Halt regarded him. He loved Horace like a younger brother. Even like a second son, after Will. He admired his skill with a sword and his courage in battle. But sometimes, just sometimes, he felt an overwhelming desire to ram the young warrior's head against a convenient tree. "You have no sense of drama or symbolism, do you?" he asked. "Huh?" replied Horace, not quite understanding. Halt looked around for a convenient tree. Luckily for Horace, there were none in sight.
John FlanaganMen... performed better when they understood why they were being asked to carry out a task.
John FlanaganYou're right, Halt,' she said, and he nodded acklowledgement of her backing down. 'Nice to hear someone else saying that for a change,' Will said cheerfully. 'Seems like I've said those words an awful lot in my time.' Halt turned a bleak gaze on him. 'And you've always been right.
John FlanaganShut up, Axl!" he whispered fiercly. "If you want to break your neck, do it quietly or I'll break it for you.
John Flanagan