Lozen Quotes

I don’t know what this compass means, and I don’t care. We still have a job to do.” I point at Lang. “You, up.” “Execution time!” Lozen sings out. “No executions,” I say tiredly. “We’re not going to kill him?” Lozen asks incredulously. “He’s the bad guy!” “And he’s got a royal pardon in his pocket, and I don’t want to deal with that. So we’ll drag him along to the next jail we come across and let the locals deal with him.” I step back as the Dusklander struggles to his feet and starts limping toward the house. Lozen pouts. “Seriously? A trial? Where’s the drama and excitement in that?” “Oh, Gallian trials can be pretty dramatic,” Min says. “Most Gallians lawyers are sleeping with each other, and when they get bored, they hold secret gladiator fights in their basements.” “Holy crap, that’s awesome!” Lozen stares at her. “Wait. Are you just screwing with me?” “Yeah.” Min smiles. “Real lawyers are pretty boring. But at least the ones in

Well damn,” Lozen says softly as she saunters over. “Look at the stones on you.” I look at the hunter as I put away the horn. “What are you talking about?” “Staring down a dragon all by yourself.” Lozen grins. “You idiot, you don’t even know how that horn works. For all you know, you could have been telling that dragon that you were a steak dinner, extra rare. With fresh peppercorns. And butter. And cream. Damn, I’m hungry.” “Well, I guess I got lucky.” “I guess so. Idiot.” Lozen punches me on the arm, still grinning. “Now can we get back to bed, please?

Key Apache Warriors Cochise—one of the great Chiricahua (Chokonen) chiefs. Born c. 1805. No known pictures exist but he was said to be very tall and imposing, over six feet and very muscular. Son-in-law to Mangas Coloradas. Died in 1874, probably from stomach cancer. Chihuahua—chief of the Warm Springs band (Red Paint people) of the Chiricahua. Fought alongside Geronimo in the resistance. Died in 1901. Fun—probably a cousin to Geronimo and among his best, most trusted warriors. Fun committed suicide in captivity in 1892, after becoming jealous over his young wife, whom he also shot. Only slightly wounded, she recovered. Juh—pronounced “Whoa,” “Ho,” or sometimes “Who.” Chief of the Nedhni band of the Apache, he married Ishton, Geronimo’s “favorite” sister. Juh and Geronimo were lifelong friends and battle brothers. Juh died in 1883. Loco—chief of the Warm Springs band. Born in 1823, the same year as Geronimo. Once was mauled by a bear and killed it single-handedly with a knife, but his face was clawed and his left eye was blinded and disfigured. Known as the “Apache Peacemaker,” he preferred peace to war and tried to live under reservation rules. Died as a prisoner of war from “causes unknown” in 1905, at age eighty-two. Lozen—warrior woman and Chief Victorio’s sister. She was a medicine woman and frequent messenger for Geronimo. She fought alongside Geronimo in his long resistance. Mangas Coloradas—Born in 1790, he was the most noted chief of the Bedonkohe Apache. A massive man for his era, at 6'6” and 250 pounds, he was Geronimo’s central mentor and influence. He was betrayed and murdered by the U.S. military in 1863. Geronimo called his murder “the greatest wrong ever done to the Indians.” Mangas—son of the great chief Mangas Coloradas, but did not succeed his father as chief because of his youth and lack of leadership. Died as a prisoner of war in 1901. Naiche—Cochise’s youngest son. Succeeded older brother Taza after he died, becoming the last chief of the free Chiricahua Apache. Nana—brother-in-law to Geronimo and chief of the Warm Springs band. Sometimes referred to as “Old Nana.” Died as a prisoner of war in 1896. Victorio—chief of the Warm Springs band. Noted and courageous leader and a brilliant military strategist. Brother and mentor to warrior woman Lozen. Slain by Mexicans in the massacre of Tres Castillos in 1880.

Well, aren’t you just a pile of happy thoughts?” Lozen grumbles. “I bet there’s a whole sack full of dead puppies crammed up your ass, isn’t there?” “I stand ready to submit to a thorough search, whenever you like, buttercup.” The bounty hunter grins.

We deden ons best ons steeds flexibeler op te stellen en we merkten ook dat we vergevingsgezinder werden, jegens onszelf én iedereen die we onderweg tegenkwamen. Erg veel keus hadden we eerlijk gezegd ook niet. Met reisplannen die afhankelijk waren van de aanwezigheid van plaatsen waar we gratis ons afvalwater konden lozen (die ons gps-systeem niet altijd aangaf…) en eventueel oponthoud in stadjes onderweg (als gevolg van een optocht, een marathon, wegwerkzaamheden) waren een open mind en een vrije geest haast een vereiste. En dan was er nog de waslijst aan dingen die we onveranderlijk thuis vergaten, waardoor we gedwongen werden een creatieve oplossing te verzinnen voor bepaalde dingen. Om nog maar te zwijgen van onze ontmoetingen met coyotejongen, elanden, beren, vlinders die zich massaal verplaatsten, of de vrouw die op hoge hakken haar varkentje uitliet op de camping, gehuld in een trui met monogram, die perfect paste bij het truitje dat het varken droeg. Hoe door de wol geverfd je ook bent en hoe goed je ook probeert te plannen, reizen leert je nergens meer van op te kijken en overal gewoon in mee te gaan. Natuurlijk