by Jean M. Auel
“There you are, Ayla. I’ve been looking for you. I’d like to talk to you.”
“I’m busy with Mamut now,” she said.
“I think we’re through, if you want to talk to Jondalar,” Mamut said.
Ayla looked down, and then at the old man, avoiding Jondalar’s troubled gaze, then said softly, “I don’t think we have anything to say to each other, Mamut.”
Jondalar felt his face drain, then a shock of blushing heat. She had been avoiding him! She didn’t even want to talk to him. “Uh … well, uh … I’m … I’m sorry I bothered you,” he said, backing away. Then, wishing he could find a place to hide, he rushed off.
Mamut observed her closely. After he left, she watched him go, her eyes even more troubled than his. He shook his head, but refrained from speaking as they walked together back to Lion Camp.
As they neared, Ayla noticed Nezzie and Tulie coming toward them. Rydag’s death had been hard on Nezzie. Just the day before she had brought what was left of his medicine back, and they had both wept. Nezzie didn’t want it around as a sad reminder, but wasn’t sure if she should throw it away. It made Ayla realize that with Rydag gone, the need to help Nezzie treat him was gone, too.
“We were looking for you, Ayla,” Tulie said. She seemed delighted with herself the way someone would who had been planning a big surprise, and that was rare for the big headwoman. The two women opened out something that was carefully folded. Ayla’s eyes opened wide, and the two women looked at each other and grinned. “Every bride needs a new tunic. Usually it is the man’s mother who makes it, but I wanted to help Nezzie.”
It was a stunning garment of golden yellow leather, exquisitely and ornately decorated; certain sections of it were solidly filled in with designs in ivory beads, highlighted by many small amber beads.
“It’s so beautiful, and there’s so much work in it. The beadwork alone must have taken days and days. When did you make it?” Ayla asked.
“We started it after you announced your Promise, and finished it here,” Nezzie said. “Come in the tent and try it on.”
Ayla looked at Mamut. He smiled and nodded. He had been aware of the project, and even conspired with them in the surprise. The three women went into the tent, and toward Tulie’s sleeping section. Ayla undressed, but she wasn’t quite sure how to wear the garment. The women put it on her. It was a specially made tunic that opened down the front, and was tied closed with a finger-woven sash of red mammoth wool.
“You can wear it closed like this if you just want to wear it to show someone,” Nezzie said, “but for the ceremony, you should open it like this.” She pulled back the top of the front opening and retied the sash. “A woman proudly shows her breasts when she is joined, when she brings her hearth to form a union with a man.”
The two women stepped back to admire the bride-to-be. She has breasts to be proud of, Nezzie thought. Mother’s breasts, that she can nurse with. Too bad she has no mother here to be with her. She would make any woman proud.
“Can we come in now?” Deegie said, peeking in the tent. All the women of the Camp came in then to admire Ayla in her finery. It seemed they all were in on the surprise.
“Close it now, so you can go outside and show the men,” Nezzie said, closing and retying the mating tunic again. “You shouldn’t wear it open in public until the ceremony.”
Ayla stepped outside the tent to the smiling approval and pleasure of the men of the Lion Camp. Others, who were not of the Lion Camp, were watching her as well. Vincavec had known of the surprise, and made a point of being close by. When he saw her, he resolved that in some way he was going to join with her, if he had to co-mate with ten men.
Another man who was not of the Lion Camp, though most people thought of him in that way, was watching, too. Jondalar had followed them back, not quite willing to accept her rebuff, or even believe it. Danug told him, and he waited with the others. When she first stepped out, he filled his eyes with the sight of her, then he closed them and his forehead furrowed with pain. He had lost her. She was showing her intention to join with Ranec the next day. He took a deep breath and clamped his teeth together. He could not stay to see her joined with the dark-skinned carver of the Lion Camp. It was time for him to leave.
After Ayla changed back into her regular clothing and left again with Mamut, Jondalar hurried into the tent. He was glad to find it empty. He packed his traveling gear, thanking Tulie again in his mind, laid out everything he would take, and then covered it with a sleeping fur. He planned to wait until morning, say goodbye to everyone, and leave immediately after breakfast. He wouldn’t tell anyone until then.
