The Earth's Children Series 6-Book Bundle

by Jean M. Auel

  Jondalar started to put the donii back, but he wasn’t quite through. He stopped and held the figure in both hands. “One more thing. If Ayla should ever become pregnant with a child of my spirit, I would like to know that it is the child of my spirit.”

  Interesting request, Losaduna thought. Most men might like to know, but it doesn’t really matter that much. I wonder why it’s so important to him? And what did he mean by a child of his essence … as Ayla believes? I’d like to ask her, but this is a private ritual. I can’t tell her what he has said here. Maybe we can discuss it from a philosophical point of view sometime.

  Ayla watched the two men leave the Ceremonial Hearth. She felt sure they both had accomplished what they meant to do, but the shorter man had a questioning expression and an unsatisfied set to his shoulders, and the tall one had stiffened and looked rather unhappy, but determined. The strange undercurrent made her even more curious about what went on inside.

  “I hope she will change her mind,” Losaduna was saying as they drew near. “I think the best way for her to overcome her terrible experience is to go ahead with her First Rites. We will have to be very careful who we choose for her, though. I wish you were staying, Jondalar. She seems to have developed an interest in you. I think it’s good to see her warming toward a man.”

  “I would like to help, but we just can’t stay. We have to leave as soon as we can, tomorrow or the next day, if possible.”

  “You’re right, of course. The season could turn any time. Be wary if you notice either one of you getting irritable,” Losaduna said.

  “The Malaise,” Jondalar said.

  “What is Malaise?” Ayla asked.

  “It comes with the foehn, the snow-melter, the spring wind,” Losaduna said. “The wind comes out of the southwest, warm and dry, and hard enough to uproot trees. It melts snow so fast that high drifts can be gone in a day, and if it hits when you are on the glacier, you may not make it across. The ice could melt beneath your feet and drop you into a crevasse, or it could send a river across your path, or open a crack in front of you. It comes so fast that the evil spirits that like the cold can’t get out of its way. It cleans them out, sweeps them out of hidden places, pushes them on ahead. That’s why the evil spirits ride the headwinds of the snow-melter and usually arrive just before it. They bring the Malaise. If you know what to expect and can control them, they can be a warning, but they’re subtle, and it’s not easy to turn the evil spirits to your advantage.”

  “How do you know when the evil spirits have come?” Ayla asked.

  “As I mentioned, watch out if you start feeling irritable. They can make you sick, and if you are already sick, they can make it worse, but more often they just make you want to argue or fight. Some people go into a rage, but everyone knows that it’s caused by the Malaise, and people are not held to blame—unless they do serious damage or injury, and even then much is excused. Afterward, people are glad for the snow-melter because it brings new growth, new life, but no one looks forward to the Malaise.”

  “Come and eat!” It was Solandia who spoke; they hadn’t seen her coming. “People are already going back for second portions. If you don’t hurry, there won’t be any left.”

  They walked toward the central hearth where a large fire was burning, whipped up by drafts coming in the mouth of the cave. Though not fully dressed for the intense cold outside, most people wore warm clothes in the unscreened areas of the cave that were open to the cold and winds. The roast haunch of ibex was rare in the middle, though keeping it hot was cooking it a bit more; fresh meat was welcome. There was also a rich meaty soup, made with dried meat, mammoth fat, a few bits of dried roots, and mountain bilberries; nearly the last of their stored vegetables and fruits. Everyone could hardly wait for the fresh greens of spring.

  But the hard, cold winter was still upon them, and as much as he wished for spring, Jondalar wished even more for the winter to last a little longer, just until they got across the glacier that still lay beyond them.

  38

  After the meal Losaduna announced that something was being offered at the Ceremonial Hearth. Ayla and Jondalar didn’t understand the word, but they soon learned it was a drink that was served warm. The taste was pleasant and vaguely familiar. Ayla thought it might be some kind of mildly fermented fruit juice flavored with herbs. She was surprised to learn from Solandia that birch sap was a primary ingredient, though fruit juice was only part of the recipe.

