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Unformatted text preview: aird himself peered up from beneath his thick gray eyebrows with sparkling blue eyes that held me in a deadly glance. I looked around me in fear. Now it seemed the monks, who had only been in the vestibule, once again appeared. One or two came forward to stare at me. They looked remarkable to me, these shining bald creatures all in long dresses like women, but as more and more of them came forward, the entire gather- ing became ever more alarmed. "He is my son!" declared my father. "My son, I tell you! He is Ashlar, come again!" And this time many women screamed, and some of them fell back as if fainting; the men rose from their benches, and the old Laird rose, bringing down both fists upon the boards so that cups and knives were shaken to the right and to the left. Wine splashed. Plates clattered. Then, in spite of his age, the old Laird leapt upward onto the bench. "Taltos!" he said in a low and vicious whisper, leering at me with lowered head. Taltos. I knew this word. This was the word for me. I would have run then, instinctively, if my father hadn't...
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- Spring '10