"Sometimes," she said. This time it was Sandon's turn to frown, but already he knew better than to try and seek more explanation of a statement like that one. It had all the characteristics of yet another as-the-Prophet-wills-it response. He looked sideways to peer at her face, but there was nothing for him to divine. She looked off across the landscape, a faint smile on her lips, the humming starting again, almost as if it had never been interrupted. He watched her for a while as they walked. If it had been another time and another place...
He would have to find Badrae soon, if they were about to break camp. He must find out which direction they would head, but he had no idea if the Atavist elder would be forthcoming about their plans either. With any luck, they would coincide with his own. He would find Leannis Men Darnak. He would find him and then, well then, he'd do what he did best. He'd observe and he'd assess and when the time was right, he would act. He had to put things to rights, or at least try. It was the least he could do for Leannis Men Darnak. He owed him that much.
Traveling with the Atavist family would allow him the freedom to get where he had to go undetected, and then, when he found Men Darnak's party, hopefully join with them. There were three main things he was counting on when that finally happened: The general lack of attention paid to the Atavists by the rest of the population should assist with his cover; the deep reliance on the teachings of the Prophet should give him some connection with Men Darnak; and lastly, his own role over the last few seasons, always in the background, always unobtrusive. All these things should work in his favor. He had already decided to borrow a supply of Alise's healing ointment to keep his skin stained dark. Pale-faced official Sandon would be transformed into the dark skinned, robed and bearded Atavist. There were too many ifs, but at least it was a plan, and he could improvise as he went along. He was good at that.
"Sandon, where are you going?"
He'd been so bound up in his own thoughts, that he'd completely lost awareness of his surroundings. He turned around to see Alise standing there, basket in hand, quite a distance behind. "Um, sorry. I was thinking."
"We will start here. Come, let me show you what we are looking for."
She placed the basket down on the ground beside her and knelt on the sandy ground. Feeling slightly sheepish, Sandon made his way back to where she waited for him expectantly.
"It is funny, Sandon. Sometimes you remind me of Tchardo. Do you know who I mean?"
As he joined her, he shook his head. The name was familiar, but he couldn't remember from where.
"In The Words of the Prophet," she said in response to his blank look. "Always lost in your own head. Always heading in another direction. You should learn to focus, as Tchardo did. Find the true path, Sandon. There is a lesson for you there."
Yet something else from that damned book. "Hmmm," he said.
He stooped to join her. Tchardo. It was a good name. It was a name that an Atavist might easily use?.
#
They spent most of the day wandering from place to place, stopping and gathering while Alise explained the purpose of one or another plant, how to recognize the areas they might grow, which ones to avoid. By the time they headed back to camp, Sandon was marveling at the level of knowledge she seemed to carry around in her head. As they wandered down the slope, Sandon could see that the preparations for departure were well advanced in their absence. They would be breaking camp soon, perhaps the following morning. He really needed to find Badrae. If they were truly going to be leaving, then the older man should be around the camp somewhere. He had to be.
"Listen, Alise," he said. "I have to go and do something. Will you be all right with these?"
"Yes, of course," she said with a smile. "I could have shown you what we need to do to prepare them, but if you have other things to do..."
"I would love to have you show me, Alise, but really, I have to do this now."
She nodded. "Thank you for your assistance."
"No, Alise," he smiled back at her. "Thank you."
As he headed off toward the camp's center, Alise made her own way to her wagon. Sandon felt a little torn. He really would have liked the opportunity to spend some more time with her. Still, he had other priorities now.
