Michael J Sullivan Quotes

What's the advantage of fear or the benefit of regret or the bonus of granting misery a foothold even if death is embracing you? My old abbot used to say, "Life is only precious if you wish it to be." I look at it like the last bite of a wonderful meal. Do you enjoy it, or does the knowledge that there is no more to follow make it so bitter that you would ruin the experience? - Myron on facing death ~ Michael J. Sullivan

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

Slaying dragons, melting witches, and banishing demons is all fun and games until someone loses a sidekick - then it's personal. The bad guy isn't just the "bad guy" anymore, he's the BAD GUY! ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Losing leaves a bitter taste that lingers long after the sweetness of victory has been forgotten. ~ 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

It's hard to explain the feeling of it - the power - it's as if I can do anything. Can you imagine knowing you can do anything? It's exciting, alluring - it draws you in and you want it like a hunger. You feel yourself becoming part of something bigger, joining with it, working with it. You sense every drop of water, every blade of grass, and you become them - everything - the air and the stars. You want to see how far you can go, where the edges are, only some part of you knows - there are no edges ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Spring had let go of Winter's hand and was reaching out to Summer ~ 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've grown a beard, I see."

"You just noticed?"

"I noticed before, been kinda busy until now."

"I can't really shave, can I? It wasn't a problem while I was in Gutaria, but now - does it look all right?"

"You have some gray coming in."

"I ought to. I am nine hundred years old. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

You didn't really hold back on Braga so Pickering could kill him, did you?" Royce asked after the two were left alone in the hallway.
"Of course not. I held off because it's death for a commoner to kill a noble."
"That's what I thought." Royce sounded relieved. "For a minute, I wondered if you'd gone from jumping on the good-deed wagon to leading the whole wagon train. ~ 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

Well, do you still make that marvelous wine? The pale red one, with a hint of nuts? I've boasted about it all the way here."
"There was a vineyard once, up on the slope of the Horn Ridge," Persephone said. "But it was lost to drought decades ago."
Nyphron scowled. "Doesn't anything in this place last?"
"Hardship," Persephone replied. "We always have an abundance of that."
The god looked directly at her. Their eyes met and he smiled. With a nod, he replied, "Well ... at least you have that. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Life is only precious if you wish it to be.' I look at it like the last bite of a wonderful meal - do you enjoy it, or does the knowledge that there is no more to follow make it so bitter that you would ruin the experience? ~ Michael J. Sullivan

NEVER INTERFERE WITH MELENGAR AGAIN
BY ORDER OF THE KING
... AND US ~ Michael J. Sullivan

City of Percepliquis

Ever sought, forever missed

Pick and shovel, dig and haul

Search forever, fall the wall.



Gala halted, city's doom

Spring warmth chilled with dust and gloom

Darkness sealed, blankets all

Death upon them, fall the wall.



Ancient stones upon the Lee

Dusts of memories gone we see

Once the center, once the all

Lost forever, fall the wall ~ Michael J. Sullivan

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

The 2XL shirt was still too small, leaving an exposed band of pale skin muffining out of his jeans. ~ 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

Instructors could teach the basic techniques and methods, but a mastery of mechanical knowledge could never make a person an artist. No one could teach creativity or invention. A spark needed to come from within. It must be something unique, something discovered by the individual, a leap of understanding, a burst of insight, the combining of common elements in an unexpected way. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

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

I hope you're planning on heading to the kitchens. I'm starved - practically eating my fingers here. He chuckled. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Alric looked up at the thief with a scowl. "I just want to say for the record that as far as royal protectors go, you're not very good."
"It's my first day," Royce replied dryly.
"And already I'm trapped in a timeless prison. I shudder to think what might have happened if you had a whole week. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

We don't want anyone suspecting us of stacking the deck the way we are. ~ 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

Before you were born, the year ninety-two,
lost what was precious, and that what was new.
The blink of an eye, the beat of a heart,
Out went the candle, and guilt was my part.

A king and his knight went hunting a boar,
A rat and his friends were hunting for love.
Together they fought, till one was alive.
The knight sadly wept, no king had survived.

The answers to riddles, to secrets and more,
Are found in the middle of legends and love.
Seek out the answer, and learn if you can
The face of regret, the life of a man. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

No one would ever demand compensation to keep people alive. You make us sound like monsters, as if people wouldn't help others unless they got something out of it. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

You're too arrogant for your own good," Galien accused him defensively. "The man is an imperial wizard. What he is capable of is beyond your comprehension. For all we know, he may have been visiting her in the form of a butterfly in the garden or a moth that entered her bedroom window each night. We had to be sure."

