Master Rababull did not bother to come around to the back of the tent where it was most expedient to enter. He simply stepped up to the front of it, seized the flaps in both fists, and jerked savagely, ripping them apart.
Nelatha let out a terrified little 'Eeeek!' as he stepped in and loomed hugely over her, his trunk-like legs sending mortar, pestle, and all crashing noisily in a dust heap. Master Rababull reached down and dug his clawed fingers into Nelatha's long tangled locks like talons of steel and with a single lifting motion of one bulging arm he twisted his rippling torso and heaved upwards as he jerked Nelatha bodily to stand before him. Then with his other arm he reached out and seized Si'Wren's hair and yanked her painfully before him also.
Standing over them with eyes glaring like lightning and a voice like thunder, Rababull looked fiercely from one terrified girl to the other as he shouted, "I was told a tale of a wicked slave who threw down one of my goddesses, and broke her to pieces, Nelatha!"
But Nelatha, utterly speechless, could only shrink back helplessly from that terrible stare.
Obtaining no response from Nelatha, Master Rababull turned his awful look onto a quailing Si'Wren and snarled down at her, "And another was heard to speak praises of the Forbidden One, the Invisible God!"
He held both paralyzed girls in his iron grip for a long, moment of dreadful silence. Around her, Si'Wren realized that all the compound had heard Master Rababull's furious voice and involuntarily stopped what they were doing to watch. Then Master Rababull turned himself around with both girls still helplessly in tow and dragged them physically from the tent by their hair.
"Habrunt!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "Habrunt!"
Habrunt came running with two boys trailing close behind him as they struggled to keep up on their skinny little legs. As he approached he slowed to a stop and immediately knelt down on one knee and clasped his fist rigidly across his chest to signify his immediate readiness to obey Master Rababull, come what may. That he had already taken in the plight of Si'Wren seemed inevitable, but he betrayed no sign of it.
The two runner boys finally caught up and, terrified by the mask of rage on Master Rababull's features, immediately threw themselves face-first flat in the dirt and lay trembling as they fearfully hid their eyes.
"I come at thy bidding, oh master," Habrunt intoned in his deepest and most servile do-or-die manner.