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The Red Kings Wrath
The Red Kings Wrath
The Red Kings Wrath
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The Red Kings Wrath

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The Red Kings Wrath ~
"ALMEKTIG WILL BURN BY MY HAND, SURTENG! AND ITS STREETS SHALL SHINE RED WITH ENESTE MAATEN BLOOD! YOUR CAPITAL, YOUR STATE, AND YOUR CHURCH SHALL FALL BECAUSE OF WHAT YOU HAVE DONE . . . I AM COMING!"
The Red King will have justice.
Marching toward the Church State, war, and likely death, Erec leads his people into battle against slavery and corruption and Tyg must face his past to lead an uprising against the Church State's despotic government. In the north, Freyja and Derek continue their suicide mission to protect Erec and end the Cardinal's sinister reign.
War and carnage rule the Church State as its enemies close in.

Heirs of BjornsGaard ~
A thousand years ago, on the Day of Cataclysm, the world changed. Mountains rose from plains, continents fell into oceans, colossal tempests obliterated civilizations, and jotun, creatures of legend and superstition, rose up. The New Ice Age began, blanketing the world in snow and an army of draugr, dead warriors, walked the earth destroying every remnant of the old age.

From the ashes, the Church and the Clan BjornsGaard united humanity behind their banners, rallying knights and heroes to face this new world. Under their leadership, mankind overthrew the draugr and retook control of its destiny.

In the centuries since, the Church grew into an empire, controlling most of the continent. Though its origins were noble, the Church State grew based on greed, racism, and slavery. Only two militant orders of knights, the Hospitalars and the Tau, allied with the islands of the BjornsGaard Commonwealth stood against the Church States expanding pogroms. But during the intervening years, the Kings of BjornsGaard had grown corrupt and weak. In one night, the entire family was assassinated, opening the way for the Church to expand spreading its suppression and holocaust.

But in BjornsGaard's farthest northern island, hope is dawning. In the Hospitalar's Northern Compound five orphans, physically and intellectually gifted and trained by the Hospitalar knights to fight, to heal, and to reason, grow up together. With a bond tighter than normal siblings and forged stronger by pain and loss, these five will grow to challenge the Church State and accept their destiny as leaders in this new age.


*Disclaimer*
Heirs of BjornsGaard is a clean fantasy adventure series, meaning that there is no sexual content, nudity, or language. However, it does contain some violence and mature subject matter that may not be suitable for younger readers. Discretion is advised.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherBookBaby
Release dateApr 26, 2021
ISBN9781098358525
The Red Kings Wrath

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    The Red Kings Wrath - R.J. Redmond

    cover.jpg

    All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

    Print ISBN 978-1-09835-851-8 | eBook ISBN 978-1-09835-852-5

    Thora, Ammon, and Bjorn

    You all told me that I could, and in the end . . . I finally believed you.

    I’m eternally grateful to be your father,

    Thank you.

    Contents

    I. NORDLUFTHIEM
    II. VESTLANDER
    III. ALMEKTIG

    I

    NORDLUFTHIEM

    CHAPTER ONE

    Western Sea near Ecali Coast

    Astrid leaned against the battleship’s railing as the massive vessel’s bow rocked upward in the heavy surf before plunging back down into the water. Keeping her knees bent to absorb the boat’s sway, she stared with immense concern toward Erec as the King’s short bright orange hair flashed about in the sea breeze.

    That’s not an expression I’d like to see on anyone . . . let alone a king. A tall black-bearded man with a gruff voice stated, approaching from the aft before leaning sturdily on the railing beside her.

    The teenager shifted her posture, glanced back at the man, whom she didn’t recognize, and shook her head in response before glancing behind them. As far as she could see, the fleet of BjornsGaard warships filled the water, frigates and battleships alike, their paddlewheels churning hard against their sides, steam and smoke billowing from stacks above them. A massive armada, steadily holding its course southward along the Ecali coast, which lay just above the horizon to their east. The dark-featured man was the only person on deck who’d taken the time to speak to Astrid, even though several different groups of people stared at him with concern and angst as the Tau sailors moved around seeing to the ship. He was one of the few individuals on deck who wasn’t wearing a tunic identifying themselves as Tau or Hospitalar, and he’d been watching her curiously for some time.

