Chapter Twenty-five: Loose Ends

Hucha was everywhere. If Radovin had accepted a sip from every cup or bladder offered to him, he'd have lost his legs long before dawn. As it was, he nearly lost the wariness that kept him from doing so, but another set with the musicians spared him the temptation for a while. He couldn't drink and play the bones at the same time, and he was getting higher on the music anyway.

He saw Davoner and Tevina swaying together among the hard-core all night dancers. They waved to him with warm smiles. He felt as if his own smile was permanent, and he could go on forever. He did have to take another bush-break--one of the penalties of enjoying hucha.

Dew spangled every leaf, lit by a moon now floating over the western hills. Radovin strode through cool, still air charged with magic. What a wonderful night! It should last forever. But his arms, swinging heavy at his sides, told him they needed a break too. He went a good distance from the bonfire to stretch the time.

His glittering arc of piss cut off abruptly when angry shouts, a cry of pain, and the dull sound of fists striking flesh made him tense up. What in the flaming Underworld was going on over there? A boy's voice too. "Stop it! No! Stop it, curse you!" Vah, he knew that voice! He got his breechclout back in place and ran toward the ruckus, bounding wildly over rough ground.

Two obscure figures bent over something while a third struggled with someone smaller who flailed and cursed.

"Shugo! Hai! Let go'a him, you! Hai! what're you doing?" Radovin dug his heels into the earth in a jerky halt. He yanked at the arm of the man who was trying to hold off Shugonar's attack. A fist flying out of the night slammed Radovin's face, making him see stars that were not in the sky. He reeled back, stumbled, and fell. By the time he got his feet under him, the fight was over, the three aggressors gone.

Shugonar knelt by an inert mass on the ground, sobbing, "Hai, Berto, wake up. Hai, oh shit, Berto!"

"Shugo, what happened?" Radovin knelt beside the boy, trying to see how bad off Bertoluc was.

"Rado! Oh, Mamari! They beat on him 'cause--'cause--you can help him, ah? He's hurt bad, he won't wake up."

"Shugo, don't shake him. Let me see. Listen, you go get somebody to help carry him." Berto seemed unconscious, or maybe he just had the breath knocked out of him. He had been beat pretty bad. Radovin could smell blood as well as fear-sweat, and there were dark stains on the young man's face.

"He'll be all right. Go get somebody to help me move him."

"Who? I--Papa's drunk, what'm I gonna do?"

Radovin hesitated for one breath. "Find Lovaduc. He's easy to spot. Somebody White Horse, anyhow. Tell 'em I said to come." Shugonar gaped at him. "Go!" He gave the boy a shove. Shugonar took off running.

Vahé! No more dancing or drumming. If anybody deserved it, Berto was a fair choice; but Radovin had sworn to help anyone in need. He bent close to listen to the victim's breathing. Curse it, the fellow was either unconscious or too drunk to know the difference; he was going to choke on blood from his nose, lying on his back. He got a hand under shoulder and hip and heaved the body sideways. Bertoluc moaned. Good, a sign of life, anyway. So was the cough, followed by another strangled cry of pain.

Radovin ran his hands over Bertoluc. Yeah, a broken rib; probably nothing else but bad enough.

Bertoluc whimpered, "Aahh, lemme be, don't--" and tried to push Radovin's hand away.

"Hold still, Berto."

"Who--ohh. Help me. Ohh, it hurts."

"I'm trying to. Lie still. You've got busted ribs. I sent Shugo for help. What else hurts? Can you move your legs?"

Bertoluc's eyes widened as best they could, already puffing up with bruises. "Ra--No! Go 'way! He-e-elp!" His frantic cries brought on another coughing fit, followed by sobbing moans.

Radovin stared blankly for a moment, then it dawned on him. Berto was afraid of him. The battered young man was panicking to find himself helpless in the hands of one he had once bullied and thrown into the muckhole, who was now a respectable member of another band. It was a bad joke every way.

"Hai, I'm not going to hurt you, you dumb shit." Oh, to the Underworld with it. The defiling idiot could hurt himself worse struggling. He stood up and backed away, turning to look toward the glow of the bonfire. He thought he heard running feet. "Hallooo, over here!" He hoped it was Shugo coming back with help and not Berto's "friends" returning.

