Vorkosigan, I begged a life from you once
On my knees, a father's plea.
Ruthless Regent, you took both for one's price, and I
Hold both deaths equal, as fathers do.
Aral, you and I have drunk much of death and bitterness,
Lost men and brothers and sons to Ezar's flag, now yours,
And all come equal in death in the end. But I am a father still, and
So I swear to you on my name's oath: you shall bleed for the Vorhalas dead.