    Do you know what’s happening? The brown-skinned girl asked, attempting to pull her thick, impossibly curly hair back from her face as the wind blew it around.

    The man grunted negatively and shook his head, I saw what you saw.

    Astrid knew what he referred to: less than an hour before the adolescent had guided her small messenger airship through shifting and swirling ocean winds, landing precariously on the deck of this ship. The airship now lay thoroughly moored between two mounted trebuchets on the main deck a few feet from them. When they’d arrived, Erec and Evert had descended, and just after that, the king was hailed formally and taken off to the side by a broad-shouldered blond woman wearing a Hospitalar tunic. The two had talked quietly while Evert assured that their weapons and baggage was stowed aboard the ship. As the discussion continued, Erec’s face had grown dark red, and his eyes had flashed angrily. He’d slammed his fist against the ship’s railing, scaring Astrid because she’d only seen the King even and calm. Even in the most stressful circumstances, she’d never witnessed the young king behave that way or lose his temper. He’d gestured about wildly and ranted off several orders before turning away from the woman, kicking the railing as he marched to the bow of the boat. Though he’d left an excited flurry behind him, he’d remained there, at the very front of the ship, silent, fuming, and incensed since then, his blue eyes flashing furiously. No one had dared approach him, even Astrid.

    I’ve never seen him like this. Astrid stated calmly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him show irritation before . . . Let alone anger.

    The large man nodded, He’s always seemed like a cool one to me . . . It’s nice to know he’s human.

    Astrid furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head at the man disapprovingly. She’d spent the last fifteen days in Erec’s presence nearly all the time - reading through the texts in Dhrumvelt Abbey’s library, learning chess, and perpetually training or conditioning. If there was anything that training with Erec had taught her, it was that Erec was the last person on earth she ever wanted to see angry.

    Whatever it is . . . It’s going to come to a head shortly. The man stated.

    What? Astrid looked back toward the man in confusion.

    The big man smirked, scratching the black hair on top of his head before pointing to a large group of aging Hospitalar knights gathering at the far end of the deck. "That group there is the Hospitalar High Council, a few of them just got collected from other ships by skiff, two skiffs specifically, and three skiffs were sent out, so we’ll see who’s on the last one.

    Also, The man continued as the boat rocked again, You don’t move people between boats when the surf is this high unless something significant is happening.

    Astrid glanced at the white-capped waves rolling about beneath them and then looked back towards the large man nodding with comprehension.

    Corrupting the young and impressionable Varsec? a hard woman’s voice sounded from their right. Astrid stepped away from the banister to see past the broad man as Britta Tau, and Valter Tau approached, their yellow Tau tunics flapping about them in the wind. The entire left side of Britta’s pale brown face was bright red and covered with peeling dead skin, her long wiry gray hair was patched and burnt along the same side, and her willowy figure limped slightly as she approached while Valter kept his shrewd brown eyes fixed on the black-haired man.

    War Leader Britta! Astrid exclaimed uncontrollably, What happened to your . . . Then she stopped mid-sentence turning back toward the man. Varsec, she intoned incredulously, The Brigand?

    The man smirked harshly, chuckling and winking at the girl.

    And I assume you’re the pilot that helped this lot make such short work of my ships a couple of months back, he continued to smirk, then he gave a mock bow to Astrid, who didn’t know how to respond.

    Britta ignored the man’s antics stepping past Astrid with her eyes on Erec as Valter put his arm around Astrid protectively. Has he spoken to you? Britta asked Varsec over her shoulder.

    Varsec’s eyes went serious, and the pomp he’d exhibited just before disappeared from his posture as he shook his head. He hasn’t spoken to anyone except the Hospitalar Grand Master, he replied earnestly, stepping toward the woman. I expect there may be some trouble, he stated quietly.

    Britta’s stony eyes turned toward him, her expression neutral, Would you enjoy that? she asked, her voice flat and unamused.

    The pirate’s bearded face blanched before meeting her gaze with solemnity, For him . . . no. Varsec stated, shaking his head, His father or grandfather would be a pleasure to watch like this, he added savagely before lowering his voice again, . . . but not him. The War Leader nodded before glancing across the deck where the broad-shouldered blonde Hospitalar hurried toward Erec.

