Grove Camp
Rigel sat with Ryan and Oran overlooking the place where they’d dug for water, where the day’s troubles had begun. They spent a good deal of time talking about anything but Anaph. Across from them, what had looked like a sort of cliff was clearly just that: granite, Ryan claimed, carved by a river that once flowed here. Where their dry watercourse had been was now a pond; it filled a basin that was granite all around – just as Ryan had realized, a bit too late to see the consequences. Some quirk of the flood waters had scoured everything out of that pocket – between three and four meters deep, it looked (no one had gone in to measure; when Antonio had reported the discovery to Rigel, Rigel had decreed it off limits until the water had cleared, and all their bottles filled; only then was anyone going in).
It seemed hard to believe that a river had once flowed there. That meant that the whole grassland had actually been lower, Rigel figured; then the river dried up, and the land got higher somehow. Not that I really mattered; they weren’t staying any longer than they had to, anyway.
They tried not to discuss the injuries, either. Devon’s arm was in a sling made of his own shirt; Rita wasn’t going to be moving for a while; Oran, Chen, and Antonio were scratched up. Then there were the more subtle injuries: Lumina wasn’t improved at all, and had to be led around like an infant; Crystal was jumping at every little thing, and muttering to herself constantly; Anaph...
“Let’s look around the grove better”, Ryan proposed when Anaph’s name came up again. “Since we’ll be staying here awhile.”
“Right”, Oran agreed. “Get to know it better.”
“Yeah”, Rigel responded sarcastically. “And maybe there will be buried treasure.”
Oran laughed. “Know what I think would be treasure? A sleeping bag, a lantern, and a mess kit.”
“A tent, a self-inflating mattress, and... a pillow”, Ryan said. “Your turn, Rigel.”
“Treasure?” Rigel mused. “A flint striker... a camp saw... a compass.”
Ryan looked at him closely. “You really are turning into a leader. We thought of things for ourselves, and you thought of things that would help everyone.”
“The striker and camp saw would help
me”, Oran teased.
“The time you saved with the fire would help everyone”, Ryan pointed out. “You’d have time to help with other things, too, and that would help everyone.”
“Any of us could start a fire, with a striker”, Rigel said. “Any of us could cut wood with a camp saw.”
Ryan nodded agreement. “Here’s another treasure: a sharpening kit.”
“And a shaving kit”, Oran declared with a grin, tugging at his chin. “This beard’s getting long.”
For him it was a joke, but for others it was more serious, Rigel thought. His face was getting fuzzy, and itching, and he wasn’t alone. And the girls were unhappy with the hair showing on their legs. He’d been putting it off, but maybe it was time to talk with Antonio about turning a blade into a razor.
They meandered. Rigel felt somewhat guilty about not helping with the camp, but he needed time to let his thoughts drift, and absorb what has been happening. He figured that since everyone had sort of made him leader, he deserved some time to get his head clear, so he could make good decisions.
“Identify yourself!”
Rigel stared at Chen, who had just stepped out of a gap in a sod wall that was four feet high. It actually had a gate: two upright oak logs held in place by sod piled against them to shoulder height, and then another layer outside that. The outside of the sod piles sloped, rising at about a seventy-degree angle instead of ninety. The walls sloped, too – and that sloping face ran four meters in either direction from the gate, which was topped by a slender oak branch that still had leaves.
Oran stepped ahead of Rigel, who’d stopped at the surprise. “Comes now Rigel, lord of this humble domain and our leader”, he proclaimed, grinning widely at Chen. Ryan burst out in laughter.
Chen made a half-bow, bringing the spear he’d blocked the gate with upright. “Enter then, Lord Rigel, and welcome to this your hall.” Rigel gave him a dirty look –
“lord”, my ass!
From inside he could see more of the wall: it went all the way around, enclosing the space completely except for the gap where Chen stood guard. Almost straight ahead was a massive oak, with a young one right in front of it. A fire pit had been fashioned, and more.
