In a month, the passes into Teutlandt and Skanida will be open and my companion and I will be on our way." He paused and Philemon frowned, trying to understand what he was being told. You want us to come with you?" he asked, at last. "You expect us to follow you?" Halt shook his head. "I have no wish to ever see any of you again," he said flatly.

Sometimes I'm so devious I confuse myself.

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.

I'm not really interested in being king. I prefer to work for a living

Once you best a man, never gloat. Be generous and find something in his actions to praise. He won't enjoy being bested but he'll make a good face about it. Show him you appreciate it. Praise can win you a friend. Gloating will only ever make enemies.

Problems postponed have a habit of solving themselves

Several of them were discussing this in low tones as they waited for Halt to arrive - until they realized that he was already among them. They weren't used to this. Kings were supposed to sweep into a room majestically - not suddenly appear without anyone seeing their arrival.