by Jean M. Auel
“You brought the horses!” she said, smiling with delight.
“I thought we might go for a ride in the morning,” he said, holding up the torch so she could see them.
The fireplace had been set and ready, and he lit the fire with the torch, then walked with her to greet the mare and the stallion. They were used to working together, with each doing separate tasks. Having their hands tied together made it more difficult even to handle the horses, and they found themselves in each other’s way.
“Let’s go get these thongs off,” Jondalar said. “I was glad enough to have them tied on, but now I’ll be glad to remove them.”
“Yes, but they are a good reminder to pay attention to each other,” she said.
“I don’t need a reminder to pay attention to you, certainly not on this night,” Jondalar said.
Ayla crawled inside the familiar shelter, holding her hand up and back so Jondalar could follow behind. He lighted a stone lamp with the torch, then tossed it into the fireplace outside. When he looked back in, Ayla was sitting on the sleeping furs that had been spread out on the ground over a leather padding that he had carefully stuffed with dry grass. He stopped for a moment and looked at the woman who had just become his mate.
The soft light of the lamp made her shadow dance behind her, and her hair gleamed with highlights from the small flame. He saw the yellowish tunic, open in front to reveal her full, taut breasts, with the beautiful amber pendant of the necklace nestled between them. But something was missing. Then he realized what it was.
“Where is your amulet?” he asked, drawing closer to her.
“I took it off,” she said. “I wanted to wear this outfit that Nezzie gave me and the necklace from your mother, and it didn’t look right with them. Marthona gave me a small packet made out of rawhide with no decoration for the amulet. It seemed appropriate. She brought it back to the lodge with her. She suggested that tomorrow we bring back the clothes we wore tonight, rather than carry them around with us. She did ask if I would mind if she showed my outfit to some people. I told her I wouldn’t mind at all, probably Nezzie would be pleased that she wanted to. I’ll get my amulet then. I have never been without it since I was first adopted into the Clan, and it does feel strange not to have it.”
“But you don’t belong to the Clan anymore,” Jondalar said.
“I know, and I never will again. I was cursed with death and can never go back, but the Clan will always be a part of me, and I will never forget them,” she said. “Iza made my first amulet and then asked me to choose a piece of red ochre to put in it.… I wish she could have been here. She would have been so happy for me. All of the things in my amulet are important to me, they mark important moments in my life. They were given to me by my totem, the Spirit of the Cave Lion, who has always protected me. If I ever lost my amulet, I would die,” she said with absolute surety.
It made Jondalar realize how important the amulet was to her, and how much her mating meant for her to take it off, but he didn’t like the idea that she believed she would die if she ever lost it. “Isn’t that just superstition? The superstition of the Clan?”
“No more than your elandon, Jondalar. Marthona recognized that. The amulet holds my spirit, that’s how my totem can find me. When I was adopted by the Lion Camp, it didn’t take away my life with the Clan. It added to it. That’s why Mamut added my totem to my formal name. Now that I have become a member of the Ninth Cave, it hasn’t changed the fact that I’m still Ayla of the Mamutoi. It just made my name longer,” she said, then she smiled. “Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, formerly of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth, Chosen by the Spirit of the Cave Lion, Protected by the Cave Bear, Friend of horses and Wolf … and mated to Jondalar of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii. If my name gets much longer, I won’t be able to remember it all.”
“Just so long as you remember the last part, mated to Jondalar of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii,” he said, reaching over and gently fondling a nipple, watching it draw together and harden in response to his touch. She felt a tingle of pleasure.
“Let’s get these thongs off,” Jondalar said. “They are getting in my way.”
Ayla bent over their wrists and tried to pick apart the knots, but only her left hand was free, and she was right-handed and felt clumsy trying to pull apart knots with only one hand, and her left one at that.
“You are going to have to help me, Jondalar,” she said. “I’m not very good at untying knots with just my left hand. It would be much easier to cut it.”
