"Make them quiver," Ingolsol said, "and make them kneel." Oliver could practically hear the fanged smile from the sound of his voice. Ingolsol delighted in moments like these, Oliver knew. Almost as much as he delighted in the suffering of others.
With a slow turn of Oliver's boot, and a crunching in the snow, he regarded his men, his eyes scanning over each of them, meeting gazes here and there, searching each man that needed searching, feeling their hearts with the eyes of both Ingolsol and Claudia.