"Rado!"

Thank the Good Ones, Davoner's voice. He could see more than one bobbing silhouette. Shugonar came tearing ahead, skidded on dew-damp grass, crashed into him, and spun off to one side in a chaotic dance. Radovin managed to stay on his feet too. "Hai!"

"What goes here, ah?" the tallest shadow demanded--Lovaduc. "A fight, he said. You all right, Rado?"

"Bertoluc's been beat up bad. Gotta get him inside. Broken ribs he's got and I don't know what-all, he won't let me at him."

"Are you all right?" Davoner grabbed Radovin's shoulders.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I heard 'em fighting and ran over. Th'other ones took off."

"How bad is he? We could make a stretcher," Lovaduc said.

Davoner looked to Radovin as if for authorization. "It's not far to the Bull's tents. We can carry him, if it won't hurt something."

Radovin pressed his fingers to his temples. His head had a notion to ache. Vahé! He was sort of in charge. "Yeah. Just carry him. Careful, the ribs, don't bend him."

"All right. Get the legs, Davo." Lovaduc slid his hands beneath Bertoluc's shoulders and middle. Davoner took the bottom end. Together they lifted the feebly protesting casualty and headed at a slow walk toward the camps.

A fire burned inside one of the Bull band's tents, but not the one that was home to Shugonar's messed-up family. Radovin paused, hand raised, as an odd sensation struck him. Something watching.... Ayah-kayah. No time for funny feelings. He slapped vigorously at the rolled-up flap and called in the open door, "Hai, we need fire in the three-cows tent. Bertoluc's hurt."

A woman's tired voice replied, "Aiye, wait a bit, I'll be right with you."

The woman came out in a moment, carrying a torch. She preceded them into the other tent. The sloppily laid kindling in the hearth was reluctant to ignite, but Shugonar found a lamp and lit it from the torch to help light their way farther in.

"Which bed is his, Shugo?" Radovin followed the boy's lead and they quickly readied the rude pallet, piling whatever was handy at one end to keep Berto's head and torso raised. It was probably Shugo and Ernovan's bed too, but they'd have to shift, at least until he could get some half-cooked ideas figured out. The men laid Bertoluc down, and Radovin went back to the hearth. The woman looked at him oddly over the fire. She was the band's best midwife, thank the Good Ones for that; she'd have some medicines on hand and be able to help.

"Nisha, good be with you," he said. "I need willowbark and yarrow. D'you have any sleepwort handy?"

"Radovin? Sweet Mother, it's really you?"

"Yes. I need the herbs, please, amada. I'll take care of the fire." He supposed he did look a lot different, with the fancy vest and his new mark--and a swollen eye. He couldn't see sun or moon out of that side already.

"I'll get them." She gave him another incredulous glance and left.

Radovin fed the fire generously from the small woodpile next to the hearth and shoved cooking stones into it. He glanced toward the bedside huddle, now lit by another couple of lamps. Bertoluc was whining about dying. Shugonar was handling things very well. He was talking to his brother, trying to convince him that Radovin was not out to avenge past wrongs. Tempting thought. Radovin snorted and snapped a branch in half to feed the rising flames. Life is full of crazy surprises. He had certainly not expected to play healer for the Bull band this night.

He looked over his shoulder, not for the returning woman, but something looking for him. Pah. He dismissed the uneasy feeling as a relict of his dismal past.

"No, I have to find Tayrolin." Radovin dodged Lovaduc's attempt to head him of.

"No good arguing, Lovo," Davoner said, with amused resignation. "He's not going to leave off until he's done with it." Lovaduc replied with a surly grunt.

Radovin squinted one-eyed at the scattering of vague shapes around the remnant of the bonfire. There was no music but the birds' pre-dawn serenade and the whoops of fire-leapers making the most of what was left.

"Hai--anybody--where's Tayrolin?" The shout sent a stab of pain through his head.

"Hai, Rado."

He recognized Polodan's voice and halted, shoulders slumping. "Is Tayrolin here? I gotta tell him something."

"Mari's tits, what happened to you?"

The eye must be pretty good already, to show in this scanty light. "I ran into something. Where's Tayro? Bertoluc's hurt, and the stupid bastard won't let me touch him." He brushed aside the hair that kept falling over his good eye.

