// 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.”