Many of the elders kept their wagons and tents in an area on the other side of the camp, and he headed that way. The wagons he passed now had a full complement of tightly wrapped bundles stacked on the trays underneath. Pots, ropes, other pieces of equipment hung on pegs along their sides along with water skins and sacks. The central fires bustled with activity as the older family members made preparation for the communal evening meal. Long low trestle tables had been set up around the central clearing. It made sense. Constantly on the move, a mobile community, they couldn't do with permanent furniture. Anything that could be transported on a wagon would be practical, hence the trestle tables. They could be slipped away under the wagon beds for transportation, along with so much else. There had to be less transient Atavist communities dotted about the place elsewhere, those involved in farming and raising crops. He wondered how they interacted, whether it was a system of trade and barter, but he couldn't think what it was this particular family might trade. Something for more thought, and he filed it away in the back of his head along with the multitude of other bits and pieces he was accumulating.
Now, where would he find Badrae? The elders were over that way, if he remembered correctly. He was just about to head toward their wagons, when he saw something that drew him up short and made him quickly reach for his hood. He had spotted Badrae, and with him was a pair of the other family elders, but that was not what had stopped him abruptly in his tracks. With them stood another man, an outsider, and he wore the robes of a priest. Witness Kovaar! Sandon ducked his head, trying to draw further into the shadow of his hood. What was the man doing here, of all places? Resisting the urge to turn and walk quickly away, he peered across the intervening space and watched.
The four men appeared to be in deep conversation. Badrae shook his head and held out his arms, palms outstretched. Sandon narrowed his eyes. Kovaar. But wait. This was not Kovaar. This man was heavier, with hair, and it was gray. It wasn't Kovaar at all. But that still didn't explain what a priest of the Church of the Prophet was doing here in the midst of an Atavist camp. The priest stabbed the air in front of him with one finger, and Badrae shook his head again. The other two elders were still discussing something, their faces close together, and then one of them turned and said something to Badrae. The older Atavist seemed to consider, then nodded slowly. The priest nodded in return, gave a formal gesture of blessing, then turned and disappeared between the wagons. Sandon hung back, waiting to see what would happen next. The three elders drew together in discussion. After a few moments more, the other two left, heading in different directions across the camp. Badrae remained, staring out over the evening activity, seemingly deep in contemplation.
After a moment's consideration, Sandon decided that this opportunity was as good as any.
"Badrae, Alise informs me that we're moving camp," Sandon said as he approached. Sometimes, the direct approach was as good as any. "I would like to come with you, if I can."
It took a moment for the older man to answer, and when he finally did, he seemed distracted.
"Oh, Sandon. Yes. Yes, if you want to. You are welcome among us."
"But where will you be headed?"
"Where the -- "
" -- Prophet wills. Yes, I know. But Alise said you were perhaps closer to the Prophet's will, that you might have some idea where you were headed."
Badrae seemed to collect himself, and he turned to look at Sandon's face, peering first into one eye, then the other. "Why is it so important to you, Sandon?"
Sandon hesitated, and the pause was enough to prompt a nod from the older Atavist.
"So be it," said Badrae. "You have your own reasons." He fixed Sandon with a steady gaze before continuing. "We will likely head to one of our settlements down on the plains. We need to stock up before Storm Season descends with its full force."
"I am not familiar with your settlements, Badrae."
The older man held his gaze. "There are several," he said. "The ones best able to fulfill our needs are to be found close to the area of the mines." His expression became slightly calculating. "Will that suit your purpose, Sandon Yl Aris?"
The use of his full name caught Sandon slightly off guard. "Yes, yes. Of course. And I am immensely grateful for all you've done for me, all you continue to do for me."
