“Come, Black Duncan, we must hurry,” I said, sliding on my remaining gauntlet, picking up my red-plumed helmet. “Before they discover our missing gear.”
Yet still he did not move, or make any effort to don his armor; even though Mortigen and I were already dressed. “Gah, it is ridiculous! Okay; we’re breeders—so what? I, for one, see no cause for alarm. Nor, for that matter, to return to Ambergard.”
I unsheathed Blood Zephyr and gave her a heft—relishing the touch and feel of her (even if it was steel on steel); appreciating her weight and balance. “No, Black Duncan. It is not possible. The Quest must not be surrendered—not for you or for anyone. You know that.”
“And again, I ask: Why? Why, when everything a man could possibly want exists right here, now, and in such great plentitude? B
