“It was not so easy to pray, alone--or at least he had never found it so. But all at once he felt that he dared not go unblessed--unarmed. What prayer could he make, to the God whom he had refused to forsake, yet could not truly remember? He drew his sword and held it up before him, hoping for words, but none came. The moonstone on the pommel shone faintly in the dimness of the tent. The Shield of Adamant glittered. These two, and me, and Dur'chai; that's all, he thought. That's all there is, to meet him. 'Take us,' he said aloud, 'for what we're worth. It's harder than I thought--and I'm afraid.”