A good leader is someone who knows what he's bad at, and hires someone who's good at it to take care of it for him.

Shut up, Axl!" he whispered fiercly. "If you want to break your neck, do it quietly or I'll break it for you.

Looks like he's lost a guinea and found a farthing," Horace said, then added, unnecessarily, "Will, I mean." Halt turned in his saddle to regard the younger man and raised an eyebrow. "I may be almost senile in your eyes, Horace, but there's no need to explain the blindly obvious to me. I'd hardly have thought you were referring to Tug.

I'll be getting you for this,' Halt had told him as he dabbed the diguisting mixture on the worst of the cuts. 'That soot is filthy. I'll probably come down with half a dozen infections.' Probably,' Horace had replied, distracted by his task. 'But we'll only need you for today.' Which was not a very comforting thought for Halt.

Remember no one expects you to be Halt. He's a legend, after all. Haven't you heard? He's eight feet tall and kills bears with his bare hands.

You're not built for riding, either," Horace added. "I'd say more saddle sore than homesick." Svenal sighed ruefully, shifting his buttocks for the twentieth time to find a more comfortable spot. "It's true," he said. "I've been discovering parts of my backside I never knew existed.

How can you stay so calm?" It helps if you're terrified.