The Curse of Chalion

Cazaril heard the mounted horsemen on the road before he saw them. He glanced over his shoulder. The well-worn track behind him curled up around a rolling rise, what passed for a hill on these high windy plains, before dipping again into the late-winter muck of Baocia’s bony soil

Lois McMaster Bujold is one of the big names in SFF, but I’ve only recently come to read her books. A few months ago I read Paladin of Souls, which is the second in the Chalion series. But although there are reoccuring characters and shared history I don’t think you have to have the first one in order to read that. I hadn’t, but I’m sure that if I now reread it after reading The Curse of Chalion it would make a lot more sense.

You can go to the end of time, the last World Cup in the history of mankind, and the All-Blacks will be favourites for it

So I got out of bed with surprising ease this morning. Dressed in my Irish top I almost poisoned myself with sour milk, but spotted that there was something wrong with the tea and poured it down the sink. And headed off round the corner to The Woolshed Baa and …