Then he turned brusquely on his heel and strode off to go and make his
rounds.
As Habrunt departed steadily through the gently waving fields, Geth
hefted a large, ungainly scythe in one hand, and turned almost timidly
to Si'Wren.
"Come," he said.
Si'Wren looked up with fearful eyes at his weathered old countenance.
Geth regarded her queerly, as if he had never seen her before, and then
repeated more quietly to her, "Come girl," this time with a more
reassuring nod.
He crinkled his face in an unaccustomed smile, and tilted his head as
he nodded unpracticed encouragement to her. For as Fieldmaster, he was
accustomed to giving orders and having them obeyed without question,
and greatly unused was he to meting out such pampering as he had been
gravely challenged by Habrunt to bestow so freely upon this shy one.
Meekly, she followed him in total silence.
"You must not be afraid," Geth said, leading the way. She followed him
over a low hillock to where a clump of trees grew at the edge of a
nearby field. Beyond the knoll, a peaceful stream meandered through.
The low mound of the hill blocked from sight a direct view of the other
field hands, and their view of the stream was also obstructed, neither
could they see the place in the field where Geth had decided that
Si'Wren might work alone and unmolested.
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