by Jean M. Auel
The language he spoke was not the Zelandonii he had spoken to the travelers, but after listening for a while, Ayla was sure she heard similarities. She realized that although they had a different stress and pronunciation, Losadunai was related to Zelandonii in the same way that S’Armunai, and Sharamudoi for that matter, were related to Mamutoi. This language even had a link with S’Armunai. She had understood some of the words and had picked up the gist of some of his comments. She would be speaking with these people in a few days.
Ayla’s gift for languages did not seem unusual to her. She didn’t consciously try to learn them, but her sharp ear for nuance and inflection and her ability to see the connections made it easy for her. Losing her own language in the trauma of losing her people when she was very young, and having to learn a different way of communicating, but one that utilized the same areas of the brain as spoken language, enhanced her inherent language skills. Her need to learn to communicate again when she discovered that she could not, gave her an unconscious but profound incentive to learn any unfamiliar language. It was the combination of natural ability and circumstances that made her so adept.
“Losaduna says you are most welcome to stay at the visitors’ hearth,” Laduna said to them after his explanation.
“We need to unpack the horses and get them settled first,” Jondalar said. “This field right outside your cave seems to have some good winter graze. Will anyone mind if we leave them here?”
“You are welcome to use the field,” Laduni said. “I think everyone will be intrigued to see horses so close.” He couldn’t help glancing at Ayla, wondering what she had done to the animals. It seemed obvious that she commanded very powerful spirits.
“I must ask something else,” Ayla said. “Wolf is accustomed to sleeping near us. He would be quite unhappy anywhere else. If having the wolf inside would make your Losaduna, or your Cave, uncomfortable, we will set up our tent and sleep outside.”
Laduni spoke again to the people, and after some conversation he turned back to the visitors. “They want you to come in, but some of the mothers fear for their children,” he said.
“I understand their fear. I can promise that Wolf will not harm anyone, but if that is not enough, we will stay outside.”
There was more conversation, then Laduni said, “They say you should come in.”
Laduni went with them when Ayla and Jondalar went to unpack the horses, and he was just as thrilled to meet Whinney and Racer as he had been to meet Wolf. He had done his share of horse hunting, but he had never touched one, except by chance when he managed to get close enough during the chase. Ayla recognized his enjoyment, and she thought that later she might offer him a ride on Whinney’s back.
As they walked back toward the cave, dragging their things in the bowl boat, Laduni asked Jondalar about his brother. When he saw pain flash across the tall man’s face, he knew there had been a tragedy before Jondalar answered.
“Thonolan died. He was killed by a cave lion.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I liked him,” Laduni said.
“Everyone liked him.”
“He was so eager to follow the Great Mother River all the way to the end. Did he get there?”
“Yes, he did reach the end of Donau before he died, but he had no heart for it by then. He had fallen in love with a woman, and mated her, but she died in childbirth,” Jondalar said. “It changed him, took the heart out of him. He didn’t want to live after that.”
Laduni shook his head. “What a shame. He was so full of life. Filonia thought about him for a long time after you left. She kept hoping he would come back.”
“How is Filonia?” Jondalar asked, remembering the pretty young daughter of Laduni’s hearth.
The older man grinned. “She’s mated now, and Duna smiles on her. She has two children. Shortly after you and Thonolan left, she discovered she had been blessed. When the word got around that she was pregnant, I think every eligible Losadunai man found a reason to visit our Cave.”
“I can imagine. As I recall, she was a lovely young woman. She made a Journey, didn’t she?”
“Yes, with an older cousin.”
“And she has two children?” Jondalar said.
Laduni’s eyes sparkled with pleasure. “A daughter from the first blessing, Thonolia—Filonia was sure she was a child of your brother’s spirit—and not long ago, she had a son. She is living with her mate’s Cave. They had more room, but it’s not too far away and we see her, and the children, regularly.” There was satisfaction and joy in Laduni’s voice.
