Si'Wren felt an agonized pang of sympathetic grief for the injured
child. She knew him well, and he had always been so harmless and
gentle. Now, the boy's left eye was gone and only a emptily staring,
bloody cavity remained where his innocent soul had once looked out on
the world. Only his good right eye remained, and that one, coupled with
his occasional shrieks, betrayed his continuing agony.
Again, Nelatha and Si'Wren exchanged knowing, fearful looks. Rababull
suddenly ordered several men to seize and hold the little bully's
father immobile before him as all looked on to see what would happen
next.
As Rababull questioned the father of the offending boy, the man, scared
witless, jerked his head back anxiously, and replied loudly and
emphatically in the negative.
Then he looked at his own boy and nodded his head as he gabbled out his
protest of the suggested judgement through lips black-stained from his
secret addiction to some foul intoxicating substance, and Si'Wren could
easily read the gesture.
Not me--him!...
The father was clearly expressing his opinion that whatever punishment
was merited, although it had been charged directly to him as penalty
for his own boy's misbehavior, he clearly preferred the boy to suffer
for his own wrongdoing.
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