During the day Jondalar visited with special friends he had made at the Meeting, not saying goodbye, but thinking it. In the evening he spent time with each member of the Lion Camp. They were like family. It was going to be hard leaving, knowing he would never see them again. It was even harder finding a way to talk to Ayla, at least once more. He watched her, and when she and Latie went out to the horse lean-to, he quickly followed them.
The words of their conversation were superficial and uncomfortable, but there was an intensity about him that filled Ayla with an uneasy tension. When she went back in, he stayed and brushed the young stallion until it got dark. The first time he saw Ayla, she was helping Whinney give birth, he remembered. He’d never seen anything like that before. It was going to be hard leaving him, too. Jondalar felt more for Racer than he ever thought it was possible to feel for an animal.
Finally he went in the tent, and crawled into his bed. He closed his eyes, but sleep would not come. He lay awake and thought of Ayla, of their time in the valley and their love that grew slowly. No, not so slowly. He loved her from the beginning, he had just been slow to recognize it, slow to appreciate it, so slow he lost it. He threw away her love, and he would pay for the rest of his life. How could he have been so stupid? He would never forget her, or the pain of losing her, and he would never forgive himself.
It was a long, difficult night, and when the first light of dawn barely glimmered through the tent opening, he could stand it no longer. He couldn’t say goodbye, to her or anyone, he just had to leave. Quietly, he gathered up his travel clothing, packs, and sleeping roll, and slipped outside.
“You decided not to wait. I thought as much,” Mamut said.
Jondalar spun around. “I … ah … I have to go. I can’t stay any longer. It’s time I … ah,” he stammered.
“I know, Jondalar. I wish you good Journey. You have a long way to go. You must decide for yourself what is best, but remember this, a choice cannot be made if there is none to make.” The old man ducked into the tent.
Jondalar frowned, and he walked toward the horse lean-to. What did Mamut mean? Why did Those Who Served the Mother always speak words that could not be understood?
When he saw Racer, Jondalar had a fleeting impulse to ride away on him, at least take away that much, but Racer was Ayla’s horse. He patted both of them, gave the brown stallion a hug around the neck, and then noticed Wolf, and gave him an affectionate rub. Then he quickly got up and started walking down the path.
When Ayla woke up the sun was streaming in. It looked like a perfect day. Then she remembered this was the day of the Matrimonial celebration. The day didn’t seem so perfect any more. She sat up and looked around. Something was wrong. It had always been her habit to glance over in Jondalar’s direction when she first woke up. He wasn’t there. Jondalar is up early this morning, she thought. She couldn’t get over the feeling that something was very wrong.
She got up, dressed, and went outside to wash and find a twig for her teeth. Nezzie was beside the fire, looking at her, strangely. The feeling that something wasn’t right grew distinctly stronger. She glanced toward the horse lean-to. Whinney and Racer seemed fine, and there was Wolf. She went back in the tent and looked around again. Many people were up and gone for the day. Then she noticed that Jondalar’s place was empty. He wasn’t just gone for the day. His sleeping
roll and traveling packs, everything was missing. Jondalar was gone!
Ayla ran out in a panic. “Nezzie! Jondalar is gone! He’s not just at Wolf Camp someplace, he’s gone. And he left me behind!”
“I know, Ayla. I’ve been expecting it, haven’t you?”
“But he didn’t even say goodbye! I thought he was going to stay until the Matrimonial.”
“That’s the last thing he ever wanted to do, Ayla. He never wanted to see you join with someone else.”
“But … but … Nezzie, he didn’t want me. What else could I do?”
“What do you want to do?”
“I want to go with him! But he’s gone. How could he leave me? He was going to take me with him. That’s what we planned. What happened to everything we had planned, Nezzie?” she said, in a sudden burst of tears. Nezzie held out her arms, and comforted the sobbing young woman.
“Plans change, Ayla. Lives change. What about Ranec?”