    That’s Sanna, the Hospitalar Grand Master, Valter whispered kindly to Astrid as the group looked up the ship toward the commotion.

    Varsec, you may want to join us, Valter’s powerful voice stated as he began to cross the deck toward the gathered Hospitalar council, motioning for Astrid to follow.

    Why? The man asked from behind them.

    Valter smirked, stroking the chin of his close-cropped brown beard, I think you’ll find it interesting.

    Astrid walked between the two Tau knights, glancing over to Erec, who walked toward the group of them purposefully, Sanna a half step behind him. The Hospitalar High Council had formed a formal line, standing against the railing near a pulley engine designed to haul skiffs back aboard ship. Astrid and the two Tau leaders joined them with Varsec casually taking up the rear, while a few groups of high ranking Tau knights and other well-coifed individuals stood a ways off, watching carefully, their expressions concerned. Several Tau sailors began lowering a platform down the side of the vessel, preparing to bring the third returning skiff back on board.

    The king walked past Astrid, his maroon tunic blowing about him, his irate gaze locked on the council. He walked halfway down the line before turning to address them all. Sanna stepped back a moment and looked to the ground.

    Councilors, Erec stated, his voice harsh, "We will take this opportunity to remind the Council that Tyg Varor, formerly known as Tygseng Deathwind, enjoys a royal pardon for any past acts and shall not, the king’s voice continued in an outraged crescendo, be sought out, taken into custody, harassed, or in any other way troubled by any Hospitalar, Tau, or citizen of BjornsGaard." The collected group of aging knights, both men and women, remained petulantly silent.

    We further remind this group, the young king continued, "That any action against the Chief Constable sanctioned by this body shall result in the entire Hospitalar Order losing its legal status and protection within our Commonwealth." One of the councilors acted like he was about to respond, but Erec flashed him a look, and he held his tongue.

    My friends and mentors, Erec’s voice lowered to a growl as he continued, conspicuously dropping the royal ‘we’ for the moment, "I want it known by all of your order that anyone taking action from here forward against Tyg shall not face BjornsGaard’s justice . . . they shall face me!"

    Erec took in a large breath and exhaled slowly. Carolus, the young king continued, his voice cracking slightly as he stated the name. He paused to grimace as his face turned somewhat emotional, Carolus . . . your War Leader . . . is no longer welcome in our court or at our council, Erec sighed deeply, You may do with him what you will.

    Four of the council members looked up, their eyes wide, while the rest continued to look away somberly. The loud clanking of the boom’s gears interrupted the group as the engine next to them began to pull the boat back aboard. Erec stood in silence staring at the assembled group as the stern wheeled skiff, just like the one that had saved Astrid, Erec, and the others when they’d been wrecked on the reef, was raised upward by chains. The boat dripped cold seawater across the deck as it was hauled over the railing onto a metal berthing, clattering loudly as it secured into place.

    Sailors quickly placed a set of steps alongside the craft. Two armed Hospitalars descended, standing at attention on either side of the stairs as two chained prisoners- an average height, fit man, and a petite middle-aged blond woman - descended, turning around once they reached the deck to assist the third prisoner, Tyg Varor.

    Tyg’s large form shifted stiffly from side to side as he limped, one arm harnessed in a sling, down the stairs aided by the other two prisoners. Erec immediately ran to him. The king put his arm beneath Tyg’s to help support his weight down the last steps.

    The Chief Constable smiled weakly at the king as he stopped at the foot of the stairs, but his dark eyes portended nothing except sorrow and depression.

    My friend . . . Erec stated, reaching toward him. The aging dodsokser recoiled from his touch, his muscular body quivering nervously. The king’s eyes narrowed as his skilled hands deftly touched the stitched wounds at his neck before tracing the outline of the massive stitched injuries beneath his shirt. He shook his head in disbelief.

    Erec, a soft feminine voice whispered from the petite prisoner beside him.

    The King spun, looking down in surprise at Kelda Gertsdaater’s concerned and apologetic face.

