"You should wear this," he advises me, holding up the shield. "In case someone attacks you, the way they did the last great warrior queen of Black Moon Draw."
I start to decline then review my experience in this place so far. "I think that's a great idea," I tell him.
He motions for me to sit and moves behind me the best he can. "Arms up," he says cheerfully.
I raise them. He drapes straps over me that make an X at my solar plexus. He adjusts the light shield and then pulls the straps tight to hold it in place at my back.
"Like a Ninja Turtle," I say, stretching back to tap it. It feels like it's got a wooden core, covered by leather.
The boy gives another half-hearted nod, a sign he has no idea what I'm talking about. "Are you ready for battle?" he asks hopefully.
"About this battle thing. I don't really do war," I tell him. "I'm more of a peace-witch."
"Peace?"
"You know, the opposite of war. What happens when there's no war, when people decide they're done fighting."
"Ah. Submission. Our enemies do this."
I'm not sure how to respond. In what kind of place do peace and submission mean the same thing?
"You make men submit," he says, starting to smile again. "This is very good, too."
"We're not really talking on the same level, are we?"
"Come. I will show you men who need peace."
I didn't have a headache when I woke, but I'm about to get one now. Nonetheless, I follow him out of the tree house.
At first glance, I don't notice the thousands of hiding spots, until someone emerges from the trunk of a tree. With a second look around, I see them.
There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of trunks acting as miniature homes, each marked by a chalky X above the opening acting as an entrance. Lanterns and small fires glow from inside the wide trunks, some of which also contain saddles, blankets, clothing, and wooden boxes.
The encampment is empty. It's midmorning. At least, it is until LF forgets what time of day she set this scene in. I'm hoping this chapter is more consistent. I hate reading books where things don't make sense. Living it is even worse.
"Any minute now, LF. You can send me home," I whisper.
"Come!" the boy cries from a trail wide enough for a wagon.
"Okey dokey." I marvel at the tree houses where the army lives. I always envied the Ewoks on Star Wars because they lived in the trees. When I get home, I'm going to look into how to have a tree house like the ones here built.