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. The
historian's painstaking slowness was an obvious ploy to
demonstrate to the tribe the importance of his own position.
Loreman finished writing the names of the contestants with
a flourish, then looked up and nodded to the princess.
Goldmoon had already performed hundreds of religious
ceremonies. Since her mother's death she had carried all the
burdens of priestess - praying for her people, their crops and
livestock and weaponry, tending the sick and injured,
settling disputes, burying the dead. But because of the
infrequency with which the door to the Hall of the Sleeping
Spirits opened, she had not been able to perform this most
important ceremony, during which she would dedicate her
life to her people. Now, this day had arrived. These men
seated below her would fight for the privilege of escorting
her, and undoubtedly one of them would eventually court
her, as her father had courted her mother.
"One of you had better be worthy," she said silently to
the men.
Goldmoon unfurled her personal banner; the gold
crescent moon emblazoned on the dark cloth shone in the
sun as brightly as her hair. She called out, "May the
blessings of the Ancient Dead give courage, endurance, and
strength to the greatest among you
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