by Jean M. Auel
Jonayla, tied to her mother's back with the carrying blanket, squirmed to see to whom she was talking. 'I think Jonayla wants to greet you, too,' Ayla said, loosening her blanket and shifting her around to the front. The baby sat wide-eyed in her mother's arms looking at the young man; then suddenly she smiled and held out her arms to him. Ayla was surprised.
He smiled back. 'Can I hold her? I know how. I have a sister a little older than her,' Matagan said.
And he's probably homesick and lonesome for her already, Ayla thought, as she handed Jonayla to him. It was obvious that he was comfortable holding a baby. 'Do you have many brothers and sisters?' she asked.
'I guess so. She's the youngest, I'm the oldest, and there are four in between, including two born together,' he said.
'I think you must be quite a help to your mother. She is going to miss you. How many years do you count?' she said.
'I'm a thirteen-year,' he said. He became aware of her unusual accent again. When he had first heard the foreign woman speak, the year before, he had thought her accent was quite strange, but when he was recovering, especially when he woke up after the accident and was in so much pain, he grew to look forward to that accent because she invariably brought some relief. And although the other Zelandonia also checked on him, she came regularly, and stayed to talk to him and straighten his bedding to make him comfortable, as well as giving him medicine.
'And you have reached your manhood and had your rites last summer,' a voice behind Ayla said. It was Jondalar, who had been hearing the conversation as he approached them. The style of Matagan's clothing, the patterns that had been sewn on them, and the beads and jewellery he wore told Jondalar that the youngster was considered a man of the Fifth Cave of the Zelandonii.
'Yes, last summer at the Meeting,' Matagan said. 'Before I was hurt.'
'Now that you are a man, it's time for you to learn a skill. Have you done much flint-knapping?'
'Some. I can make a spear point and a knife, or re-shape one that is broken. They aren't the best, but they work,' the boy said.
'Perhaps the question I should ask is, do you like working the flint?' Jondalar said.
'I like it when it goes right. Sometimes it doesn't.'
Jondalar smiled. 'Even for me, sometimes it doesn't,' he said. 'Have you eaten?'
'I just finished,' Matagan said.
'Well, we haven't yet,' Jondalar said. 'We just got back from a short trip to see some of our neighbours and find out if they suffered any injuries or damage from the earthquake. You know that Ayla is Acolyte to the First, don't you?'
'I think everyone knows that,' he said, shifting Jonayla around to lean against his shoulder.
'Did you feel the earthquake?' Ayla asked. 'Was anyone in your travelling party hurt?'
'We felt it. Some people were knocked down, but no one was really hurt,' he said. 'I think everyone was scared, though. I know I was.'
'I can't think of anyone who wouldn't be afraid during an earthquake. We'll get something to eat; then we'll show you where you can stay. We haven't set anything up special, yet, but we'll work it out later,' Jondalar said as they headed toward the other side of the shelter where people were gathered.
Ayla reached for Jonayla.
'I can hold her while you get some food,' Matagan said. 'If she'll let me.'
'Let's see if she will,' Ayla said, turning toward the firepit where the food had been set out. Suddenly Wolf appeared. He had stopped for water when they reached the Ninth Cave, and then found that someone had put some food in his bowl. Matagan's eyes opened wider with surprise, but he had seen the wolf before and he didn't seem overly frightened of the animal. Ayla had introduced the wolf to Matagan the year before when she was taking care of him, and the animal sniffed the young man who was holding the baby of his pack, and recognised his scent. When the boy sat down, the wolf sat down beside him. Jonayla seemed happy with the arrangement.
By the time they finished eating, it was getting dark. There were always some prepared torches ready for lighting near the main fire where the group often gathered and Jondalar took one and lit it. They all had travelling gear with them — backframes, sleeping rolls, travelling tents. Jondalar helped Ayla with some of hers, while she carried the baby, but Matagan seemed to be able to handle his own, including a sturdy staff that he sometimes used to walk with. He didn't seem to need it all the time. Ayla suspected he had used it on the long walk from the Sun View, the place of the Summer Meeting, to the Ninth Cave, but probably could get by just fine for shorter distances.
