“We agreed. You can’t stay. If you do, the king—” “If I do, the king will turn me into my father. He’ll make me into another one of his bloody-minded lackeys, same as Barst or Yarek,” said Murtagh, with no attempt to hide his bitterness. “It’s not just that,” said Tornac. “Even if you weren’t Morzan’s son, this isn’t a good place for you, Murtagh. Those leeches at court will ruin you if you stay.” Pride made him reply, “I’d never let them.” Tornac stopped and stared at him over the back of the roan. “You say that now, but they’ll keep grinding you down, year after year. That sort of attention
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