“Don’t even say that!” Jondalar said. “I never want to sever the knot from you. I want to be tied to you for the rest of my life.”
“I already am, and will always be, thong or not,” Ayla said, “but you’re right. I think this is meant to be a challenge. Let me see that knot again.” She studied it for a while, then said, “Look, if you will hold this, I will pull that, and I think it will come undone. It’s that kind of knot.”
He did as she said, she pulled, and the knot came apart.
“How did you know it would do that? I know something about knots and it wasn’t obvious,” Jondalar said.
“You’ve seen my medicine bag,” she said. He nodded. “You know all the pouches inside are tied with knots. The kind of knot and how many there are tell me something about what is inside the pouch. Sometimes those pouches need to be opened fast. I can’t be fumbling with trying to open knots when someone needs attention right away. I know about knots, Iza taught me long ago.”
“Well, I’m glad you do,” he said, holding up the long, slender thong. “I am going to put this in my pack so it doesn’t get lost. We have to show that it wasn’t cut, and exchange it for our zelandonia necklaces when we go back.” He rolled it up, tucked it away, and then turned his attention entirely to Ayla. “This is the way I like to hold you when I kiss you,” he said, putting both arms around her and filling them with her.
“That’s the way I like it, too,” she said.
He kissed her mouth, opening hers with his tongue, and reached for a breast. Then he pushed her back onto the furs and bent over to take the nipple into his mouth. She felt herself respond instantly, and the intensity of the sensations increased as he sucked and lightly bit on one nipple and caressed the other with his fingers.
She pushed him back and started pulling up the white tunic she had made for him. “What are you going to do when the baby comes, Jondalar? They’ll be so full of milk.”
“I promise not to steal too much, but you can be sure I’m going to taste it,” he said, smiling, then he pulled his tunic off over his head. “You’ve had one child. Does it feel the same when a baby sucks?”
She thought about it. “No, not exactly,” she said. “It’s pleasurable to nurse a baby, after the first few days. The baby sucks so hard, it makes the nipples sore at first, before they get used to it. But I didn’t get the same feelings deep inside me when I nursed a baby that I do when you suck. Sometimes when you just touch, I can feel it all the way down. That never happens with a baby.”
“I can feel it down inside me just looking at you sometimes,” he said. He took off the belt cinched around her waist, then opened her tunic and rubbed her slightly rounded stomach and caressed her inner thighs. He liked just touching her. He helped her slip out of her open tunic. She untied the thongs from around her waist and removed the rest of her clothes, then helped him untie his tightly wrapped foot coverings.
“I was so happy to see you wearing the tunic I made for you, Jondalar,” Ayla said.
He picked up the tunic that he had dropped on his bedroll, turned it inside out, and, folding it together, laid it carefully on top of his back frame before he began to unwrap his leggings. Ayla took off her amber-and-shell necklace and removed her earrings—her ears were still a little sore from the recent piercing—and put the jewelry away in her pack. She did not want to lose it. When she turned around, she noticed that Jondalar, who couldn’t stand i
n the tent, was stooping on one foot, pulling off his leggings, but his swollen member was more than ready. She couldn’t resist reaching for it, which unbalanced him. He fell over on the furs, both of them laughing.
“How am I supposed to get these off with you so eager?” he said, pushing off the remaining legging with his other foot and kicking them out of the way. Then he stretched out beside her on the sleeping furs. “When did you make that tunic for me?” he asked, raising up on one elbow so he could look at her. His deep, rich blue eyes were dark, with only hints of blue in the single flame, dilated and glowing as he looked at her with love and longing.
“When we were staying with the Lion Camp,” she said.