“I’m not the right one for him. He should join with Tricie. She’s the one who loves him,” Ayla said.
“Don’t you love him? He loves you.”
“I wanted to love him, Nezzie. I tried to love him, but I love Jondalar. Now Jondalar is gone.” Ayla sobbed anew. “He doesn’t love me.”
“Are you so sure?” Nezzie asked.
“He left me, and he didn’t even say goodbye. Nezzie, why did he leave without me? What did I do wrong?” Ayla pleaded.
“Do you think you did something wrong?”
Ayla stopped and frowned. “He wanted to talk to me yesterday, and I wouldn’t talk to him.”
“Why wouldn’t you talk to him?”
“Because … because he didn’t want me. All last winter, when I loved him so much, and wanted to be with him, he didn’t want me. He wouldn’t even talk to me.”
“So when he did want to talk to you, you wouldn’t talk to him. It happens that way sometimes,” Nezzie said.
“But I do want to talk to him, Nezzie. I want to be with him. Even if he doesn’t love me, I want to be with him. But now he’s gone. He just got up and walked away. He can’t be gone! He can’t be gone … far …”
Nezzie looked at her and almost smiled.
“How far could he be, Nezzie? Walking? I can walk fast, maybe I can catch up with him. Maybe I should go after him and see what he wanted to talk to me about. Oh, Nezzie, I should be with him. I love him.”
“Then, go after him, child. If you want him, if you love him, go after him. Tell him how you feel. At least give him the chance to tell you what he wanted to say.”
“You’re right!” Ayla wiped away tears with the back of her hand and tried to think. “That’s what I should do. I’m going to do it. Right now!” she said, and started running down the path, even before Nezzie could say another word. She raced across the stepping-stones of the river, and into the field. Then she stopped. She didn’t know which way to go, she’d have to track him, and it would take forever to catch up with him this way.
Suddenly, Nezzie heard two piercing whistles. She smiled as the wolf zipped past her, and Whinney perked her ears and followed him. Racer trailed after. She watched down the slope as the wolf loped toward the young woman.
When he got closer, Ayla signaled, and spoke. “Find Jondalar, Wolf. Find Jondalar!”
The wolf started sniffing the ground and the air currents, and when he started off, Ayla noticed the slight traces of trampled grass and broken twigs. She leaped on Whinney’s back, and followed.
It was only after she started riding that the questions came to her. What am I going to say to him? How can I tell him that he promised to take me with him? What if he won’t listen? What if he doesn’t want me?
Rain had washed the coating of volcanic ash from trees and leaves, but Jondalar strode through the meadows and woodlands of the floodplain oblivious to the beauty of a rare summer day. He didn’t quite know where he was going, he just followed the river, but with each step that took him farther away, his thoughts weighed heavier.
Why am I leaving without her? Why am I traveling alone? Maybe I should go back, ask her to come with me? But she doesn’t want to come with you. She’s a Mamutoi. These are her people. She chose Ranec, not you, Jondalar, he said to himself. Yes, she chose Ranec, but did you give her any choice? Then he stopped. What was it Mamut said? Something about choice? “A choice cannot be made if there is none to make.” What did he mean?
Jondalar shook his head in exasperation, and then, he realized, he knew. I never gave her a choice. Ayla didn’t choose Ranec, at least not at first. Maybe the night of the adoption she had a choice … or did she? She was raised by the Clan. No one ever told her she had a choice. And then I pushed her away. Why didn’t I give her a choice before I left? Because she wouldn’t talk to you.
No, because you were afraid she wouldn’t choose you. Stop lying to yourself. After all that time, she finally decided not to talk to you, and you were afraid she wouldn’t choose you, that’s why, Jondalar. So you didn’t give her the chance. Are you any better off now?
Why don’t you go back and give her a choice? At least make the offer? But what will you say to her? She’s getting ready for the big ceremony. What will you offer? What can you offer?
You could offer to stay. You could even offer to co-mate with Ranec. Could you stand that? Could you share her with Ranec? If the only other choice is not having her at all, could you stay here and share her?
