire. Their hair seemed bleached almost to white, but it
flashed red as the fire flared upward. They wore long dark
robes that seemed strangely incongruous among the gleam-
ing black armor of their fellows.
Flint considered the savants. "Here come the fireworks."
"I've got an idea," Ruberik mused. "The torches are ready.
What do you say we wait till the derro get a little closer, and
then give them something to look at?" He gestured to the oil-
soaked bales of straw before the breastwork. Privately, Flint
hoped that the idea he had had during the calm of the after-
noon would prove as effective as he'd imagined, now that it
was the dark of night amid the raging chaos of battle.
."That's a great idea!" Perian exclaimed, clapping Flint's
brother on the back
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