Then Bassdag, in a tired, quavering voice, went on, "Tell me, Habrunt. Is this one sincere soul all that remains in all the world, to follow after the one true God now, besides ourselves? Just one soul, and that but a youth and a mere girl? Hath God in truth sworn to love the whole world, but settled in the end upon only this one soul, but not the rest?"
Habrunt shrugged.
"I know not, old one," he said, "but methinks you have spoken the truth in this."
Bassdag stared owlishly at Habrunt, and seemed shaken by the admission.
The shrieks of many in the crowd suddenly increased wildly for no reason which Si'Wren could discern, the inherent madness of the outcries making her uneasy as she sought to ignore them and focus on Habrunt and his friend.
"Surely, Habrunt, these maddened, screaming multitudes, which surround us at every hand and froth madly at the mouth in the name of sanity; are they with their voices then to be counted more blessed than she in her silence?"
Bassdag squinted up at Si'Wren.
"Ye who can read and write, are the only remaining true believer besides ourselves, and on top of this, thou art sworn never to speak? This is a mystery! Look around you, girl! Look how they have forgotten! Aye, they have forgotten all, even unto their one true God who is the foundation of the world, and the judge of their very souls!"
Bassdag paused, and looked around, his eyes searching the souls of individual faces in the deafening throngs. Si'Wren felt insignificant compared to old Bassdag, because she was so much younger and less-imposing in appearance than he. His frowning, wrinkled countenance appeared all the more impressive and terrible for it's lack of a singular target to fasten upon because of his half-blindness.
Continually assaulting Si'Wren's ears were the screams of the crowds at every hand, as they loudly proclaimed their praises to the Emperor. The torrent of noise made it difficult for her to listen to the two men without craning her ear constantly.