When they reached their dwelling, Jondalar went in first, lighting the way, and held open the drape across the entrance. Matagan went in next, followed by Ayla.
'Why don't you set up your sleeping roll here in the main room near the fire for now. We'll work out something better tomorrow,' Jondalar said, suddenly wondering how long Matagan would be living with them.
Chapter 18
'Matagan, have you seen Jonayla and Jondalar?' Ayla called out when she saw the young man walking with a limp, coming out of the addition that had been built next to her dwelling. There were three youths living there now: Matagan; Jonfilar, who had come from the west, near the Great Waters, and Garthadal, whose mother was the leader of his Cave, and had travelled with him from far to the southeast because she had heard of Jondalar's skill.
After four years, Matagan was the most senior of Jondalar's apprentices and had gained so much proficiency that he was helping the man train the younger ones. He could have gone back to the Fifth Cave, or almost any other Cave, as an experienced flint-knapper in his own right, but by now he thought of the Ninth Cave as his home and preferred to stay and work with his mentor.
'I saw them earlier heading toward the horse surround. I think I heard him promise her yesterday that he would take her riding today if it didn't rain. She's getting good at riding Grey, as little as she is, even if she can't get on or off by herself yet.'
Ayla smiled to herself with the memory of Jondalar riding Racer with Jonayla sitting in front of him before she was even walking, and they both trained Grey with the child on her back in front of them, her little arms hugging the mare's thick neck. The young girl and the young mare grew up with each other, and Ayla thought the tie between them was as close as the one between Whinney and herself. Jonayla was good with all the horses, including the stallion — in some ways even better than her mother because she learned to direct him using the halter and lead rope, the way Jondalar did. Ayla still directed Whinney using body language and wasn't as comfortable riding a horse using Jondalar's technique.
'When they come back, would you tell Jondalar I'll be late tonight. I may not be back until morning. Do you know about the man who fell off the cliff near The Crossing this morning?' Ayla said.
'Yes. A visitor?' Matagan said.
'A neighbour from New Home. He used to be with the Seventh Cave; now he lives at Bear Hill. I can't understand why anybody would try to climb High Rock when it's so wet from all the rain. Mud has been sliding down some of the steeper slopes; it was probably muddy up there, too,' Ayla said. This has been a wet spring, she thought. Springs have been more wet ever since we had that cold winter that Marthona predicted a few years ago.
'How is he?' Matagan asked. He knew what it was like to suffer the consequences of poor judgment.
'He's seriously hurt. Broken bones and I don't know what else. I'm afraid Zelandoni will be up all night with him. I'll be staying to help her,' Ayla said.
'With you and the First there, I'm sure he's getting the best care possible,' Matagan said, then smiled. 'And I speak from experience.'
Ayla smiled back. 'I hope so. A runner was sent to tell his family. They should be arriving soon. Proleva is making a meal for them and some others at the main hearth. I'm sure there will be enough for you and the boys, and Jondalar and Jonayla, too,' she added as she turned to hurry back.
She found herself still thinking about Jonayla and the animals as she walked back. When she h
ad to be away, Wolf sometimes stayed with Jonayla, sometimes with her. If she went with Zelandoni to help someone at another Cave, Wolf usually came with her, but when she had to make 'sacrifices' and endure 'tests' as part of her training — go without sleep, give up Pleasures, fast for periods of time — she usually went alone.
She often stayed at the small shelter called the Little Hollow of Fountain Rocks, which was comfortable enough. It was right next to the Deep of Fountain Rocks, sometimes called Doni's Deep, the long cave that was the first sacred site she saw when she came to live with the Zelandonii. Fountain Rocks was about a mile away from the Ninth Cave, plus a gentle-sloped but long climb up the cliff. The long painted cave had other names, especially to the zelandonia such as Entrance to the Womb of the Mother or the Mother's Birth Canal. It was the most sacred site in their immediate region.
Jondalar wasn't always happy when she had to be away, but he never minded taking care of Jonayla, and Ayla was glad for both of them that they were developing such a close relationship. He had even started teaching her to knap flint alongside his apprentices.
