“The unhorsing, wounding and capture of the enemy was sought, for corpses fetched little ransom, but in the blind chaos of the charge, death was a whore who did not care who she drew into her darkness, veteran knight or callow bachelor.”

“As Tristan left the darkroom he heard Lacey’s soap opera voice. “And so our two heroes part,” she said, “blinded by love, neither of them listening to the wise and beautiful Lacey”—she hummed a little—“who, by the way, is getting a broken heart of her own. But who cares about Lacey?” she asked sadly. “Who cares about Lacey?”

“Strife and Confusion joined the fight, along with cruel Death, who seized one wounded man while still alive and then another man without a wound, while pulling the feet of one more corpse out from the fight. The clothes Death wore around her shoulders were dyed red with human blood.”

“What does the corpse care who was right and who was wrong?”

“The battlefield is a scene of constant chaos. The winner will be the one who controls that chaos, both his own and the enemies”

“Shep claimed eating cake like that so early in the morning was a 'whore's breakfast.' The rest of them didn't care. They were happy little whores who didn't worry about saving a morsel. ”