Jondalar stood still, closed his eyes, and frowned. Only if he had no other choice. What he wanted most was to take her home, and make it her home. The Mamutoi had accepted her, were the Zelandonii less accepting? Some of them, maybe not all of them, but he couldn’t promise.
Ranec has the Lion Camp, and many other affiliations. You can’t even offer her your people, your affiliations. You don’t know if they will accept her, or you. You don’t have anything to offer, except yourself.
If he could offer her no more than that, what would they do if his people wouldn’t accept them? We could go someplace else. We could even come back here. He frowned. That’s a lot of traveling. Maybe he should just offer to stay, establish himself here. Tarneg said he wanted a flint knapper for his new Camp. What about Ranec? More important, what about Ayla? What if she didn’t want him at all?
Jondalar was so engrossed in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the dull thud of hoofbeats until Wolf suddenly jumped up on him.
“Wolf? What are you doing …” He looked up and stared in disbelief as Ayla slid off Whinney’s back.
She walked toward him, shy now, so afraid he would turn his back on her again. How could she tell him? How could she make him listen? What could she do if he wouldn’t listen to her? Then she recalled those first wordless days, and the way she had learned to ask someone to listen a lifetime ago. She dropped to the ground, gracefully, from long practice, and bowed her head, and waited.
Jondalar gaped at her, didn’t understand for a moment, then remembered. It was her signal. When she wanted to tell him something important, but didn’t have the words, she used that Clan signal. But why was she speaking to him in the language of the Clan now? What did she want to tell him that was so important?
“Get up,” he said. “You don’t have to do that.” Then he remembered the proper response. He tapped her shoulder. When Ayla looked up, she had tears in her eyes. He hunkered down on one knee to wipe them away. “Ayla, why are you doing this? Why are you here?”
“Jondalar, yesterday you tried to tell me something, and I wouldn’t listen to you. Now I want to tell you something. It is difficult to say, but I want you to listen. That’s why I’m asking you this way. Will you listen, and not turn away?”
Hope blazed so hot Jondalar couldn’t speak. He only nodded, and held her hands.
“Once you wanted me to go away with you,” she began, “and I didn’t want to leave the valley.” She stopped to take a deep breath. “Now, I want to go with you, anywhere with you. Once you told me that you loved me, that you wanted me.
Now, I think you don’t want to love me, but I still want to go with you.”
“Get up, Ayla, please,” he said, helping her up. “What about Ranec? I thought you wanted him.” His arms were still around her.
“I don’t love Ranec. I love you, Jondalar. I never stopped loving you. I don’t know what I did to make you stop loving me.”
“You love me? You still love me? Oh, Ayla, my Ayla,” Jondalar said, crushing her to him. Then he looked at her as though he was seeing her for the first time, and his eyes filled with his love. She reached up and his mouth found hers. They came together, holding each other, with a hard and tender passion, full of love, full of longing.
Ayla couldn’t believe she was in his arms, that he was holding her, wanting her, loving her, after all this time. Tears filled her eyes, then she tried to stop them, afraid he would misunderstand them again, then she didn’t care and let the tears fall.
He looked down at her beautiful face. “You’re crying, Ayla.”
“It’s only because I love you. I have to cry. It’s been so long, and I love you so much,” she said.
He kissed her eyes, her tears, her mouth, and felt it open to him, gently, firmly.
“Ayla, are you really here?” he said. “I thought I’d lost you, and I knew it was my own fault. I love you, Ayla, I never stopped loving you. You must believe that. I never stopped loving you, even though I know why you thought so.”
“But you didn’t want to love me, did you?”
He closed his eyes and his forehead knotted with the pain of the truth. He nodded. “I was ashamed that I loved someone who came from the Clan, and I hated myself for feeling ashamed of the woman I loved. I’ve never been so happy with anyone as I have with you. I love you, and when it was just the two of us, everything was perfect. But when we were with other people … every time you did something that you learned from the Clan, I was embarrassed. And I was always afraid you’d say something, and then everyone would know that I loved a woman who was … abomination.” He could hardly say the word.