What’s the difference? Fill a hundred pits with dead Northmen, congratulations, have a parade! Kill one man in the same uniform as you? A crime. A murder. Worse than despicable. Are we not all men? All blood and bone and dreams?
~ Joe Abercrombie
The sunrise was the colour of bad blood. It leaked out of the east and stained the dark sky red, marked the scraps of the cloud with stolen gold. Underneath it the road twisted up the mountainside towards the fortress of Fontezarmo - a cluster of sharp towers, ash-black again the wounded heavens. The sunrise was red, black and gold.The colours of their profession.
There was no such thing as luck. Luck was a word idiots used to explain the consequences of their own rashness, and selfishness, and stupidity. More often than not bad luck meant bad plans.
Luck is a woman. She's drawn to those that least deserve her.
I've made peace with myself.Good for you. That's the hardest war of all to win.Didn't say I won. Just stopped fighting.
Give Bethod a kick from me, once you have him under your boot.That I will, unless he gets me under his.Never easy, kicking upwards.
On the battlefield there are no rules.
You look especially beautiful this morning, Monza.That brought a smile to the corner of her mouth. The corner he couldn't see. Well. Facts are facts.
Some men laugh easily. It makes them winning dinner companions.
He blamed every fucker available excepting, of course, the one who was actually to blame, the one sitting in his saddle and getting colder, hungrier, and more lost with every unpleasant moment. ‘Shit!’ he roared at nothing.
