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There was a trace of iron grey in his black hair since she’d seen him last, perhaps some deeper lines at the corners of his eyes, but his air of complete command was impressive as ever.
his brother used to tell him it was what you gave out that made a man, not what you got back.
He had learned long ago that life became much easier if you ignored what was not right before you. For now the stew was his only concern.
‘What makes you think I have the answers? In my experience, life rarely turns out the way you expect. We must bend with the circumstances, and simply do our best.’
Loyalty had always sat with honour, discipline and self-restraint on his list of incomprehensible virtues.
You are full of passion, but passion without discipline is no more than a child’s tantrum.’
‘I am made of death. I am the Great Leveller. I am the storm in the High Places.’
