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Cheney, Roland Jon

"Si'Wren of the Patriarchs"

"
Master Rababull paused again, as if regaining his breath before going
on. He pretended to be unaware of the presence of Sorpiala, and as he
looked out on the gathering crowd, there was a frown locked on his
brow. Their word-of-mouth would hound him to his dying day if he made
the wrong decision now.
He turned like a strutting peacock, and stared at Habrunt from the side
as he went on, but Habrunt dared neither turn his head nor look up in
acknowledgment as Master Rababull waxed eloquent.
"But still, in spite of my generosity and many past mercies upon such
acts of stupidity and foolishness as I have witnessed in all of my
days, I must ask myself the following question..."
Master Rababull stopped to look out across the courtyard of the great
House of Rababull, and fairly glared at the trembling slaves who had
gathered to watch.
"Come!" he commanded loudly. Hesitantly, a few shifted forward several
steps, but not too close. Master Rababull repeated, "Come, and behold
the handiwork of the gods! Come and see the foolishness of the mortals,
for what man is there who can put at naught what the very gods have
decreed?!"
The crowd watched with lurid interest. Many resented Habrunt his
position. Perhaps here was a chance at long last to watch Habrunt be on
the receiving end for a change, for clearly Master Rababull was vastly
displeased.


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