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Weekly Contest #45
Pengarron sat upon his granite throne. “Do they come,” spake he. “Aye, my lord,” muttered the servant there, hushed hesitantly. “Then send forth an usher, to welcome my messenger home.” “Aye, my lord,” the servant bowed and hurriedly gestured outward to send guards to the door. In the fields beyond the caste, along the vale where runneth the river, came a troop aride on horseback. Quiet rang the toot of hunting horn, deep thudded the hooves ...
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