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The whitejackets and his travois were no longer visible, but he'd been heading along an obvious path. "We can still get ourselves the live one," he said to Jaqueramaphan. Scriber stamped and sidled. He was not quite the enthusiast of before. "After you, my friend." Wickwrackscar straightened his combat jackets and brushed some of the dried blood off. Then he strutted off across the meadow, passing just a hundred yards from the Flenser's Servants around the enemy -- around the flying house. He flipped them a sharp salute, which was ignored. Jaqueramaphan followed, carrying two crossbows. The other was doing his best to imitate Peregrine's strut, but he really didn't have the right stuff. Then they were past the military crest of the hill and descending into shadows. The sounds of the wounded were muted. Wickwrackscar broke into double time, loping from switchback to switchback as he descended the rough path. From here he could see the harbor; the boats were still at the piers, and there wasn't much activity. Behind him, Scriber was talking nervous nonsense. Peregrine just ran faster, his confidence fueled by general newby confusion. His new member, the scarred one, had been the muscle behind an infantry officer. That pack had known the layout of the harbors and the castle, and all the passwords of the day. Two more switchbacks and they overran the Flenser Servant and his travois. "Hallo!" shouted Peregrine. "We bring new instructions from Lord Steel." A chill went down his spines at the name, remembering Steel for the first time. The Servant dropped the travois and turned to face them. Wickwrackscar didn't know his name,复件 (45) air max2, but he remembered the guy: fairly high-ranking, an arrogant get-of-bitches. It was a surprise to see him pulling the travois himself. Peregrine stopped only twenty yards from the whitejackets. Jaqueramaphan was looking down from the switchback above; his bows were out of sight. The Servant looked nervously at Peregrine and up at Scriber. "What do you two want?" Did he suspect them already? No matter. Wickwrackscar braced himself for a killing charge ... and suddenly he was seeing in fours, his mind blurred with newby dizziness. Now that he needed to kill, the scarred one's horror of the act undid him. Damn! Wickwrackscar cast wildly about for something to say. And now that murder was out of his mind, his new memories came easily: "Lord Steel's will, that the creature be brought with us to the harbor. You, ah, you are to return to the invader's flying thing." The whitejackets licked his lips. His eyes swept sharply across Peregrine's uniforms,复件 (37) air max1,mbt fanaka chocolate,复件 (85) air max, and Scriber's. "Impostors!" he screamed, at the same instant lunging one of his members toward the travois. Metal glinted in the member's forepaw. He's going to kill the alien! There was a bow snap from above,复件 (90) air max2, and the runner fell, a shaft through its eye. Wickwrackscar charged the others, forcing his scarbacked member out front. There was an instant of dizziness and then he was whole again, screaming death at the four. The two packs crashed together, Scar carrying a couple of the Servant's members over the edge of the path. Arrows hummed around them. Wic Kwk Rac twisted,复件 (73) air max2, slashing axes at whatever remained standing. Then things were quiet, and Peregrine had his thoughts again. Three of the Servant's members twitched on the path, the earth around them slick with blood. He pushed them off the path, near where his Scar had killed the others. Not one of the Servant had survived; it was total death, and he was responsible. He sagged to the ground, seeing in fours again. "The alien. It's still alive," said Scriber.