Hunter

“Then, driven by the same impulse, they kissed him--Aylss on the let cheek, Evanlyn on the right.

And then they glared daggers at each other.”
― John Flanagan, Erak's Ransom

“I'll be getting you for this,' Halt had told him as he dabbed the diguisting mixture on the worst of the cuts. 'That soot is filthy. I'll probably come down with half a dozen infections.'
Probably,' Horace had replied, distracted by his task. 'But we'll only need you for today.'
Which was not a very comforting thought for Halt.”
― John Flanagan, The Kings of Clonmel

“You surely can't be trying to blame us for Erak's habit of charging ashore waving an axe and grabbing everything that isn't nailed down? No offence, Svengal."
Svengal shrugged. "None taken. It's a pretty accurate description of Erak on a raid, as a matter of fact.”
― John Flanagan, Erak's Ransom

“Sirrah, my companion chooses to engage you in knightly combat!" Halt said. The horseman stiffened, sitting upright in his saddle. Halt noticed that he nearly lost his balance at this unexpected piece of news.
Nightly cermbat?" he replied, "Yewer cermpenion ers no knight!"
Halt nodded hugely, making sure the man could see the gesture.
Oh yes he is!" he called back. "He is Sir Horace of the Order of the Feuille du Chene." He paused and muttered to himself, "Or should that have been Crepe du Chene? Never mind."
What did you tell him?" Horace asked, slinging his buckler around from where it hung at his back and setting it on his left arm.
I said you were Sir Horace of the Order of the Oakleaf." Halt said to him, then added uncertainly, "At least, I think that's what I told him. I may have said you were of the Order of the Oak Pancake.”
― John Flanagan