Before They Are Hanged (The First Law, #2)

by Joe Abercrombie

‘Don’t try to be clever with me, Captain Luthar, you have not the equipment.

Does death come early in the morning, today? He opened his eyes a crack. Ah. Not quite yet, it seems. Perhaps at lunch time.

What a ludicrously random way to die. He felt his mouth twitch up in a faint smile.

‘Anyone can face ease and success with confidence. It is the way we face trouble and misfortune that defines us.

Time for more pain. Jezal gave a long, ragged, self-pitying sigh, but stopped himself halfway through. Self-pity was for children and halfwits.

Ladisla hunched his shoulders. ‘I suppose I must shoulder a portion of the blame for this whole business.’ A portion? West would have liked to serve him a portion of his boot.

Ferro shook her head. ‘You expect too much out of life, pink.’ He grinned. ‘And here was me thinking you expect too little.’ ‘Expect nothing and you won’t be disappointed.’ ‘Expect nothing and you’ll get nothing.’

First you suffer it yourself, then you inflict it on others, then you order it done. Such is the pattern of life.

Glokta felt his lips curl back in a sickly grin, wet with spit. Now. He heard Vitari’s breath snorting behind her mask. Do it. He felt the blade press against his neck, a chill touch, so sharp that he could hardly feel it. I’m ready.

It was a bad day for men, all in all, and a good one for the ground. Always the way, after a battle. Only the ground wins.