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. "Boys," she
said, "I'd like you to meet Baron Krakold of the village of
Rosloviggen." She turned and blew a kiss to the dwarf
who sported the green feathers. Tas couldn't tell whether
the dwarf blushed -- his already ruddy complexion was
mostly hidden behind his enormous beard. He's not at all
the way I pictured a baron, thought Tas, who, if he pon-
dered the subject, conjured up images of shining armor, a
flowing cape, and a prancing white charger.
Gisella hooked her arm around the baron's shoulder
and gave it a squeeze. "The baron -- I just love the sound
of that, don't you? -- and his men just finished some mis-
sion or other and they're on their way back to the baron's
village. They'd love to have us join them. I don't see how
we can refuse such a gracious offer." Gisella turned and
stared deeply into the baron's eyes, simultaneously
grinding her hip against his thigh. The baron's
eyebrows -- which constituted a considerable mass of
hair -- twitched up and down, and a murmur of vague,
manly approval rippled through the troop of dwarves.
Just then, Fondu and his six kinsmen tumbled through
the edge of the grass and onto the road. They froze for a
second, looking at the noble entourage. Gisella closed
her eyes and bit her lip -- she knew that, as a rule, her
own kinsmen were no fonder of gully dwarves than of
horses. But when the Aghar broke into another spirited
chorus of "Balifor Bay," the baron and his men laughed
with delight. After a good round of guffawing and back
slapping, the column was under way
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