"A butterfly?" Saldur said, genuinely amazed.

"He's a wizard. Damn you. That's what they do."

"I highly doubt - "

"The point is we didn't know for sure. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

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. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

That's the thing about hatred, it can become rancid, and it'll turn into poison if you keep it bottled too long. Hatred will eat through any container and seep into the groundwater of a soul. Revenge is never enough to expel it because it keeps bubbling up anew. What you don't realize–can't really–is that by that time, it's all you are. You don't have the hate in you. The hate is you. When that wine is consumed, you won't ever be able to rid yourself of it. Can't vomit it up or spit it out. It'd be as impossible as escaping yourself. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

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

Sometimes the price of dreams is achieving 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

Magic is a little like playing the fiddle. It's damn hard to do without hands. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Fear made all the difference between rational and insane and could even masquerade one for the other. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

I just never noticed how little of me existed before. I was a shadow without a person. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

That's not the reason I didn't tell you," Royce snapped.
"You just said it was!"
"I know I did!"
"So you're lying to me again?"
"Call me a liar one more time - "
"And what? What? You going to fight me?" "It's dark in here. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

They smiled too much, were quick to compliment and support, but behind the stretched lips and soft words was a judgment. No one was ever good enough - at least not until they were dead. The dead were exemplary. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

None of you understand what love really is. It's not lust, or dependence, or infatuation, or familiarity. Love isn't a fondness or butterflies in your stomach."
"Then what is it?" Elis managed to ask.
"Love is the degree to which you are willing to sacrifice your own interests for those of another. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Bah!" Magnus scoffed. "Humans always blame dwarves. A baby goes missing and it was a dwarf that stole it. A princess runs off with a second son of a king and it was a dwarf who lured her to a deep prison. And when they find her with the prince - lo, she was rescued!
"A king is stabbed in the back in his own chapel, and a princess's tower
is turned into a death trap," Royce called back to them. "Friends are
betrayed and trapped in a prison - yes, I can see your surprise. Where do they get such ideas?"
"Damn his elven ears," Magnus said. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Just another game he played in a world where heroes were legends and honor was a myth. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

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

Sharks don't eat seafood because they like it, but because chicken can't swim. ~ 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

They watched each other, staring across the green. Royce walked forward, crossing the distance between them in silence. Two ghosts meeting at a crossroad.

"It's been a while - Esra is it? Or should I call you Mr. Haddon?"

The man tilted his head, lifting his eyes. "I am delighted to see you as well, Royce."

"How do you know my name?"

"I'm a wizard, or did you miss that from our last meeting?"

Royce paused and smiled. "You know, you're right; I might have. Perhaps you should write it down for me lest I forget again."

Esrahaddon raised an eyebrow. "That's a bit harsh. ~ 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

We are more than the bodies we inhabit," Fawkes said. "They're little more than clothes, and yet we judge so much by them. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

She put her hand on his shoulder and gave a soft squeeze. She did not know what else to do. First her mother, then her father and Fanen, and finally Hilfred - they were all gone. Mauvin was slipping away as well. The boy who loved his sword more than Wintertide presents, sweet chocolate cake, or swimming on a hot day refused to touch it anymore. The eldest son of Count Pickering, who had once challenged the sun to a duel because it had rained on the day of a hunt, spent his days watching ducks. ~ 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

She was too proud to eat her share of what little food we had. She told me she had. She swore she did. But every time I complained about being so hungry it hurt, she always offered me a nut or a partially rotted turnip, claiming she had just found two and already ate hers."

Rose sniffled and wiped her eyes again.

