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... over the marsh.

"Good," he said. "I want them to."

Southfang March’s largest stronghold was gone, its defenders dead or scattered. The resistance was broken.

Lan stood at the water’s edge, the swamp behind him and the road to Verdelane ahead. In the dark, the poles along the causeway looked like black fingers clawing at the night sky.

When they moved again, it would be toward richer lands, higher walls, and deeper spoils.

The March had been bled dry.

< ...

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