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Cheney, Roland Jon

"Si'Wren of the Patriarchs"

Evidently, he knew where to get more for himself. Was he
going to get his food by taking it from someone else, perhaps from the
worst 'slackers' among them, and enjoy their additional grumbling at
such added insult all the more while they unknowingly made up for her
lack of production? If so, she could do nothing about it.
Suddenly, she started as his coarse voice called out unexpectedly
across the field to her, "Si'Wren!"
Si'Wren looked up anxiously, as she saw his head and shoulders reappear
over the top of the small hill, peering narrowly across the crest at
her. Too weak to stand, she dipped her head once quickly to show her
compliance, and regarded Geth attentively to see what he wanted.
"Have I not charged the young men that they shall not touch thee? One
thing more is needful, and then I shall leave you be for awhile. If you
see any wild animal," said Geth, "scream very loudly, and I will come
with my field hands and their sharp sickles, and cut it in pieces."
Eyes widening in sudden alarm, Si'Wren nodded quickly, and bowed low in
acknowledgment. Suppose they did not come in time? Better to endure
the insults of the others than that. And how should she dare to scream,
seeing she had taken a vow of silence, lest she dishonor her Invisible
God, and die for it too? Oh, would that he had not gone off and left
her so all alone like this out in the open!
She made as if to wave him back, but Geth had already turned away
again, and shyly she sat watching with deepest regret as the back of
the friendly old Fieldmaster's bald white-fringed head slowly
disappeared over the crest of the low hill.


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