arms and making clutching
hug-me motions with her fingers. “Hello, young man!”
Before he stood, he let
her squeeze him. The top of his head was about six inches from the ceiling.
“Hello there, Tikka.” He was hard put to do anything but smile at her. A
soft-looking, cream-and-brown Ishling clung to her back, with its skinny tail
sticking out of a nappy. “That a grand, or a great-grand?”
“No great-grands yet,
more’s the pity. This is my newest granddaughter, Hilo. Of course you know my
daughters, and their daughters…” She indicated the circle of Ish women and
girls waiting to eat. They sat cross-legged on bright rugs woven with Ishian
religious symbols: Salmon for plenty, Orca for war, and wise old Death, who
wore the Raven’s face. There were even a couple of rugs woven with images of
Otter, the trickster god. In the center of the circle, several cedar planks
laden with baked salmon and skewers of vegetables threw off delicious-smelling
steam.
“I know most of them. Is
this your little girl, Neen?”
The youngest of Tikka’s
daughters hooked a hand over her nose, looking down in delighted embarrassment.
“Yes, she is.”
“Cute,” Vandis said.
“Congratulations.”
Kessa poked her curly
head through the trapdoor, and he introduced her. Tikka’s family fussed over
her bright hair, pretty eyes, and impressive height. She couldn’t straighten
completely under the low ceiling, and ended up hunchbacking over to a seat in
the circle of Ish, on a rug woven in a pattern of Otter symbols. After another
few moments, Dingus’s hood and thin arms came up through the hole. He shut his
eyes, and Vandis watched his ribs expand as he rose, pulling a deep draught of
the steamy, food-scented air through his nose. A broad, approving grin broke
out across the homely kid face.
“This is Sir Dingus, my
Junior.” No matter how many times he introduced Dingus that way, his heart felt
like it would pop, he was so proud.
“That leaf is brand-new
like springtime, isn’t it?” Tikka said, accosting Dingus before he’d even
pulled his legs in. “Congratulations, Sir Dingus.”
“Thank you, ma’am,”
Dingus said, blushing.
“This is Hilo,” she
added, pointing her thumb back at the baby.
Dingus offered a finger.
“Hi, sweetie,” he said, and in a flash she’d bounded from his forearm to his
shoulder, pulled his hood down, and settled on his head. Tiny, quick fingers
picked through his blazing hair.
“Eee, hi, hi, hee, hee,
hi!” she cheeped. Neen bounced up and rushed over, scolding in Ishian, to
rescue Dingus, who’d started laughing along with everyone else.
“So sorry about that. She’s
very friendly,” Neen trilled, reaching for Hilo, who was the size of a barn
kitten, if the kitten weren’t particularly large.
“She can stay.” Dingus
grinned. “I don’t mind.”
The Ish woman beamed at
him. “Well, if she gets to be trouble for you, just shout for Neen!”
“This is everyone, isn’t
it, Vandis?” Tikka asked, and when Vandis nodded, she clapped her hands and
said, “Let’s sit down and eat!”
Vandis took a Salmon rug
and Dingus pulled up the trapdoor before he scooted across the floor to an
Orca; his hair looked a lot neater than usual, bar the Ishling still busy on
the crown of his head. Tikka took a red rug with Raven symbols and served out
the food: roast salmon with rosemary, green and yellow summer squashes, little,
charred tomatoes that popped hotly in the mouth, and chunks of the big white
radish the Ish called spoo : burnt on the outside, spicy-sweet on the
inside.
“Now that you have a
Junior and a Squire,” Tikka told Vandis, tipping a wink, “I think you’re ready
for some children of your own! You’re not getting any younger. It’s high time
you let some lucky woman make an honest man of you. Are you seeing anyone?” A
chorus of female voices followed, demanding to know, and heat crept up Vandis’s
neck.
“No, I’m not.”
“Well, do you know who
hug-me motions with her fingers. “Hello, young man!”
Before he stood, he let
her squeeze him. The top of his head was about six inches from the ceiling.
“Hello there, Tikka.” He was hard put to do anything but smile at her. A
soft-looking, cream-and-brown Ishling clung to her back, with its skinny tail
sticking out of a nappy. “That a grand, or a great-grand?”
“No great-grands yet,
more’s the pity. This is my newest granddaughter, Hilo. Of course you know my
daughters, and their daughters…” She indicated the circle of Ish women and
girls waiting to eat. They sat cross-legged on bright rugs woven with Ishian
religious symbols: Salmon for plenty, Orca for war, and wise old Death, who
wore the Raven’s face. There were even a couple of rugs woven with images of
Otter, the trickster god. In the center of the circle, several cedar planks
laden with baked salmon and skewers of vegetables threw off delicious-smelling
steam.
“I know most of them. Is
this your little girl, Neen?”
The youngest of Tikka’s
daughters hooked a hand over her nose, looking down in delighted embarrassment.
“Yes, she is.”
“Cute,” Vandis said.
“Congratulations.”
Kessa poked her curly
head through the trapdoor, and he introduced her. Tikka’s family fussed over
her bright hair, pretty eyes, and impressive height. She couldn’t straighten
completely under the low ceiling, and ended up hunchbacking over to a seat in
the circle of Ish, on a rug woven in a pattern of Otter symbols. After another
few moments, Dingus’s hood and thin arms came up through the hole. He shut his
eyes, and Vandis watched his ribs expand as he rose, pulling a deep draught of
the steamy, food-scented air through his nose. A broad, approving grin broke
out across the homely kid face.
“This is Sir Dingus, my
Junior.” No matter how many times he introduced Dingus that way, his heart felt
like it would pop, he was so proud.
“That leaf is brand-new
like springtime, isn’t it?” Tikka said, accosting Dingus before he’d even
pulled his legs in. “Congratulations, Sir Dingus.”
“Thank you, ma’am,”
Dingus said, blushing.
“This is Hilo,” she
added, pointing her thumb back at the baby.
Dingus offered a finger.
“Hi, sweetie,” he said, and in a flash she’d bounded from his forearm to his
shoulder, pulled his hood down, and settled on his head. Tiny, quick fingers
picked through his blazing hair.
“Eee, hi, hi, hee, hee,
hi!” she cheeped. Neen bounced up and rushed over, scolding in Ishian, to
rescue Dingus, who’d started laughing along with everyone else.
“So sorry about that. She’s
very friendly,” Neen trilled, reaching for Hilo, who was the size of a barn
kitten, if the kitten weren’t particularly large.
“She can stay.” Dingus
grinned. “I don’t mind.”
The Ish woman beamed at
him. “Well, if she gets to be trouble for you, just shout for Neen!”
“This is everyone, isn’t
it, Vandis?” Tikka asked, and when Vandis nodded, she clapped her hands and
said, “Let’s sit down and eat!”
Vandis took a Salmon rug
and Dingus pulled up the trapdoor before he scooted across the floor to an
Orca; his hair looked a lot neater than usual, bar the Ishling still busy on
the crown of his head. Tikka took a red rug with Raven symbols and served out
the food: roast salmon with rosemary, green and yellow summer squashes, little,
charred tomatoes that popped hotly in the mouth, and chunks of the big white
radish the Ish called spoo : burnt on the outside, spicy-sweet on the
inside.
“Now that you have a
Junior and a Squire,” Tikka told Vandis, tipping a wink, “I think you’re ready
for some children of your own! You’re not getting any younger. It’s high time
you let some lucky woman make an honest man of you. Are you seeing anyone?” A
chorus of female voices followed, demanding to know, and heat crept up Vandis’s
neck.
“No, I’m not.”
“Well, do you know who
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