The Sable Moon
“Ket said when Trevyn told him of the change of command. But Trevyn disagreed.
“It’s not a bit well,” he sighed. “But he shall be well, Ket, mark my words.… What have you done with that great, bloody sword?”
Ket looked at the ground. “I’ve hidden it—and I’ll reveal it to no one, Prince. Not even t’ ye.” His brown eyes flashed up, pleading for understanding. Trevyn smiled wearily.
“You’re wise,” he acknowledged. “You know I’m no more proof against its spell than Father was. But what of yourself, Ket? How long do you think it will be before thoughts of the thing eat away your reason and contentment?”
“Better me than ye,” Ket snapped unhappily. “I’ll call council.”
“Wait!” Trevyn exclaimed. A familiar form was approaching through the dusk. Gwern trudged up to stand by his elbow, raising his straight, shaggy brows in blank inquiry at the stares he was receiving from two sides.
“Gwern,” Trevyn declared, “I believe you might finally become useful in your own peculiar way.”
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