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. Now the split horn sagged apart, its cleft
gaping, and exposed bone at its root.
"I could have," the king agreed. "It seemed rude." He
spoke with difficulty. "It seems I have fulfilled a pledge and
will die in service."
The stag said, "I also." He added, "Could you help me
over to the last standing draconian? I would not mind dying
with such memorial."
The king, gasping, carried the shuddering body of the
stag to the foot of the standing draconian. "He has - " He
coughed.
"Can you speak no more clearly than that? I seem not
to hear well just now." The rumble of the moving horns
covered all sound.
The king braced himself and said distinctly, "This one
has a hoof-print on his chest. Yours?"
"I would nod, but I have a headache." Blood ran from
his split forehead. As though watered, the twin horn-shards
sprouted buds of antlers.
"Then he will wear my marks as well." Holding the
stag with one arm, the king removed his own crown and
placed it on the stone figure before sliding wetly down its
side to the grass.
The stag rasped, "Either I am overly sensitive by
nature, or this seems harder than usual." Blood was flowing
darkly around the dust in his chest wound. "Could you not
distract me?"
"I could try
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