"That's better," said Borla. "No, better yet—" he gripped the frame with it's intact backing tightly in one hand.
He made a fist with his other hand, and with a series of crude punches began knocking out the split-bamboo backing which normally supported the backside of the soft clay in it's sturdy frame.
When all of the pieces of split-bamboo backing were broken loose and had fallen to the ground, he smiled at last, with a dry, irritated look in his eyes which only served to accentuate the haggard fierceness of his deeply lined face, and held up the empty frame to the light.
"Behold, the Invisible God!" declared Borla, as Emperor Euphrates looked on most interestedly, but without comment.
Emboldened by his Emperor's look of curiosity, Borla observed dryly, "Rather looks like an open door. Odd. Most such doors are located in temples, wherein idols are to be found."
Then with a vengeful, jerking motion of his arms, Borla broke the empty frame into pieces, and handed them back to a silent Si'Wren with a curt but formal bow, as he eyed her contemptuously.
Si'Wren took the pieces in her hand, and stood looking back at him without expression.
"Well?" said Borla to her. "I see no thunderbolt."
But Si'Wren made no reply. She was still grief-struck from the events of yesterday, and in spite of all, had never intended the slightest harm to Borla, even after what he had done. Perhaps the Invisible God was more wise than even she suspected, in permitting her to be subjected to such a vow of silence.
After all, what could she possibly have said to Borla? There was no fitting reply; not to him at least.