  It turned out that the taste was deceiving. The drink was stronger than Ayla had thought, and when she asked, Solandia confided that the herbs contributed a large measure of its potency. Then Ayla realized that the vaguely familiar taste came from wormwood artemisia, a very powerful herb that could be dangerous if too much was taken, or if it was used too frequently. It had been difficult to detect because of the pleasant-tasting but highly perfumed woodruff and other aromatic flavors. It made her wonder what else was in it, which led her to taste and analyze the drink more seriously.

  She asked Solandia about the powerful herb, mentioning its possible dangers. The woman explained that the plant, which she called absinthe, was seldom used except in that drink, reserved only for Mother Festivals. Because of its sacred nature, Solandia was usually reluctant to reveal the specific ingredients in the drink, but Ayla’s questions were so precise and knowledgeable that she couldn’t help but answer. Ayla discovered that the beverage was not at all what it seemed. What she had first thought to be a simple, pleasant-tasting, mild drink was in fact a potent, complex mixture made especially to encourage the relaxation, spontaneity, and warm interaction that were desirable during the Festival to Honor the Mother.

  As the people of the Cave began coming into the Ceremonial Hearth, Ayla first noticed a heightened awareness as a result of all her tasting, but it soon gave way to a pleasant, languorous, warm feeling that made her forget about analyzing. She noticed Jondalar and several others talking to Madenia, and, abruptly leaving Solandia, she headed toward them. Every man there saw her coming and liked what he saw. She smiled as she approached the group, and Jondalar felt the powerful love her smile always evoked. It was not going to be easy to follow Losaduna’s instructions and encourage her to experience the Mother Festival fully, even with the relaxing drink that the One Who Served the Mother had urged on him. He took a deep breath, then downed the balance of the liquid in his cup.

  Filonia, and especially her mate, Daraldi, whom she had met earlier, were among those who greeted Ayla warmly.

  “Your cup is empty,” he said, dipping out a ladleful from a wooden bowl and filling Ayla’s cup.

  “You can pour a little more for me, too,” Jondalar said in an overly hearty voice. Losaduna noticed the man’s forced friendliness, but he didn’t think the others would pay much attention. There was one who did, however. Ayla glanced at him, saw his jaw working, and knew something was bothering him. She caught Losaduna’s quick observation, too. Something was going on between them, she realized, but the drink was having its effect on her, and she put it in the back of her mind to think about later. Suddenly drumbeats filled the enclosed space.

  “The dancing is starting!” Filonia said. “Come on, Jondalar. Let me show you the steps.” She took his hand and led him toward the middle of the area.

  “Madenia, you go along, too,” Losaduna urged.

  “Yes,” Jondalar said. “You come, too. Do you know the steps?” He smiled at her, and Ayla thought he seemed to relax.

  Jondalar had been talking and paying attention to Madenia throughout the day, and though she had felt shy and tongue-tied, she had been acutely conscious of the tall man’s presence. Every time he looked at her with his compelling eyes, she had felt her heart race. When he took her hand to lead her to the dancing area, she felt a tingling of chills and heat at the same time, and she could not have resisted even if she had tried.

  Filonia frowned for a moment, but then smiled at the girl. “We can both teach him the steps,” she said, leading them to th
e dancing area.

  “May I show …” Daraldi started to say to Ayla, just as Laduni said, “I would be happy …” They smiled at each other, trying to give each other a chance to speak.

  Ayla’s smile took them both in. “Perhaps both of you could show me the steps,” she said.

  Daraldi bobbed his head in agreement, and Laduni gave her a happy grin as they each took one of her hands and led her toward the area where the dancers were gathering. While they were arranging themselves in a circle, the visitors were shown some basic steps; then they all joined hands as a flute sounded. Ayla was startled by the sound. She hadn’t heard a flute since Manen’s playing at the Summer Meeting of the Mamutoi. Had it been less than a year since they left the Meeting? It seemed so long ago, and she would never see them again.

