What shall I do? I do not want to interrupt her.
I slip away and wave my arms at the approaching throng. The foreman barks a command and the men come to a halt. The sound dies down like a wave retreating from the shore as each group of men in turn react to the command.
We wait. The men do not know why, but obey without question. The foreman approaches me, the question in his mind almost visible, I am too near the royal priestess and do not want to speak aloud. I try to indicate in dumb-play that there must be absolute silence and stillness.
At that moment I hear a sound from the waiting men that reminds me of wind through corn, a hush that becomes a roar, rises to a crescendo and then dies down again to a sigh. I look at them in surprise. Every eye is on something behind me. I turn arou
