“They agreed on a rendezvous, and Laurent took off with the restrained urgency of a man who has to find some way to hide sixteen hands of bay gelding behind a shrub.”

“He became aware of a man drawnalongside them, frozen in stillness evenin the midst of battle, andknew that what had just happened hadbeen seen, and overheard.He turned, the truth on his face. Strippedbare, he could not hide himself in thatmoment. Laurent, he thought, and liftedhis gaze to meet the eyes of the man whohad witnessed the last words of LordTouars.It wasn't Laurent. It was Jord.He was staring at Damen in horror, hissword lax in his hand.”

“Damen watched as alone, unattended, Laurent had left his own banquet to find him, to follow him here, up the worn steps out onto the battlements. Laurent fitted himself next to him, a comfortable, unobtrusive presence that took up room in Damen's chest. They stood on the edge of the fort they had won together.”

“Laurent wasn't loved. Laurent wasn't liked. Even among his own men, who would follow him off a cliff, there was the unequivocal consensus that Laurent was, as Orlant had once described him, a cast iron bitch, that it was a very bad idea to get on his bad side, and that as for his good side, he didn't have one.”

“Damen pushed himself up on an elbow, and propped his head on his hand, his fingers in his hair. He saw that Laurent was looking at him. Not watching him, as he did sometimes, but looking at him, as a man might look at a carving that has caught his attention.”

“He was under no illusion that he was going to be taken to the campfire to roll around with Laurent. If anything, he was going to be taken to the campfire to watch Laurent do some inventive sidestepping.”

“I'm not going to use the knife," saidDamen, "but if you're willing to put it inmy hand, you underestimate how much Iwant to.""No," said Laurent, "I know exactly whatit is to want to kill a man, and to wait.”