Hadrian Quotes

I need your help."
Royce looked up as if his head weighed a hundred pounds, his eyes red, his face ashen. He waited.
"One last job," Hadrian told him, then added, "I promise."
"Is it dangerous?"
"Very."
"Is there a good chance I'll get killed?"
"Odds are definitely in favor of that."
Royce nodded, looked down at the scarf in his lap, and replied, "Okay. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

You alive?" Hadrian asked.

"If I were dead, I don't think there'd be geese." Royce tilted his head up to catch the arrow of birds heading south. "But maybe they're evil geese."

"Evil geese?"

"We have no idea what goes on in the water fowl world. They might have been a gang that stole eggs or something."

"I'm guessing you have a fever. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Royce saw to his horse's needs; then, finding a suitable place, he unrolled his blanket and lay down.

"I take it we're camping here, then?"

Royce said nothing, still refusing to acknowledge his existence.

"You could have said, 'We're going to bed down here for the rest of the night.' No, wait, you're right, too much. How about 'sleeping here'? Two words. Even you could manage that, right? I mean, I know you can talk. You had plenty to say back in Arcadius's office. Couldn't keep the words from coming out then, but no, utterly impossible to indicate in any way that we'll be stopping here for the night."

Hadrian dismounted and began unloading Dancer. "How long were we on the road?" He paused to look up at the moon. "What? Five, six hours? Not a damn word. Getting chilly out, don't you think, Hadrian? Moon looks like a fingernail, ain't that right, Hadrian? That tree looks like a goddamn bear, don't it, Hadrian? Nothing. By the way, in case you hadn't noticed, I was attacked by a goshawk and a pig-riding dwarf that shot eggs at me with a sling. I was knocked from my horse and wrestled with the dwarf, the hawk, and the pig for what had to be half an hour. The dwarf kept smashing eggs in my face, and that ruddy pig pinned me down, licking them off. I only got away because the dwarf ran out of eggs. Then the hawk turned into a moth that became distracted by the light of the moon."
Royce shifted to his side, hood up.

"Yeah, ~ Michael J. Sullivan

You came all this way for a whore?" Albert asked, and Royce shot him a harsh look.

"Don't call her that if you want to live a long and happy life," Hadrian said as they dismounted.

"But this is a whorehouse - a brothel, right? And you're here to see a woman, so - "

"So keep talking, Albert." Hadrian tied his horse to the post. "Just let me get farther away."

Gwen saved our lives," Royce said, looking up at the porch. "I beat on doors. I even yelled for help." He looked at Albert, letting that image sink in. Yes, I yelled for help. "No one cared." Royce gestured toward Hadrian. "He was dying in a pool of blood, and I was about to pass out. Broken leg, my side sliced open, the world spinning. Then she was there saying, 'I've got you. You'll be all right now.' We would have died in the mud and the rain, but she took us in, nursed us back to health. People were after us - lots of people … lots of powerful people - but she kept us hidden for weeks, and she never asked for payment or explanation. She never asked for anything." Royce turned back to Albert. "So if you call her a whore again, I'll cut your tongue out and nail it to your chest."

Albert nodded. "Point taken."

Royce climbed the steps to the House and rapped once.

Albert leaned over to Hadrian and whispered, "He knocks at a - "

"Royce can still hear you." Hadrian stopped him.

"Really?"

"Pretty sure. You have no id ~ Michael J. Sullivan

At that period I paid as constant attention to the greater securing of my happiness, to enjoying and judging it, too, as I had always done for the smallest details of my acts; and what is the act of love, itself, if not a moment of passionate attention on the part of the body? Every bliss achieved is a masterpiece; the slightest error turns it awry, and it alters with one touch of doubt; any heaviness detracts from its charm, the least stupidity renders it dull. My own felicity is in no way responsible for those of my imprudences which shattered it later on; in so far as I have acted in harmony with it I have been wise. I think still that someone wiser than I might well have remained happy till his death. ~ Marguerite Yourcenar

The true birthplace is that wherein for the first time one looks intelligently upon oneself; my first homelands have been books, and to a lesser degree schools. ~ Marguerite Yourcenar

Hadrian took the opportunity to move over and join Royce, who sat with his back to the hearth and his sight on the windows. "I'd say you're being awfully quiet, but then I might as well follow with 'Oh look, you're breathing. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

As they climbed into their saddles, Myron bowed his head and muttered a soft prayer.
"There," Hadrian told Royce, "we've got Maribor on our side. Now you can relax."
"Actually," Myron said sheepishly, "I was praying for the horses. But I will pray for you as well," he added hastily. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Lucilla saw Verus die, and then Lucilla died. Secunda saw Maximus die, and then Secunda died. Epitynchanus saw Diotimus die, and Epitynchanus died. Antoninus saw Faustina die, and then Antoninus died. Such is everything. Celer saw Hadrian die, and then Celer died. And those sharp-witted men, either seers or men inflated with pride, where are they? For instance the sharp-witted men, Charax and Demetrius the Platonist and Eudaemon, and any one else like them. All ephemeral, dead long ago. Some indeed have not been remembered even for a short time, and others have become the heroes of fables, and again others have disappeared even from fables. Remember this then, that this little compound, thyself, must either be dissolved, or thy poor breath must be extinguished, or be removed and placed elsewhere. ~ Marcus Aurelius

I have no quarrel with you," Viktor said, speaking to the four men that came to Chris and Alex's side. "I have no interest in fighting any of you. My enemy is only Christopher Adams."

"That's the thing," Neriah said. "You mess with one of us..."

