The Wraeththu Chronicles
“"I thought you were dead!" he said. "You used to be such a light sleeper." I pushed my hair out of my eyes, still half asleep. "You're here early, Gahrazel." He walked up and down at the end of my bed and the constant movement, made me feel sick. "Sit down, for God's sake!" "It's not that early," he said. "Remember, I lead a soldier's life now. Gone is the luxury of lying in bed in the morning." His voice was bitter. "Is everyone else up?" "Yes . . . Swift?" "What? Pass me my clothes, will you?..." He sifted through the pile on the floor and tossed bits of it over to me. "Swift, I've neglected our friendship," he said, not looking at me. "What's happened to remind you of that?" I asked, pulling on my trousers. "Oh, nothing . . . Good God, what's happened to your back?" I wasn't sure whether to feel proud or ashamed. I said nothing. "Oh, I see," continued Gahrazel, suddenly much more like the har I remembered. "If Ithiel had done that to me, I'd have blacked his eye." "Oh, would you!" I retorted.MoreLess
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