He could do much with a sword…
Suddenly a third runner boy suddenly came hurrying past them both and bowed in perfunctory manner as he quickly announced a breathlessly gasped utterance to Rababull.
"Master, the great Physician is here!"
As Si'Wren lifted up her eyes slowly, her soul quailed at the sight of Habrunt's upraised fist, yet still she stared submissively into his tormented eyes, showing that never would she strive against nor resist he to whom she looked up as to a light in the spiritual darkness for all of her life however brief. If Habrunt could but know it, Si'Wren trusted him even more than she ever did Master Rababull or any living human being.
Then, Habrunt lowered his right fist slowly, as well as his head, although his left fist remained clenched tightly immobile in Si'Wren's crush of locks.
"Master, may I speak?" said Habrunt to the ground, as he maintained his steady grip upon the unresisting girl whose eyes his own had no strength to meet.
"Speak!" commanded Rababull impatiently. He was barely able to contain himself in his rage and impatience to get it over with.
Habrunt hesitated further, and dared not look up at his Master as he spoke.
"Most gracious and noble Master, was not this one greatly in thy favor before?" pled Habrunt.
He was taking a terrible risk, to speak so boldly of Master Rababull's former personal fondness for Si'Wren. Master Rababull had but to say the word, and the remains of Habrunt could end up in the dirt beside Nelatha.