Tilting his great white-haired old head to one side at her open young
face, Bassdag said to her in a quavering voice, "Si'Wren, you must
never, never stop serving the Almighty Lord God."
"She does," assured Habrunt confidently, "and she shall!"
"That is good!" said Bassdag, with a slow, ponderous nod of his tired
head and stooped shoulders. "May the Almighty bless you, Si'Wren, and
may your name be remembered forever in Heaven."
He patted Si'Wren on the shoulder. Then, he let fall his arm, and
awkwardly, lowered himself back down again with the use of his
shepherd's crook and seemed not to see her anymore.
"You must come see me again," Habrunt said to Si'Wren. "I am always to
be found here, sitting with the elders in the gates of the city."
Then, Habrunt's face became more serious as he put his hands gently
upon both of her shoulders and looked down into her upturned, questing
eyes.
"Si'Wren, I would speak quickly of a certain matter, before you go. We
no longer have the Master Rababull to worry about. It is possible for
us to hope of living to the Invisible God, and--to ourselves..."
Si'Wren studied him as if seeing him for the first time, marveling at
his strange manner of speech. But Habrunt was so involved in putting
together his words that he was already going on, as if oblivious to the
way she suddenly changed her expression from one of attentiveness to
one of wonder while still looking up at him, her wide-open eyes
fastened upon his so intently.
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