Si'Wren sensed a great consternation in Emperor Euphrates, though she barely glimpsed him out of the corner of her eye as he continued to read her words as fast as she could write them.
Then, she finished her statement as her sticks worked almost in a blur;
'Shall I bow my living face down and eat of the dust that not only covers all things but also collects upon their dumb wooden heads?'
Si'Wren stopped and sighed, waiting, and expecting any moment for an avenging sword to be loudly and vehemently called for, that she be dispatched in no short order with the same gruesome fate such as Nelatha had suffered.
But all she heard was the heavy breathing of her mighty Emperor Euphrates, as he stared long at her clay words. She knew he was especially fond of her personal manner of marking the clay, her especially delicate but incisive 'writing style', which was as rare art to the old monarch, but she knew also, that this former fondness of his toward her would only serve to make him all the more angry, should he finally pass the boiling point in his outraged idolater's heart.
The pale morning fire danced and flickered, the flames hot and virtually invisible in the gathering light of day, and she remembered a delirious dream from that terrible, dark night immediately following her evil punishment by Master Rababull. Then, she had only imagined demons—or had she? Si'Wren considered silently, reflecting upon events in her mind. Were there not real demons round about them in the wilderness, following them by day like an invisible cloud of spirit gargoyles, and hemming them in by night, seeking the death of one such as she by the hand of some mad possessed sword-wielder should her Emperor but once command it?
"Truly, no mere idol-worshiper has ever spoken to me thus," Emperor Euphrates nodded wryly, as she perceived that even as he read her words, he was now thoroughly enjoying himself with the game of foolish girl and divine Emperor. But which would he honor; the 'false truth' of his idols, or the 'truth made foolishness' of her Invisible God? For, far too often, her words did seem foolish, even to herself.
Then he looked up in grudging acknowledgment, a mighty Emperor's honest tribute to a mere girl scribe's simple wisdom, and said;
"Si'Wren, oh my beautiful, literary one, I suppose if the same spiritual laws were applied by this Invisible God to all without exception, would it not be made obvious that God is no respecter of persons, and that even Emperor Euphrates himself is but one more humble subject before him?"
At this, Si'Wren, regarding her now-cooled wooden bowl of porridge, hesitated a long time. She felt deeply overawed, that she should be given such unprecedented favor in her Emperor's eyes as to blaspheme his gods so freely and treat them all as false. Perhaps he was only playing with her to mock her beliefs, before finally putting her out of her misery. Any conversation with the Emperor was a matter deserving of the most serious consideration, regardless of whether it be mere jest, or otherwise.