His leg hurt, but he barely felt it as he hurried purposefully down the stairs and out of the inn. The two men standing obsequiously behind him had only half their dark hair shaved, the rest hanging in a dark braid down each man's right cheek. They don't die so easily as that. Scabbards rattled as men who did not already have their blades out bared them.
You would not understand, his sister said, and the three girls all caught a fit of the giggles. He put on a smile. The drums and trumpets sang, loud in his ears. They were Artur Hawkwing's armies returned.
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