    We weren’t given the proper supplies, she whispered. More figures descended the stairs next to them, but Erec didn’t notice. His trained eyes read Tyg’s body like a book. The man’s stitches were bound with tendrils torn from the other prisoner’s clothing applied with whatever implement they managed to find in the ship’s brig. His pain had never received any treatment. He’d been left to suffer in the hold alone without anything to aid the torturous soreness and aches from his wounds.

    Erec’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

    Kelda shook her head sorrowfully and remained silent.

    Release their bonds, Erec ordered, forcing his tone to remain even as he sensed a tall, lean form approaching.

    Do not. A powerful voice called from behind him.

    Erec spun, his fist flashing out, backhanding the tall man across the face and sending him sprawling to the deck. A member of the council gasped, and the two Hospitalar guards instinctively grabbed for their swords, but a single fiery gaze from the King froze them mid-action.

    Erec pointed at Tyg’s chains, his eyes locked on the guards. Now.

    The guards immediately began removing the bonds as Erec strode aggressively toward the tall man who looked up toward him in disbelief from the deck. You denied your prisoners medical attention, Carolus. The king’s voice echoed across the deck.

    The Hospitalar War Leader’s dark eyes flashed indignantly from the ground as he looked up toward his king, They were in no danger . . .

    Silence! Erec shouted, cutting him off. To deny your prisoners treatment is to ignore the most basic code of the Hospitalar Order, Carolus! The King’s voice continued, And by taking Tyg into custody, you denied our authority . . . Erec’s lower lip quivered emotionally as his balled fists involuntarily quivered beneath his flexed arms. I don’t know you, Carolus he made a sweeping dismissive motion toward the man, Be gone.

    The king turned toward Grand Master Sanna, Convey him by skiff to the shore and leave him there . . . He can find his own way home . . . We are finished with him.

    Carolus leapt to his feet, Erec spun defensively while Kelda and the other bound knight stepped defensively in front of Tyg. The two other Hospitalars jumped toward Carolus, holding him back. Fiet’ta Fatalis! Carolus yelled. I challenge the Deathwind!

    Rubbish! I won’t hear it! Erec spat back.

    The Fiet’ta is above your authority, my Lord . . . It is a higher law . . . Carolus answered, You cannot deny me justice.

    Erec’s eyes narrowed at Carolus.

    The Deathwind orphaned me, Erec. The Hospitalar continued, his voice bordering between raging and pleading. He killed them all . . . slaughtered them while I watched . . . I will have justice!

    Erec’s right hand gripped his sword hilt, Then you will face m . . .

    A strong hand gripped downward over Erec’s, holding his hand firmly against his sword, No more bloodshed for me, Erec. Tyg whispered in the King’s ear. No more . . . I will face him.

    Western Church State

    The prison wagon lurched sideways, jerking Nik’s body left against the carriage’s wall. Waves of agonizing pain swept across the general, wakening him from a light sleep. He screamed out momentarily before realizing what he was doing and silencing the cry. Janna’s chains clinked as she slid to his side.

    I’m fine, he whispered through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse and forced.

    Janna touched his side softly with her bound hands and leaned over, kissing him lightly on the cheek. Nik closed his eyes tight, trying to control his reactions to the pain as the wagon continued to jostle along a mud path. He opened his eyes again, peering at the daylight peeking through tiny slanted imperfections between the solid planked walls. Where are we? He asked, barely making out his companions’ forms in the dim light.

    All of them lay chained across the wagon’s deck, hands and feet bound together and to the floor, minimizing their movements. Nik kept his back flat on the base of the carriage, glancing sideways towards the others only slightly. He knew how much pain turning his head would cause and didn’t want to risk it. Dania shifted onto her side and craned her neck to peer out between two boards. We’ve come out of the mountains . . . We’re in hills it looks like . . . rolling ones, the girl explained, keeping her voice quiet enough not to be overheard by the Eneste Maaten guards while craning her neck from side to side attempting to get a better view, I see tall grass and leafy trees.

    Oaks? Nik queried.

    I don’t know, General, the squire replied, This campaign was my first trip out of BjornsGaard . . . I don’t know what an oak looks like.

    The general nodded slightly, Thank you, Dania . . . We’re in the Church State.

