“It’s pretty,” Tad declared.
“As long as they have water,” Ann said in a raspy voice.
Gareth was about to tell them there had to be a well or spring when movement captured his attention. Two people now stood on the path in the shade of the largest building. Another was walking to join them. “They knew we were coming.”
“Blackie?”
“Yes, they saw him so they waited and watched,” Gareth said, feeling uncomfortable despite having no reason apparent for the feeling. Still, he hesitated. Another person joined those waiting. That made four.
The distance was too great to make out details, but one thing drew his attention. It was not the person, but what he wore. It appeared to be a green robe. A robe like those of the Brotherhood wore, but he couldn’t be sure. Gareth swallowed and started walking. Whatever was down there would answer questions he didn’t even know to ask.
Why he felt so sure was unknown, but instead of being scared he felt confident if a little wary. If Belcher came from there, it was reason enough to be scared. He heard the footsteps following behind, but Gareth took the lead for the first time. His presence might help protect Ann and Tad, but he didn’t believe it would be necessary.
People planning him harm wouldn’t stand in the center of the path and wait for them. As the distance closed, another joined the group, this one a woman carrying a child. He could sense all ten of them, with six standing in the road. Only four more, and as that crossed his mind, two more emerged from another building and joined the rest. Eight, counting the baby.
Gareth attempted to seek out their minds and failed. Each wore protection, as people might wear cloaks in a rainstorm. Their minds were there, just beyond reach, but closed to outside thought. The one in the center held his arms in front of himself, each hand in the baggy sleeve of the other arm. There was not a hair on the head, and Gareth knew there would be no eyebrows when he walked closer.
The others wore similar robes, but of different colors, all shorter in length than that of the Brotherhood, but made of the same heavy material. He saw sandals on the feet. Another figure, that of a younger woman walked from the doorway of a house carrying a baby. She joined the others, standing slightly behind the Brother.
Tad said from behind, “That’s all of them.”
All of the people living on this side of the mountains, every single one, stood within sight. Gareth slowed his approach as he came close enough to see their individual faces, but he still had one more shock to understand. Except for the Brother, seven were women and two babies.
Gareth lifted his chin and continues walking, a distance that seemed greater than crossing the mountains. At the edges of his wits Belcher emerged, like a fighter jabbing and dodging, he struck time after time as hard as he could but did no harm. Gareth ignored him like he would a persistent fly as he tried to understand what he walked into.
A dozen paces away Gareth pulled to a halt as the Brother advanced with his arms spread open in welcome. The man was old, far older than any Brother Gareth had ever encountered. His skin was loose and wrinkled, his eyes slow to track, and his back as bent as a branch of spiral wood. When Gareth closed the distance, the Brother stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Gareth and pulled him close as he kissed Gareth’s neck. In his ear, he whispered, “Welcome back, Gareth.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Gareth didn’t return the hug. He stood slack, arms at his sides. The action of the Brother was so unexpected he didn’t know how to react, and the words confused him further.
“Water,” Ann hissed from behind.
“May we have water?” Gareth asked, then after hesitation continued. “Why did you welcome me back? I’ve never been here.”
The old Brother used a voice so soft it was almost lost in the rustle of the leaves in the breeze. “Of course. Water first. We should have been prepared and had it waiting.”
A young woman in a pale green robe with a hood similar to the Brother’s took the hint when the Brother glanced her way. She turned and ran for the largest structure, fully two stories high and big enough to hold a hundred people. It was the same tan colored plastered wall, cracked and repaired many times, the variations in color indicating where the work had been done.
As she threw open the door, Gareth noticed two things. First, the walls were thick, fully as thick as a long stride by a tall man. Second, there were no windows. As those two items were considered, Gareth remembered the sound of the door closing. It was heavy. The sound of the door was low pitched but soft. For the woman to open a door of that size, it must be counter-balanced and the hinges well oiled.
On impulses, Gareth watched as the woman returned through the same door. It swung open easily, although it was thicker than Gareth’s hand. It was also taller than he could reach and wider than two outstretched arms, easily the largest door he’d ever seen.
She carried a pitcher and three mugs. All of the others waited until Gareth, Ann, and Tad nearly emptied the pitcher. Gareth’s trust was thin, and he kept watch on the people as he tried to collect clues as to what was happening. Most were smiling in what seemed pleasant ways.
The Brother stood as still a stone, not even his eyes shifting. He said, “We have a cabin for you. Our assumption was that you would wish to stay together.”
“We would, and thank you, but we are in a rush to return to our lands so cannot remain here long,” Gareth told him, using his most earnest voice and hoping to draw out information.
The Brother didn’t change his expression. He answered, “Also as we assumed. A meal has been prepared so all will enjoy meeting each other. However, no business is to be discussed until after. First, you rest and then we enjoy our meal.”
The response reminded Gareth of his youth in Dun Mare and matching wits with those of the Brotherhood. Before he could prevent his mouth from speaking, words were already spilling out. “No business is to be discussed? But we came to learn.”
He expected reactions from the people standing behind the Brother, if not from the Brother, himself. But all faces remained the same. The Brother spoke again, “If you learn nothing of us during our evening meal you are stupid. I know that is not the case.”
“Because you know me. You say that I lived here.”
“See? It has already begun.” The Brother said, obviously pleased with the wordplay. “You will not let us down. Please follow Haran to your rooms. Nap, rest, I’m sure you’re tired. You will be summoned for the meal.”
Another woman stepped forward and motioned with her hand for them to follow. Meanwhile, all the others departed in different directions. Gareth stepped to her side, “You are Haran?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you lived here?” Gareth persisted while watching the small house come closer with each step.
“Questions will be answered after the meal, but you already know that.” She opened the door to a cottage built of the same mud bricks and plastered to match the shade of the desert beyond.
Again the walls were thick, only a few tiny windows high on the walls, and as Gareth stepped inside the air felt almost cool after the heat outside. The floor was stones fitted together. One room. Three beds in a corner, each with a wooden storage trunk at the foot. Three crude chairs made of bentwood stood near the center and a table with three mugs and two full pitchers. Scones for candles were mounted on the walls at intervals, and two hammered iron candleholders suspended from the wood ceiling by lines tied to loops on the wall for raising and lowering.