What are you looking at, foreigner?” the guard demanded roughly. The smile was a little unsettling. A prisoner shouldn’t smile at his captors like that. “I’m just making sure I can remember you,” Gilan told him. “Never know when that might be useful.

Halt snorted derisively. "Battleschool evidently isn't what it used to be," he replied. "It's a fine thing when an old man like me can sleep comfortably in the open while a young boy gets all stiff and rheumatic over it." Horace shrugged. "Be that as it may," he replied, "I'll still be glad to sleep in a bed tonight." Actually, Halt felt the same way. But he wasn't going to let Horace no that.

Horace, who had been trying to find out the meaning of Kurokuma for some time now, was pleased to hear the translation. "Black bear," he repeated. "It's undoubtedly because I'm so terrible in battle." "I'd guess so," Will put in. "I've seen you in battle and you're definitely terrible.

Well I'm not dancing," Will said through gritted teeth. "I don't know how." Oh yes you are," Alyss told him. "Let's hope you're a fast learner." He glanced at her and saw no prospect of escape. "Well,at least I won't be the only one," he said. "Halt will be terrible too." But nobody in the assembly knew tat for the past ten days, Halt had been taking dance lessons from Lady Sandra.

Take one more step and I'll put an arrow through you." Will tried to model his voice on the quiet, threatening tone Halt had used. He had retrieved several of his arrows from the nearest target and now he had one of them ready, laid on the bowstring. Halt glanced around approvingly. "Good idea," he said. "Aim for the left calf. It's a very painful wound.

He could bear the dying, but not the disappointment.

An ordinary archer practices until he gets it right. A ranger practices until he never gets it wrong.