3.6

Remal kept walking, leaving them behind in the tent, where whatever they said next was muffled with the distance he'd already put between himself and them by the time the flap fell into place behind him in the tent's doorway.

And then, abruptly, he realized that he didn't know which way his mother's tent was now located, from where he was. He muttered a couple of choice oaths this time (not-so-tame ones) and kept walking. Brylin had said she'd moved Mother's tent closer to the Healer's tent, so it must be nearby somewhere.

Pausing for only a brief moment to re-orient himself, he realized he hadn't been paying much attention earlier when they'd walked back into camp. Not to the tents, anyway. there really were a lot less of them. In the direction he was facing, almost all the tents on that side of the camp had been taken down, packed up and moved. Turning and walking to the other side of Faver's work tent, he noticed there were a lot more tents crowded around the ones used for the sick, especially on the side furthest from the marsh. Just this morning, there had been open space there. To one side of that, a number of carts and wagons were already assembled and waiting for the morning. A collection of quickly-put-together sleds were there as well, and more wagons were arriving and being parked with the others.

Walking purposefully, he acted like he already knew where he was going, and not just in case Brylin happened to look out. Remal prided himself on being able to find his way, and didn't want to go back and ask for directions from Brylin. It was true that he wanted to look in on Mother, but also true that he'd simply wanted to get away from Brylin and the rest for a little while. He was grateful that Faver had allowed him that instead of trying to stop him, as Faver had also allowed that morning. Even if Faver did still want to keep Remal under observation, he seemed to be okay now with letting Remal go off by himself sometimes. Hopefully Faver would also (and soon) ease up on how many times a day he insisted on checking Remal over.

Soon enough, he did locate Mother's tent. It really wasn't far, only a little way beyond where that washing-up tent had been positioned. Among all the other tents, it stood out to Remal. Not too big, it also was one of a minority to have not been hastily assembled when they all left the Downs. Carefully constructed of not-too-heavy fabric with a waxy coating over the exterior to avoid soaking up rain. It wasn't new; it was one that Remal's father had made years before to use on long hunting trips, and it was a bit worn in places. Still, it held together well with custom-fitted poles for a frame, and didn't take long to pull down or set up. It even had a bit of decorative stitching around the tent's door. A majority of other tents (especially the larger ones) had been patched together using whatever large pieces of fabric people were able to scrounge up at the time, even using old woolen blankets, sackcloth, and things like tablecloths. Many of them really needed better fabric more suitable for tents as the weather turned colder, but at least they had the resources to weave more, if the camp could get some place to rest a while, and out of crisis mode. In any case, imperfect tents were better than no tents (usually) Remal thought, and at least it made it easy to distinguish any one tent from among the others with such a wide variety of patchwork.

Maintaining his purposeful walk, he pretended to himself that he hadn't cared whether anyone saw him hesitate over which way to go. He felt good about having found Mother's tent quickly, and without help. A small victory, but nice.

Remal decided on a course of action even before he opened the tent door and saw how dim the light was inside, in case Mother was asleep. He'd walk in quietly and pretend he was there only to locate his old hat. Father's old hat, really, but it was his now. And it was much lighter weight and not so stiff as the new one Brylin had tried to push on him earlier. Well-worn and comfortable, and made from a finer yarn than the bulky stuff Brylin had used to make the new one.

Though he did try to be quiet in the dim light, he wasn't really trying his best to be stealthy. He just wanted to be quiet enough to not wake Mother if she was dozing. He expected that if she was awake, she would recognize his footsteps. She always did. Her eyesight was poor now, even up close (though it was worst at a distance), but her hearing was still rather keen.

"Find what you're looking for, son?" Mother's voice called out softly, after he'd looked in the first two places where he thought the hat would most likely be, and ran a hand through his hair while considering where he thought the third-most-likely place was.

Mother sat in a low wicker chair, simple but with a high back and arm rests. He looked at her and gave a small shake of his head.

"Hat." Remal stated.

"Check in the trunk." Mother replied, with a nod to the other side of the cot she slept in - when she wasn't dozing in her chair.

Sure enough, the hat he sought was right on top under the lid. That was the box Mother's clothes were kept in, though, and nearly the last place Remal would have thought to find the hat. Perhaps Mother had put it there to hide it. Brylin might have considered throwing it away if she'd found it while moving the tent. Or maybe she'd use it to scrub dishes with.

Remal turned the old hat over in his hands. Sure, it was wearing thin in places, but the holes had been darned up and it was serviceable. The goat-wool yarn had been nicely felted, and he happened to like the faded colors.

"Brylin made you a new one, you know."

"I know. I like this one."

Mother chuckled in response.

"Faver can have the other." Remal insisted. "Or Nina. She'd look cute in an oversized hat."

Mother laughed fondly. "That child is cute no matter what she wears."

Briefly, Remal thought how much Nina reminded them both of Remal's little sister, the youngest in the family who had died years before when a terrible flu had gone through the Downs. She'd been about the age that Nina was now, and Remal had only been a couple of years older than that, at the time. He remembered that Father had once said that of all their children, she was the one who most resembled what Mother had been like as a child.

Instead of bringing it up, however, Remal nodded again and said, "Yes, she is." He then promptly changed the subject.

"How are you?" With the hat wadded up in one hand, he patted Mother's arm with the other and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Should I get you a blanket, or some water? Dinner will be ready soon, I could-"

"Oh, stop fussing, I'm fine." Mother said, interrupting. "Why don't you sit and tell me what's got you all worked up this time. I heard the way you stomped in. Something's annoyed you, and don't say it's about the hats."

