Then Habrunt, with a visible sense of renewed urgency in his entire
manner and physical posture, sent another runner boy scurrying across
the yard. The boy quickly returned with Prut, one of Rababull's biggest
and most trusted slaves.
Nelatha and Si'Wren, still keeping up a pretense of labor as they
watched unseen within the veil of their tent, exchanged dire, fearful
looks.
Prut was a powerful man, and whenever he was called in to help take
charge of a situation, it usually meant grief to whoever Prut was put
after. Prut could lift two times his own weight over his own head,
maybe even more, and although not a giant, he was certainly big enough
by ordinary standards.
A stone-faced Prut listened to Habrunt's instructions, and then turned
and tromped over to a large group of boys who had gathered to help
unload the caravan, and as soon as he had relayed Habrunt's
instructions, the boys all fanned out searching in all possible hiding
places and out-of-the-way corners.
Habrunt, meanwhile, had gone off to the fields, perhaps to go looking
for himself. Whatever it was, it was no small matter. He soon came back
carrying the agonized, writhing figure of a small boy in his arms,
followed by a small crowd of openly angry women and other children.
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