    The three lay silently, listening to the wagon creak and sway for a moment. Maybe that’s for the best, the squire stated quietly.

    Dania, Janna’s voice whispered sternly, I’m sorry . . . but you know that isn’t the case.

    What else could it be, Dania replied through the dark.

    What’s this? Nik called out, continuing to stare ceaselessly at the crack between boards above his head.

    Janna’s chains rattled as she rolled onto her back, Our squire is confused because of what happened to the army . . .

    What else could that have been but the hand of Providence? Dania blurted out. Fire came from the sky!

    Sorcery, Dania. Nik stated calmly, That was sorcery.

    With respect General . . . That sounds far-fetched, Dania replied.

    More farfetched than Providence blessing a society that enslaves a third of its people while exterminating another third through pogroms? Nik retorted sarcastically. He paused for a moment and sighed before continuing, No, that was just sorcery . . . powerful sorcery, but still sorcery.

    I thought sorcery was a myth.

    Nik shook his head slowly, No . . . It’s just not common. He could hear the two knights turning toward him in the dark, drawn by the confidence of his reply.

    You’ve seen it before? Janna’s voice inquired through the dark.

    The general smiled tolerantly, I have a friend who can raise the dead.

    Nik grinned broader as he heard the thud of Dania’s elbow against the floorboards as she craned her body to see him.

    The dark gift, Janna whispered.

    Wha . . . What’s the ‘dark gift’? the squire asked.

    It’s a legend that features in the sagas of the Draugr Wars and the BjornsGaard clan . . . Especially in the great war against the dead hordes. Nik answered, The legends state that the first King of BjornsGaard and his kin were able to raise and control the dead . . . I never imagined it was true until I saw it.

    The group was quiet for a moment as the prison carriage rolled on, It was during the first campaign against Varsec . . . still in the early days. Erec and I were both squires, and we were assigned a forward position when our squad was attacked. Nik grimaced at the memory, Most of us were killed, and the rest scattered into the woods. We got lost in the woods, the two of us . . . and the enemy cut us off . . . I was panicking, but Erec. He laughed uncomfortably, Erec was so incredibly calm. Nik shook his head incredulously, He kept me quiet and guided me through the woods away from them . . . We slid down into a ditch and hid in a pile of dead soldiers . . . When we were sure that the brigands had passed Erec . . . Erec held a finger to his lips and told me to stay silent . . . Then he touched a body with his hand . . . and it woke up.

    Nik shuddered as the other two listened intently, Cool as anything . . . like this was just some casual everyday occurrence . . . He politely asked the dead soldier directions back to our base camp . . . and the horrible thing complied . . .

    The general’s eyes softened, As we snuck back . . . Erec . . . Erec and I talked about it . . . He said, the first time he used it . . . used magic . . . it was on his mother, and he didn’t even realize what he was doing. He was just a little boy and she’d just been killed, her throat sliced open . . . and he touched her cheek . . . and . . . and she told him to hide and run away . . . to run to safety. Nik paused and shook his head again, Of course he didn’t . . . He’s completely incapable of running, even when he was a child . . . He tried to save his brothers . . . The general grimaced. Anyway, it was the only time we ever talked about it . . . It’s funny . . . I really should have figured out that he was a Prince of BjornsGaard . . . I was the only one of us that knew this secret about him . . . but somehow it never even occurred to me.

    Dania nodded to herself in the dark, But how do you know those . . . fire tornadoes . . . or whatever they were . . . How do you know that was sorcery?

    Nik smirked, Because a just and loving Providence would not side . . . with them.

    No, m’Lord, Dania’s voice stated resolutely after a moment, A loving Providence would not.

    The general smiled to himself as scattered raindrops began to pelt down on the wagon’s roof, steadily increasing in frequency. The splattering roar of a sudden downpour sounded around them, and water began to drip down on Nik’s left cheek and shoulder. The Tau knight frowned and closed his eyes as the dripping became more constant.

    Nik? Janna’s voice called out, Why don’t you move out of the rain?

    The general blanched. I’m comfortable here, He responded wryly, as the drips became a steady stream spattering down against his forehead. He closed his eyes tightly, attempting to keep the water out.

    General, Janna pushed, slide to the side.

