Netanel was slow in answering. He had hoped his words would fall on more receptive ears.
"We were enslaved to the Eypharians because of our own pride. We defied what Yahal asked of us to seek our own satisfaction."
With a weary sigh Netanel finished his reasoning.
"We have all been fractured since the Valterrian. Even the Eypharians. None of us are strong enough to raise a hand against the other. You stab at shadows."
Netanel looked at the men who had followed Hirem's misplaced zeal.
"Our people are so few, and yet you would make a sacrifice of them for an empty cause."
Hirem's invitation met a raised hand.
"It is good of you to offer me food. But I will not break bread here for the Masha."
Thinking of the men, Netanel looked toward where they were gathering.
"I will speak to these and depart."
Good as his word, the Rapa left Hirem's company. Eager to hear the word the Rapa promised them, the men began to gather. They had hoped for a blessing or encouragement stemming from Yahal's favor. Their faces were lit with happy expectation, but as Netanel spoke his gray tidings their countenances began to change.
Doubts they had harbored were being fed. They were no longer secluded from contrary thoughts. Netanel's dream and instruction turned the men troubled. He also spoke of the impossibility of their endeavor, separate from divine blessing.
They had left in fervor, but something different was stirring in their hearts. It was a still, faint voice, light as the wind, bidding them to depart. The same voice asked for Hirem to lay down his sword. It was a deeper call than Netanel's appeals.
Netanel departed, his face toward Yahebah, and after him walked thirty men. Come morning twenty-five more would depart, their conscience or fears awakened.