Master Rababull's anger was obvious, but
still in check, if only barely. Reaching the far end of the landing, he
turned to look back at them both and remained ominously silent, during
which interval Sorpiala and two of her maidservants peeked out
whispering excitedly to one-another and then ducked their heads back
before Master Rababull should deign to properly notice them.
For who knew what he might do at a time like this?
More onlookers had gathered in the courtyard to watch, knowing from
past experience, that by now, Master Rababull would enjoy their
audience more than their intrusion. It was too much of a spectacle for
them to miss. This was real entertainment! Perhaps heads would even
roll, as had happened with the still comparatively recent punishment of
Nelatha. In fact this was even more fun than to throw stones from the
stream banks at a drowning animal or person, another popular pastime.
"Slavemaster, what I find here is a signal act of the gods which I,
even I, Master of the House of Rababull, dare not contradict. What
would my servants -my friends?!- think of it? In fact, should word be
passed around, I must ask myself before I cast doubt on the
authenticity of such a marvel, whether the Emperor himself might not be
displeased to think of such religious insubordination on my part.
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