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Kate Elliott

Kate Elliott Books

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Child of Flame

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Prince of Dogs

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Cold Steel

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Traitors' Gate

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Cold Fire

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“He would not let himself be overawed by her consequence! He was also the son of noble parents, if not of a king. "Then-then they'll need more Dagons," he blurted out. "Let me go, please. Let me serve the king." "It is not my decision to make." "How can you stop me if I refuse to take vows as a monk when my novitiate is ended?" he demanded. She raised an eyebrow. "You have already pledged yourself to enter the church, an oath spoken outside these gates." "I had no choice!" "You spoke the words. I did not speak them for you." "Is a vow sworn under compulsion valid?" "Did I or any other hold a sword to your throat? You swore the vow." "But-" "And," she said, lifting a hand for silence-a hand that bore two handsome rings, one plain burnished gold braid, the other a fine opal in a gold setting, "your father has pledged a handsome dowry to accompany you. We do not betroth ourselves lightly, neither to a partner in marriage-" He winced as she paused. Her gaze was keen and unrelenting. "-nor to the church. If a vow can be as easily broken as a feather can be snapped in two-" She lifted a quill made from an owl feather from her table, displaying it to him. "-then how can we any of us trust the other?" She set down her feather. "Our oaths are what makes us honorable people. What man or woman who has forsworn his noble lord or lady can ever be trusted again? You swore your promise to Our Lady and Lord. Do you mean to swear that oath and live outside the church for the rest of your days?" Said thus, it all sounded so much more serious. No man or woman who made a vow and then broke it was worthy of honor.”

“Because you won't truly understand what it is we work toward until you have discovered it for yourself." Liath began to protest, but Meriam raised a hand for silence. "It is all very well to protest that because you have seen a horse ridden, you know how to ride. But you don't know how to ride until you have yourself ridden. Isn't that true?" "I don't see-" "You don't see because you persist in thinking that the art of the mathematici is like a story, something you can understand equally well whether it is read to you or you read it yourself. But the art of the mathematici isn't a story, it is a skill, like riding a horse, or fighting, or administering an estate, something that takes time and effort to master. Would you set an apprentice weaver to weave the king's royal robes? Ask a novice to illuminate the Holy Verses? Trust your life to a pilot who had never before sailed through these shoals? You, of all people, must understand fully." "Why?" Then Liath laughed, having picked up the habit from Sanglant. "Never mind, Sister. I know what you will say. You will say that when I understand fully, then I will also understand why I must understand fully." "There lies the beginning of understanding." Was Meriam amused? It was hard to tell. She was too ancient to be easily read. Like all the magi, she held layers within layers in herself, none of which were readily peeled off. "Is that why you're here, to understand?" "Nay", she replied to quietly that a hundred misgivings congealed into a dreadful foreboding in Liath's heart, and the night no longer seemed to tame. "I am here to save my child and my child's children from what will come.”

“Just as the gold and silver you gave to my foster family was a small price for you to pay," said Alain, suddenly bitter again. "For their fostering of you? A small price, indeed, Alain. Never begrudge the seed you sow in good soil, for it is the harvest that comes from that sowing that will determine whether you live or die next spring. Think not only for this day, but for the one that is to come. In this way, Lavas has prospered and will continue to do so under your stewardship.”

“Thank God I don't have to pass judgement! Lord Geoffrey's accusations are troubling, and hard to disprove. But Count Alain is no fool. King Henry respected Lavastine, and as Alain said, it is harder to pass judgement on the actions of a dead man than on the worthiness of a living one." "Do you think so? The dead man can't defend himself." "But a good reputation is its own defense. It's harder to pass judgement exactly because he can't defend himself, because the whole of his life is laid out before you. Who are we, then, to decide we would have acted differently, and that our actions would have turned out for the better?”

“A kiss can be like the world turning over. It can be like the tide of a dragon's dream washing through the unseen world that is hidden to mortal eyes but that nevertheless permeates our being. It can be hot and cold together, as vast as the heavens and yet specific to the pressure of hands and the parting of lips. It raised more intense feelings than I had expected, like being engulfed in a storm of lightning.”

“Listen, my father had written. Listen to hear if they are telling the truth or only part of the truth, for that is the lesson of history: that the victors tell the tale of their triumph in a manner to grant accolades to themselves and heap blame upon their rivals. Ask yourself if part of the story is being withheld by design or ignorance.”