He remembered things his mother and his stepfather Nigel Loring had said, and amended it to: ?More or less the style of some of our ancestors.? ?Absurd barbarian fashion,? Odard put in as he donned his parti-colored court-style Portlander hose.

That required perching on a stool and gathering it up to the toe and considerable care and effort; Juniper Mackenzie had once told him that the effect had a strong resemblance to what she?d known as panty hose, but with even fine bias-cut linen a lot less stretchy and convenient than nylon. The carefully preserved jupon and tunic came out to follow, donned with foppish care.

As the baron of Gervais added a ring and admired the effect on one hand Rudi reflected that Odard really enjoyed dressing up in what Associates insisted on calling garb, no matter how uncomfortable, so long as it was rich and sightly. Not being able to do so every day was a real hardship to him, albeit one he bore without too much complaint.

Mathilda was probably putting on her set of the same; she?d left the cotte-hardi in Iowa, observing that once past Wisconsin most of the people they?d be meeting would be either Cutters or cannibals, unable to appreciate a lady?s formal dress and all too likely to put her in situations where skirts would be a handicap. ?But I?d guess she?s not putting it on just yet,? Rudi said aloud. ?Have you ever observed, my friends, that a woman may have no more surface area than a man-? ?Distributed differently,? Fred Thurston said; he was donning something very close to the green dress uniform of the old American army, with a dark beret on his short wiry hair.?Different in a good way.? ?Granted, by the Foam-Born! But the same area of skin, do you see? Yet why cannot she wash in the amount of time a man finds ample, unless the water is freezing, or has things with fangs in it, so?? ?Or put on a kilt as fast as we do,? Edain observed, tucking the little sgian dubh, the black knife, into its sheath in his sock-hose. ?It?s a mystery of the Mother-of-All, that it is.? ?Christ, this still fits,? Ingolf said, donning his own clothing.

It was a set of blue linen pants with copper rivets, a light roll-necked sweater and a denim jacket dyed with wild indigo. He?d left it all behind when he rode off to the Sioux War, and it had been carefully preserved by his sister-in-law. More of the fittings were pre-Change salvage than his relatives wore now.

Then he worked his shoulders.?Well… the jacket?s a bit tight here. I hadn?t quite gotten my full growth then. It?ll do, though. I?ve got enough range of arm for getting the beer to mouth-height!?

A soprano voice came from the other side of the door, a mutter of Sindarin and then: ?Aren?t you people ready yet? I?m starving!? ?Harry, I got you those sixty-four acres because you?re my sister?s cousin-in-law. People understand that. Now it?s up to you to make what you can of it before you start asking for more favors. People will understand that, too.?

Rudi halted, and the others did perforce behind him; the half-closed door leading to the vestibule let the conversation through only because one side of it was being conducted at the level of a bad-tempered bellow on Edward Vogeler?s part. There was a murmur from the other man… ?No, I?m not going to give you anymore County land,? Edward Vogeler said.? Or more woodlot rights or fishing quotas.?

Another murmur, and:?Because you can?t work more than a tenth-section by yourself!? the Sheriff went on.?It?ll take you years to get that much going, the way it?s grown up in scrub.?

Another murmur, and the reply was even louder: ?No! This isn?t goddamned Iowa, or Marshall, or even Ellsworth-I?m not going to tell someone they have to work for you just because their folks were refugees. Pay someone if you can, though with what God only knows. Hell, you borrowed all the equipment you?ve got-mostly from me! Und only one of your kids is old enough yet to do much fieldwork-Mary Mother alone knows how Janet?s going to make do there on her own without a grown woman to help. Now buckle to und get dat land cleared and be happy I?m letting you off the land tax for four years! If you had any sense, you?d stay and work with your father-in-law and do it bit by bit.?

Edward Vogeler was still scowling when Rudi coughed diplomatically and came through the entranceway, but his face relaxed. ?Sorry. Business. Right this way, gentlemen, ladies,? he said. ?Let?s get you all a brew. Unless you?d like wine? We keep some for company.? ?Ah… no, your beer is of a surpassing excellence, Sheriff,? Rudi said.?I?ll stick with that.?

That has the merit of being true; and it means I need not say that I haven?t had a decent glass of wine since we crossed the Rockies, he thought, as everyone else murmured agreement. Most of them taste as if a fox had peed in the vat with the grapes. ?Beer we got. Also cider, applejack, cherry brandy, peach brandy, whiskey, and vodka.?

The cavernous banquet hall had a floor of polished concrete, and the ceiling above was a simple V of steel rafters and corrugated metal sheets supported by iron pillars, all obviously built before the Change. Their host escorted them through into the great room and jerked his thumb at the row of barrels resting along one wall on X-shaped stands of fragrant pine boards. ?Help yourselves. Gotta run, get some things done first. Mark will show you?round.?

The mugs were old cast glass this time, and sitting in beds of crushed ice. Rudi decided on a lighter wheat beer, instead of the dark bock he?d had when Wanda greeted them. There were half a dozen types.

And each better than the last, he thought respectfully after his first sip. ?Ice at the end of summer!? Mathilda said, impressed.?We had that at the Palace of course, but-?

Mark Vogeler looked at her oddly, and Rudi didn?t think it was just for the Lidless Eye in the heraldic shield on her chest. ?Doesn?t it freeze out west in… in Montival?? he said. ?Several times a year. And we get snow, even down in the valleys sometimes,? she said. ?For variety in the endless winter rainfall,? Odard said whimsically.?I understand that at least the sun comes out here between October and May. Sometimes. We call that period the Black Months, back home.? ?You mean… the snow doesn?t stay all winter where you come from??

Ingolf chuckled.?Mark?s looking at you funny for a reason, Matti. Believe me, getting enough ice laid down to last out the summer is not a problem here. Wait until you?ve seen one of our winters.? ?We?ve been known to have some cold weather in the Powder River country,? Virginia Kane said, prickly about her homeland on the High Plains. ?Idaho too,? Fred Thurston added.?Granted Boise?s not as bad as the up-country, or Wyoming.?

Ingolf made a gesture that was half acknowledgment, half disagreement. ?You don?t get blizzards like ours. It?s a lot wetter here than most places out west that aren?t on a mountainside, and it?s just as damned cold as it gets in Wyoming, Virginia. Blizzards here can bury a barn, and they could start any time now, too; Indian Summer?s unpredictable.?

He drew them both a mug, expertly tapering off the tail of foam, and looked around the hall. ?Ah, bratwash and all the fixings!? he said, with Mary smiling and looping her arm around his waist and enjoying his pleasure.?Damn, this takes me back. I remember the first time we could afford it, when I was about ten. Dad had a big party like this, to celebrate us finally really getting on our feet.?

Folk were setting out trestle tables and benches, hauling bright lanterns up to the cross-girders, and wheeling in great wicker bins woven of split oak and full of fragrant warm loaves. The center space held four large hearths made from metal barrels cut lengthwise and full of glowing hardwood coals topped by mesh grills, beneath a broad dismountable smoke hood and metal pipe chimney. Right now big shallow pans were simmering there, with an intense smell of onions and… ?Beer?? Father Ignatius said with interest.?Some sort of marinade??