A roped-off enclosure not far away held the ready-use horses, and herds of horses, red-coated cattle and off-white sheep dotted the landscape. Outside the circle of living-tents was a vehicle park, wagons of every size and shape and description, from ones that wouldn't have looked out of place on the Oregon Trail to cut-down pickup trucks and converted mobile homes.
Red Leaf waved, then came over as they walked down to the water. "Men bathe here," he said. "Women over there, and stock water below that."
Rudi nodded; Mackenzies didn't have much of a nudity taboo in their communal bathhouses, but other folk were more prudish, he knew. There were a good three or four hundred in the crowd who dove into the water and splashed around with much horseplay, from boys just a little too old to join the women down to the few elders; his mind automatically noted that well over half were fit to bear arms, and looked as if they could, too. A lot of them had brought their weapons to the riverbank, within easy grabbing range, even though it was obvious nobody expected real trouble.
He swam in the cold water, scrubbed with soap and sand, cautiously around the sore spots, shaved with his straight razor, and headed back for the tent.
Should I try growing a beard again? No, still too patchy.
The warm dry air had the last of the water off his skin by the time he'd gotten back…
And I'm a little reluctant to put the old clothes back on. Well, we'll have time to wash them There was the first surprise; their clothes had been taken away to be cleaned and repaired, and new outfits set out for all of them-his consisted of buckskin trousers with buffalo-hair fringes down the seams flanked by colorful quillwork, and a linsey-woolsey tunic bleached creamy white with bands of beads in geometric patterns along the sleeves and in a triangle at the neck.
Mathilda and his sisters and Virginia Kane came back from the women's section of the river; they'd been decked out in dresses that had capelike upper sections, with rows of shells across the yokes, flowers and birds along the hems, belts with hammered silver conchos, and moccasins done with a buffalo-hoof design; some of Red Leaf's female relatives sat with them, dressing their hair in local style. Others headed for Rudi and the others with combs in their hands and determination in their eyes; Odard's bowl crop, Father Ignatius' neat tonsure and Fred Thurston's short cap of wiry fuzz defeated them, but Rudi and Ingolf and Edain soon had twin braids fur-wrapped, albeit rather shorter than the local fashion.
Rudi's had two long raven feathers tucked in. "Sure, and the Raven is the bird of my sept," he said.
The girl doing his hair nodded. "And she's the bird of the battle-fields. These are for the two coups you counted yesterday. And this"-she added an eagle feather-"is for saving my brother's life."
He stood to buckle his sword belt, and the girl-she was about fourteen-glanced up at him with an unconscious sigh, clasping her hands together. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Mathilda looking at him with a pawky raised eyebrow. She mouthed peacock at him, and he replied with a silent you're another!
"My, my, don't you all look fine," Red Leaf said, when the work was done.
He poked a finger at Rudi: "You know, you're a dead ringer for a guy on the cover of one of those Sweet Savage Romance books I saw before the Change. There was this Swedish… woman… who used to haunt the powwows, she read 'em by the cartload; thought she was the reincarnation of an Indian Princess. We called her Princess Yumping Yimminy-"
Rick Three Bears grunted; probably because the massive bruise along his flank and the left side of his face made talking painful. He rolled his eyes and made the effort anyway:
"Dad, nobody's interested in what happened before the Change-at least, not right before. Let's go eat. Mom got up before dawn to start breakfast and she'll have a cow if anything spoils."
The visitors kept their faces polite, as was fitting for guests; Rudi suspected it was with a bit of effort.
Because each of us has thought exactly the same thing about our own oldsters, haven't we now?
From the wry smile, Red Leaf knew what they were thinking; he led the way to his own extended family's quarters, located in the place of honor near the hocoka 's entrance. His household had a set of five of the round platform-tents, with the sides rolled up to the roofline for better ventilation on the fine early-summer morning. The itancan introduced his wife, Sungila Win-a matronly lady a little younger than he, presumably named Fox Woman for her hair, with pleasant green eyes-and their four children, from one barely walking, stumping around in a moss-stuffed hide diaper, to Rick Three Bears' early twenties; his wife, his two children, his widowed sister and her three children and their spouses and infants, four young cousins and a brace of servant girls (who ate with the rest), and a couple of guests.
Evidently an itancan -chief was expected to keep open house.
Fair reminds me of home and the Hall, it does, Rudi thought, accepting a plate from Three Bears' mother. What does Aunt Judy call it? A mispocha?
"Sure, and it's a delight this hospitality is," he said, as they settled cross-legged around a low folding table that made a complete circle of the biggest tent. "I thank you for the trouble."
"You saved my boy Rick," Fox Woman said flatly.
Rudi blushed a little, made the Invocation, and applied himself to the food. The women had been busy with three portable stoves, and not in vain; there was frybread, lamb sausages redolent of garlic and sage, grilled walleye fillets fresh from the river, done with butter and pecans and steaming white and flaky on the fork, and plates of buffalo-hump hash and scrambled eggs savory with herbs and wild onion. While they ate, and drank the chicory and rose-hip tea and talked, Rudi leaned closer to Ingolf.
"You seem a little reserved, my friend," he said.
Everyone else is happy as crickets; Nobody's trying to kill us, for starters, which is a pleasant change from yesterday and too many days this past year. Edain saved two lives with a close shot, which is something he needed to do… but you are a bit grim.
Ingolf chuckled. "Yah. Thing is, back when I was your age or a bit younger I spent years when the worst nightmare I had started with waking up in a Sioux camp. I nearly crapped myself this morning for a second, before I remembered the circumstances."
Rudi's brows went up. "Well, I suppose these folk can be bad enemies. Though they think there's nothing too good for a friend, I'd say, from how they've treated us, the which makes me think well of them."
"Yah… you know how the Anishinabe called the Sioux the rattlesnakes?"
"I'm not likely to forget," he said, wincing a little with remembered embarrassment. "I should have noticed you were signaling me to shut up…"
"Well, that's not the only name the neighbors had for them."
"Oh, so?"
"Yah. The torturers was a favorite too."
"Ingolf!"
He looked up as Mary called. "Come on, let's have a walk. The girls say there's going to be some all-female do later."
The party broke up. Three Bears and some other younger men captured Edain and demanded that he show them his longbow in operation, with Odard and Frederick in tow and Virginia following, elaborately casual. A collection of grave older men and women took Father Ignatius away to spend the day administering sacraments; there were evidently a fair number of Catholic Christians in the hocoka, but a shortage of clergy.
Red Leaf looked a little surprised when Mathilda automatically joined him and Rudi.
I don't think women are much put upon here, Rudi thought. Certainly his host's wife and daughters hadn't been shy about offering opinions-they'd been strongly in favor of the men hunting down and killing all the lions, for instance. But I get the impression war and politics are men's business, at least formally.
"Ah…" Rudi said. "We didn't have time for formal introductions beyond the basics. This is Princess Mathilda Arminger, heir to the throne of the Portland Protective Association. Which is-"