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The safest thing would have been to avoid Noote altogether, but the princess had spent all afternoon and most of the evening, the length of time it had taken to climb down from the gate, trying to persuade Sart to lead them through the valley. The giant had steadfastly refused, even when Bria

As Bria

A few of the giants snapped belittling comments at Sart. "Stupid Sart? Firbolgs not good slaves!" Others pointed at Tavis, who was being carried in Morten's arms, and cried, "That one no good? Can't walk, can't work?"

Others seemed more alarmed by Bria

Occasionally, a hand would snatch out at the princess, but Sart would promptly slap it away, explaining she had come of her own will to see Noote. This invariably drew some ribald remark about "the rut" and caused a thunderous outbreak of laughter.

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"The rut," Morten commented, his voice thoroughly disgusted. "Savages!"

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Morten nudged her, and Bria

About halfway through the chamber, they came to an abhorrent mound of flesh standing about twice as tall as the princess. There was one overly long leg dragging on the ground behind him, one incredibly short leg dangling from his hip, and one that seemed just about the right size propped beneath his tailbone. He had a pale, hunched body, stooped shoulders, and no neck whatsoever. His head was bald and wart-covered, with floppy, pointed ears and red, bulging eyes lacking brows or lids.

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The fomorian, secured by a lengthy chain to a post, stood next to a large cooking fire. Over the roaring flames were suspended a dozen roasting spits, each skewering the charred remains of what might have been a deer. At the far end of the fire lay a tremendous pile of ski

As Bria

With both hands, Bria

"Not her, Ig!"

Sart cuffed Ig in the back of the head. The fomorian whirled around and leered up at his tormentor. Bria

"Humans not for eating!" the hill giant said.

Ig shrugged his stooped shoulders, then hopped, rather reluctantly, toward Morten.

"Not us, either!" the bodyguard grunted.

Ig looked up to Sart for confirmation. When the hill giant nodded, the fomorian sighed, then hopped back to his duties at the cooking fire.

"Let's go-before we get mistaken for vermin and stomped," Morten growled.

The princess led the way to the other end of the lodge, where another fomorian was halfheartedly performing a dance of debauchery. Though just as bald and warty as the cook, her abnormalities were mostly monumental exaggerations of curves typical to the females of most giant races. In a morose attempt to beguile her audience, she was spi

If the hill giants fathomed the sad beauty of the fomorian's dance, they showed no sign. They lounged around, bellowing lewd comments, mocking her deformities, and rutting with each other. In the center of this crowd, sitting cross-legged on the dirt floor and tossing hunks of charred meat at the woman's cleavage, was the dull-eyed, corpulent giant who Bria

Beside the chieftain sat an especially large and flaccid giant wearing a silver necklace that Bria

On the side opposite Noote's wife sat another female- at least the princess hoped the giant was female, considering where the chieftain's free hand was resting. If the queen disapproved of her husband's actions, she showed no sign, and was in fact engaged in her own dalliance with a fellow beside her.

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