Ayla's musings were cut short when she noticed two women walking toward her on her way back, Marona and her cousin. Wylopa nodded in greeting and smiled whenever she saw her, and though it always looked insincere, Ayla smiled back. Marona usually acknowledged her only with the briefest of nods and Ayla responded in kind. The woman didn't even do that much if no one else was around, but this time Marona did smile at her. It made Ayla look at her again. It was in no way a pleasant smile. It was more like a sneer, a gloating sneer.
Ever since her return, Ayla couldn't help but wonder why Marona had moved back to the Ninth Cave. She thought the Fifth Cave had accepted her well enough, and the woman had been known to remark when she moved there that she liked it better. I like it better when she's there, too, Ayla thought.
It wasn't just because Marona and Jondalar had once been a couple. Rather that no one had been more malicious and spiteful to her, beginning with the trick of the boys' winter underwear so people would laugh at her. But Ayla had faced the laughter down and gained the respect of the Ninth Cave. Now, particularly when she was riding Whinney, she often wore a similar outfit on purpose, and so did many other women, much to Marona's vexation. Light leggings and a sleeveless tunic in soft leather were quite comfortable to wear when the days were mild.
Ayla had heard talk from some of Matagan's visiting relatives that Marona had angered some high-status women of the Fifth Cave, kin of Kemordan, the leader, or his mate, for persuading a man who was Promised to one of them to run away with her instead. With her nearly white blond hair and dark grey eyes, she was an attractive woman, though Ayla thought the lines of the frown she wore so often were beginning to etch themselves more deeply on her face. Just like most of her relationships, the liaison didn't last very long, and after claiming his regret and making satisfactory reparations, he was accepted back, but she was looked upon with less favour. As Ayla neared Zelandoni's dwelling, her musings slipped into the back of her mind as thoughts of the injured man filled it.
Later in the evening, when she stepped out of the Donier's abode, which was both her home and an infirmary, she saw Jondalar sitting next to Joharran, Proleva, and Marthona. They had finished their meal and were sipping tea, watching Jonayla and Proleva's daughter, Sethona. Jonayla was a happy, healthy child and very pretty, everyone said, with fine, very light soft curly hair and Jondalar's extraordinarily vivid blue eyes. To Ayla, Jonayla was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, but growing up in the Clan had taught her to be reticent in expressing such thoughts about her own child. It could bring bad luck, and when she tried to look at it objectively, she believed she was bound to feel that way about her own offspring, but in her heart, she could hardly believe such an amazing child could be hers.
Sethona, Jonayla's close cousin, born only a few days before her and a constant playmate, was grey-eyed with dark blond hair. Ayla thought she resembled Marthona; she already showed elements of the former leader's dignity and grace, and her clear direct gaze. Ayla turned her attention to Joharran and Jondalar's mother. Marthona was showing her age, her hair was more grey, her face more lined, but it wasn't just her physical appearance. She wasn't well and that worried Ayla. She and Zelandoni had discussed her situation, and every possible remedy and treatment they could think of to help her, but they both knew there was no way to keep Marthona from walking in the next world someday; they could only hope to delay it.
Though she had lost her own mother, Ayla felt herself lucky to have had Iza, the Clan medicine woman as the mother who raised her as a girl, with Creb the Mog-ur as the man of her hearth. Nezzie of the Mamutoi was the mother who wanted to adopt her into the Lion Camp, although the Mamut of the Mammoth Hearth had done it instead. Jondalar's mother had treated Ayla like a daughter from the first, and she thought of Marthona as her mother, her Zelandonii mother. She felt close to Zelandoni as well, but she was more a mentor and friend.
Wolf was watching the girls, his head down on his front paws. He had noticed Ayla when she approached, but when she didn't immediately join them, he raised his head and looked at her, which caused everyone else to look, too. That made Ayla aware that she had been so lost in thought she had stopped walking. She continued toward them.
'How is he?' Joharran asked when she neared.
'It is still hard to know. We've put splints on the broken bones in his legs and arm, but we don't know what may be broken inside. He still breathes, but he hasn't roused. His mate and mother are in with him now,' Ayla said. 'Zelandoni feels she should stay with them, but I think someone could bring her something to eat, which might encourage his family to come out and eat, too.'