Remal pulled up a little stool to sit on, but frowned while considering whether to answer that. He picked idly at a spot of small, loose wool fibers that had formed into a tiny ball. The hat had a lot of those, but he picked one that seemd like maybe it could be teased off, just for the sake of fidgeting with something.

He wasn't sure how much she had heard already, about him in the past couple of days.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around, though maybe Brylin has said..." he trailed off.

"Yes, she told me that you've been helping Faver with his work. Whatever you're doing to help must be important, because you've never liked being cooped up indoors. I heard you went out today with a group gathering herbs, though, so that must have been better for you. I remember when you were little, and the only times you were ever glad to help me was when I went out gathering. Even if we were collecting mushrooms and other fungus, grubs, leeches, slime molds..."

Remal let her go on about it for a few minutes. Of course he didn't enjoy hanging around and helping Faver, but he was far more annoyed with the visitor. At the moment, though, he was even more annoyed with Brylin. he could never be around Faver for very long without it resulting in spending more time with Brylin as well. Which was a shame, because when Brylin wasn't around, Remal usually found Faver to be fairly tolerable company.

Mother stopped talking about the days when they used to go out gathering things, and said: "That's not really what's got you so annoyed, though, is it?"

Sullenly, Remal admitted, "No..."

"Are you mad at Brylin again?"

"No!"Remal reflexively denied exasperatedly. "Well, yes, but not just her!"

Remal stopped picking at the hat and twisted it in both hands. Then, untwisting it, he held it in the palm of one hand and punched it with his other. This he followed up with waving the hat around, gesticulating while he spoke.

"Brylin's the worst, but I'm tired of her and everyone else telling me what to do, as if I couldn't manage anything by myself! Do people think I'm a kid? People aren't always telling Brylin what to do! I'd like to see how she'd like it, if they did! She picks on me more than she does with other people. I bet Nina even gets bossed around less than me!"

Mother smiled a little at Remal's somewhat exaggerated (and very animated) portrayal of the situation, but seeing his expression as he ended with a huff and a frowning glare, she composed herself into a more serious look.

"I do believe that's what it feels like to you," she said, "but surely not everyone has been telling you what to do."

"Brylin, Faver, Rinna and the Leaders... they even have Aron passing on orders from them. Oh, and Faver's little apprentice has been-"

"What about Nina? Is she on this list?"

Remal knew what she was doing. She wanted to prove it wasn't absolutely everyone, trying to use a scholarly approach with logic in order to show he was exaggerating, to convince him it wasn't so bad. He wasn't in the mood for that, but still... he considered.

"Well, not Nina... not really... not like- It's only a matter of time, though, before Brylin starts influencing her like that. Brylin tells everybody to tell me what she thinks I should do!" he had gestured some more, accidentally dropping the hat. He picked it up off the rug under Mother's feet, then flashed her a look of abject misery before looking down at her feet dejectedly. It was how he really felt, but also he wanted her to be convinced that this was a serious problem for him, and not just something he imagined in a fit of paranoia.

Mother sighed, slowly. "Is this about-"

Remal looked up. "Mother, have you told Brylin that I ought to be finding a new fiancee already? Because Brylin talks as if she's speaking on your behalf when she's encouraging people to tell me to move on."

"Son, are you sure that she's doing that? Or are people who say that, just people who care about you and want you to be happy. They're probably remembering how happy you were before, when you were engaged. It's good to have people care about your happiness, and Brylin is one of them, whether you believe it or not."

Remal grumbled wordlessly, looking down again. He didn't want to say he thought she was wrong... or, well, not entirely. He also didn't want to say she was right about this, even if only partially. He wasn't even sure how much it was of either.

She went on. "You know I want you to be happy, right? But if you can't move on yet, people pushing you about it isn't going to make you happy, so I won't do that. If you did find someone new, though, that'd be nice, wouldn't it?"

"Ma, it's not that I'm not over her, it's just... there's so much else that I worry about, that I'm not ready to play that game again, win or lose."

"In any case, I didn't tell Brylin to bother you about it. I'll ask her to leave you alone on that subject. Okay?"

"Faver already did. I doubt she'll listen."

"I'll talk to her anyway. In the meantime, if you could try to appear a bit less mopey, then maybe everyone who cares about you might not worry about you so much, hm?"

Remal rolled his eyes and grumbled. He was hardly capable of acting like he was more happy than he really was.

"It probably wouldn't hurt for you to talk it over with Brylin." Mother added.

"Motheeeer." Remal whined.

"Oh, just don't worry so much about everyone else, and pay no mind to what Brylin says."

Before Remal could reply, Brylin ducked into the tent, obviously bringing Mother's dinner. "What I say about what?" she demanded.

Remal wondered whether she had been listening just outside. He shot her a glare, said "Never you mind!" and got up to leave.

"Now son, maybe-"

"I'll leave you two to talk." Remal said quickly, interrupting what he feared would be a suggestion from Mother, that now might be a good time for he and Brylin to talk. Looking pointedly at Brylin, he jammed the old hat onto his head, saying, "Faver must be expecting me back by now."

"He surely is." Brylin said while eying Remal. She moved aside to clear his way to the door, and started to set the food down on a little folding table for Mother.

Remal stepped out and stalked back to Faver's work tent, sincerely hoping that would be the end of that, but not daring to believe it. He really didn't want to talk about such things anymore; not with anyone.