//
EXCERPT //
Dumphey crouched down beside Betin. He swiped his clammy hands on
his jerkin, not able to shake the thought that he knew something more than he
realized. “He trained you to take his place.” He
didn’t doubt it as he watched Betin grip the dagger again. Its blade flew
expertly over the staff, creating angles that didn’t make sense to Dumphey, but
seemed to please Betin. “Betin, are you out for revenge?”
Betin’s
freckled face pulled tight in concentration as he ran his fingers over the wood
he had just shaped. His movement was quick and sure. Finally, he spoke. “Not
revenge. Vengeance is of the Lord.” He paused again and took a deep breath.
“Oh, how I wanted to. That eve when he hung. Every part of my being wanted to
rush forward and kill Barat and the others. But such are not the ways of the
Lord.”
“Why are you here, then?” Dumphey
asked.
“Every man has a choice. He
can choose blindness concerning the evil that surrounds him, or he can choose
to make a difference. I am determined to be the latter man—to fight for justice
in this land. I just need to be patient until I can. Until I can do all in my
power against Feroci.”