Halt! How are you? What have you been doing? Where's Abelard? How's Crowley? What's this all about?" "I'm glad to see you rate my horse more important than our Corps Commandant," Halt said, one eyebrow rising in the expression that Will knew so well. Early in their relationship, he had thought it was an expression of displeasure. He had learned years ago that it was, for Halt, the equivalent of a smile.

Remember, this thing is small. It's not like the wolfships. It'll ride over the waves, not crash through them. So we're safe as houses." He wasn't sure about the last two statements, but they seemed logical to him.

You spoil your horse, Halt said. Will glanced at him. You spoil yours. Halt considered the thought, then nodded. That's true.

Keep practicing," he told her."Until I get it right?" she said. But he corrected her."No. Until you don't get it wrong.

You surely can't be trying to blame us for Erak's habit of charging ashore waving an axe and grabbing everything that isn't nailed down? No offence, Svengal." Svengal shrugged. "None taken. It's a pretty accurate description of Erak on a raid, as a matter of fact.

There's nothing honerable in a man who hides behind a blue woman's hanky.

Horace normally didn't need anyone else to save his life. He was pretty skilled at doing it for himself.