Habrunt reached down and took hold of her by the upper arm and pulled
her bodily to her feet, although he did not jerk so roughly as to hurt
her in the slightest.
"Come!" he commanded.
He marched her up the slope, his calloused hands holding tightly onto
her as he marched Si'Wren up the grassy slope to the top of the rise.
Si'Wren felt so weakened by fear that only his strong grip kept her
from stumbling and falling.
The wind partially obscured her vision by casting her dark hair across
her face, as she occasionally glimpsed the other field slaves pausing
to gawk at the sight of their Slavemaster and his diminutive miscreant
making their way to the top of the low hill.
Habrunt faced her and made certain that what must happen next would
take place in the sight of all field workers, and declared loudly and
formally, "Sorpiala has charged thee before the Master, and behold,
thou hast been judged and found wanting. Now you shall learn what
happens to those scoffers who dare to offend the House of Rababull!"
Habrunt let go of her suddenly, causing her to fall backwards into the
heavy standing grain in such a way that she tumbled harmlessly into the
tall stalks which made a gentle whispering sound as they cushioned her
fall.
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