Wrath (The Faithful and the Fallen, #4)

by John Gwynne

“there’s nothing like a good fight to clear the mind.”

Doing nothing does not absolve you of choice. Doing nothing puts you firmly on Asroth’s side and makes you a coward, as well, for not having the stones to admit

“In the end, it’s all the same,” Varan said. “We all face death alone.” Corban nodded. “To my thinking, though, it’s what happens before death that’s important. All of us die. How many really live?”

Sometimes caution is wisdom, but sometimes it is fear, and fear is not wise.

Some battles find you, no matter how cautious you are.”

“I came back from death for you,” he said, his voice a whispered tremor. “For me it was always forever, however long that may be. And those words you just spoke, they are the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. They are written upon my heart and soul.”

“Storm, lass, you are going to look fine when you go to war.”

“But all feel fear, both the coward and the hero, and all those in between,” Farrell said. “Aye. It’s what we do about it that counts,” Dath muttered. “And what are we going to do about it?” Coralen asked, though Corban already knew the answer. “We’re going to fight,” he said.

“This is a day for stabbing people.”

There it is, the difference between the Bright Star and the Black Sun, right there. Who stands at Nathair’s cairn and mourns? And yet Corban is surrounded, not by those who serve or fear him, but by those who love him. Even a scruffy old crow. That tells a tale far clearer than a prophecy scrawled upon parchment. I am glad that I met him, that I discovered the truth before it was too late.

“Camlin kind,”