"…you mess with all of us," Hadrian finished with a smirk. ~ S.F. Mazhar

But we are sailors - served on the Endeavor."

"Are you, now?" the ship's master asked skeptically. "Let me see yer hands."

The master examined Hadrian's palms, looking over the various calluses and rough places while grunting occasionally. "You must have spent most of your time in the galley. You've not done any serious rope work." He examined Royce's hands and raised an eyebrow at him. "Have you ever been on a ship before? It's certain you've never handled a sheet or a capstan."

"Royce here is a - you know - " Hadrian pointed up at the ship's rigging. "The guy who goes up there."

The master shook his head and laughed. "If you two are seamen, then I'm the Prince of Percepliquis!"

"Oh, but they are, Mr. Temple," a voice declared. Wyatt exited the forecastle and came jogging toward them. A bright white shirt offset his tawny skin and black hair. "I know these men, old mates of mine. The little one is Royce Melborn, as fine a topman as they come. And the big one is, ah …"

"Hadrian." Royce spoke up.

"Right, of course. Hadrian's a fine cook - he is, Mr. Temple."

Temple pointed toward Royce. "This one's a topman? Are you joking, Wyatt?"

"No, sir, he's one of the best."

Temple looked unconvinced.

"You can have him prove it to you, sir," Hadrian offered. "You could have him race your best up the ropes."

"You mean up the shrouds," Wyatt said, correcting h ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Enough of the lessons," Mauvin said, clearly irritated at being the illustration of a fencing mistake. "Let's show him a real demonstration."

"Looking for a rematch?" Hadrian asked.

"Curious if it was luck."

Hadrian smiled and muttered, "Pickerings."

He took off his shirt and, wiping his face and hands, threw it on the grass and raised his sword to ready position. Mauvin lunged and immediately the two began to fight. The swords sang as they cut the air so fast their movements blurred. Hadrian and Mauvin danced around on the balls of their feet, shuffling in the dirt so briskly that a small cloud rose to knee height.

"By Mar!" the old farmer exclaimed.

Then abruptly they stopped, both panting from the exertion.

Mauvin glared at Hadrian with a look that was both amazed and irritated. "You're playing with me."

"I thought that was the point. You don't really want me to kill you?"

"Well no, but - well, like he said - by Mar! I've never seen anyone fight like you do; you're amazing."

"I thought you both were pretty amazing," Theron remarked. "I've never seen anything like that. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Did you save any?" Royce asked.
"Any what?"
"Of those eggs. If you did, we could cook them for breakfast in the morning."
Hadrian lay silent for a moment confused; then it hit him and he almost laughed. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Animula vagula blandula
Hospes comesque corporis
Quae nunc abibis? In Loca
Pallidula rigida nudula
nec ut soles dabis Iocos.
Little soul, you charming little wanderer, my body's guest and partner,
where are you off to now?
somewhere without colour, savage and bare;
You'll crack no more of your jokes once you're there. ~ Hadrian

Degan struck the wall with the back of his head, bounced off, and fell to his knees. Hadrian felt the pain in his knuckles and only then realized he had hit him.

Gaunt glared up, his eyes watering, his hands cupping his face. "Crazy fool! Are you mad?"

"What's going on?" Arista called back down the line.

"This idiot just punched me in the face! My nose is bleeding!"

"Hadrian did?" the princess said, stunned.

"It was… an accident," Hadrian replied, knowing it sounded feeble, but not knowing how else to describe his actions. He had not meant to hit Gaunt; it had just happened.

"You accidentally punched him?" Wyatt asked, suppressing a chuckle. "I'm not sure you have a full understanding of the whole bodyguard thing."

"Hadrian!" Royce called.

"What?" he shouted back, irritated that even Royce was going to join in this embarrassing moment.

"Come up here. I need you to look at something."

Degan was still on his knees in a pool of water. "Um - sorry 'bout that."

"Get away from me!"

Hadrian moved up the line as Wyatt, Elden, and Myron pressed themselves against the walls to let him pass, each one looking at him curiously.

"What did he do?" Arista whispered as he reached her.

"Nothing, really."

Her eyebrows rose. "You punched him for no reason?"

"Well, no, but - it's complicated. I'm not even sure I understand ~ Michael J. Sullivan

They came to a bend in the road where it turned more west than north, and there at the turn was a squat fir tree that for the last quarter mile Hadrian had suspected might be a bear.

Coincidentally, at the same time as they passed the tree, Hadrian finally reached the conclusion that Arcadius was senile. The man was old to be sure. Older than anyone he'd ever met. Older even than his father, who at the time of his departure was the oldest man in Hintindar-though everyone said he carried his age well. The professor didn't carry his age well at all, and old folks sometimes went batty. One didn't even need to be that old. Hadrian knew a warlord in the Gur Em who spoke of himself as if he were another person in the room. Sometimes he got in arguments to the point of refusing to speak to himself anymore and insisted others relay messages "to that idiot." And the warlord was nowhere near Arcadius's age. The best that could be said for Arcadius was that he carried his insanity well. So well in fact that it took Hadrian all the way to the bear tree to conclude the professor was crazy.

