The day was warm and pleasant. It was the kind of day to lull one into
a drifting somnambulance, inviting weary slaves to seize upon the
unwatched moment now and then to pause, and wander freely with their
eyes across the inner mind and the far skies, in spite of the
ever-present risk of sudden discovery and displeasure by the Master.
Nelatha's sudden intake of air accompanied by a frightened gasp of
startlement caused Si'Wren to cease abruptly from her labors and look
up quickly.
Immediately Si'Wren shrank back in an involuntary motion as she beheld
the terrifying sight of a hairy, muscled giant of a man, easily twice
the height of any normal individual. The giant had six great fingers,
like stout wooden pegs, on each hairy, enormous hand. Because of his
size he appeared to be walking with exaggerated slowness, although the
long strides with which he covered the ground took him across the level
courtyard and up the front steps of the House of Rababull in a
surprisingly short time.
His size was truly staggering to behold, and Si'Wren counted it her
good fortune that he was already moving away from the tent entrance in
such a way that she was not so much as glimpsed by him.
Such men, if they be men, could be unpredictably violent, and who could
withstand such a one when he should happen to suddenly lose his temper?
Although they were too big to ride horses, they could run on their long
legs almost as swiftly as any horse, especially in a short sprint when
attacking in a burst of speed.
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