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John Flanagan

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“Fighting positions, please, ladies...' 'That's debatable,' Halt said in an undertone to Will as they stood watching... 'The 'fighting' part or the 'ladies' part?' Will replied with a grin. Halt looked at him and shook his head. 'Definitely the 'ladies,'' he said. 'There's no debate about the 'fighting.'' Will shrugged. He knew there was an edginess to the girls' relationship and that it had something to do with him. Why that should be so was beyond him.”

“Gorlog's teeth!" Erak exclaimed, stunned at the numbers. "How many are there?" "Ten thousand, maybe twelve," Halt replied briefly. The Skandian let out a low whistle. "Are you sure? How can you tell?" It wasn't a sensible question, but Erak was overwhelmed by the size of the horse herd and he asked the question more for something to say than for any other reason. Halt looked at him dryly. "It's an old calvary trick," he said. "You count the legs and divide by four.”

“Are there bears in these mountains?" he asked. His companion nodded. "Of course. But it's a bit early in the year for them to be moving around. Why?" Halt let go a long breath. "Just a vague hope, really. There's a chance that when the Temujai here you crashing around in the trees, they might think you're a bear." Erak smiled, with his mouth only. His eyes were as cold as the snow. "You're a very amusing fellow," he told Halt. "I'd like to brain you with my ax one of these days." "If you could manage to do it quietly, I'd almost welcome it," Halt said.”

“You had this young man with you for... what, six years?" Halt shrugged. "Near enough," he replied. "And did you ever understand a word he was saying?" "Not a lot of the time, no," Halt said. Crowley shook his head in wonder. "It's just as well he didn't go into the Diplomatic Service. We'd be at war with half a dozen countries by now if he was on the loose." Will drew a deep breath to begin talking. He noticed that both men took an involuntary half step backward and he decided he'd better try to keep it as simple as possible.”

“Take one more step and I'll put an arrow through you." Will tried to model his voice on the quiet, threatening tone Halt had used. He had retrieved several of his arrows from the nearest target and now he had one of them ready, laid on the bowstring. Halt glanced around approvingly. "Good idea," he said. "Aim for the left calf. It's a very painful wound.”

“Halt! How are you? What have you been doing? Where's Abelard? How's Crowley? What's this all about?" "I'm glad to see you rate my horse more important than our Corps Commandant," Halt said, one eyebrow rising in the expression that Will knew so well. Early in their relationship, he had thought it was an expression of displeasure. He had learned years ago that it was, for Halt, the equivalent of a smile.”

“Bear with me on this, Evanlyn. I know you're anxious about Horace." WIll was a little puzzled by Halt's words. "No more anxious than the rest of us, surely," he said. Halt turned away and raised his eyebrows as his gaze met Selethen's. Sometimes, he thought, his former apprentice could be remarkably slow on the uptake. He saw the Arridi's slow nod of understanding. ~Halt & Will about Evanlyn and Horace”