After talking to Remal and seeing him head off the way the others had gone (towards the Healer’s tent) Aron had spent a bit of time talking to some of the Leaders who were still there. Progress was going as well as could be expected with getting everything ready to move as soon as possible, they had decided to definitely take the entire camp together the long way around the marshy lake borders instead of sending anyone up over the hills, and dinner was almost ready. Some were certainly hopeful that their visitor’s claim would hold true, that the medicinal plants she knew about would indeed both help cure the sick and prevent more of their people from catching the same illness, but most were guardedly optimistic at best, until they could actually see some positive results. Since Rinna didn’t quickly return from having accompanied Emri over to meet Faver, and since Aron wasn’t needed for anything more pressing at the moment, he was dispatched to go check in on things there and bring back whatever word Rinna had for them so far.
As the youngest of the official Leaders of this village-turned-nomadic-camp, sometimes Aron felt more like he was the Leaders’ designated errand boy. Leaders didn’t officially apprentice like people typically did for a trade (and they still had their regular work to do, when the matters of the camp weren’t so dire as to require far more of their attention than usual) but it was generally expected that the first few years that someone spent as a Leader were mostly for learning from the elder Leaders and speaking on their behalf when they were too busy to pass on their own messages. Naturally, if any Leader speaking in official capacity were found to be misrepresenting the Leaders' Circle, that person wouldn’t be allowed to remain a Leader for long. They all had a right to personal opinions, but were not to falsely substitute them for official rulings on any matter. They, more than any other group in the camp, had to be able to trust each other and work together, or they couldn’t expect the rest of the camp to do the same.
Although there were others who had also been made Leaders in the past year, most of them were either at least several years older than Aron, or were indisposed with sickness. He had been the most recent addition, though he didn’t like to think about the fact that it had been not long after his wife’s death. It had also been soon after the death of some of their longest-standing Leaders, and the rest of them would not have asked him to join them simply to give him something to do, but he had to admit to himself that he had been a bit lost and working with the Leaders had given him purpose again. They must have seen potential in him to choose him at his age, but sometimes he did still feel like the youngest possible apprentice, a child in comparison. He had a lot to learn, and most of his time helping them he felt he was just relaying messages with lots of walking and also dealing with difficult people.
Which included Remal now, unfortunately. They had actually been friends not so very long ago, and Aron wished they still were, but Remal seemed set against it now. Actually, the guy seemed set against anything except a stubborn determination to be constantly working - whether doing his job as a scout, hunting, taking care of his mother, or absolutely anything to stay actively doing something. He’d help fix tents, collect firewood, shear sheep, anything that anyone was doing that they might be able to use an extra hand or two with. Aside from being stubbornly helpful with anything he could find when he didn’t already have something else to do, though, the man had become increasingly difficult to talk to about anything. He was impatient and defensive, and overprotective of not only his own near relations, but everyone in the camp. Sometimes he acted like he’d jump off a cliff without thinking if he believed that it would keep everyone else safe.
Some of the elder Leaders said that Remal was becoming a nuisance and needed to focus his energies on raising a family of his own (and that of course Remal’s own mother wished he would), and maybe that could be partly true in a way, but Aron was sure Remal simply would not be able to settle down as long as things stood the way they were. He was dealing with loss - by now, who in the camp wasn’t? - and maybe he wasn’t doing it in the healthiest way possible, but it seemed to be the only way he knew how, and it was a lot better than some other ways of dealing with loss that Aron could think of. One of which had been the way he himself had been headed before the Leaders helped turn him around, which had been in the direction of giving up on everything. That was behind him, though not all of the pain was yet. It had surely hurt earlier when Remal’s comment had reminded him, but it had also reminded him that Remal himself was hurting, too. That’s what he saw when he saw Remal get defensive and lose his temper over certain topics, and when he was being overprotective of everyone, especially his mother. When he looked at Remal, Aron saw a person who not only had lost loved ones, but believed he was still in the process of losing them.
The journey the camp had taken since leaving their village had been difficult so far, and there had been times they had lost many people, but it had only been a fraction of the number that they had all lost in the raid on their village that had made the survivors decide to pack up and leave their home to look for a better, safer place to live. Their once peaceful homeland had become a war zone, with different factions making different threats: one demanded they join their army and give tribute to their cause, another threatened to make them slaves if they didn’t willingly unite under their banner. After getting threats from various factions, another had simply come in and attacked their village to steal whatever provisions they could get in a quick raid. No nearby army had lifted a finger to help them, because they refused to protect any neutral bystanders who hadn’t already joined their own causes. None of that made any of the surviving villagers want to unite with any of the armies that were forming alliances against each other, so as much as they hated to leave their homes, they pinned their hopes on finding a better place to live, away from the wars and the constantly shifting borders. Aron and his late wife had together come away without any other close family remaining - unfortunately not unusual at the time.
Like many others, Remal had been one to lose both a parent and siblings, aside from other relations who weren’t as near. His father and older brothers had died trying to defend the village, and his mother’s health had declined steadily - though slowly - ever since. She had always been a strong woman who knew how to take care of herself (in fact, she had been the elder Healer who taught Faver) but it was true that her health was a lot worse off than it had been before, had no expectation of doing anything but continuing to decline, and it was obvious to everyone that Remal worried about her constantly. The great irony was that the harder he tried to avoid her having anything to worry about, the more reasons she had to worry about him. He did too much, didn’t eat or sleep enough, and if he ever got injured, he hid it from her as a matter of habit. She always found out eventually, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it - thus she continually expected him to be doing things that would put him in danger or avoid having an injury tended to - the result being that she constantly worried about him almost as much as he worried about her.
