“If we'd just been fighting their army without the general, we might, just MIGHT have had a chance. But with him...?' The big man shrugged, then stood to leave. 'But that's defeatist talk. And I've got a fyrd to help train. I'll see you tonight at dinner, Maggie.”

“Charlemagne opened his mouth to protest, but immediately snapped it shut and slapped a hand over his nose, a look of disgust on his face. Primplepuss had struck again. Scrambling to his feet, Charlemagne hurried for the door and wrenched it open before glancing back at Maggie. The old man was struggling to escape from beneath the enormous cat's weight. "We can discuss this later, Maggie," he said. "Perhaps tonight, on the battlements, where our thoughts might be clearer." And he hurried off, ignoring Maggie's pleas for help to get the cat off him."Sharley, wait! Give ma a hand! This cat's so heavy --oh, my God! No! How can you smell like that and live? Sharley, help!"An already distance voice floated back into his room. "Sorry, can't stop. I value my nostrils.""Prince Charlemagne, for the love of all that's decent! My God, cat, if we could harness your arse we could repel any invasion! How do you do it?"A small questioning meow was the only reply Maggie received as he flapped a handkerchief under his nose and tried to breath through his mouth without retching.”

“If you reach for the stars, you just might land on a decently sized hill.”

“If you dare try to leave me behind, I'll follow on foot, and when I die in the snow, Ill come back and haunt you. I'll make your life a complete misery. No ghost will ever have been as inventive in its nastiness as I'll be: I'll turn your food rancid; I'll transform your drink into blood; I'll howl and moan throughout the night; there'll be no place safe from me. And don't think I couldn't do it, Thirrin, Queen of Icemark, because I can assure you, I could.”

“But you are human, and just like the rest of us you have the potential to be both a devil and an angel. There's no such thing as an evil race, just a human race.--Cressida”

“Aren't there going to be any refreshments?" Tharamn interrupted. "I always think better with a little snack to keep me going.""I'm with you there," said Grishmak. "Bring on the nibbles!""There aren't any!" Cressida snapped. "This is all far too important, and besides, once you lot start easting, it'll only turn into a party." "Can't say I have a problem with that myself," said Tharaman. "What about you, Grishy?""None at all. Bit of food and fun helps the boring bits along, in my opinion. Let's call a chamberlain and order some grub.""No!" Cressida insisted. "We all need to concentrate, and I for one find it difficult to think one you and Tharaman start cracking bones and spitting out gristle.""I never spit out gristle!" said Tharaman in miffed tones. "A terrible wast of protein. It just needs a little extra chewing, that's all."Thirrin had watched the exchange in silence, but now she sat forward in her chair. "Actually I wouldn't mind a sandwich myself."Cressida looked at her thunderously.”

“To a happy war!' laughter echoed with all the insane glee of an army of psychopaths.”