The Hag dressed Khaidu in wide linen pantaloons of a deep green color and a colorless overshirt that she kept in place with a worn leather vest. Strangely enough, it all fit perfectly. But the look of it was strange to Khaidu, for she had always dressed in the flowing dresses and long wool overdresses of the Gumiren.
And yet the strangest moment—and for Khaidu the most awkward—was yet to come. The Hag, having told her to sit still on a stool in the main hut, began to plait Khaidu’s hair. No one had ever plaited her hair before, not even Mamai, not even in childhood. Khaidu imagined it used to be done among her people when they were at peace, but after the coming of the Dark Father, such things were left aside as useless at best, and dangerous at worst.
After all, to be pampered, even for
