The Land of Painted Caves

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The Land of Painted Caves Page 11

by Jean M. Auel


  When she offered her breast, the baby went for it eagerly. Since her own mother’s milk had dried up more than a year before, many other women had taken turns feeding her and she was used to taking milk from any woman who offered. She also ate different kinds of solid food that Ayla had taught Lanoga to make for her. Considering her difficult beginning, Lorala was a remarkably healthy, happy, gregarious, though somewhat undersized child. The women who fed her took a certain pride in her good health and good nature, knowing that they had contributed to it. Ayla knew that they had kept the baby alive, but Proleva knew it was Ayla’s idea originally, after she discovered that Tremeda’s milk had dried up.

  Ayla, Proleva, and Marthona found some additional skins and furs that they didn’t mind giving up for the children to use as sleep coverings, and more food. Willamar, Jondalar, and Bologan collected some wood.

  The structure was nearly finished when Jondalar noticed Laramar coming. He stopped some ways back, and stared at the small summer lodge, frowning.

  “Where did this thing come from?” he asked Bolagan.

  “We built it,” the boy said.

  “You didn’t build it by yourselves,” Laramar said.

  “No, we helped him,” Jondalar interjected, “since you weren’t here to do it, Laramar.”

  “No one asked you to butt in,” Laramar sneered.

  “Those children had no place to sleep!” Ayla said.

  “Where’s Tremeda? They’re her children; she’s supposed to see to them,” Laramar said.

  “She left after you did, chasing after you,” Jondalar said.

  “Then she’s the one who left them, not me,” Laramar said.

  “They are the children of your hearth; they are your responsibility,” Jondalar said with disgust, struggling to contain his anger, “and you left them without shelter.”

  “They had the traveling tent,” Laramar said.

  “The leather of your traveling tent was rotten. After it got soaked, it fell apart,” Ayla said. “They had no food either, and several of them are hardly more than babies!”

  “I assumed Tremeda would get some food for them,” Laramar said.

  “And you wonder why you are the lowest ranked,” Jondalar said with scorn and a look of disgust.

  Wolf was aware that something seriously distressing was going on between the people of his pack and the man he didn’t like. He wrinkled his nose and started growling at Laramar, who jumped back to stay out of his way.

  “Who are you to tell me what to do?” Laramar said. He was now getting defensive. “I shouldn’t be the lowest ranked. It’s your fault, Jondalar. You’re the one who suddenly came back from a Journey with a foreign woman and you and your mother connive to put her ahead of me. I was born here; she wasn’t. She should be the lowest ranked. Some people may think she’s special, but anybody who lived with Flatheads is not special. She’s an abomination, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. I don’t have to put up with you, Jondalar, or your insults,” Laramar said, then turned and stomped off.

  Ayla and Jondalar looked at each other after Laramar left. “Is there truth in what he says?” Ayla asked. “Should I be ranked lowest because I am a foreigner?”

  “No,” Willamar said. “You brought your own bride price with you. Your Matrimonial outfit alone would put you among those with the highest status in any Cave you might choose, but you have also shown yourself to be a worthwhile and valuable person in your own right. Even if you had started out as a low-ranked foreigner, you wouldn’t have stayed there for long. Don’t let Laramar concern you about your place with us; everyone knows what his status is. Leaving these children alone to fend for themselves with no food or shelter bears it out.”

  As the builders of the small summer dwelling prepared to return to their own lodge, Bologan touched Jondalar’s arm. When he turned back, Bologan looked down, and his face became a deep shade of red, noticeable even in the firelight.

  “I … ah … just want to say, this place is nice, the best summer lodge we ever had,” