The shout came from behind one of the sandy hills of mine leavings and Sandon swung about to see what was happening. Slowly, in a seemingly unordered fashion, the first padders and wagons appeared, making their way around the edges of the humped piles of discarded earth and rock. Despite the stupidity of it, Sandon felt his heart lift. He had only spent a mere few weeks with these people, but he continued to feel a closeness to them all the same. And he was still dressed like one of them ? Tchardo the Atavist. It was almost like his family was coming home.
Not wanting to be too obvious about it, he searched for sign of a particular wagon. At last, he was rewarded. A neatly painted vehicle appeared around the bend. He watched it out of the corner of his eye as he walked across to one of the Kallathik groups to see how preparations were going. He didn't want to appear too eager, did he?
The group had been here for three days now, just outside of Darthan, near another cluster of mines and another Kallathik settlement. People, Kallathik, mineworkers had been streaming in from nearby areas to join them. Not an hour before, Fran had returned, bringing news of Tarlain. He sought among the assembled humans for the boy's face, trying to locate him by his hair. Finally spotting the boy, he headed across to meet him. Fran was standing with a group of the other Men Darnak retainers, but of the old man, there was no sign. A quick look about gave Sandon no hint as to where the Principal might be.
"Fran," he called as he approached the group.
The boy quickly looked around as he heard his name, and making his apologies, stepped back from the others. There was a half smile on the boy's open face as he neared.
"Tchardo," he said. "It's good to finally get a chance to talk to you."
Sandon placed a hand on his shoulder and drew him out of earshot.
"Yes, sorry it's taken so long. With the preparations the way they are, things are a bit hectic. So, you managed to talk to Tarlain?"
Fran nodded. "He wasn't very happy."
"No, I expect he wasn't. So, what's the news?"
"Oh, he's coming. He cursed his sister, his brother, after he had gotten over the shock. The news hurt him bad. He vowed to make amends for what they had done. He would have come straight away, but said that the work had to be done first."
"So, was there any trouble finding him?"
Fran shook his head. "Not really. Once I was in Bortruz, it was easy from there. He'd been talking to people, making speeches. They all knew him, knew where he'd gone. The whole place was buzzing with it. He'd really stirred them up."
Sandon nodded thoughtfully. "So, it appears that young Tarlain has inherited something of his father's spirit. I wonder what happened to bring that out."
Fran shrugged. "I don't really know anything about that," he said.
"No, no. But that's fine. You've done well, Fran," he said, clapping the boy on the back. "Thank you. Now, we should get back and see what we can do about helping the preparations. You go back and join your companions, but listen, make sure not to let on about whom I really am. It's not time yet."
Fran nodded seriously, and then grinned. "It's good to see you, Tchardo." Sandon returned the grin easily.
He watched as Fran headed to rejoin the other Men Darnak retainers, and then turned about to search again for the familiar wagon, stroking his beard thoughtfully. He was a little nervous about seeing Alise again. No matter that everything had been so easy between them from the start. Events were taking over now, and he couldn't afford for it to become complicated. Not yet.