“I hope Thonolia is a child of Thonolan’s spirit. I’d like to think that there is still a piece of his spirit in this world,” Jondalar said.
Could it happen so fast? Jondalar wondered. He only spent one night with her. Was his spirit so potent? Or, if Ayla is right, could Thonolan have started a baby growing inside Filonia with the essence of his manhood that night we stayed with them? He remembered the woman he had been with.
“How is Lanalia?” he asked.
“She is fine. She is visiting kin at another Cave. They are trying to arrange a mating for her. A man lost his mate and is left with three young children at his hearth. Lanalia never had any children, though she always wanted some. If she finds him compatible, they will mate, and she will adopt the children. It could be a very happy arrangement, and she is very excited about it.”
“I’m pleased for her, and wish her much happiness,” Jondalar said, covering up his disappointment. He was hoping that she might have become pregnant after sharing Pleasures with him. Whatever it is, a man’s spirit or the essence of his manhood, Thonolan has proved the strength of his, but what about me? Is my essence or spirit potent enough? Jondalar wondered.
As they entered the cave, Ayla looked around with interest. She had seen many dwellings of the Others: lightweight or portable shelters that were used in summer, and sturdier permanent structures able to withstand the rigors of winter. Some were constructed out of mammoth bones and covered with sod and clay, some out of wood and tucked away under an overhang or on a floating platform, but she had not seen a cave like this since she left the Clan. It had a large mouth that faced southeast, and it was nice and roomy inside. Brun would have liked this cave, she thought.
Once her eyes became accustomed to the dim light and she saw the interior, she was surprised. She had expected to see several fireplaces in various locations, the hearths of each family. There were family fireplaces within the cave, but they were inside or near the openings of structures made of hides fastened to poles. They were similar to tents, but not conical in shape, and open at the top—they needed no protection from the weather inside the cave. As far as she could tell, they were used as panels to screen the interior space from casual sight. Ayla recalled the Clan’s prohibition against looking directly into the living space, as defined by boundary stones, of another man’s hearth. It was a matter of tradition and self-control, but the purpose, she realized, was the same: privacy.
Laduni was leading them toward one of the screened-off dwelling spaces. “Your bad experience didn’t involve a band of rowdies, did it?” he asked.
“No, has there been trouble?” Jondalar asked. “When we met before, you spoke about some young man who had gathered together several followers. They were making sport of the Cl … flatheads.” He glanced at Ayla, but he knew Laduni would never understand “Clan.” “They were baiting the men, then taking their Pleasures with the women. Something about high spirits leading to trouble for everyone.”
When Ayla heard “flatheads,” she listened closely, curious to know if there were many Clan people nearby.
“Yes, those are the ones. Charoli and his band,” Laduni said. “It may have started with high spirits, but it has gone much beyond that.”
“I would have thought by now that those young men would have given up that kind of behavior,” Jondalar said.
“It’s Charoli. Individually, I suppose, they are not bad young men, but he encou
rages them. Losaduna says he wants to show how brave he is, to show he is a man, because he grew up without a man at his hearth.”
“Many women have raised boys alone, who have turned out to be fine men,” Jondalar said. They had become so involved in the conversation that they had stopped walking and were standing in the middle of the cave. People were gathering around.
“Yes, of course. But his mother’s mate disappeared when he was just a baby, and she never took another. Instead she lavished all her attention on him, indulging him long beyond his early years, when he should have been learning a craft and the duties of an adult. Now it’s up to everyone to put a stop to him.”
“What happened?” Jondalar asked.
“A girl of our Cave was near the river setting snares. She had just become a young woman a few moons before, and she hadn’t yet had her Rites of First Pleasures. She was looking forward to the ceremony at the next gathering. Charoli and his band happened to see her alone, and they all took her …”
“All of them? Took her? By force?” Jondalar said, appalled. “A girl, not yet a woman. I can’t believe it!”
