Rough Draft snipp

From the car yesterday:

“Life and death is in their hands, not mine. Those who demand death will have it. Those who beg for life will have it. I will let them live stripped of their name, stripped of their rank, their flesh branded and their possessions gone. And for fighting-age men, their thumbs cut off. ”
“You force men to beg for this!”
“If they choose, I give them death and their honor restored instead.”
“…How do you make them die?”
“Fire.”
“Men do not follow you for honor; they do it for blood. You are a savage, and you have none.”
“A subtle philosophical point that bears no weight to our current discussion. In any case, Perric is dead. I did not grudge him his wealth, or his method of gaining it, or his songs or his sharp tongue. His money paid the swords raised against me, and this I do not forgive. You speak well of him. He died well. He chose to burn.”
… [?]
“Would you burn?”
“What is honor? Women know nothing of it.”
“What do you know about love?”
“It is a weakness.”
“Perric’s wife died with him. She was a little woman. Green eyes. She had borne him sons. Perhaps she did think of them, as well–but it is a hard thing to watch a man burn, and Perric died first. What do you know of love?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

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