The new arrival ran over and abruptly seized another slave by
the shoulders and began arguing rather vehemently as he shook the
smaller, terrified man in furious anger.
Habrunt stepped over and thrust himself bodily straight into the midst
of the exchange, immediately taking charge.
"Aye!" exclaimed Nelatha, shaking her head fearfully. "What a time to
come looking for trouble!"
"You said it!" Si'Wren agreed readily, with a frown. "But those two
have always been close friends! I wonder what it's all about?"
An argument like that at a time like this was not a good idea, because
the only possible winner would be the Master. Rababull could easily
become angry at both for acting like spoiled children in front of the
newcomers, causing him to be disgraced in front of them, as well as
spoiling his own good humor.
But Master Rababull had not even noticed yet, so there was still a
chance of settling the matter before it got too far out of hand. He was
too busy taking care of the caravan's needs, and a wise Habrunt was
determined that it stay that way.
But the argument, surprisingly, heated up again, with the one slave
persisting in his accusations and waving his arms even more wildly -if
it were possible- than before. Obviously not caring who heard him, he
kept imitating the motion of hitting himself in the eye, and then
shaking his fist at the other slave.
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