At what
had once been the spice tent Si'Wren trembled at the sight of the
damage. Not only was the tent ruined. Priceless herbs and salves had
been scattered and spilled. The powders of many different sun-dried and
painstakingly ground-up plants had been intermingled in the dirt, and
the bugs were already starting to get into things.
Such was the measure of her Master Rababull's outrage, that he cared so
little for the damage to the spice tent, his own property, in the
course of executing his punishments. The thought of this, and of the
severed body of Nelatha, made Si'Wren afraid to even think of ever
facing her master again, and the fear that possessed her now stifled
any desire to speak, on top of the fact that she had already sworn an
oath not to talk anyways.
"Take what you need," Habrunt said, his face grim. "Hurry!"
His words brought her out of her momentary confusion, and Si'Wren
worked quickly to sort out only that which was needful. Perhaps she
could come back and clean up the rest of the mess later.
When she was ready, she turned and dipped her head in a little nod as a
signal to Habrunt.
Without a word, he turned and led the way. He took her across the big
open compound near to the place where the long caravan of heavily laden
beasts stood chewing their cuds along one high stone wall, just inside
the front gates of the sprawling compound.
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