"After she was gone, I left my pride in that little hut and begged my way to Medford. I'd do anything. Once you've spent an afternoon chasing a fly around your house for dinner, once you've eaten spiders whole and drooled over worms found while burying your mother with your bare hands, there's nothing beneath you. All I wanted was to live-I'd forgotten everything else. A clod of dirt doesn't have dreams. A bit of broken stone doesn't understand hope. Each morning, all I wanted was to see the next dawn. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

This book is entirely dedicated to my wife, Robin Sullivan.
Some have asked how it is I write such strong women without resorting to putting swords in their hands. It is because of her.
She is Arista.
She is Thrace.
She is Modina.
She is Amilia.
And she is my Gwen.
This series has been a tribute to her.
This is your book, Robin.
I hope you don't mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you're in the world.
ELTON JOHN, BERNIE TAUPIN ~ Michael J. Sullivan

That living has no value - it's what you do with life that gives it worth. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

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

Some things are simply unimaginable right up until you are looking at them, and even then, you might not believe. Love is that way; so is death. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

And I wish to thank you as well, Royce."
He was puzzled. "For what?"
"For reminding me that anyone, no matter what they've done, can find redemption if they seek it. ~ 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

Royce's tone shifted between amazed and angry but finally settled on a nice restrained tempest. ~ 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

Thank you for checking on me. You even wore your sword."

Alric looked down. "I didn't know what beast or scoundrel might be attacking the princess. I had to come prepared to do battle."

"Can you even draw that thing?"

He frowned at her again. "Oh, quit it, will you? They say I fought masterfully in the Battle of Medford."

"Masterfully?"

He struggled to stop himself from smiling. "Yes, some might even say heroically. In fact, I believe some did say heroically."

"You've watched that silly play too many times."

"It's good theater, and I like to support the arts."

"The arts." She rolled her eyes. "You just like it because it makes all the girls swoon and you love all the attention."

"Well…" He shrugged guiltily.

"Don't deny it! I've seen you with a crowd of them circling like vultures and you grinning and strutting around like the prize bull at the fair. Do you make a list? Does Julian send them to your chambers by hair color, height, or merely in alphabetical order?"

"It's not like that."

"You know, you do have to get married, and the sooner, the better. You have a lineage to protect. Kings who don't produce heirs cause civil wars. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

I know nothing about war. But let me tell you what I believe. I think running from responsibility breeds self-loathing and despair. I think people can, and do, rise to the occasion, and even a single person can make an incredible difference. What they need are leaders who believe in them, a belief that gives birth to hope. With hope, people can do remarkable things, amazing things. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

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

Verily, for nine hundred years have I lost. Everyone I knew is dead, the empire gone, and who knows in what state the world is left. Should what thy sister reports prove true, much hath changed in the world."
"By the way," Royce mentioned, "No one uses the words 'tis or hath anymore and certainly not thou, thy, or verily. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Arista was tortured with thoughts of roasted pig dripping with fruit glaze, beef served in a thick, dark gravy, and mountains of chicken, quail, and duck. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Don't you see?" She addressed the entire room. "We either fight here and win, or die trying, because there won't be anything left if we fail. This is the moment. This is the crucial point where the future of yet unborn generations will be decided either by our action or inaction. For centuries to come, people will look back at this time and rejoice at our courage or curse our weakness." She looked directly at Royce now. "For we have the power. Here. Now. In this place. We have the power to alter the course of history and we will be forever damned should we not so much as try! ~ 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

I warn you, I've been challenged before. That's how it all started, you know? Hoyte tried to kill me the same way. In case you haven't heard, Hoyte is dead. I did him slow and left him displayed. So if you're looking for entertainment, I can guarantee you'll get it. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

The two slept most of the next day, waking only when a boy delivered what he thought might be breakfast, or perhaps lunch, but turned out to be the evening meal. The steaming bowls of vegetable stew and round loaf of brown rye arrived along with a note from Arcadius asking them to visit his office after eating and to do so while being seen by as few students as possible. There was a postscript for Royce explaining it was all right if some students saw them. This was underlined twice ~ Michael J. Sullivan

She's different."
"Everyone is different."
"Then let's say I like the ways in which she's different. A wise man once told me no man can escape death, but it's how we run that defines us. And if I have to run, I think I'd like to go where she's going. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

How terrible it must be to give up your life when you've never taken the chance to live it. How cheated you must feel, like losing a coin before spending it. To what can you hang on to and feel pride? Nothing. - Mauvin on lack of Nobility ~ 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

Maeve could have lost a race with a tree ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Life is all about conflict. The pursuit of happiness - that's life, not the achievement. It's all about the journey, my friend. ~ 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

If anyone had asked Royce Melborn what he hated most at that moment, he would've said dogs. Dogs and dwarves topped his list, both equally despised for having so much in common - each was short, vicious, and inexcusably hairy. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Snake," Wyatt announced. "A big black one."

"There's dozens of them," Royce explained.

"Where?" Alric asked.

"Mostly behind you on the walls."