He had to be. There was just no sense in asking him to pair up with Royce. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Will nodded toward Hadrian. Look at the swords he's carrying. A man wearing one - maybe he knows how to use it, maybe not. A man carries two - he probably don't know nothing about swords, but he wants you to think he does. But a man carrying three swords - that's a lot of weight. No one's gonna haul that much steel around unless he makes a living using them. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

So," Royce said, "you want us to escape from this prison, kidnap the king, cross the countryside with him in tow while dodging soldiers who I assume might not accept our side of the story, and go to another secret prison so that he can visit an inmate?"
Arista did not appear amused. "Either that, or you can be tortured to death in four hours."
"Sounds like a really good plan to me," Hadrian declared."Royce?"
"I like any plan where I don't die a horrible death. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

My God," Hadrian said. "They finally did it! All those oh-so-cute-my-cuddly-kitten-here's-a-pic bastard! They finally went and did it! ~ Steven Erikson

Wake up, buddy," Royce whispered, nudging him. Hadrian was damp with sweat.

"About time you got here. I was starting to think you ran off and left me."

"I considered it, but the thought of Magnus as my best man kinda forced the issue. Nice haircut, by the way. It looks good on you - very knightly. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Royce decided to try to reason with Hadrian. "Would you rather they find out and send a detachment to hunt us down?"

"No, I just hate being the cause of an innocent man's death."

"No one is innocent, my friend. And you aren't the cause … You're more like" - he searched for words - "the grease beneath the skids."

"Thanks. I feel so much better. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

You realize we can't go back to Sheridan."

"I know."

"Have to keep heading southwest now, and I don't know anything about the area. We'll probably get lost or walk into a road and a patrol."

"Well"-Hadrian looked down at Royce's side-"you're bleeding again, and I think I am, too, so the good news is we'll likely die before morning. Still, I suppose it could be worse."

"How?"

"They could have caught us at the tavern, or we could have drowned in that river."

"Either way we'd be dead. At this point I'm inclined to see that as better off."

"Anything can always be worse," Hadrian assured him.

They lay staring up at the sky and watching clouds blot out the stars. Royce heard it before he felt it. A distant patter on the blades of grass along the hillside. He turned once more to Hadrian. "I'm really starting to hate you. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Royce looked back down at the stream below. "She doesn't even know me. What if she doesn't like me? Few people do."
"She might not at first. Maribor knows I didn't. But you have a way of growing on a person." He smiled. "You know, like lichen or mold. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Just - don't - move," Guy said with his hands spread out in front of him. He looked as if he were trying to catch a wild horse, and did not advance, dismount, or draw his sword.
Just then the portcullis dropped.
"There's no escape," Guy assured him.
From a nearby door, a handful of guards trotted toward Hadrian with their swords drawn.
"Stop!" Guy ordered, raising his hand abruptly. "Don't go near him. Just fan out."
The men waiting in line looked from the soldiers to Hadrian and then backed away.
"I know what you're thinking, Mr. Blackwater," Guy said in an almost friendly tone. "But we truly have you outnumbered this time. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

There," Hadrian said. "Problem solved, and you aren't wanted for murder. Isn't that nice?"

"It's only nice not being wanted for murder if you've actually killed someone. Otherwise, what's the point? Besides, what makes you think I'm not wanted for murder? ~ Michael J. Sullivan

We lose track of everything, and of everyone, even ourselves. The facts of my father's life are less known to me than those of the life of Hadrian. My own existence, if I had to write of it, would be reconstructed by me from externals, laboriously, as if it were the life of someone else: I should have to turn to letters, and to the recollections of others, in order to clarify such uncertain memories. What is ever left but crumbled walls, or masses of shade? ~ Marguerite Yourcenar

Look out, Hadrian," he shouted. "It's an ambush, there's two of them! ~ Paul Bannister

Daniel was in the greatest credit amongst the Jews, till the reign of the Roman Emperor Hadrian . And to reject his prophecies, is to reject the Christian religion. For this religion is founded upon his prophecy concerning the Messiah . ~ Isaac Newton

I suspect she, or someone she reports to, read the note I left in my pack."
"You left a note for the thieves' guild? What did it say?"
"Just that they were my animals and that they might want to reconsider taking them."
Albert and Hadrian exchanged looks of bewilderment.
"They know me, and we have an arrangement. They leave me alone…and I leave them alone."
"You leave them alone?" Albert said in a mocking tone.
Royce smiled at him. It was not a friendly smile. Royce searched his pack and pulled out a small bit of parchment.
"What's it say?" Albert asked.
"Please accept our apologies for this inconvenience," Royce recited, then chuckled before finishing. "The bitch didn't know."
Royce held up the parchment and in a loud voice said, "Accepted. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Hadrian drew two swords from his sides in a single elegant motion. He flipped one around
letting it spin against his palm once. "Need to get a new grip on this one. It's starting to fray again." He looked at Will. "Shall we get on with this? I believe you were about to rob us. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

It's strange. I keep forgetting you don't have hands," Hadrian commented.

"I don't," the wizard replied coldly. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Wait a minute," Hadrian said. "Was it a beat-up brown leather notebook?
About this big?" He gestured with his hands.
"Yes," the Patriarch said.
Arista looked back and forth between them. "How do you know that?"
"I know it because I have lived in the Crown Tower," the Patriarch
said.
"And you?" Arista looked at Hadrian, who hesitated.
"Ha-ha! Of course, of course. I knew it!" Cosmos DeLur chuckled and
clapped his hands together in single applause while smiling at Hadrian.
"Such a wonderfully delightful rumor as that had to be true. That is
an exquisite accomplishment."
"You stole it?" Arista asked.
"Yes, he did," the Patriarch declared.
"Actually," Hadrian said, "Royce and I did, but we put it back the next night. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Life can be mysterious- particularly if your in love. ~ Ronald Hadrian

Hadrian turned to look out at the lake. "I hear they have good fishing."

Royce lifted his head to look at him. "You're a very odd man."