"Berto--oh, great." Polodan rolled his eyes. "I saw Tayro a coupla licks ago--I'll get him--or someone. Where is he?"

"Bull's camp, the three-cows tent," Lovaduc answered. "His brother's with him, and that woman, what's-her-name, Jaronisha. Thanks, Polo." He turned to Radovin. "Now you're coming home. Ott will skin me for a drum if anything happens to his favorite uncle. Hang onto him, Davo."

Radovin shrugged. Bertoluc's care was out of his hands. Lovaduc turned homeward. He followed, Davoner's arm comfortably around his shoulders.

"Vina will have tea waiting for headaches," Davoner said. "Always plenty of those on Summer morn. You don't know who hit you, ah?"

"Nah." He shook his head gingerly. "Couldn't see who in the dark. Somebody just flang his hand in my face, then they took off." He knew pretty well who had been there, if not whose fist had landed in his eye. It was Bertoluc's place to speak out, seeing as how the attack had not been fatal, and it was all Bull members. A more or less accidental black eye was nothing to make noise about.

Davoner sighed, obviously resigned to the futility of drawing information out of one of the Dedicated--no matter how close in the family. "All right. It's your call. That bunch needs a good straightening out, though."

"Tereken wants to do some straightening," Lovaduc said over his shoulder. "I think he has enough of the sensible ones behind him. I hope."

"He is going to be headman?" Radovin said.

"They haven't declared anything formally, but they don't have too many options, do they? Cordamal wants nothing to do with it. He cut his ties altogether and he wants to keep it that way."

Radovin wondered if Cordamal was going to get off completely free. The talk was that Ambelda might have to move in with him. That was the Lion band's misfortune.

"I'm going to meet with him later. After we all have a nap," Lovaduc added. "Tero, I mean; he wants my sage advice." He snorted in self-derision.

"It's lucky all around that Tero stuck with the band," Davoner observed. He glanced at Radovin again. "You think he's all right, ah?"

"Yeah, he's fair. Not like...." Radovin didn't think the hunt leaders had it in them to take over. He hoped for the band's sake that they would pick Tereken. The man was scrupulous, if nothing else; he should have been hunt leader; he had a right head, but he didn't have a greasy tongue.

Vah, his head hurt. He didn't feel like talking. Davoner's hand gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. They continued toward their own tents in silence.

Not all of the band was there and some were fast asleep. Tevina greeted Radovin in a flurry of motherly attention. He had to sit down with a cup of unpleasant-tasting but welcome tea. Before he'd taken two sips, she was holding a rabbit skin sopped in cold water over his bruised eye. He smiled and took it from her. It was too late to stop the swelling with a cold compress, but it felt good anyway. It felt good just to have someone care about it.

Sherilana pumped Lovaduc for information while the headman made faces over his own cup of tea.

"Let it be for now, Sheri. Rado's all right, nothing but a bruise. It's his call; he says he got hit by accident." He shook his head, then rubbed it. "I'll think after the tea soaks in."

Davoner claimed his feet ached more than his head, and declined the soothing tea. "Ott's busy?" he said, with a smile.

"Yes, he and Tiwa--oh, bless! I promised to get him up in time!" Tevina dashed out of the tent while Davoner laughed.

Radovin used the wet hide to wipe his face and neck after he finished his tea. He glanced quickly at the tent entrance. The sky was getting lighter fast.

"You're coming down to the pool with us, Rado?" Sherilana poked the hot coals together and raked ashes over them so the fire would keep a while. She tucked in a few tea stones.

"Yeah, I am." He wanted to be in the water at the sun's rising. It would give completeness to the night of the Festival. He needed that, and a cold dip would get the cobwebs out of his head and the sticky sweat off his hide. Good thing he'd taken sips of hucha and not gulps. How much of his headache was hangover and how much from getting whacked upside the head, he wasn't sure. Another time, maybe, he'd get properly drunk and see if he could tell the difference. Another thing he could do now, if he wanted to. His breathy chuckle prompted Davoner to ask what the joke was.

"Everything," Radovin replied, with a crooked smile.

Davoner laughed softly. "Rado...."

"What, ah?"