"What?" the king said, aghast. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Knowing would only make traveling slower."

"Are they poisonous?" Mauvin asked.

They could all see the silhouetted shoulders of Royce's shadow on the far wall shrug.

"I demand you inform me of such things in future!" Alric declared.

"Do you want to know about the giant millipedes, then too?"

"Are you joking?"

"Royce doesn't make jokes," Arista told him as she looked around, anxiously hugging herself. Immediately her robe brightened and she spotted two snakes on the walls, but they were a safe distance away.

"He must be joking," Alric muttered quietly. "I don't see any."

"You aren't looking up," the thief said.

Arista did not want to. Some instinct, a tiny voice, warned her to fight the impulse, but in the end she just could not help herself. On the low ceiling, illuminated brightly by the robe, slithered a mass of wormlike bugs with an uncountable number of hairlike feet. Each was nearly five inches in length and close to the width of a man's finger. There were so many that they swarmed over each other until it was hard to tell if the ceiling was rock at all. Arista felt a chill run down her back. She clenched her teeth, f ~ Michael J. Sullivan

No god, goddess, or spirit would ever inhabit or employ a chicken. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Suri had a wolf named Minna. They were the best of friends and roamed the forest together. She had tattoos, was always filthy, afraid of nothing, and could do magic. From the first time I met her, I wanted to be Suri ... I still do.
- THE BOOK OF BRIN ~ 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

How are you speaking?" Gryndal asked.
"With my mouth," she said. "Does everyone play that game? ~ Michael J. Sullivan

All too often, that which we are most certain of is that which we are most wrong about; and that which we are wrong about can change everything. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Once an idea is learned, once it settles in, it becomes comfortable and hard to discard, like an old hat. And trust me, I have many old hats. Some I haven't worn in years, but I still keep them. Emotion gets in the way of practicality. By virtue of time spent, even ideas become old friends, and if you can't bear to lose an old hat that you never wear, imagine how much harder it is to abandon ideas you grew up with. ~ 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

And now she has you seizing control of my army."
"Your army? I thought this was Gaunt's."
"So did he. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

How can so many (white, male) writers narratively justify restricting the agency of their female characters on the grounds of sexism = authenticity while simultaneously writing male characters with conveniently modern values?

The habit of authors writing Sexism Without Sexists in genre novels is seemingly pathological. Women are stuffed in the fridge under cover of "authenticity" by secondary characters and villains because too many authors flinch from the "authenticity" of sexist male protagonists. Which means the yardstick for "authenticity" in such novels almost always ends up being "how much do the women suffer", instead of - as might also be the case - "how sexist are the heroes".

And this bugs me; because if authors can stretch their imaginations far enough to envisage the presence of modern-minded men in the fake Middle Ages, then why can't they stretch them that little bit further to put in modern-minded women, or modern-minded social values? It strikes me as being extremely convenient that the one universally permitted exception to this species of "authenticity" is one that makes the male heroes look noble while still mandating that the women be downtrodden and in need of rescuing.

-Comment at Staffer's Book Review 4/18/2012 to "Michael J. Sullivan on Character Agency ~ Foz Meadows

You're a bastard, you know that?"

"Being an orphan, I have no idea, but you might be right. Now, can we eat? ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Anthony Ryan is a new fantasy author destined to make his mark on the genre. His debut novel, Blood Song, certainly has it all: great coming of age tale, compelling character, and a fast-paced plot. If his first book is any indication of things to come, then all fantasy readers should rejoice as a new master storyteller has hit the scene. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

I'm going?" Malcolm asked nervously.
"Yep."
"But I don't know anything about hunting bears."
"We aren't hunting a bear," Raithe said. "You just heard her."
"Then why am I terrified?"
"Because it will be dark by the time we get out there, because I'm going, and because the gods are infatuated with me this month."
"Tell me again why I'm going."
Raithe ran toward the gate. "It's your reward for hitting people with rocks. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

We'd get out of it." She stared at the huge bell for a moment and then added, "I hate the sound of that bell." A gusty breeze rustled the leaves and threw a lock of hair in her face. She brushed it back and turned away from the oak and the bell. "Over there" - she pointed ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Never say never on any endeavor; it sounds like a dare to gods that don't care. If the likes of us prosper, fail or falter; it matters not while they roll with laughter on an alter, at our miserable, sad little lives. ~ 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

Hands could be such expressive things. ~ Michael J. Sullivan