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. I'm sealing this door."
Rakiel did not move, eyed him grimly. "Have you
noticed," he said determinedly, "that the novices are right
about his being like a kender? He doesn't have the pointed
ears, of course," he added hastily, "or the topknot hair, and
he is a little taller, but his habits, and his recklessness, and
his ..."
Moran glowered at the cleric. "Loraine was human.
Very short, a bit odd, but human. Go."
Rakiel left. The knight, alone on the trunk, sagged and
closed his eyes, too tired even to dream of Loraine.
*****
Moran sat clearing away his manuscripts. Drill reason
was nearly over.
The game of Draconniel was over as well; last night
Rakiel's forces, depleted over months of ruthless tactics,
withdrew in disorder. Moran killed and captured as many
as mercy and logistics allowed, then accepted Rakiel's
sullen congratulations and gladly slipped downstairs to
check on the novices.
In retrospect, he wished he had stayed with Rakiel.
Hidden in his niche, Moran listened to the boys in the
barracks. This was their last night. In the morning, the
novices would be given squires' tunics and the names of the
knights they would serve
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