  She blinked away tears at the thought, but as the dancing began, she had little time to dwell on poignant reminiscences. The rhythm was easy to follow in the beginning, but became faster and more complex as the evening progressed. Ayla was unquestionably the center of attention. Every man found her irresistible. They crowded around her, vying for her attention, making innuendos and even blatant invitations thinly veiled as jokes. Jondalar flirted gently with Madenia and more obviously with Filonia, but he was aware of every man circling around Ayla.

  The dancing became more complicated, with intricate steps and changing of places, and Ayla danced with them all. She laughed at their jokes and bawdy remarks as people broke away to refill their cups, or couples retreated to secluded corners. Laduni jumped into the middle and did an energetic solo performance. Toward the end, his mate joined him.

  Ayla was feeling thirsty, and several people went with her to get another drink. She found Daraldi walking beside her.

  “I would like some, too,” Madenia said.

  “I’m sorry,” Losaduna said, putting his hand over her cup. “You have not had your Rites of First Pleasures, yet, my dear. You will have to settle for tea.” Madenia frowned and started to object; then she went to get a cup of the innocuous beverage she had been drinking.

  He did not intend to allow her any of the privileges of womanhood until she went through the ceremony that bestowed womanhood, and he was doing everything he could to encourage her to agree to the important ritual. At the same time, he was letting everyone know that in spite of her terrible experience, she had been purified, restored to her former state, and was to be subject to the same restrictions and treated with the same special care and attention given to any other girl on the verge of becoming a woman. He felt it was the only way she would ever fully recover from the unconscionable attack and multiple rape she had suffered.

  Ayla and Daraldi were the last to drink, and as everyone else wandered away in one direction or the other, they were left alone. He turned to her.

  “Ayla, you are such a beautiful woman,” he said.

  When she was growing up she had always been the tall, ugly one, and as many times as Jondalar had told her she was beautiful, she always thought it was because he loved her. She didn’t think of herself as beautiful, and his comment surprised her.

  “No,” she said, laughing. “I’m not beautiful!”

  Her remark took him aback. It wasn’t what he had expected to hear.

  “But … but, you are,” he said.

  Daraldi had been trying to interest her all evening, and though her conversation was friendly and warm, and she obviously enjoyed the dancing, moving with a natural sensuality that encouraged his efforts, he hadn’t been able to strike the spark that would lead to further advances. He knew he was not an unattractive man, and this was a Mother Festival, but he couldn’t seem to make his desires known. Finally he decided on a more direct approach.

  “Ayla,” he said, putting his arm around her waist. He felt her stiffen for a moment, but he persisted, leaning over to nuzzle her ear. “You are a beautiful woman,” he whispered.

  She turned to face him, but instead of leaning toward him in a willing response, she pulled back. He put his other arm around her waist to bring her closer. She leaned back and put her hands on his shoulders and looked him full in the face.

  Ayla hadn’t quite understood the real meaning of the Mother Festival. She had thought it was just a warm and friendly gathering, even though they had talked about “honoring” the Mother and she knew what that usually meant. As she had noticed couples, and sometimes three or more, retiring to the darker areas around the hide partitions, she was getting more of an idea, but it wasn’t until she looked at Daraldi and saw his desire that she finally knew what he expected.

  He pulled her toward him and leaned forward to kiss her. Ayla felt a warmth for him, and she responded with some feeling. His hand found her breast, and then he tried to reach under her tunic. He was attractive, the feeling wasn’t unpleasant, she was relaxed and in the mood to be willing, but she wanted time to think. It was hard to resist, her mind was not clear; then she heard rhythmic sounds.

  “Let’s go back to the dancers,” she said.

  “Why? There aren’t many left dancing anyway.”