“All of them,” Laduni said, with a cold anger that was worse than any heat of the moment. “And we will not put up with it! I don’t know if they got tired of flathead females, or what excuse they gave themselves, but that was too much. They caused her pain, and bleeding. She says she wants nothing more to do with men, ever again. She has refused to go through with her womanhood rites.”
“That’s terrible, but it’s hard to blame her. It is not the way for a young woman to learn of Doni’s Gift,” Jondalar said.
“Her mother is afraid that if she forgoes honoring the Mother with the ceremony, she will never have children.”
“She could be right, but what can be done?” Jondalar asked.
“Her mother wants Charoli dead, and she wants us to declare a blood feud against his Cave,” Laduni said. “Revenge is her right, but a blood feud can destroy everyone. Besides, it’s not Charoli’s Cave that has caused the trouble. It’s that band of his, and some of them aren’t even from the Cave of Charoli’s birth. I’ve sent a message to Tomasi, the hunt leader there, and put an idea to him.”
“An idea? What’s your plan?”
“I think it’s up to all of the Losadunai to stop Charoli and his band. I’m hoping that Tomasi will join with me in trying to convince everyone to bring those young men back under the supervision of the Caves. I’ve even suggested that he allow Madenia’s mother her revenge, rather than suffer the bloodshed of a feud over them. But Tomasi is related to Charoli’s mother.”
“That would be a hard decision,” Jondalar said. He noticed that Ayla had been listening closely. “Does anyone know where Charoli’s band stays? They can’t be with any of your people. I can’t believe any Cave of Losadunai would shelter such ruffians in their midst.”
“South of here is a barren area, with underground rivers and many caves. It is rumored that they are hiding in one of the caves near the edge of that region.”
“They could be hard to find if there are many caves.”
“But they can’t stay there all the time. They have to get food, and they can be trailed and followed. A good tracker could trail them easier than he could an animal, but we need all the Caves to cooperate. Then it wouldn’t take long to find them.”
“What will you do with them after you find them?” This time it was Ayla who asked the question.
“I think that once all those young ruffians are separated, it wouldn’t take long to break their ties to each other. Each Cave can handle one or two of their own in their own way. I doubt if most of them really want to live outside the Losadunai, and not be a part of a Cave. They will want mates, someday, and not many women would choose to live the way they do.”
“I think you are right,” Jondalar said.
“I’m very sorry to hear about this young woman,” Ayla said. “What was her name? Madenia?” Her expression showed how troubled she was.
“I am, too,” Jondalar added. “I wish we could stay and help, but if we don’t cross the glacier soon, we may have to stay until next winter.”
“It may already be too late to make it across this winter,” Laduni said.
“Too late?” Jondalar said. “But it’s cold, winter. Everything is frozen solid. All the crevasses should be filled with snow.”
“Yes. It is winter now, but this late in the season, you never know. You could still make it, but if the foehn winds come early—and they could—then all the snow will melt fast. The glacier can be treacherous during the first spring melt, and under the circumstances, I don’t think it’s safe to go around through the flathead country to the north. They are not too friendly these days. Charoli’s band has antagonized them. Even animals have some feeling of protection for their females and will fight to protect their own.”
“They are not animals,” Ayla said, springing to their defense. “They are people, just a different kind of people.”
Laduni held his tongue; he did not want to offend a visitor and a guest. With her closeness to animals, she might think of all animals as people. If a wolf protects her, and she treats it like a human, is it any wonder that she thinks of flatheads as people, too? he thought. I know they can be clever, but they are not human.
Several people had gathered around while they were talking. One of them, a small, thin, rather rumpled middle-aged man with a shy smile, spoke up. “Don’t you think you should let them get settled, Laduni?”
“I’m beginning to wonder if you are going to keep them here talking all day,” the woman standing beside him added. She was a plump woman, just a shade shorter than the man, with a friendly face.