“But you were Promised to Ranec that winter. Why were you making a tunic for me?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “I think I was hoping. And then I got a strange idea. I remembered that you said you wanted to capture my spirit when you made that little carving of me in the valley, and I was hoping that I could somehow capture your spirit if I made something for you. That time everyone was talking about black animals and white animals, you said that white was special to you. So when Crozie agreed to teach me how to make white leather, I decided to make something for you. Whenever I worked on it, I thought of you. I think I was happiest that winter when I was working on it. I even imagined seeing you wearing it at a mating ceremony. Making it kept my hope alive. That’s why I carried it with me on the Journey back.”
He almost felt his eyes grow moist.
“I’m sorry it isn’t decorated. I was never very good at sewing on beads and things. I started to do it a few times, but I always seemed to get interrupted. I did get some ermine tails on it. I wanted to get more, but never got back to do it that winter. Maybe next winter I can go out and find some more,” she said.
“It was perfect, Ayla. Just the white color was decoration enough. Everyone thought you left it undecorated on purpose, and they were so impressed. Marthona told me she liked the way you were not afraid to let quality and good workmanship be its own decoration. I think you are going to be seeing some white tunics around,” he said.
“When Marthona said I wouldn’t be able to see you or talk to you until after the ceremony, I was ready to break every Zelandonii custom there was just to give it to you. That’s when Marthona said she would do it, although I think she thought even that was too much contact. But I didn’t know if you liked it, and I didn’t know if you would understand why I wanted you to wear it.”
“How could I have been so stupid and blind that winter? I loved you so much. I wanted you so much. Every time you went to Ranec’s bed, I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t sleep, I’d hear every sound. That’s why I took you that day out on the steppe when we went out to train Racer. I could feel every movement of your body when we rode out together on Whinney. Can you ever forgive me for forcing you like that?”
“I kept trying to tell you, but you never would listen. You didn’t force me, Jondalar. Couldn’t you tell how quickly I responded? How could you think you forced me? That was my happiest day all winter. I dreamed about it afterward for days. Every time I closed my eyes I could feel you and want you again, but you wouldn’t come back.”
He kissed her then, suddenly hungry for her. Then he couldn’t wait. He was on top of her, pushing her legs apart, finding her warm, moist well and thrusting deep, feeling her warmth caressing his manhood. She was ready for him. She felt him penetrate and strained to meet him, and moaned as she felt his fullness inside her own engorged depths. He pulled back and entered again and again. As the pace quickened, she arched to force the pressure where she wanted it. There. That was right. She was so ready. So was he. Jondalar felt that he would burst with his fullness, and then, every nerve straining, aware of nothing else, the wondrous waves of Pleasure engulfed them both, bursting forth in glorious release. He thrust again a few more times, then collapsed on top of her.
“I love you, Ayla. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you. I will always love you, only you,” he said, holding her tight, his voice sounding strained with the intensity of his feeling.
“Oh, Jondalar. I love you, too. I always have.” There were tears in the corners of her eyes, partly from the fullness of her love for him, partly from the tension so quickly mounted and so suddenly released.
They lay quietly for a while in the light of the flickering lamp, then he raised up and slowly extracted his spent organ and rolled over to his side. He put his hand on her stomach again.
“I thought I might be too heavy for you. I don’t think I should put too much weight on you now,” he said.
“You are not heavy yet,” she said. “Later we can worry about finding ways to make it easier, when the baby starts to grow more.”
“Is it true that you can feel the life moving inside you?”
“Not yet, but before long I will. You will be able to feel it, too. You just have to put your hand on my stomach like that.”
“I think I’m glad you’ve already had one child. You know what to expect.”
“But it’s not exactly the same. I was really sick when I was carrying Durc, almost all the time.”
“How are you feeling now?” he asked, his worry frown evident.
“I feel wonderful. Even in the beginning I hardly had any sickness at all, and now that is gone.”
They were quiet then for a long time. Jondalar wondered if she had fallen asleep. He was just feeling like beginning again, taking more time, but if she was sleeping …
“I wonder how he is?” she suddenly said. “My son.”
“Do you miss him?”
