Garinor waited on the hilltop and decided to see what would happen in the camp before venturing down there. The sun beat on the back of his neck but he ignored the discomfort as best he could.
Not much happened amidst the preparations taking place down below. Garinor was amazed with how many bandages and supplies were being readied. It looked like they would be able to tend the wounds of everyone in the countryside if need be. He couldn’t imagine how many people were going to return from the battle.
The healers were not only working on bandages and splints, he noticed as time wore on. They were also preparing cooking fires and settling large cauldrons onto them. Water was gathered from the nearby stream—the one Garinor himself had taken water from earlier—and poured into the cauldrons. He kept looking around to make sure no one was coming from behind him.
Into the cauldrons went a large number of things. From this distance, it looked like a strange assortment of flowers and grass, though he realized they must be certain herbs and spices. The water was made to boil while the contents were stirred once in a while.
An hour or so later, Garinor was dozing, for there wasn’t much else going on below. He jolted awake from his complacency when deep laughter echoed up from behind him. He turned but couldn’t yet see the heads of those who approached. They must still be down below the next hill. Garinor scrambled to his feet and hurried down the western slope and from there sought shelter amidst some brush.
Two hunters came loping over the hill, talking noisily all the while. They were in good spirits, toting between them a deer they had caught. “This’ll get us thanks,” laughed one of them.
“Nah, it’ll get me thanks. It was my arrow that shot it down.”
“Maybe,” the other chuckled, “but I’d like to have seen you carting this oversized beast all the way.”
“True, true. You can be honored as my pack horse then.” Both laughed at that.
They walked over one hilltop and down the next, weaving around and working their way down into the camp. Garinor could hear cheers of excitement upon seeing the catch and then the chaos of preparing the deer for a meal. There was a bit of a ruckus among the few people in the camp, but when Garinor peeked over the ridge to spy on them, he saw they were good-natured in their arguments, divvying up the deer into several different stew pots and leaving some of the choicer meat out for searing on the fire directly.
Not long later the sun was sinking down in the sky and a low note echoed through the air. It sounded like a signal of some sort, and sure enough, the entire camp went into another frenzy. Having completed their preparations well ahead of time, there wasn’t much for them to do except move things from one pile to another or to wipe off already-clean bowls.
Soon after, the soldiers from the battle came toward the camp, some in good health and some injured. Garinor decided it was time to get moving.