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I saw Norhala draw herself up, sharply; stand listening and alert. Under me, the throbbing turned to an uneasy churning, a ferment. "Drums?" muttered Drake. "THEY'RE no drums. It's drum fire. It's like a dozen Marnes, a dozen Verduns. But where could batteries like those come from?" "Drums," whispered Ventnor. "They ARE drums. The drums of Destiny!" Louder the roaring grew.
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