In the morning light went Garthal Sword in hand, his cloak about his arm. A white shield for his arm, And he raised his blade against the inner men, Forcing their chieftain into battle, Forcing them to give him freedom of their ways, That he might come upon his bloody enemy And cross metal with him Who had raised the scornful laughter In the Hold of Grum at the Midyear feasting - Andre Norton, "Star Gate"

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