What more she would have said was drowned in a chorus of protest from the warrior-priests. The mourners added their supplications, and the priestesses murmured:
“Om—ah! Om—ah! Om—ah!”
Without noticing the interruption, Yermah completed his sentence.
“Orondo did no evil. Nothing can be produced against him. He committed no violence, nor did he torment any heart. No one was by him treacherously slain.”
“Hear him, O just powers! This man stands here and claims to be a vehicle for truth! How darest thou say that Orondo caused no man to be treacherously killed?
“On both thy heads lie the curse of Alcamayn’s death. Robbed of his own by Orondo, and done to death by thee!
“Thou art a mighty representative in the Hall of the Two Truths. Hear me, Yermah!—A mother’s curse is on thee! Thou art a doomed man!”
“A mother’s curse!” exclaimed Yermah, in a whisper, sharing the consternation around him.
A curse in the time of the Dorado was a thing of fearful import.
The intemperance of her speech showed the uncontrollable rage of Rahula.