  “I want to do a Mamutoi dance,” she said. He acquiesced. She had responded; he could wait a little longer.

  When they reached the central area, Ayla noticed that Jondalar was still there. He was dancing with Madenia, holding both her hands and showing her a step he had learned from the Sharamudoi. Filonia, Losaduna, Solandia, and a few others were clapping their hands nearby; the flute player and the one beating the rhythms had found partners.

  Ayla and Daraldi joined in clapping their hands together. She caught Jondalar’s eye and changed from slapping both hands together to slapping her thighs, in the Mamutoi style. Madenia stopped to look, then backed away as Jondalar joined Ayla in a complicated thigh-slapping rhythm. Soon they were moving together, then backing away and around each other, looking at each other over their shoulders. When they came face-to-face, they reached for each other’s hands. From the moment she caught his eye, Ayla saw no one but Jondalar. The generalized warmth and friendliness she had felt for Daraldi was lost in her overpowering response to the desire, the need, and the love in the blue, blue eyes looking at her at that moment.

  The intensity between them was apparent to everyone. Losaduna watched them closely for a while, then nodded imperceptibly. It was clear that the Mother was making Her wishes known. Daraldi shrugged his shoulders, then smiled at Filonia. Madenia’s eyes opened wide. She knew she was seeing something rare and beautiful.

  When Ayla and Jondalar stopped dancing, they were in each other’s arms oblivious to everyone around them. Solandia started clapping and soon all of those who were left joined in the applause. The sound finally reached them. They backed away from each other, feeling a bit self-conscious.

  “I think there is still a drink or two left,” Solandia said. “Shall we finish it off?”

  “That’s a good idea!” Jondalar said, his arm around Ayla. He wasn’t about to let her go now.

  Daraldi picked up the large wooden bowl to pour out the last of the special drink, then looked at Filonia. I’m really very lucky, he thought. She is a beautiful woman, and she has brought two children to my hearth. Just because it was Mother Festival didn’t mean he had to honor Her with someone other than his mate.

  Jondalar finished his drink in one swallow, put his cup down, then suddenly picked Ayla up and carried her to their bed. She felt strangely giddy, full of joy, almost as though she had escaped some unpleasant fate, but her joy was nothing to Jondalar’s. He had watched her all night, seen the way all the men wanted her, tried to give her every opportunity as Losaduna had advised, and was sure she would end up choosing someone else.

  He could have gone with someone else many times himself, but he wouldn’t leave until he was sure she was gone. Instead, he stayed with Madenia, knowing she was not available to any man yet. He enjoyed paying attention to her, seeing her relax around him, appreciating the beginnings of the woman she was going to be. Although he wouldn’t have blamed Filo
nia if she had gone with someone else, and she had many opportunities, he was glad she’d stayed near him. He would have hated being left alone if Ayla had chosen someone else. They talked about many things. Thonolan and their travels together, her children, especially Thonolia, and Daraldi and how much she cared for him, but Jondalar couldn’t bring himself to speak very much about Ayla.

  Then, in the end, when she came to him, he could hardly believe it. He laid her down carefully on their sleeping platform, looked at her and saw the love in her eyes, and felt an aching soreness in his throat as he held back tears. He had done everything Losaduna had said, given her every chance, even tried to encourage her, but she had come to him. He wondered if that was a sign from the Mother telling him that if Ayla became pregnant, it would be a child of his spirit?

  He changed the position of the movable privacy screens, and when she started to get up and remove her clothes, he gently pushed her back down. “Tonight is mine,” he said. “I want to do it all.”

  She lay back down and nodded with a little smile, feeling a thrill of anticipation. He went outside the screens, brought back a lighted stick, lit a small lamp, and set it in a niche. It didn’t shed much light, just enough to barely see. He started to remove her clothes, then stopped.

  “Do you think we could find our way to the hot springs with this?” he asked, indicating the lamp.