The Game of Kings (The Lymond Chronicles, #1)

by Dorothy Dunnett

Deceit deceiveth and shall be deceived.

To ride cross-country from Eskdale to Teviotdale is good for the liver; to do it without being seen healthier still.

“It means trouble, of course: what else? Without trouble, how could we live? There the thorne is thikkest to buylden and brede.”

There is such a thing, you know, as habitual disorder—as