    Nik shook his head slightly, I’m fine, Janna . . . Just let it be.

    Janna shifted her body as close to Nik’s side as she could, Nik . . . What’s going on?

    The general didn’t reply.

    Nik . . .

    The general remained silent,

    Nik . . . Janna softened her voice, Can you move your toes?

    The general scowled and exhaled slowly before responding, No . . . No . . . He sighed deeply, I can’t move anything below my arms.

    Northern Church State

    Freyja sloshed through an ankle-deep puddle, her shoulders straining against the weight of her bag as she hid in the shadow of a gigantic maple tree, heavy rain torrenting down around her. She glanced upward to Derek’s face as he crouched close to the tree trunk, a heavy pack hanging from his back, watching Rolf as the airman peeked around the trunk, up a broad muddy avenue lined with large wooden residences shaped like ‘A’s. Triangular cottages interspersed with the large oak and maple trees on long dirty streets that circled a massive flat field scattered with a crowd of moored airships of all sizes.

    Derek continued to watch the pilot as Freyja glanced back to confirm Sussanah and Jordaan’s location. They were crouched next to a leafy maple across a lane fifteen yards away, under Kataryn’s watchful eye as the Tau knight stood motionless, her traveler’s cloak disappearing into the oak trunk behind her. Then Freyja looked across the broad road toward Magnus’ lupine shadow as the animal loped nearly invisible through the trees, keenly aware of the group’s position. They’d spent the last two weeks avoiding Eneste Maaten patrols. Traveling at night and hiding most days. They wouldn’t have been moving this afternoon if it hadn’t been for the extreme spring rains that had soaked their clothes and luggage, forcing them to make the final leg of the trip to Rolf’s homestead during the day.

    Rolf glanced back at the two of them and nodded, stepping slowly out into the lane. Freyja motioned for Sussanah and Jordaan to join them, and the broad, bearded man put his arm around the slight girl’s shoulders as they ran through the deluge to the general. Freyja motioned affirmatively back to Rolf. Then the whole group moved as a crowd, ducking their heads against the assaulting rain as they splashed across the lane, carrying their heavy loads up a short trail to a triangular house on the side of the massive airship landing field. The group huddled together beneath a small outcropping of roofline as Rolf fumbled about in his pockets before producing a key and unlocked the doors, quickly motioning the group in as Kat sprinted from the trees across the road to join them. Hail began to fall, clattering down on the home’s shake roof. The tiny icy balls pelted down, gathering in the puddles and ditches as they continued to pour down harder. The diminutive knight and Magnus both slipped into the house soundlessly as Rolf closed the door.

    The group stood for a moment, staring silently at each other, their clothes and bags dripping into puddles beneath them on the planked wooden floor. Then the wolf moved into the center of the group and shook vigorously, splashing water from his fur all over the others as they reflexively called out their disapproval.

    All of them fell silent, listening as bare feet padded up a set of wooden steps from the cellar. Derek pulled his dagger, leaving the axe on his back due to the close quarters, as Freyja and Kat rested their hands on the hilts of their swords. Rolf waived them off and stepped forward as a trim, beautiful, dark-brown skinned woman with short thick black hair standing out from her head and bright chestnut eyes turned the corner wearing a plain, long, gray gown. The woman’s eyes went wide when she spotted the group, but she held her ground, her gaze fixing on Rolf momentarily before she glanced toward the floor and bowed toward him. M’Lord returns. She stated quietly, How may I serve you?

    Rolf smiled and stepped forward, It’s alright, Ulla, he stated fondly, They can be trusted.

    Ulla’s posture immediately relaxed, and she rushed to Rolf and embraced him. The couple held each other tightly for a moment before they kissed sweetly and turned back to the group. The group looked on in confusion

    Everyone, Rolf stated with a smile, his arm resting around the woman’s back as she rested her head against his lean shoulder, This is Ulla . . . My wife. He grinned even more broadly as he rested his cheek against her wiry hair, Ulla . . . Change has come! He turned his face, kissing her head, These people have brought change to us!

    Freyja’s eyes narrowed at the man.

    Rolf nodded happily toward the general, We will call a meeting of the Nordlufthiem Motstand . . . They will help you.

    Western Sea near Ecali

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