"Do you get my meaning, Geth?"
Geth nodded, squinting to show that he was fully aware of Habrunt's
true wishes and was of no mind to make bones to dry in the sun about it.
"Aye," said Geth. He turned to Si'Wren with a wry look, appraising her
carefully and noting her slack posture. "So she is ready for the
harvest, is she? From the look of her, your pretty new field hand has
many good years in her yet, but just between the two of us,
Slavemaster, quite frankly; she looks tired out already."
At this, Habrunt reached down and clenched his right hand around a
fistful of grain stalks, and uprooted the clump up by the roots. Then
he looked at old Geth pointedly.
"This little one is not half as tired as you shall become, if you do
not plant your words as carefully as your crops. If I say she is ready,
she is. Give her tools, water, and provender, and spare your heavy hand
when your eye would mark her shortcomings. Put her over by herself, and
keep a proper shepherd's watch on her. Any good shepherd boy knows his
sheep by name. Behold, I have brought you Si'Wren! If she so much as
lifts a finger to her work, tally the ledger for a full day's output
and see that the others make it up to you, until she can carry her own.
See also that there is peace kept in your fields, lest another mightier
than thou shouldst come and replace you, the better to set all in
proper order again.
Pages:
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138