Problems postponed have a habit of solving themselves

It formed into small drops on his weather beaten features, drops that rolled down his cheeks. Strangely, some of them tasted like salt.

Now," said Halt, "all I have to do is work out a way of beating these horse-riding devils." Erak grinned at him. "That should be child's play," he said. "The hard part will be convincing Ragnak about it.

But if we’re going to kill them all, we might as well make an occasion of it.” Toshak shrugged. “Do as you wish,” he said. “Occasion or not, as long as they’re all dead, I’m happy.

Gundar isn't so much a ship's captain as a reformed pirate and a heathen." [Evanlyn] looked apologetically at Gundar. "No offense, Gundar." The skirl shrugged cheerfully. "None taken, little lady. It's a pretty fair description. Not sure about the reformed part," he added thoughtfully.

I'll find you, Will!" Then the wind filled the big, square sail of the wolfship and she heeled away from the shore, moving faster and faster towards the northeast. For a long time after she'd dropped below the horizon, the sodden figure sat there, his horse chest-deep in the rolling waves, staring after the ship. And his lips still moved, in a silent promis only he could hear.

Now, if you two will excuse us, we'll get back to the relatively simple buisness of planning a war," he said. -Baron Arald