So Aron was not at all surprised to find Faver and Remal arguing about just that. Apparently, Remal had insisted the medicines be tested on him, in order to avoid Faver trying them himself (or on anyone else, surely) and now that Faver had a little time to observe that there hadn’t (yet) been any negative reaction from a sort of poultice tested on an insect bite on Remal’s arm, he was applying more of the same to other bites Remal had on his other arm, shoulders, and back.
“She’s going to find out soon enough anyway, you might as well tell her yourself.”
“There’s no need to! She’d only worry.”
“She worries anyway.”
“She wouldn’t worry so much if Brylin didn’t tell her everything.”
“No, she’d worry more - if that were possible.”
“Ow! What are you doing back there?”
“Seems like the freshest bites might sting a bit, I’m sure that’s fine. Serves you right anyway, if it’s nothing more than that. After I’ve finished with this, I’m going to clean up that cut you never told me about, and don’t you dare try to stop me.”
Remal grumbled something in reply that Aron didn’t quite hear.
Faver laughed a little, declaring: “You have got to be the most difficult patient I ever have to deal with. You’re either in here like this voluntarily so that someone else won’t have to be or more likely got yourself badly injured to avoid someone else getting slightly hurt, or else you’re going around with minor injuries that you allow to get infected because you won’t come see me about them, because you’re afraid you might run into Brylin and she’ll tell your mother about it. Now sit still, you won’t like this at all.”
Faver had traded the poultice medicine for the things he needed to take care of a wound on the back of Remal’s shoulder. He had a small pair of scissors that he’d quickly cut away a bit of dead skin on one side of a nasty (though not especially large nor deep) gash that was a bit jagged and quite inflamed. Then he dabbed at it with some alcohol - that was the part Remal really didn’t like.
“I said sit still.” Faver insisted, when for a moment it looked almost like Remal was about to get up off the stool the Healer had him sitting on. He grumbled again, low so that Aron didn’t catch it though he’d come closer. Maybe the scout was threatening to leave, even if he wasn’t really serious about it. Aron didn’t think Remal would; in spite of the way he acted sometimes, Aron believed Remal respected Faver enough to let him finish treating him once he’d started, and only a serious emergency would cause an exception to that.
Still, Aron decided to announce his presence by saying: “You want me to help you hold him down while you patch him up, Faver?” He used a mock-serious tone that he was sure they’d both recognize as joking, but Remal leveled a glare at him anyway.
Aron stifled a laugh and tried not to grin. It was funny to him, though. Instead, he looked to the Healer and said: “I take it things are looking hopeful?”
Faver nodded, keeping his eyes on the wound he was putting a few stitches over now that it had been cleaned out. He gave Remal a poke in the arm to again remind him to hold still. “Almost finished.” he said.
Aron decided to wait quietly for a minute or two or however long it would take Faver to finish. The Healer might have quite a reputation for keeping track of or doing multiple things at a time, but generally was not known to talk much while doing so. Not often, anyway.
Remal, however, didn’t seem to want to sit quietly. “So, you lurked around here all that time just to ask that, Spelal?”
Aron hadn’t been trying to sneak up on them, and hadn’t really expected that he’d been completely unnoticed the whole time he had stood around, in no hurry to interrupt - but he wouldn’t have called it lurking.
“Of course not, Haelson,” Aron replied cheerfully, “I also intended to ask how your assignment went, but I thought I’d wait until you looked slightly less uncomfortable.”
Remal grumbled wordlessly, and Faver spoke up instead: “What assignment is that?”
For a moment, Aron considered the best way to answer, but Remal replied first. “Making you look kind and sympathetic in comparison to those of us who are more abrasive, so you’d seem like the trustworthy sort a reluctant stranger might confide in. As if such a thing were necessary.” He said that with almost a hint of mockery in his voice; Aron wasn’t sure if it was more about the Leaders having set Remal such a task, or about Faver being more trusting than he was.
Faver did not seem to take it as humorous at all, nor did he seem to fully appreciate being portrayed as the nicer person in the situation. He frowned and poked Remal sharply in the back as he finished applying a bandage to his wound. “Does that mean,” he said disapprovingly, moving around to where he could face Remal while also keeping an eye on Aron, “that you startled that young lady on purpose?” He folded his arms and gave them both the kind of severely displeased looks that Aron was sure Faver gave to his daughter if she ever misbehaved.
Remal acted offended, but still had a little bit of a mocking attitude in his voice as he said, “Me? You think I’d cause someone to spill medicine on purpose?” He then spoke with a more even tone, saying: “She said she was something like an apprentice or a student; maybe she just isn’t very good at that sort of thing yet. Been doing a lot more studying and watching than actual doing, I’d wager.”
Aron tried to keep a straight face while they argued over it (while really not explaining to him what had happened in any greater detail), but the image Faver had suggested to his mind was of Remal sneaking up like a child planning to scare another while someone else was telling a spooky story around a watchfire at night. The sort of thing they used to do as children, only he was picturing Remal doing it as an adult, which was funny to him merely because Remal had been so serious for quite a while now. He didn’t play games with the children or engage in foolish nonsense that didn’t have any point to it - like pranks, childish stunts, and the like. Not anymore.
Aron was sure he’d hear more detail later about what specifically had happened. Whatever he’d done, whether on purpose or not, Remal was accomplishing exactly what they wanted him to do - except that their visitor was now nowhere to be seen and clearly not talking to Faver about anything they’d be interested in learning from her. But perhaps she was talking to Hin or Rinna. In any case, if he didn’t change the subject a bit, Faver and Remal were likely to go on arguing over whether or not Remal had been intentionally trying to scare the young woman while she had been helping Faver concoct medicines.
“So where is our visitor, anyway?” Aron cut in.