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.

Never take your eyes off them,” Horace said to Gilan, in an admonishing tone. “Didn’t MacNeil ever tell you that?

The two girls disappeared into the stern cabin once more. Will watched them go, then asked Halt, 'Anything you'd like me to do? Grow a beard? Learn to walk like a rooster?' 'If you could stop asking facetious questions, that'd be a start,' Halt told him. 'But it's probably a little late in life for you to do that.

But then, in his lifetime, Halt had often ignored what was technically legal. Technicalities didn't appeal to him. All too often, they simply got in the way of doing the right thing.

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.

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

Best way then is to be waiting for them to bring Halt and the others out of that prison,” he said, almost to himself. “There’s only one reason I can think of that they might do that,” Umar said. “That’s if they are going to execute them.” Will lookd at him for several seconds before speaking. “Well, that’s a big comfort.