"Nothing. Or everything. Come on. If you're bound to freeze your ass off in cold water at dawn, I'm in it with you." He got up and grabbed up a couple of the clean hides Sherilana had set out ready for everyone. They shucked all but their breechclouts and went out together. Tevina caught up with them outside, followed by Ottavar and Kewarratiwa.

Ottavar's hackles rose when he saw Radovin's eye. "What in the bloody Underworld happened?"

"'S nothing."

"Nothing? Listen, if somebody is--"

"Let be, ah? It's not my-- I'll tell you what I can. Later. Vah!" Radovin grimaced at the stab of pain his head gave him for his snappish reply. He deserved the punishment, he could hardly believe he had done that. "I'm sorry."

Ottavar looked shocked for a moment; then, after a series of rather comical facial changes, as contrite as Radovin felt. "Ah. I'm sorry too." He rubbed his tousled hair and blinked, then snorted a short laugh. "Yeah, um, let's go. I think we both need a good splash."

Kewarratiwa shook her head, smiling at both of them.

Not everyone welcomed the dawn by taking a full bath, but there were quite a few at the pool, men, women, and children. Some had waded in, others waited at the edge. This pre-dawn moment was a time for personal reflection. Low murmurs of greeting mingled with splashing and birdsong as more people waded in. The ripples stilled. Then the first golden ray of sun shot across the sky.

From the bonfire site, a long blast of the horn and the thunderous boom of several large drums struck as one echoed over the land. Human voices responded in cries of exultation. Radovin let loose with the rest--"Ayayayai-aieee!" Those who stood at the pool's edge leaped or dove in with a mighty splash. Everyone dunked themselves and scooped handfuls of water to splatter their neighbors. Girls and small children shrieked and laughed. The day had begun, first day of the waning half of the year that was yet the richest, most fruitful time.

Most of the bathers wallowed about in the pool for a good rinse before leaving the water. Conversations started, gained momentum slowly, and drifted away as people headed for their tents to warm up with tea or broth and discuss their plans for the day--or just go to bed for a while.

Jerevan pranced on the bank clutching the woolly hide of a bison calf around him, shivering but very wide awake. What skin he left exposed was covered with goosebumps. He got his first good look at Radovin's face.

"Rado, what happened to you?"

"Ran into something." Radovin tried to soften his curt reply with a smile that didn't work very well. He was shivering too, and his head hadn't given up aching yet. "G'mornin', Jer." He grabbed up a fur to cover himself.

"Ah." Jerevan shrugged. "Let's get back to the tent."

They hastened away a few paces ahead of the rest of the White Horse group. Radovin tossed a handful of dry grass onto the embers as soon as he got to the hearth. He pushed it down with a twig and blew, then dropped the twig on and added more thin bits to the reviving flames. The heat felt good.

Jerevan crouched next to him, hands spread to the warmth. "You stayed awake, ah? I ate too much, I guess. Don't even remember why I came back here. Laid down and stayed down. I wanted to stay up, but I guess I did enough."

The way he grinned meant he had more to tell. Radovin took the cue. "Had a good time?"

"Uh-huh. I...went with an omaruna."

"Ayah! You will have to let your hair grow."

"I didn't do much. I haven't told anybody else yet."

Radovin nodded. He nibbled his lip for a moment, picking over his thoughts before he spoke again. "I have something to tell you. Shugonar is Havo's friend and yours, ah? His brother got beat up real bad. I--um, that's what I ran into. Three of 'em were at him."

Jerevan's eyes went wide. "Vah! Did they beat on you too?"

"Nah. One of'm swung wild and clobbered me, then they ran off. Figured they were in trouble, I s'pose." Fighting during a festival was a serious breach of social custom. Differences were supposed to be settled by arbitration, or in the worst case, supervised combat.

"Well, they are." Jerevan frowned hard. "You know who they are, ah?"

"Yeah, but...I can't say."

"Why not? They oughtta be--"

"Shh! Listen, ah? I don't know all of it, and it's Berto's--" he cut off sharply as Ottavar hunkered by the fire. "It's Berto's story to tell, see?" he finished, with an apologetic look at Ottavar, who smiled.

Kewarratiwa whispered something to Ottavar, who murmured back, "He can't rattle it because it's the other fellow's business, and it involves another band," adding a few words in the clackety speech of her people. She nodded, and gave Radovin an approving look.