Ocean came to give them a tour. “It’s wonderful!”, she gushed. “The universe provides when asked – see?” Her waving arm took in the whole of the camp as she spun, eyes aglow. Rigel wondered that she didn’t lose her balance on the uneven ground – and that’s when it hit him: the ground was in fact smooth and level, and as he looked around he realized that no roots poked up through for anyone to trip over, no tangles of grass or moss stuck up to entangle feet, no branches hung so low as to be in the way....
“How....?” he asked, at a loss for words.
“Oh, see it all first!” she urged. “Come!”
The details of Ocean’s enthusiastic and kind of mystical tour were boring, even annoying; at least Rigel and Ryan found them so – Oran went off to see what someone had done with the fire pit, which had been his domain, so he didn't share their suffering. She absolutely had to show them every detail, and make those details part of some almost supernatural plan; and she absolutely had to tell not just Rigel and Ryan (over and over) how wonderful it all was, she had to tell everyone they met – which she’d probably done before, but that didn’t seem to bother her in the least.
“I bet she found something fun, and got high”, Ryan whispered once when Ocean was gushing and bubbling to Crystal how fine her “mattress” of dead grass looked, and how wonderful it would be to sleep on, and...
“I hope not”, Rigel whispered back. “We have enough troubles.”
“Unless maybe it works as a pain killer”, Ryan mused. “That would be worth it!”
Rigel stopped to talk with Rita, who said her back felt like it was burning, and was stopping to itch terribly. He wanted to look at the wounds, but Ocean shooed him away. “Anaph says the covering must stay. Now, come see....”
For a while he thought she would never run out of things to describe. Patience with her ran out when he was trying to talk with Devon about his arm: she took his arm to pull him along.
Rigel calmly grabbed her wrist and moved her arm away. She tried to grab again, but for all her efforts he stood holding her wrist, which stayed like it was stuck on a wall hook and wasn’t going anywhere. Some force Rigel hadn’t felt in himself since he stood up to a counselor at summer camp one year simmered, boiled, and broke free.
“That’s enough. You don’t grab me like you’re in charge. I’m listening to your tour, but when I want to stop and talk to one of my people, I will do so – and you will not try to bend me against my will.” Rigel caught her eyes with his, and she couldn’t look away. As he spoke the last words, her eyes widened.
Rigel didn’t know what a curtsy was supposed to look like, but when with his final word he released her, she bent her knee and bowed. “As you say, lord”, she whispered. Rigel and Ryan looked at each other. “‘Lord’?”, they mouthed silently, together.
But Rigel knew it was no accident: in his mind, as he spoke, he felt as he imagined a feudal lord might, talking to... a serving woman. And some of his words hadn’t been ones he would have chosen. That troubled him, and he made a mental note to talk with Ryan about it
Later, Casey drew a map of the camp, and it was like this:
Tour over, Rigel realized there were some people missing. He made a guess at one. “Is Antonio hunting?”
“Yes”, Ocean exulted. “We will have fresh meat!”
“Who went with him?” Rigel knew Antonio wasn’t such a fool as to go alone.
“Dmitri.”
“Where’s Tanner?”
“Up the blesséd oak.” Ryan gave her a look at that, and shared a glance and shake of his head with Rigel. Anaph had changed, and was still changing, becoming... something. Now Ocean – well, she’d seemed a bit New Age and mystic before, but it had been like a layer over an ordinary person; it seemed that the ordinary person was fading, and the mystic (and airheaded, Rigel told Ryan later) part was coming out and dominating.
“Anaph and Austin?”
Ocean didn’t say anything, just smiled beatifically. When Rigel insisted on an answer, all she said was, “Ask Casey, lord.”
Casey blushed a little, but grinned. “They found a good... spot”, he informed Rigel. “You’re the only one I’m s’posed to tell. C’mon.”
If he’d had to give directions later, Rigel would have said, “Past the half-broken oak tree, through the patch of ferns, past two more oaks, and hang a left at the huckleberries. Go twelve paces, and around the fallen oak full of vines and thorns.” Casey pointed them at that last item, grinned, and headed back.
