Stephen R Donaldson.pdf — A Man Rides Through By

“That was always your weakness,” Herric said. “You think being remembered matters. You think fear and legacy are the same thing. But I don’t need to be remembered. I only need to be the man who rides through.”

The Duke set down his goblet. For the first time, something flickered behind his eyes. Not fear, exactly. Recognition. The recognition of a man seeing a force he had miscalculated. a man rides through by stephen r donaldson.pdf

“You’ll die for this,” the Duke said quietly. “Even if you kill me. My captains will hunt you. My allies will curse your name. You’ll die alone, in the cold, with no one to remember you.” “That was always your weakness,” Herric said

The Duke tilted his head. “I burned a village. The fact that it was yours is incidental. You swore an oath to me, Herric. You broke it when you rode away. The punishment for desertion is death. The punishment for those who harbor a deserter is—well. You saw.” But I don’t need to be remembered

Herric raised his left arm. He pulled back the sleeve, showing the brand. The coiled serpent.

“I swore an oath to protect the Marche. Not to serve your cruelty.”