'I'll take her the food and try to persuade them to come out here,' Proleva said, getting up and walking toward the stack of visitors' dishes. She took an ivory plate, which had been flaked off a large mammoth tusk and smoothed with sandstone rocks, and selected some slices of meat from the whole mountain goat kid that had been roasted on a spit. It was rare treat. Several hunters from the Ninth and neighbouring Caves had gone ibex hunting, and had had some luck. Proleva added some leafy greens and lightly cooked spring stalks of new thistle and roots of some kind, then carried it to the entrance of Zelandoni's dwelling and scratched at the exposed side of a piece of rawhide next to the heavy leather drape across the entrance. A moment later she went in. Not long after, she walked out with the mate and mother of the injured man, brought them to the main hearth, and gave them visitor plates.
'I should go back in,' Ayla said, looking at Jondalar. 'Did Matagan tell you I will probably be late tonight?'
'Yes. I'll put Jonayla to bed,' he said, standing and picking up the child. He embraced the woman, touching cheeks, while Ayla held them both close.
'I rode Grey today,' Jonayla said. 'Jonde took me out. He rode Racer. Whinney came too, but she didn't have anyone to ride her. Why didn't you come, mama?'
'I wish I could have, Baby,' Ayla said, hugging them both again. Her pet name for her child was similar to the word for 'baby' that she had called the injured lion cub she had once found, nursed back to health, and then raised. It was a modification of the Clan word for infant or little one. 'But a man fell down and got hurt today. Zelandoni has been trying to make him feel better, and I've been helping her.'
'When he gets better, will you come?' Jonayla said.
'Yes, when he gets better, I will come riding with you,' Ayla said, thinking, if he gets better. Then she turned to Jondalar. 'Why don't you take Wolf with you, too.' She had noticed the mate of the man eyeing the animal warily. Everyone knew about the wolf and most had seen him, at least from a distance, but not everyone had tried to find a place to sit and eat with him nearby. The woman had also been looking askance at Ayla, especially after hearing the word she had used to refer to her child. Even modified, the word had a distinctly strange and unfamiliar sound.
After Jondalar left with Jonayla and Wolf, Ayla went back into Zela
ndoni's dwelling. 'Has there been any improvement in Jacharal?' she asked.
'Not that I've been able to see,' the One Who Was First said. She was glad the two women relatives had gone out so she could speak frankly. 'Sometimes people languish in this condition for quite a while. If someone can manage to get them to take in water and food, they last longer, but if not they are gone within days. It's as though the spirit is confused, the elan is not sure if it wants to leave this world while the body still breathes, even if the rest of the body is damaged beyond repair. Sometimes they wake up, but may not be able to move, or some part of them won't move or doesn't heal right. Occasionally, given enough time, some people will heal from a fall like that, but most often they don't.'
'Has he lost fluid from his nose or ears?' Ayla asked.
'Not since he's been here. There is an injury to his head, but it doesn't seem very deep, just a few superficial scratches. He has so many broken bones, I'm guessing his real damage is internal. I'll watch him tonight.'
'I'll stay with you. Jondalar took Jonayla, and Wolf, with him. This man's mate seemed uncomfortable around Wolf,' Ayla said. 'I thought most people were used to him by now.'
'I suspect she hasn't had time to get used to your wolf. She's not from here; Amelana is her name. Jacharal's mother told me the story. He went on a Journey to the south, mated her there, and brought her back with him. I'm not even sure if she was born in Zelandonii territory or only near it. The borders of territories are not always clear. She seems to speak it well enough, though with that southern inflection, a little like Beladora, Kimeran's mate.'
'What a shame, to come all the way here, and then possibly lose her man. I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to Jondalar right after I got here, or even now,' Ayla said, shuddering at the thought.
'You would stay here and become a Zelandoni, just as you are now. You said yourself, you don't really have anyplace to go back to. You're not going to make the long Journey all the way back to the Mamutoi alone, and weren't you adopted by them? You're more than adopted here. You belong. You are Zelandonii,' the woman said.