"
Habrunt stood immobile, a handful of grain still clenched tightly in
his fist as he confronted old Geth with a hard look as the other
quickly nodded.
Properly abashed, the Fieldmaster bowed low as he intoned, as
ceremoniously as to the finest idol, "Thy words are gracious and
learned, Slavemaster. All shall be as you have spoken."
Habrunt kept his eyes hard upon Geth for a moment, and finally nodded,
apparently satisfied.
"Good!" he said loudly and pointedly to Geth.
Then he raised his fistful of grain and regarded it with equal levity,
before turning to Si'Wren. He held out the grain to her. Regarding it
dumbly for a moment, Si'Wren saw him nod encouragement to her, and she
took the clump of grain together with the clinging dirt and roots from
his hand.
"Go with him, little one," he said, in a soft and kindly voice. Then,
turning suddenly on Geth, he tilted his head back and declared, "Geth,
does she not come to you with grain already to hand? Take it, and be
satisfied. Behold, I, Habrunt, Slavemaster of the House of Rababull,
have spoken."
This was intended purely and solely for Geth's wise old ears, and had
been formally pronounced to show that Habrunt was in dire earnest, and
would be greatly displeased if further contradicted.
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