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Cheney, Roland Jon

"Si'Wren of the Patriarchs"


Everything took more energy than she was normally accustomed, and she
had to stop and rest frequently. It had been a long time since she had
eaten and exercised properly, and she grew faint too easily for her own
liking but could do little for now except take what rest she could.
At the pond, she knelt down by the water's edge and brushed the thin
skim-surface of dust and swirled parallel lines of bright green algae
apart in order to cup her hands and bring some of the clear underlying
liquid to her parched lips.
There she remained, and regarded the distant shore of the pond whence
the soldiers had marched past, taking up more water in her cupped hands
as needed.
Finally she arose and turned her head to take in her surroundings anew.
But suddenly she froze at the totally unexpected sight of tall Sorpiala
and her female slave servants, dressed in all their finery and waving
irritably at the flies as they all approached along the stony path.
Si'Wren grimaced wryly to herself, although she would never have dared
to do so openly where she could be seen, at the perceived justice of
their plight under the persecutions of the flies and mosquitoes they
openly swatted at. If one ate too many sweets and pastries, as they
always did, one's sweat stank, as theirs did.


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