"Surely, Habrunt, these maddened, screaming multitudes, which surround
us at every hand and froth madly at the mouth in the name of sanity;
are they with their voices then to be counted more blessed than she in
her silence?"
Bassdag squinted up at Si'Wren.
"Ye who can read and write, are the only remaining true believer
besides ourselves, and on top of this, thou art sworn never to speak?
This is a mystery! Look around you, girl! Look how they have forgotten!
Aye, they have forgotten all, even unto their one true God who is the
foundation of the world, and the judge of their very souls!"
Bassdag paused, and looked around, his eyes searching the souls of
individual faces in the deafening throngs. Si'Wren felt insignificant
compared to old Bassdag, because she was so much younger and
less-imposing in appearance than he. His frowning, wrinkled countenance
appeared all the more impressive and terrible for it's lack of a
singular target to fasten upon because of his half-blindness.
Continually assaulting Si'Wren's ears were the screams of the crowds at
every hand, as they loudly proclaimed their praises to the Emperor. The
torrent of noise made it difficult for her to listen to the two men
without craning her ear constantly.
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