Pol passed me, holding a small bundle in his arms. The goat’s face was as sad as I’d ever seen it, and tears glinted behind his golden spectacles. He laid his burden at the foot of the dais and backed away with bowed head. A tiny cry split the air. Horror crawled down my spine. A baby. There was a baby in that bundle. A small arm extended from the pile of blankets, waving a tiny fist. “No,” Drustan said, beginning to rise, but Osric motioned for silence. Drustan subsided, his face lined with rage. Kallen, too, looked furious. His fists were clenched so tightly the knuckles looked like they
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