“I wanted to tell you that, because you,"said Laurent, as though he was forcingthe words out, "You remind me of him.He was the best man I have ever known.You deserve to know that, as youdeserve atleast a fair . . . In Arles, I treated youwith malice and cruelty. I will not insultyou by attempting to atone for deedswith words, but I would not treat youthat way again. I was angry. Angry, thatisn't the word.”

“You remind me of him. He was the best man I have ever known.”

“If you bind your men to you with deception, how can you ever trust them? You have qualities they will come to admire. Why not let them grow to trust you naturally, and in that way--' 'There isn't time,' said Laurent. The words pushed themselves with sheer force out of whatever wordless state Laurent had been shocked into. 'There isn't time,' Laurent said again. 'I have two weeks until we reach the border. Don't pretend that I can woo these men with hard work and a winning smile in that time. I am not the green colt my uncle pretends. I fought at Marlas and I fought at Sanpelier. I am not here for niceties. I don't intend to see the men I lead cut down because they will not obey orders, or because they cannot hold a line. I intend to survive, I intend to beat my uncle, and I will fight with every weapon that I have.”

“I remember. You take a great deal ofpleasure in small victories." Damenquoted Laurent's words back to him."It's not small," said Laurent. "It's thefirst time I've ever won a play againstmy uncle.”

“No," said Laurent, almost as if he wasrealising it for the first time. "I don'tthink you would. But I know you don'tlike it. I remember how much itmaddened you in the palace, to be boundand powerless. I felt yesterday howbadly you wanted to hit someone."Damen found he'd moved withoutrealising it, his fingers lifting to touchthe bruised edge of Laurent's jaw.He said, "The man who did this to you.”

“I lack," said Laurent, "the easy mannerisms that are usually shared with," you could see him pushing the words out, "a lover.""You lack the easy mannerisms that are usually shared with anyone," said Damen.”

“It’s not naive to trust your family.’ ‘I promise you, it is,’ said Laurent. ‘But I wonder, is it less naive than the moments when I find myself trusting a stranger, my barbarian enemy, whom I do not treat gently.”