“Military folk," Neal said with exaggerated patience, shaking his head. "The only way you know to solve problems is by beating them with a stick.”

“Does your ma know you're this silly?" she demanded tartly.He nodded, comically sad. "The few gray hairs she has on her head are my doing. But" — with an exaggerated change of mood — "I send her plenty of money, so she can pay to have them dyed!""I hope she beat you as a child," Onua grumbled.”

“Raoul: Age and treachery!Neal: Youth and skill!”

“Folk caught up in a riot aren't our cousins and sisters, our brothers and uncles. They are part of a big animal with many arms and claws, armed with stones and sticks.”

“You know something? There are sandstorms that strip man and horse and bury them — I've seen them. I saw bones piled higher than my head for the folly of a bad king and those who wanted his throne. I lived through a blizzard that froze every other living creature solid. Against those things, you're only a man. I can deal with you.”

“Pride is something only folk with money can afford.”

“WE do try to eat," Raoul called back to her [Kel]. I go all faint if I don't get fed regularly. Only think of the disgrace to the King's Own if I fell from the saddle.""But there was that time in Fanwood," a voice behind them said."That wedding in Tameran," added the blonde Sergeant Osbern, riding a horse-length behind Kel."Don't forget when what's-his-name, with the army, retired," yelled a third."Silence, insubordinate curs!" cried Raoul. "Do not sully my new squire's ears with your profane tales!""Even if they're TRUE?" That was Dom. It seemed Neal wasn't the only family member versed in irony.”