"You were the one talking about evil geese . ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Good afternoon," Hadrian offered, but no one replied. No one smiled.

Some whispered in the shelter of doorways. Mothers pulled children inside and men picked up pitchforks or axes.

"This is where you grew up?" Arista whispered to Hadrian. "Somehow it seems more like how I would imagine Royce's hometown to be."

This brought a look from Royce.

"They don't get too many travelers here," Hadrian explained.

"I can see why. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

I should have let you kill him."

Silence.

"You're nodding, aren't you?"

"I didn't say a word."

"Bastard," Hadrian grumbled.

"You know the worst thing?"

"I've got a pretty long list of bad things right now, and I'm not sure which one I would put on top. So I'll bite. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

So you have been paying attention."
"I'm not as stupid as you think I am."
"You have no idea how stupid I think you are, and honestly, we don't have time for that conversation."
Hadrian scowled. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Hadrian walked over to where the boys were fighting and sat on the grass near Denek to watch. Denek, who was only twelve years old, glanced at him curiously. "Who are you?"

"My name is Hadrian," he replied as he extended his hand. The boy shook it, squeezing harder than was necessary. "You're Denek, right? The Pickerings' third son? Perhaps you should speak with my friend Myron, seeing as how I hear you are monastery-bound."

"Am not!" he shouted. "Going to the monastery, I mean. I can fight as well as Fanen."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Hadrian said. "Fanen is flat-footed, and his balance is off. He's not going to improve much either, because Mauvin is teaching him, and Mauvin is favoring his right and rocks back on his left too much."

Denek grinned at Hadrian and then turned to his brothers. "Hadrian says you both fight like girls!"

"What's that?" Mauvin said, whacking aside Fanen's loose attack once more.

"Oh, ah, nothing," Hadrian said, trying to recant, and glared at Denek, who just kept grinning. "Thanks a lot," he told the boy. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Royce traveled wrapped in his cloak with the weight of the rain collapsing the hood around his head - not a good sign for Thranic and Bernie. Until then, Royce had played the part of the good little sailor, but with the reemergence of the hood, and the loss of his white kerchief, Hadrian knew that role had ended. They had not spoken much since the attack. Not surprisingly, Royce was in no mood for idle discussion. Hadrian guessed that by now his friend had imagined killing Thranic a dozen times, with a few Bernies thrown in here and there for variety. Hadrian had seen Royce wounded before and was familiar with the cocooning - only what would emerge from that cloak and hood would not be a butterfly. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

It's not that we don't trust you," Royce said as Hadrian prepared the bow. "It's just that we've learned over the years that honor among nobles is usually inversely proportionate to their rank. As a result, we prefer to rely on more concrete methods for motivations - such as self-preservation. You already know we don't want you dead, but if you have ever been riding full tilt and had a horse buckle under you, you understand that death is always a possibility, and broken bones are almost a certainty."
"There's also the danger of missing the horse completely," Hadrian added. "I'm a good shot, but even the best archers have bad days. So to answer your question - yes, you can control your own horse. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

She regretted volunteering, as getting off the ship required wading in chest-deep water. It was very cold and took her breath away. Her robe billowed around her as she struggled to find traction in the ground below.

A strong wave struck her from behind and she started to fall face forward. Hadrian caught her by the elbow and held her up.

"Thank you. I thought I was going for a swim there," she told him.

"Bad form on the wave's part, sneaking up and attacking you from the back like that."

"Not very chivalrous, was it?"

"Not at all - I'd complain. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Are you - " Hadrian began, but stopped. For the first time since their capture, he felt hopeful but thought better of it. He turned to Royce. "Is she being sarcastic? You can usually tell better than I. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

There were times Hadrian wondered if Royce was actually a cat that some mischievous witch had turned into a man and then lost track of. The similarities were too numerous to be coincidental. An irritatingly-superior aloof nature, fastidiousness, a habit of roaming at night, and his general propensity for solitude were all evidence. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Been meddling, have you?" Royce asked, looking around at the hive of activity.
"You must admit they didn't have much in the way of a defense plan,"
Hadrian said, pausing to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
Royce smiled at him. "You just can't help yourself, can you? ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Captain! You can't hold them off! I tried! I swear! They've been artificially enhanced, sir! But all the humans died out - there's bones out there by the millions! They were all suffocated by cuteness! The World is full of kiitens, oh the horror!
'My God,' Hadrian said. They've finally did it! All those oh-so-cute-my-cuddy-kittens-here's-a-pic bastards! They finally went and did it! ~ Steven Erikson

How's your foot?" Hadrian asked.
"It hurts."
"He had a good hold."
"Bit right through my boot."
"Yeah, that looked painful."
"So why exactly didn't you help?"
Hadrian shrugged. "It was a dog, Royce. A cute, little dog. What did you want me to do, kill
an innocent little animal?"
Royce tilted his head, squinting into the light of the late evening sun to focus on his friend.
"Is that a joke?"
"It was a puppy."
"It was not a puppy, and it was eating my foot."
"Yeah, but you were invading his home."
....
"You know, you didn't have to throw it out the window," Hadrian said as they walked.
Royce, who was still preoccupied with his foot, looked up. "What did you want me to do
with it? Scratch behind the little monster's ears as it gnawed my toes off? What if it started barking?
That would have been a fine mess."
"It's a good thing there was a moat right under the window."
Royce stopped. "There was? ~ Michael J. Sullivan

The memory of most men is an abandoned cemetery where lie, unsung and unhonored, the dead whom they have ceased to cherish. Any lasting grief is reproof to their neglect. ~ Marguerite Yourcenar

(Hadrian Blackwater while poisoned) Gill the fish ... rest is best ... time is now ... it feels so good to ... ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Dear Maribor, you're heavy," Hadrian growled as he untied the rope.