“Sometimes I miss him so much, I don’t know what to do. At the meeting of the zelandonia, Zelandoni sang the Mother’s Song. I love that story. Whenever I hear it, I feel like crying when they come to the part about the Great Mother not being able to have Her son at Her side, how they are forever apart. I think I know how She felt. Even if I never see him again, I just wish I knew how he was, if he’s all right. How Broud and the others have treated him,” Ayla said. She was quiet again.
Her words set Jondalar thinking. “In the song it says the Great Mother struggled in pain to give birth. Is it very painful?”
“He was hard to deliver. I don’t like to think about it. But, like the Mother’s Song says, he was worth it.”
“Are you afraid, Ayla? Afraid to give birth again?” he asked.
“A little. But I feel so good this time, maybe this delivery won’t be so bad, either.”
“I don’t know how women do it.”
“We do it because it’s worth it, Jondalar. I wanted Durc so much, and then they told me he was deformed, that I couldn’t keep him.” She started to cry. Jondalar held her. “It was so awful. I just couldn’t do it. At least with the Zelandonii, the mother has the choice. No one will ever try to force me.”
They heard wolves howling in the distance, and another answering that was close by, but that howl was familiar. Wolf was nearby, but not in the tent with them. “I wonder if he will leave me, too,” she said.
She buried her head in his shoulder. Jondalar held her, comforted her. It is difficult being the honored of Doni, he thought. A blessing, but still … He tried to imagine what it would feel like to have a life growing inside him, but it was beyond him. Men did not have babies. Why did Doni make men, anyway? If there were no men, the women would be able to take care of themselves. Women are not all pregnant at the same time. Some of them could hunt and some could help the others when their bellies were big or their babies were small. Women always help each other when they give birth. They could probably survive even without hunting. Gathering is easier for a woman with small children anyway.
He had asked himself that question before, and wondered if other men ever asked themselves the same question. If they did, it was not something they ever mentioned out loud. Doni must have had some reason for making two kinds of people. There always seemed to be logic in what She did. The world was orderly. The
sun rose every day, the moon went through its phases regularly, the seasons followed each other the same way every year.
Could Ayla be right? Was a man necessary for life to begin? Is that why there are both men and women? Jondalar struggled with his thoughts as he held the woman in his arms. He wanted there to be a reason for his existence, a real reason. Not just to enjoy Pleasures, not just to provide or help or support. He wanted his life to be necessary, his gender to be necessary. He wanted to believe that there would be no new life without men, that without men there would be no more children, that all of Earth’s Children would no longer exist.
He was so deep in thought, he didn’t notice when Ayla’s sobs ceased. He looked at her and smiled. She was breathing quietly, sound asleep. It had been a long day, she had gotten up early. He eased his arm out from under her, flexed it to restore circulation, and yawned widely. He was tired himself. He got up to extinguish the moss-wick flame of the oil lamp and felt his way in the darkness back to the sleeping woman and crawled in beside her.
In the morning, when Jondalar opened his eyes, it took him a moment to orient himself. He had grown accustomed to sleeping in the lodge at the camp; the inside of the tent was much closer. But the tent was even more familiar. They had slept in it together for a year. Then he remembered. They were mated last night. Ayla was his mate. He reached to his side, but she was gone. Then he smelled something cooking on the fire outside. He sat up and, without thinking about it, reached for his cup and was surprised to find it there, full of hot mint tea. He took a sip. It was just the temperature he liked, and beside the cup was a freshly peeled wintergreen twig. She had done it again, anticipated what he liked in the morning and had it ready for him. He still didn’t know how she did it.
He took another drink, then pushed back the sleeping furs and got up. Ayla was with the horses, and Wolf was there, too. He swished out his mouth, chewed on the end of the twig and used it to clean his teeth, and swished his mouth once more, then swallowed the last of the tea. He reached for his clothes, then decided it didn’t matter, no one else was around, and walked to her naked. She smiled at him and glanced at his organ. That was all it took, it started to grow. Her smile became a mischievous grin. He just smiled back.