When at last Si'Wren dared to lean once more into the deeply recessed window sill for a peek, for the stone of the fortress wall was exceeding thick, her delight was turned to dismay.
They were worshiping it.
There they all were, kneeling and bowing to the dumb wooden ox! They had it propped up on the ground in front of them, off to one side out of the way of the busy foot traffic.
Shocked, she looked down upon them and stamped her little foot in mute frustration. They were impossible!
She opened her mouth, fervently wishing to call out to them and let them know the terrible error of what they were doing.
I threw it! she longed to say. But she had to shut her mouth again, and could only watch unhappily, with useless, tightly pursed lips and flashing, angry eyes.
So this was what she was up against. Remorse filled her soul, until she felt rent in twain by her anguish.
Why God? Si'Wren implored him, dropping in despair to her knees on the carpet. Why must I thus remain silent in this evil world so full of the praise of idols? Why God? Why?
Her sorrow multiplied rapidly over what she had unwittingly done in the name of idolatry, until her eyes blurred over and the unhappy vision of the beggars happily bowing before their new ox-god became washed away in a sea of salt tears and she turned away from them in anguish.
Brokenly, she fell across her bed and sobbed herself to sleep.