"No, I'm not. You're wounded." Royce moved his hand and felt the blood-soaked clothes. "God, we're bleeding like a slit throat."

"You're bleeding more than me," Hadrian said.

"Oh, does that make you feel better?"

"Actually it does. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

He gave him a second, then in a bright tone said, "How is it we never had king and emperor on our list of potential careers? When you think about it, it beats the heck out of winemakers, actors, and fishermen."

"You always think everything is so easy," Royce replied, wiping his eyes.

"I'm just a glass-half-full kinda guy. How's your glass looking these days?"

"I have no idea. I'm still trying to get over the sheer size of it."

Hadrian nodded. "Speaking of glasses…" He lifted his head when he heard the sound of a fiddle and pipe. He put his arm around Royce's shoulder and led him off the bridge. "How about a nice pint of Armigil's brew?"

"You know I hate beer."

"Well, I'm not sure you can really call what she brews beer. Think of it more as… an experience. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

No one said a word for some time. Everyone stared at Hadrian in wonder, including Albert, whose mouth hung agape.

It was the duchess who finally found words to sum up their collective thoughts. "Well, aren't you just an astonishment topped with surprises! ~ Michael J. Sullivan

The first step: Don't be anxious. Nature controls it all. And before long you'll be no one, nowhere - like Hadrian, like Augustus. The second step: Concentrate on what you have to do. Fix your eyes on it. Remind yourself that your task is to be a good human being; remind yourself what nature demands of people. Then do it, without hesitation, and speak the truth as you see it. But with kindness. With humility. Without hypocrisy. ~ Marcus Aurelius

What is it?" Hadrian asked.

"Fighting," he replied at last.

"Fighting? Who?" Hadrian asked.

"I can't hear the color of their uniforms." Royce smirked. "Soldiers, though. I hear swords on armor. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Another last-minute, good-deed job," Royce grumbled as he stuffed
supplies into his saddlebag.
"True," Hadrian said, slinging his sword belt over his shoulder, "but
this is at least a paying job."
"You should have told him the real reason we saved him from Trumbul
because we wouldn't see the hundred tenents otherwise."
"That was your reason. Besides, how often do we get to do royal contracts?
If word gets around, we'll be able to command top salaries."
"If word gets around, we'll be hanged. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

What is your name?"

"Finally decided to ask, eh?" Hadrian chuckled.

"I will need to know if I am going to book you passage."

"I can take care of that myself. Assuming, of course, you are actually taking me to a barge and not just to some dark corner where you'll clunk me on the head and do a more thorough job of robbing me."

Pickles looked hurt. "I would do no such thing. Do you think me such a fool? First, I have seen what you do to people who try to clunk you on the head . Second, we have already passed a dozen perfectly dark corners. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

There you are!" he shouted at them. "Father has half the castle turned
out looking for you."
"Us?" Hadrian asked.
"Yes." Fanen nodded. "He wants to see the two thieves in his chambers
right away."
"You didn't steal the silver or anything, did you, Royce?" Hadrian
asked.
"I would bet it has more to do with your flirting with Lenare this afternoon
and threatening Mauvin just to show off," Royce retorted.
"That was your fault," Hadrian said, jabbing his finger at him. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Hadrian was not convinced but knew there was no reason to argue further. Gwen was not the type for debate. Most women he knew invited discussion and even enjoyed arguments, but not Gwen. There was clarity to her thinking that let you know she had already made her own journey to the inevitable conclusion and was just politely waiting there for you to join her. In her own way, she was much like Royce - except for the polite waiting. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Something I notice speaking to writers from south of Hadrian's Wall is that the culture is different. At base, I think Scotland values its creative industries differently from England. ~ Sara Sheridan

Hadrian held the headphones close to one ear. "What is this, Eden? You're listening to music? Stupid, crappy music?"
The square-jawed man stared blankly at him. "It's Celine Dion, sir."
"Get security up here! I want this man in irons. Prepare the Dark Hole! ~ Steven Erikson

Sebastian nodded his way. "This is Hadrian … er, Hadrian…" He snapped his fingers and looked for help.

"Blackwater." He extended his hand and shook with each.

"And where do you hail from, Hadrian?" Eugene asked.

"Nowhere really."

"A man with no home?" Samuel's voice was nasal and a bit suspicious. Hadrian imagined him the type of man to count money handed him by a priest.

"What do you mean?" Eugene asked. "He came off the boat from Calis. We talked about it just last night."

"Don't be a fool, Eugene," Sebastian said. "Do you think Calians have sandy hair and blue eyes? Calians are swarthy brutes and clever beyond measure. Never trust one, any of you."

"What were you doing in Calis, then?" Eugene's tone was inquisitorial and spiteful, as if Hadrian had been the one to declare him foolish.

"Working."

"Making his fortune, I suspect," Sebastian said, motioning toward Hadrian. "The man wears a heavy purse. You should be half as successful, Eugene."

"All Calian copper dins, I'll wager." Eugene sustained his bitter tone. "If not, he'd have a fine wool robe like us."

"He wears a fine steel sword, two of them in fact. So you might consider your words more carefully," Sebastian said.

"Three," Samuel added. "He keeps another in his cabin. A big one."

