So Habrunt prevailed against the first one with
his staff, and then used the man's own sword to cut them down like
tares before they finally surrounded him and slew him by their
overwhelming numbers.
"Who could have preferred it any other way, least of all Habrunt
himself?" Ibi went on. "Many grieve besides you, Si'Wren, for the
memory of lost Habrunt. They say Habrunt stood his ground with none to
help him, and sought valiantly to defend the aged one who invented
writing, and who was slain together with him also. Yet his majesty the
Emperor Euphrates, on being informed of this, washed his hands of the
entire wretched matter and has chosen to do nothing whatsoever about
it."
Si'Wren felt hot tears well up in her eyes, stinging them, and blurring
her vision as she dropped her eyes from Ibi's, and stared numbly at the
stones of the floor where the tears fell from her cheeks in an
accumulated pattern of insignificant spatters.
So, that which she considered the greatest news of all, was no news at
all to her Emperor.
She felt at her pouch, without looking, for her ivory marking sticks,
and slowly drew them out with trembling fingers.
The great Emperor Euphrates was desirous that Si'Wren should instruct
him, on this long journey, on the virtues of the Invisible God, a God
who hated idols.
Pages:
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316