“Your explanation is good, but your herring doesn't fry, as we say in Ramaldah," he exploded.”

“No, no, no, Landemere. This time I'm putting my foot down. I mean it. Don't think you're going to smear syrup on my beard, as we say in Ramaldah. You're not making me change my mind by sweet talking me. I know your tricks, and I won't fall for them.”

“And what?" Arranulf yawned."How did it go?""How did what go?""Don't play with my feet, as we say in Ramaldah. You were seen, Landemere.”

“...Obyann, you're talking about the Landemere-Ramaldah border dispute of 1416. Damn it, man, that was in the time of our grandfathers.”

“Damn you, Anaxantis. You and your brother were supposed to sit on your princely asses, organize the occasional banquet, use your high sounding titles to ravish the local girls, or boys, or sheep, whatever takes your fancy for all I care, and leave serious matters to your elders.”

“Just don’t stare at my ass, Landemere,” he added.“I wasn’t staring at your ass,” Arranulf, who had been staring at his ass, said.”

“Pah…commoners, traders." Ergus made a disparaging gesture.Traders with money, Ergus. Money they put at the disposition of young Tanahkos," Lmachdan said in a dry tone. "Money that turns into soldiers. Soldiers who are used to extort tribute from us. Tribute that is turned into more soldiers. The warlord has a good thing going, I'll say that for him.”