Lovaduc pulled up a cushion to sit on and drew a large bison skin over himself, covering all but his face. "I need to talk to you, Rado."

Radovin pulled his own wrap tighter.

"You do know who they were? No, I'm not asking you to tell me. I can guess well enough if I need to. But did they know it was you who caught 'em at it?"

"I don't know. It was dark, they took off fast."

"But you don't know for sure, ah?"

"No."

Lovaduc sighed. "They will anyway, if they don't already. It's no secret you helped bring him home. I wouldn't put it past that gang to have some stupid notion to get back at you just because you broke up their little party."

Vahé! He hadn't thought of that, only that Shugo might be in harm's way.

"This is what I'm asking you then--or telling you. Don't go anywhere alone, all right? I mean anywhere out of sight of our camp. Until this gets settled out. There isn't much can be done about it until the Bulls pick a new headman. You understand, ah? That shit they used to follow could be hanging around somewhere too."

"Yeah. I'll stay close." Radovin didn't want to stir up any trouble. Now that he had a home, he liked the idea of hanging around anyway. Shugonar, though.... "What if they go after Berto again, or take it out on Shugo because they can't get me?" He looked up, lower lip in his teeth. Going to have to rush that now.

"What about Shugo?" Havener demanded. He deposited an armload of wood and squeezed between Radovin and Jerevan. Radovin explained the situation tersely.

"Somebody oughtta warn him," Jerevan said, starting to rise. Havener looked ready to follow him.

"Nah, hold on, Jero." Radovin thrust a hand out to grab Jerevan's arm but only yanked his covering half off. It stopped him, anyway. "I told him to stay put, he's all right for now. Tayrolin is with them. They wouldn't try anything with everybody else around."

"Oh." Jerevan hunched down, embarrassed, pulling the hide close to his face.

Radovin drew his arm back into his own warm wrap. He mused a while, gazing into the fire. "I need to talk to Hacaben," he said at last. Ottavar gave him a quizzical look. "About Shugo. If he wants an apprentice, ah?"

"Shugo?" Jerevan and Havener exclaimed together.

"He'd be good," Radovin insisted, against their incredulous looks. "Anyway, he'd be safer." He watched a smile spread over Ottavar's face.

Lovaduc raised his eyebrows and looked alternately at his band's shamans. He chuckled and reached past Radovin to give Havener's ear a tweak. The boys grinned at him.

"Shut up, you birdshit dung-eater." Vashoner's voice rose enough that everyone in the tent heard. The two younger men with whom he had been arguing in whispers trailed out after him with sullen expressions. Two women gave them disapproving looks and let them get well clear of the tent before following them out into the predawn twilight. Another, with an unhappy look, towed her children along behind them. An older woman paused, looking back.

Ambelda stared into the hearth. She rubbed at her arm, as if still trying to wipe off blood that had spattered it days ago.

"Belda?"

"What?" she snapped, turning her head abruptly. The woman frowned at her. She looked disdainfully away, back at the flickering embers.

"It's time to go out to greet the sun."

"To the Underworld with the mother-defiling sun," Ambelda muttered under her breath.

"What, ah?"

"I said I'm staying here," she said, loud enough to be heard.

Enari shook her head, pulled a fox-skin cape about her shoulders, and exited alone. She paused at the three-cows tent, slapping the closed flap. Jaronisha came out, and they walked away from the tents toward the lightening east. Tayrolin emerged a moment later and proceeded in the same direction.

Ambelda sat for a short time like a breathing statue. She moved once, reaching inside her tunic to touch something that hung from a long thong around her neck. Then she rose and walked outside. She went to the three-cows tent and entered without slapping. The boy looked up.

"Good morning, Ambelda-mada"

"What's good about it?"

Shugonar shrugged. He turned back to his brother, who still slept. Their father was sleeping off his hangover a short distance away in imperturbable oblivion. A blow to the back of his head made him look around, one arm held up defensively.

"Don't turn your back on me, boy. I am headwoman of this band, and you'd better mind that."

He mumbled something negative. Ambelda leaned down and grabbed him by the ear, giving it a painful twist. "You want your brother to live, ah?"

"Yes," Shugonar yelped.

"Then you had better answer my questions nicely." Ambelda showed her yellowish teeth in a grin.