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... ountain peaks, dragging gray clouds low across the plains. The joint camp of the Snowe’s and the Blue Countess’s host stirred like a great beast waking ... banners snapping, horns calling, and hundreds of feet crunching frost-hardened earth.
The time for departure had come.
For two days, the camp had held its uneasy truce. The Blue Countess’s troops, immaculate and composed, kept to their upper terraces; the Snowe’s, grim and scarred, lingered near the slope below. They exchanged ...
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