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. But the joy that
should have been his reward - lying beside Tearsong every
night - was denied him. His leadership and strength had
suffered from her absence, and he knew it better than any
other. Whenever he let Loreman get his way without an
argument, whenever he wasted entire evenings gambling,
whenever some battle scar ached or a coughing fit seized
him (as they did more and more often these days),
Arrowthorn was full of self-loathing. He cursed his
unworthiness and lived in despair that he would ever join
Tearsong as a god.
The only thing he had to feel proud of was Goldmoon,
but if she continued with this stubborn championing of the
heretic Riverwind, she, too, would be lost.
There were more immediate dangers than River wind,
however. "We waste time on this," Arrowthorn declared.
"We must speak of the book."
"Hollow-sky's gift? I was wondering about that. I could
not find it last night. I wanted to read the last page."
"It is in my lodge. If I could, I would bum it before I
would let it defile your eyes."
"Father! Why?"
"It is full of slanders, vile insinuations against the line
of priestesses and all the warriors they have married and
made chieftains. At the same time it praises Loreman's line
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