Face your fears, Halt had always thought him, and more often than not they fade like mist in the sunshine

As he poured carefully, Arrow's head turned toward the sound. The horse made a low grumbling noise in his throat. "Hold your horses," he said. The he laughed. It seemed absurd to say tat to a horse.

You're a dead man, Arratay," Jerrel said through clenched teeth. Halt smiled. "That's been said before. Yet here I am.

Tug looked nervously at his master. Horses aren't supposed to fly, he seemed to be saying.

Gorlog's teeth!" Erak exclaimed, stunned at the numbers. "How many are there?" "Ten thousand, maybe twelve," Halt replied briefly. The Skandian let out a low whistle. "Are you sure? How can you tell?" It wasn't a sensible question, but Erak was overwhelmed by the size of the horse herd and he asked the question more for something to say than for any other reason. Halt looked at him dryly. "It's an old calvary trick," he said. "You count the legs and divide by four.

You're a very amusing fellow," he told Halt. "I'd like to brain you with my ax one of these days." Erak to Halt.

You've always said I should have an inquiring mind," she said. "I have. But not an interrupting one.