My November has been full of toying with a bunch of plot-points for my novels. I think I have managed to work out the gist of Talldogs, and some of the larger aspects of my other novels have been tentatively set down. Three and a half months is a long time to be away: I'm now looking forward to getting back home and settling into the comfortable routine of my life so that I can focus a little better on the scenes inside my head.
The pale, stormy face wormed its way against his chest as he crouched beside her. Her grip on the open front of his doublet was surprisingly strong: the scent of her fear was biting in Raymond’s nostrils. He put his arms around her, and it occurred to him that he had never held his sister before, not even when she had been a baby: the gesture was awkward and he was not sure how he liked it.
Raymond had the acute sensation of coming to empathize with the cuckolded husband of second-rate comedic plays.
[She] must have spotted the figure at the same instant, for along the length of the rampart Alwin could hear her voice raised in a wild cry—deep, for one her size and age—shouting for all she was worth: “That man!—shoot me that man on the caparisoned horse! Shoot him down! All of you, bring everything to bear on that man! Shoot—him—down!”
The bay hurtled by. The black screamed and charged wildly in the track. A body in blue and steel crashed from its back, caught in the stirrup, and was dragged a few plunging paces in a storm of shield-shards and broken lance before detaching and tumbling across the sand.
Avery passed over a shield with the Cognizance of the City of God.
The man upon whose arm she stood was almost unrecognizable to [him]. Accustomed to plain dress, with perhaps only a little adornment to break the monotony of dark, earthy colours in which the man so often clothed himself, his cousin stood instead this evening in a tunic of crimson: a deep, guttural red chased over heavily with embroidered work of black dragons, picked out with copper thread to lend the creatures a malevolent dimension.
“What a rummy piece of novel!” crowed Goddgofang appreciatively.
“Hate you!” Goddgofang broke into movement and came forward several angry strides. “You exasperate me, you are an incomprehensible handful of unbroken horseflesh, but thunder of heaven, I do not hate you! How could you think such nonsense?”
"My dear, in my heart of hearts, I am but rarely a gentleman."
"Feel that pain? Is it not exquisite?"