"There you have it, Eugene. The man spends all his coin on steel, but by all means g ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Hadrian caught her arm. "You go back and we'll continue searching."
"I'm not going to rest while you risk your life. Are you nuts? You stay. I stay."
Hadrian cupped her cheek. "Think of the babies. They need their mother. You're much more fierce than I am. Go back and we'll keep looking."
She hated it whenever he pulled the children card on her. It was the one and only thing he knew she wouldn't argue against. "You're a rank bastard, Hadrian Scalera!"
Instead of getting angry, he flashed that charming grin that always melted her heart. "Hadrian Erixour." He pressed his helmet to hers and turned her around to head back without him. ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Very slowly Royce pushed the door inward, peering through the gap. He looked left and right, then closed it once more and replaced the bolts.
"What is it?" Hadrian asked.
"He's right," Royce said dismally. "No one is getting through."
Thranic smiled and nodded until he was beset by another series of coughs that bent him over in pain.
"What is it?" Hadrian repeated.
"You're not going to believe it."
"What?"
"There's a
a thingy."
"A what?"
"You know, a thingy thing."
Hadrian looked at him, puzzled.
"A Gilarabrywn," Thranic said. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Where are you from, Hadrian?" "Hintindar originally - a little village south of here in Rhenydd." "Originally? What's that supposed to mean? You got yourself born someplace else recently? ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Hadrian leapt to his feet. Royce was already up.
"Don't bother," Esrahaddon told them. "She's dead, and there's nothing you can do. The monster cannot be harmed by your weapons. It - "
The two were out the door. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

The guards at the gate nodded and smiled at them.

"I hate that," Royce muttered as they passed.

"What?"

"They didn't even think to stop us, and they actually smiled. They know us by sight now - by sight. Alric used to have the decency to send word discreetly and receive us unannounced. Now uniformed soldiers knock on the door in daylight, waving and saying, 'Hello, we have a job for you.'"

"He didn't wave."

"Give it time, he will be - waving and grinning. One day Jeremy will be buying drinks for his soldier buddies at The Rose and Thorn. They'll all be there, the entire sentry squad, laughing, smiling, throwing their arms over our shoulders and asking us to sing 'Calide Portmore' with them - 'Once more, with gusto!' And at some point one particularly sweaty ox will give me a hug and say how honored he is to be in our company."

"Jeremy?"

"What? That's his name."

"You know the name of the soldier at the gate?"

Royce scowled. "You see my point? Yes, I know his name and they know ours. We might as well wear uniforms and move into Arista's old room."

They climbed the stone steps to the main entrance, where a soldier quickly opened a door for them and gave a slight bow. "Master Melborn, Master Blackwater."

"Hey, Digby." Hadrian waved as he passed. When he caught Royce scowling, he added, "Sorry."

"It's a good thing we're both retired. You know, there's ~ Michael J. Sullivan

¨Oh goody! I can't wait! Jayne? Can we go get slaughtered by my brother I never knew I still had? Can we please!" -Hadrian ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Hadrian reeked of death. It wasn't the sort of stench others could smell or that water could wash, but it lingered on him like sweat-saturated pores after a long night of drinking. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Hadrian had always felt that cats were picky, untrusting things. Being fragile, they had to be. Whenever a cat sat on him, Hadrian felt special, as if the animal approved, and their acceptance was some sort of gift. Makes a body feel worthy of something to have a cat trust you that much. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

By the way," Hadrian began, "what was the real reason you didn't tell me?"
"Huh?"
"A bit ago you said - "
"Oh." Royce continued to study the walls. He seemed a little too preoccupied by them. Just as Hadrian was sure he would not answer, Royce said, "I didn't want you to leave."
Hadrian almost laughed at the comment, thinking it was a joke, and then nearly bit his tongue. Thinking of Royce as anything but callous was difficult. Then he realized Royce never had a family and precious few friends. He had grown up an orphan on the streets of Ratibor, stealing his food and clothes and likely receiving his share of beatings for it. He had probably joined the Diamond as much from a desire to belong as a means to profit. After only a few short years, they had betrayed him. Hadrian realized at that moment that Royce did not see him as just his partner, but his family. Along with Gwen and perhaps Arcadius, Hadrian was the only one he had. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

What do you - " Hadrian shook his head. "You knew? I can't believe you didn't say anything. You just let her take our horses and all our gear?"

"What part of 'you need to learn a lesson' didn't you understand?"

"You're insane, do you know that?"

"Yeah, well you're not the first to bring it up. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

A loose board on the boat's deck creaked under Hadrian's weight and Royce glared at him. Twelve years they had worked together, and still Royce did not seem capable of understanding that Hadrian could not float. The problem was that Royce apparently could. He made it look so easy. Hadrian walked like the caricature of a thief - on his toes, his arms out for balance, wavering up and down as if he were on a tightrope. Royce walked as casually as if he were sauntering down a city street. They communicated as they always did on the job, with facial expressions and hand gestures. Royce had learned sign language as part of his guild training but had never bothered teaching Hadrian more than a few signals. Royce was always able to communicate what he needed by pointing, counting with his fingers, or making simple obvious signs like scissoring his fingers across his level palm, imitating legs walking on a floor. He expressed most of his silent dialogue the way he was now: through rolled eyes, glares, and the pitiable shaking of his head. Given how irritated he so often looked, it was a mystery why he put up with Hadrian. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Standing in the middle of the cellar with a sickened look on his face, Alric said, "I can't believe I'm being subjected to this."

"Consider it a vacation," Hadrian suggested. "For at least one day you get to pretend you are nobody, a common peasant, the son of a blacksmith perhaps."

