Sweep in Peace (Innkeeper Chronicles, #2)

by Ilona Andrews

Life is trade; we trade our labor for its fruit, we trade hours of study for knowledge, we trade pleasure for pleasure or sometimes for wealth, security, or offspring.

Suffer none who would seek to stand on the ground you have chosen.

“I will record our meetings and send the feed to your screen.” “Good. Do not agree to anything, Dina, before consulting with me. Make no promises. They will be held against you.” “I understand.” I rose. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome, although I’m not sure exactly what I’m being thanked for.” George grinned, and his smile had a mordant edge to it. “This ought to be exciting. It’s good to have some fun once in a while.” “You said yourself, this fun carries risk,” I reminded him. His smile got wider. “That’s the best kind of fun.”

“It is an up close and personal war, fought with savage weapons,” Odalon said. “At first when you’re young and dumb and you hear about it, you think it will be glorious. That you will be like the hero of old, ripping through the ranks of your enemy. Then you find out what six hours of fighting with your sword is really like. The first hour, if you survive, is exciting. The scent of blood is intoxicating.

The second hour, you are injured but you keep going. The third hour, you realize you’ve had your fill of blood. You want to be done. You want off the battlefield. In the fourth, you notice the faces of people you kill. You hear their screams as you hack off their limbs. It is no longer an abstract enemy. It is a living being that you are ripping apart. It is dying by your hand, right there in front of you. In the fifth, you bleed and vomit, and still you push forward, punishing your body and soul. In the sixth, you collapse finally, grateful that you survived or simply numb. Everything smells like blood and the smell of it makes you ill. You’re hurting and you try to keep your eyes open, because if you close them, you might see the faces of those you killed, so you look upon the battlefield and you see that nothing was gained and, as the medic is patching you up, you realize you must do it again tomorrow.”

You want to be the best innkeeper you can be. He wants to be the best soldier he can be.”

I met his gaze. “I’m not an angel who will soothe all his wounds, I’m not his dawn, and I’m not his perfect sweetheart who is waiting for him to come home from the war.

perfect words

necromancers.

words to remember