“Hadrian drew two swords from his sides in a single elegant motion. He flipped one around letting it spin against his palm once. “Need to get a new grip on this one. It’s starting to fray again.” He looked at Will. “Shall we get on with this? I believe you were about to rob us.” NeedsBelieveTwoI BelieveSidesStartingPalmsElegantFlippedFrayHadrianThis I Believe Author:Michael J. Sullivan
“Royce turned to Hadrian. “It’s supposed to make them look tough, but all it really does is make it easy to identify them as thieves for the rest of their lives. Painting a red hand on everyone is pretty stupid when you think about it.” “That tattoo is supposed to be a hand?” Hadrian asked. “I thought it was a little red chicken. But now that you mention it, a hand does make more sense.” Royce looked back at Will and tilted his head to one side. “Does kinda look like a chicken.” ThinkingLooksLittlesDoeHandsEasySidesStupidPaintingToughRedSupposed To BeChickensThievesTattooHadrian Author:Michael J. Sullivan
“So,” Royce said, “you want us to escape from this prison, kidnap the king, cross the countryside with him in tow while dodging soldiers who I assume might not accept our side of the story, and go to another secret prison so that he can visit an inmate?” Arista did not appear amused. “Either that, or you can be tortured to death in four hours.” “Sounds like a really good plan to me,” Hadrian declared.“Royce?” “I like any plan where I don’t die a horrible death.” WantSaidStoriesMightDiesSoundSidesHoursSecretAcceptingFourPlansKingsCrossesPrisonAssumingSoldierHorribleCountrysideAmusedInmatesTowHadrian Book:The Crown Conspiracy Source: The Crown Conspiracy
“As they climbed into their saddles, Myron bowed his head and muttered a soft prayer. “There,” Hadrian told Royce, “we’ve got Maribor on our side. Now you can relax.” “Actually,” Myron said sheepishly, “I was praying for the horses. But I will pray for you as well,” he added hastily.” WellsSaidSidesPrayerPrayingHorseRelaxSaddlesPraying For YouHadrian Author:Michael J. Sullivan
“And you? Did you find the doorknob?” Hadrian picked up a jug and downed several swallows, drinking so quickly some of the water dripped down his chin. He poured some in his palm and rinsed his face, running his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t even get close enough to see a door.” “Well, look on the bright side”—Hadrian smiled—“at least you weren’t captured and condemned to death this time.” “That’s the bright side?” “What can I say? I’m a glass-half-full kinda guy.” WellsLooksEnoughRunningFacesGuySidesWaterHalfDoorsHairDrinkingFingersGlassesPalmsCapturedChinsBright SideHalf FullJugsGlass Half FullHadrian Author:Michael J. Sullivan
“There are still eight of us,” Guy pointed out. “Not exactly an even fight.” “I was thinking the same thing,” Mauvin said. “Sadly, there’s no one else here we can ask to join your side.” Guy looked at Mauvin, then Hadrian, for a long moment as the men glared across the ash at each other. Then he nodded and lowered his blade. “Well, I can see I’ll have to report your misconduct to the archbishop.” “Go ahead,” Hadrian said. “His body is buried with the rest of them just down the hillside.” ThinkingMenWellsLongSaidStillsI CanMomentsBodyGuyFightingAsksSidesEightReportsBuriedAshesBladesYour SideMisconductHadrianThinking The Same Author:Michael J. Sullivan
