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. He
smiled at Tarli. "Say good-bye."
Moran paused before signaling the start. "Yes?" he said
to Steyan. "Did you want to say something?"
Steyan, who looked as if he hadn't slept in nights,
glanced back at Saliak speculatively.
"Nothing," he mumbled finally. Several of the other
novices looked relieved.
Moran turned to the riders, dropped his raised hand.
"Now." The spotters tugged on the ropes. The mounts
swung into the air.
Tarli nearly dropped his lance when his mount jerked
upward; his spotters had pulled too hard, possibly
intentionally. He recovered, but his lance popped out of the
swivel, and he was forced to bear its full weight. The tip
dropped to where it couldn't threaten anyone except Tarli's
own spotters.
Early days, thought Moran. Let him make his mistakes
here, where he might survive.
On the riders' first pass, Saliak speared Tarli's shield,
knocked it to the ground. His classmates cheered.
Tarli stared down at the shield, then, brushing his hair
out of his eyes, he looked up at the exultant Saliak. Tarli's
expression was excited and confused, but unafraid.
At a tug on the reins, Saliak's spotters dragged him
backward, then launched him straight at Tarli
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