Markis pushed himself to his feet, brushed off his thighs and glanced over at the shelter where the rest of the men were clustered around a fire. His companion, Abaile seemed to be the main speaker for this small group of half a dozen travelers. He was a tall, rangy man, bordering on the edges of middle age. Everything about him exuded an aura of unkemptness, and the same was true of his fellow workers. They were currently on their way to some of the larger estates, looking for whatever employment might be on offer. Abaile had already made it quite clear that they were not particularly fussy about what they managed to get. They'd do anything if it paid. Bands like this roamed the countryside, working the factories in Clear and migrating to farm work in the less-forgiving Storm. There were always tasks in the weather's height that groups like this were eager to do for little pay, some food and a place to sleep when the day was done.
"Thanks," said Markis. "Have you worked out where you're going yet?"
As they wandered back to join the group, Abaile explained again. "No, Marky, as I told you, we don't make no plans like that. We take what we get. We'll head on up to the big houses, ask around. That's the way it works."
"But what about your families?"
They hunkered down around the fire together and Abaile looked around the faces of his companions and grinned. "Our families," he said. "Yes, well. I have a woman or two in a couple of the bigger camps around the place, and I'd be sure there's offspring there with a couple of them." He shrugged, still grinning, and one or two returned the grin.
Markis scratched his head. "But I don't understand how it works. How can that be right?"
Abaile reached for a bowl and spooned himself some of the hot mess bubbling away in a pot over the fire. He tossed Markis a bowl and said, "There, help yourself."
"There ain't nothing to be right," he continued. "It just is. It's about the work, and that's it. We get it where we find it. We can't be going around tied to one place, now can we? We got to follow the work, and the only way sometimes is to be there first, or we don't get it. Rather be sweating and tired than hungry." He frowned at Markis, crouched there with an empty bowl in his hand, and gestured at the pot. "Hey?"
Markis reached over and spooned himself a bowl of the nondescript stuff, hesitantly lifted some to his mouth and blew on it. Cautiously, he tipped the very end of the spoon between his lips. It actually didn't taste too bad.
"But how do people come to do that?"
"How do you mean? Some of us are born to it. Others, well, you know. There's a bit of trouble here, a problem there, they have to find somewhere to go. I'd say more on that, but it wouldn't be right. Just like we're not going to ask why you're here, Marky, if you see what I mean."
He did see. He still couldn't really understand what such a life must mean to these people. How could anyone just drift from place to place on the hope they could earn enough to feed themselves? Of course, he had known about these bands of itinerant workers, and even employed them himself on a number of occasions. There were many opportunities within Primary Production for groups such as this. And now, he might as well just be one of them.
As he lifted another spoonful to his mouth, he came to a decision. If he stayed with Abaile and the others, then he would be out of the public eye. Here he could wait for things to calm down, find out something more of these people at the same time, and when it was right, he could seek out his father and put things right. Just maybe, he could learn something that would assist the Guild and its work. He would show his father his worth, despite what Jarid might have said to turn the old man against him.
Twenty-One
"What do you mean they've taken that Atavist -- what was his name -- and locked him up? That's unbelievable, Priest. You cannot truly believe that."
Leannis Men Darnak frowned sternly at Witness Kovaar, testing the man's seriousness. It was all so wrong, but then, there was so much wrong at the moment. He and the remaining men had been stationed at one of the smaller holdings over the past couple of days, since Karin had sent him away. Since the... since...
What was happening?
