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The Last Dragonlord
by Joanne Bertin
p.50-51 Linden rocked from foot to foot. Oh, bloody damn indeed. First they had to stand about in this stuffy little room while some pompous ass brayed, then the herald would announce them, giving their human and dragon names, one by one. Then he would present the council--one by one.
What idiocy. They'd met the same nobles last night. But now it had to be done with the proper ceremony and formality.
Bother the ceremony. He wanted to get started.
He pushed back his sleeves. Wretched things, always in the way. He wished they didn't have to wear the regalia for these meetings. He'd had enough of it at the welcoming festivities. He'd spent the entire evening waiting for the wide sleeves to fall into the gravy. They usually did; sometimes he thought they had a mind of their own.
And these blasted tight breeches pinched.
p.60 "hadn't enough brains to bait a fishhook with"
p.67 He pulled the only other chair from its place against the wall and set it backwards before her desk. He straddled it, arms crossed along the top, his long legs stuck out to either side.
p.75 Had the kitchen cat settled itself upon the council's table and lectured them on the differences between the nine hells of Yerrin belief and the three that Cassorin priests held to, the council members could not have looked more surprised.
p.138 All at once Rathan lashed out at him, driving him mad with desire. The raging passions of a mating dragon scorched him as Rathan urged him to seek his soultwin, join with her. Linden cried out in torment. Breath by slow breath he pushed the draconic half of himself back. Rathan subsided, his rage burning like a hot coal.
p.172 She had bargained the spice merchant to a fare-thee-well
p.211 "Look--there's one of the royal barges sailing up the river." He pointed.
Blast. Her fingers felt lonely already. Stifling a sigh, Maurynna shaded her eyes against the evening sun and looked.
Sure enough, she picked it out immediately from all the other vessels plying the Ulidodd. Banners of the royal scarlet fluttered at its bow and stern, and the wood of the rails and cabin was gilded where it wasn't painted scarlet. To her eyes, it looked both dumpy and gaudy, like an overweight and overpainted whore.
p.221 coldfire globes
p.262 wergild = obligatory I'm-sorry gifts
p.287 * Then thee is either very foolish or very brave waking me like this. *
But there was wry amusement behind the words that reassured Linden. It confirmed his long-held--and very private--belief that the dragons let their human counterparts rule for so long because the dragons found them entertaining.
p.290 "Boyo," said a familiar voice in Yerrin, "Where have you been and what have you been doing? You look like something the cat threw back."
Truth be told, he felt like something the cat threw up.
NAMES: Yulla, Herrell, Jehangli, Breslin, Tsan, Yulla, Merissa, Aran, Shaina, Kyrissaean, Shahija = "little fox", Morkerren, Morga, Sanussin, Danaet, Ankarlyn, Sahleen, Byrony, Sevrybel, Jerrel, Remon, Elenna, Owin, Jebby, Assantikka, Dovria, Rhilin, Trewin, Altian, Kerrivel, Vanos, Corvy, Vatrinn, Tev, Cammine, Aran, Quirel, Ulidodd, Linden, Sirl, Yerrin, Lleld, Kesselandt, Bakkuran, Beren, Saethe, Cassorin, Rann, Peridaen, Kief, Tarlna, Kelder, Lady Mayhem, Varn, Maurynna, Assantik, Bran, Rani, Satha, Kelnethi, Neuthuryn, Desia, Joreda, Merrolad, Pelnar, Niathea, Pakkusan, Remon, Rynna, Gajji, Althume, Anstella, Sherrine, Tandavi, Colrane, Alinya, eo'Tsan, Maylin, Kella, Gifnu, Rathan, Shaeldar, Aurianne, Wassilor, Duriac, Falissa, Gevianna