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. The centurion, still mounted, stared at Horgan with
eyes that bulged white, over lips twisted by fanaticism. Yet
he had enough discipline to hold his horse in check.
For a dizzying second, Horgan writes, he was frozen
with fear. He recalled another bridge, a quarter century
earlier. There, too, he had looked into the snorting nostrils
of a great beast that had been lashed into the service of
humans. The beast was different now, as was the bridge,
but the humans, he saw with sudden and crystalline clarity,
were the same. (This point,. Excellency, seems to have
dawned on Horgan with the brightness of a clear sunrise.
Indeed, he goes on and on about it. I have summarized
pages in the above paragraph.)
Perhaps it was this new recognition, or perhaps simply
the additional experience of his years in the thane's service,
that imbued him with the will to act.
"For Reorx and Thoradin!" he bellowed, his legs
pumping as he rushed across the bridge - straight at the
humans! The steel cleats of his boots chipped into the logs,
propelling him with a quickness that obviously stunned the
trio of Istarians.
"Stop him!" cried the centurion, his voice a mixture of
alarm and surprise. "Shoot him!"
The crossbowman lowered his weapon, sighting with
difficulty on Horgan's chest
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