"What is it?" said Master Rababull, somewhat irritably now, rather than in a full rage. It seemed Habrunt had struck his mark with the unerring accuracy of a master archer, as usual.
"Master, I am but a coarse and brutal man, and thou alone art high and noble and altogether good. Invisible Gods deserve invisible praise, from invisible voices. If it be your pleasure, let this little one show with what purity of purpose she might have served her foolish Invisible God, by swearing a vow never to speak instead. The more she speaks, the more her Invisible God may be viewed as false."
There was a moment of silence, as Master Rababull thought on this.
"Well spoken, Slavemaster," Master Rababull finally said, his voice almost back to normal, almost relieved, in fact. "Let her never speak—forever! If she speak but once, let all bear witness to the falsehood of her Invisible God by the falseness of her broken vow, and her life be forfeit! Let her so swear!"
Habrunt had not bargained for this! But what could he do? What was determined now was not as vile as what had been declared before, hence, was not enough justification to turn his sword in furious rebellion against the House of Rababull.
Grief-stricken, he lowered his eyes to Si'Wren, and said resolutely, "Little one, do you swear by your God never to say one word for the rest of your days, so long as you shall live and breathe and have life in you, and to suffer death to yourself and dishonor to your Invisible God if you should ever fail to do so?"
Si'Wren realized that here was the chance, not only to redeem herself but her newfound Invisible God as well.
"I swear it," Si'Wren said.
"She has so sworn, Master," Habrunt immediately declared to Master
Rababull.
"Let it be so," rasped Master Rababull. "A fitting conclusion to the matter."