Softly, Si'Wren sang a prayer to herself for a day filled with blessings from Heaven for all who lived in Master Rababull's House, respectfully beseeching various and sundry gods as she followed a tribal melody with the words of her prayer. Forgotten were her fears, for there remained only, from time to time, that distressing silence of Nelatha, which Si'Wren had been so vainly at odds to dispel with her cheerfulness.
She had never been so happy, working in the spice tent. Only now, she was aware of the fact that she did pray to unseen gods. Gods whose graven idols were not in her immediate, visible presence, just as Nelatha had scornfully pointed out earlier when still on speaking terms with her. This led Si'Wren to consider more seriously the strange Invisible God of whom Nelatha had initially spoken.
Nelatha still adamantly refused to speak of the Invisible God, in spite of the fact that Sorpiala clearly meant no harm, and stubbornly refused now to so much as say one word about this or practically anything else.
But Si'Wren could not stop herself from wondering about this strange Invisible God. For the whole idea was still very unclear to her. She was still so young, and the world so vast.
She supposed that the elders of every village must know all about this Invisible God, and imagined that they must surely understand why His image could not be somehow made visible by the contrivance of wooden or golden idols made with hands. Yet, she was fearful of going to any of them and asking.
The least of the elders of any of the villages round about, and those also that sat in the gates of the Emperor's city, was each and every one of them, from the highest to the very lowest in rank, a great civil dignitary. That was how Si'Wren had always viewed them.
Such great men should not be trifled with, especially by a mere girl, and might severely chastise Si'Wren for her boldness, and perhaps as well for her blatant ignorance of such matters. What if, in their anger, any of them was to complain to her Master Rababull and shame him openly for the stupidity of the foolish girl slave called Si'Wren? The more that even one of them should happen to laugh and make mention of it to him, the more Master Rababull would punish her, it seemed to Si'Wren. No, it was not worth such a risk, merely to ask such a curious and doubtful question.
"Nelatha, I have longed that I might speak with you once more about this curious Invisible God," Si'Wren finally said, eyes meekly downcast to her work. "Why has He given us eyes, and then made Himself invisible, that none might ever look upon His face? Is it because He is ashamed?"
Nelatha worked on, as if she had not heard.
"Why would God be ashamed?" Si'Wren whispered, as if to herself now.