Hari nodded. “Go. Her name is Marta.”
Moving to the space beside the old woman, Rielle watched as Marta produced a notched disk from the bottom of her basket of stitching materials. Cutting several strands of the coloured thread the Travellers used to embellish their clothing, Marta tied them together, pushed the knot through a hole in the middle of the disk and attached a weight to it. She demonstrated how to move the threads from notch to notch to weave them around each other, then handed the disk to Rielle.
Though she followed the woman’s instructions correctly, Rielle’s braid was loose and uneven at first, but as she worked she soon learned how tight to twist the threads, and by the end of the braid Marta was nodding approvingly. The woman removed the braid from the disk, chopped off the wobbly braiding at the start and tied the ends. She wrapped it around her own wrist, showing that it was still long enough to tie.
She probably made the threads a little longer, expecting me to mess it up at the beginning, Rielle mused. Looking at the braid around Sadeer’s wrist and then her own, Rielle saw that the young woman’s was thicker and the weave more elaborate. I have made the beginner’s version. Well, I am a beginner. A beginner at being a Traveller.
Not an absolute beginner, however. She had begun to grasp the language and learn their ways. It had been difficult at first, and still was at times, but it was slowly growing easier. The thought of starting all over in a new place, whether in her home world or not, seemed too great a challenge to face again. Surely she could not be lucky enough to find people as nice to settle among. Looking around, she noticed that Ankari had joined the group while she had been braiding. The woman smiled back at Rielle. Her eyes dropped to the braid and, though Rielle might have imagined it, her smile gained a knowing smugness.
“Yaikha’s family is here!” Hari exclaimed, rising to her knees to look over everyone’s head. Ankari leapt to her feet and hurried away. Hari followed.
As Jikari stood up, Rielle followed suit. The young woman beckoned and led Rielle out from under the canopy, back towards the edge of the plateau. Ankari and Hari stood there, watching another line of wagons trundling along the path from the arrival place.
“Baluka’s sister, Injiki, married Yaikha’s son, Hakhel, three cycles ago,” Jikari explained. “She’s had two children already, both boys.”
“Women always leave the family to join the husbands?” Rielle asked.
Jikari nodded. “Unless a leader has only daughters and no strong nephews.” She slowed as they neared Ankari and Hari, and glanced at Rielle. “Uouma, Yaikha’s wife, was an outsider too. You should talk to her.”
The lead wagon had descended below sight, but as Rielle stepped up to the edge of the plateau she caught sight of it again, following a path that would take it past the plateau and up to the crest of an empty hill. Two women had left the wagons and were walking toward Haki and Rielle, one younger and with the stature and colouring of a Traveller, the other older but with the darkest skin Rielle had ever seen. Both were carrying small children, one just an infant.
The women were breathless by the time they had climbed the steep slope, panting out greetings then exchanging fond hugs. Looking closely at Baluka’s sister, Rielle recognised a familiar shape of eye and nose. She hadn’t realised it until now, but Ankari had the kind of face that looked perpetually cheerful, and her daughter did, too. Happy eyes, she mused. And dimples that remain even when they’re not smiling. She had a sudden itch to draw them and compare.
Ankari said nothing of Baluka’s proposal as she introduced Rielle. “As for her story… Baluka found her, so he should do the telling,” she finished.
Injiki’s eyebrows rose. “Where is he?”
“With the leaders. Go save him.”
The young woman chuckled and headed towards another of the canopies. Ankari hooked an arm around Uouma’s and the pair started walking, Hari, Jikari and Rielle following. Looking ahead, Rielle noted that their destination appeared to be another canopy, near the centre of the plateau, under which many children were gathered. “How is Ulma?”
Uouma’s shoulders lifted and her reply was quiet and in an accent Rielle found difficult to decipher. The older pair talked quietly as they strolled across the plateau. As they reached the canopy Ankari stopped and Uouma continued on, calling out a greeting to the men and women within.
Ankari turned to Rielle. “Come with me,” she said. Looking at the other two women, she made a small gesture, and the pair did not follow as Ankari led Rielle back the way they’d come.
Looking at Ankari sideways, Rielle waited to see if this meant Baluka’s mother wanted a private chat with her. The woman’s expression was serious.