"No," Royce said, preparing his own sleeping space but keeping his boots on. "They might expect him to know things like how to use a hammer. And look at his hands. Anyone could tell he was lying."

"Most people have jobs that require the use of their hands, Royce," Hadrian pointed out. He spread his cloak over himself and turned on his side. "What could a common peasant do that monks wouldn't know the first thing about and wouldn't cause calluses?"

"He could be a thief or a whore."

They both looked at the prince, who cringed at his prospects. "I'm taking the cot," Alric said. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Guy's eyes narrowed. "So you are saying that you traveled all the way out here alone - passing through, as you put it - and just happened to join up with the Pickerings?"

Hadrian smiled at the sentinel. It was weak, clumsy, and the fencing equivalent of dropping his sword and tackling his opponent to the ground, but it was all he could do. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Hadrian, an African born, a man accurately learned in the sacred writings as well as trained in monastical and ecclesiastical discipline, and right skilful in the Greek as well as the Latin tongue. This man being called to the pope was willed of him to take the bishopric upon him and travel unto Britain.
[Hadrianus, vir natione Afir, sacris literis diligenter imbutus, monasterialibus simul et ecclesiasticis disciplinis institutus, Graecae pariter et Latinae linguae peritissimus. Hunc ad se accitum Papa iussit episcopatu accepto Brittaniam venire.] ~ Bede

And you? Did you find the doorknob?"
Hadrian picked up a jug and downed several swallows, drinking so quickly some of the water dripped down his chin. He poured some in his palm and rinsed his face, running his fingers through his hair.
"I didn't even get close enough to see a door."
"Well, look on the bright side" - Hadrian smiled - "at least you weren't captured and condemned to death this time."
"That's the bright side?"
"What can I say? I'm a glass-half-full kinda guy. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

When I was stuck in Colnora during the siege, your old friends helped get me out."

"The Diamond?"

Hadrian nodded. "Price arranged for me to slip away one night in exchange for delivering the letter. He preferred risking my neck rather than one of his boys."

"What did it say? Who was it from?"

Hadrian shrugged. "How would I know?"

"You didn't read it?" Royce asked incredulously.

"No, it was for Alric."

"Do you still have it?"

Hadrian shook his head. "Delivered it to the castle on the way in."

Royce dropped his face into his hands. "Sometimes, I just …" Royce shook his head. "Unbelievable."

"What's wrong?" Gwen asked as she joined them.

"Hadrian's an idiot," Royce replied, his voice muffled by his hands.

"I'm sure that's not true."

"Thank you, Gwen. See? At least she appreciates me. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Hadrian dismounted and began unloading Dancer. "How long were we on the road?" He paused to look up at the moon.
"What? Five, six hours? Not a damn word. Getting chilly out, don't you think, Hadrian? The moon looks like a fingernail, ain't that right, Hadrian? The tree looks like a goddamn bear, don't it, Hadrian? Nothing. By the way, in case you haven't noticed, I was attacked by a goshawk and a pig-riding dwarf that shot eggs at me with a sling. I was knocked from my horse and wrestled with the dwarf, the hawk, and the pig for what had to be half an hour. The dwarf kept smashing eggs in my face, and the ruddy pig pinned me down, licking them off. I only got away because the dwarf ran out of eggs. Then the hawk turned into a moth that became distracted by the light of the moon."
Royce shifted to his side, hood up.
"Yeah, well ... thank Maribor and Novron I didn't need your help THAT time. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

I'm not going to kill these people," Hadrian said. "They're nice people."

"How do you know?"

"I talked to them."

"You talked to me too."

"You're not nice people."

"I know, I know, I have those wolf eyes that good old Sebastian warned you about. Remember him? The nice man who, along with his nice lady friend, was planning to slit your throat?"

"He was right about you at least. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

That we're both right. One truth doesn't refute another. Truth doesn't lie in the object, but in how we see it. Hadrian ~ Michael J. Sullivan

If it was that easy, your father would have told you himself. This-like any real truth-must be discovered on your own. Honestly, I have no idea what your father might have told you. I do know he felt you were too optimistic, too naïve, and Royce is … well … not. At our last meeting, I spoke to him of Royce. It was Danbury's idea-his last wish-that if I ever found his wayward son, I should introduce the two of you. I think he felt Royce could provide you with that last piece of the puzzle, the one thing he failed to give you. Consider it one last chicken test if you will, one whose lesson you might not see the virtue of just yet." The professor stroked his beard around the edges of his mouth. "I suspect you have regrets at how you left home. Guilt perhaps. This is your chance to ease that feeling. This is the door your father left open for you. Besides, you don't need to marry Royce-just accept this single assignment."

"What assignment?" Hadrian asked.

"I need for you to fetch me a book. It's a journal written by a former professor here at the university."

"He means he wants us to steal a book." Royce had picked up what looked to be a six-inch incisor from a bear and was rolling it between his hands.

"More like borrow without permission," Arcadius expl-ained.

"Can't you just ask, especially since you only want to borrow it?" Hadrian said.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible. First, it would be heretical to ~ Michael J. Sullivan

You fight like a street thug," Mauvin commented.

"Because that's what he is," Royce assured them as he approached from the direction of the keep, "a big, dumb street thug. I once saw an old woman batter him senseless with a butter churn." He shifted his attention to Hadrian. "Now what have you gotten yourself into? Looks like this kid will hand you a beating."

Mauvin stiffened and glared at Royce. "I would remind you that I'm a count's son, and as such, you will refer to me as lord, or at least master, but not kid."

