“How can you ask the realm to give more?” Kit’s soured voice spoke. “Honour,” Janoth said with a clipped fury. “Honour,” Kit’s laugh was full of pain. “Do you not remember honour as clearly as I do my friend?” He turned to face the window. “Why don’t you out onto the Killing fields. Stand amongst the thousand dead souls and ask them if honour matters.” WarPainDeathFriendshipFantasyHonourKingBrothersKillings Fields Book:When the Crows fly Source: When the Crows fly