“That being the case,” Ferus said, “I will accompany you. It will add verisimilitude to have someone who is genuinely drunk at the table.” He shook his head sadly. “Death is light as a feather, duty as heavy as a Spire, what?” “Ah,” Benedict said. “Master Ferus, is that wise?” Gwen asked. “It’s an ancient proverb, handed down from the time of the Builders,” Ferus replied. “Chronologically speaking, it is wisdom of the highest order.”