"Better watch out, Royce, or he'll be after you next, ~ Michael J. Sullivan

You should have woken me. I would have taken a shift at the tiller."

"We actually considered it when you started to snore."

"I don't snore!"

"I beg to differ," Hadrian chided while chewing.

She looked around the skiff as each of them, even Etcher, nodded. Her face flushed.

Hadrian chuckled. "Don't worry about it. You can't be held accountable for what you do in your sleep."

"Still," she said, "it's not very ladylike."

"Well, if that's all you're worried about, you can forget it," Hadrian informed her with a wicked smirk. "We lost all illusions of you being prissy back in Sheridan."

How much better it was when they were silent.

"That's a compliment," he added hastily.

"You don't have much luck with the ladies, do you, sir?" Wally asked, pausing briefly and letting the paddles hang out like wings, leaving a tiny trail of droplets on the smooth surface of the river. "I mean, with compliments like that, and all."

Hadrian frowned at him, then turned back to her with a concerned expression. "I really did mean it as a compliment. I've never met a lady who would - well, without complaining you've been - " He paused in frustration, then added, "That little trick you managed back there was really great. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Do you think the Gilarabrywn knows we're still in here?"

"Esrahaddon said it was intelligent, so I presume it can count."

"Then it will come back and find us. We have to reach the castle. The distance across the open is about - what? Two hundred feet?"

"About that," Royce confirmed.

"I guess we can hope it's still munching on Millie. Ready?"

"Run spread out so it can't get both of us. Go." The grass was slick with dew and filled with stumps and pits. Hadrian got only a dozen yards before falling on his face.

"Stay behind me," Royce told him.

"I thought we were spreading out?"

"That's before I remembered you're blind. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

There are still eight of us," Guy pointed out. "Not exactly an even fight."
"I was thinking the same thing," Mauvin said. "Sadly, there's no one else here we can ask to join your side."
Guy looked at Mauvin, then Hadrian, for a long moment as the men glared across the ash at each other. Then he nodded and lowered his blade. "Well, I can see I'll have to report your misconduct to the archbishop."
"Go ahead," Hadrian said. "His body is buried with the rest of them just down the hillside. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Hatred doesn't lie. Hatred doesn't tell soothing stories. You'll tell me true.' ~ Hadrian ~ Kate Quinn

James closed the door and turned the radio on. He didn't particularly want to listen to it but he needed the privacy it provided. Not that Hadrian seemed like he would have noticed anything happening around him that wasn't directly relevant to his cooking, but privacy was a feeling more than a real state of being. Growing up in a house where superhearing was the norm, music had been the standard way in which one made the fact that there were solid walls and doors between one and the rest of the household count for something. ~ Aska J. Naiman

Hadrian shook his head and sighed. "Why do you have to make everything so difficult? They're probably not bad people - just poor. You know, taking what they need to buy a loaf of bread to feed their family. Can you begrudge them that? Winter is coming and times are hard." He nodded his head in the direction of the thieves. "Right?"
"I ain't got no family," flat-nose replied. "I spend most of my coin on drink."
"You're not helping," Hadrian said. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Royce nodded. "Invest in crossbows. Next time stay hidden and just put a couple bolts into each of your target's chests. All this talking is just stupid."
"Royce!" Hadrian admonished.
"What? You're always saying I should be nicer to people. I'm trying to be helpful. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Overhead shone the great star of the constellation of Lyra, destined to be the polar star for men who will live tens of thousands of years after we have ceased to be. ~ Marguerite Yourcenar

It took a while to master the right phrases, but once I got him going, old Gilly - boy - he took to it like a knife to a soft back."

"Gilly?" Hadrian asked, laughing.

"A pet has to have a name, doesn't it? Later I'm planning to teach it fetch and roll over, but for now, dig and sic 'em will do ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Any chance he's turned a new leaf and taken up sailing for real?"
"About as likely as me doing it."
Hadrian eyed Royce for a heartbeat. "I put him at the top of the list. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

What was that all about?" Royce asked. Hadrian shrugged, but Royce looked unconvinced. "You were here for what - five years? Anything happen? Anything you want to share?"

"Sure," he replied with a sarcastic grin. "Right after you fill me in on how you escaped from Manzant Prison and why you never killed Ambrose Moor."

"Sorry I asked. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Have you ever been in love, Hadrian?"
"I'm not sure. How do you tell?"
"Love? Why, it's like coming home."
Hadrian considered the comment.
"What are you thinking?" Bulard asked.
Hadrian shook his head. "Nothing."
"Yes, you were. What? You can tell me. I'm an excellent repository for secrets. I'll likely forget, but if I don't, well, I'm an old man in a remote
jungle. I'm sure to die before I can repeat anything."
Hadrian smiled, then shrugged. "I was just thinking about the rain. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

They left us for dead, didn't they? We told them this would happen. We came all this way to try and save them. You'd think they'd have the decency to let us out when they saw we were right."

"Probably think we're behind it. We're lucky they didn't just kill us."

"Not sure that's lucky. A nice, quick decapitation is kind of appealing right now."

"How long do you think before the Ba Ran find us?" Royce asked.

"You in a hurry?"

"Yeah, actually. If I have to be eaten, I would sort of like to get it over with."

Hadrian heard the sound of breaking glass.

"Ah, well, that didn't take long, did it?" Royce muttered miserably.

Footsteps shuffled in the outer room. There was a pause, and then the steps started again, coming closer. There were sounds of a struggle and a muffled cry. Hadrian braced himself and watched the door as it opened. What stood in the doorway shocked him.

"You boys ready to go? ~ Michael J. Sullivan