“I’m sorry, you are right, of course. Let me introduce you,” Laduni said. He looked at Ayla first, then turned toward the man. “Losaduna, the One Who Serves the Mother for Hot Well Cave of the Losadunai, this is Ayla of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, Chosen of the Lion, Protected by the Great Bear, and Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth.”
“The Mammoth Hearth! Then you are One Who Serves the Mother, too,” the man said with a surprised smile, before he even greeted her.
“No, I am a Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth. Mamut was training me, but I have never been initiated,” Ayla explained.
“But born to it! You must be chosen of the Mother, too, along with all the rest,” the man said, obviously delighted.
“Losaduna, you have not greeted her yet,” the plump woman chided.
The man looked befuddled for a moment. “Oh, I guess not. Always these formalities. In the name of Duna, the Great Earth Mother, may I welcome you, Ayla of the Mamutoi, Chosen by the Lion Camp, and Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth.”
The woman beside him sighed and shook her head. “He got it mixed up, but if it was some little-known ceremony, or legend about the Mother, he wouldn’t forget a bit of it,” she said.
Ayla couldn’t help smiling. She had never met One Who Served the Mother who seemed more unlikely to function in that capacity. Those she had met before were each self-possessed, easily recognized individuals, with a powerful presence, not at all like this absentminded, diffident man, unmindful of his appearance, with a pleasant, rather shy demeanor. But the woman seemed to know where his strengths were, and Laduni showed no lack of respect. Losaduna was obviously more than he seemed.
“That’s all right,” Ayla said to the woman. “He didn’t really get it wrong.” She was, after all, chosen by the Lion Camp, too; adopted, not born to them, Ayla thought. Then she addressed the man, who had taken both her hands and was still holding them. “I greet the One Who Serves the Great Mother of All, and thank you for your welcome, Losaduna.”
He smiled at Ayla’s use of another of the names of the Duna, as Laduni began to speak. “Solandia of the Losadunai, born to the Hill River Cave, Mate of the Losaduna, this is Ayla of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, Chosen of the Lion, Protected by the Great Bear, and Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth.”
“I
greet you, Ayla of the Mamutoi, and invite you to our lodgings,” Solandia said. The full titles and affiliations had been said enough times. She didn’t think they needed to be repeated again.
“Thank you, Solandia,” she said.
Laduni then looked at Jondalar. “Losaduna, One Who Serves the Mother for the Hot Well Cave of the Losadunai, this is Jondalar, Master Flint Knapper of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, son of Marthona, former leader of the Ninth Cave, brother of Joharran, leader of the Ninth Cave, born to the Hearth of Dalanar, leader and founder of the Lanzadonii.”
Ayla had never heard all of Jondalar’s titles and ties before, and she was surprised. Though she didn’t fully understand the significance, it sounded impressive. After Jondalar repeated the litany and was formally introduced, they were finally led to the large living and ceremonial space allocated to Losaduna.
Wolf, who had been sitting quietly close to Ayla’s leg, gave a little yip when they reached the entrance to the dwelling space. He had seen a child inside, but his reaction frightened Solandia. She ran in and snatched the baby up off the floor. “I have four children; I don’t know if that wolf should be in here,” she said, fear raising the pitch of her voice. “Micheri can’t even walk. How can I be sure he won’t go after my little boy?”
“Wolf will not harm the little one,” Ayla said. “He grew up with children and loves them. He is more gentle with them than with adults. He wasn’t going after the baby, he was just so happy to see him.”
Ayla had signaled Wolf to stay down, but he couldn’t hide his eager anticipation in seeing the children. Solandia eyed the carnivore warily. She couldn’t tell if he was showing eagerness out of happiness or hunger, but she was also curious about the visitors. One of the best parts of being the mate of Losaduna was that she had the advantage of being the first to talk with the infrequent visitors, and she could spend more time with them because they usually stayed at the Ceremonial Hearth.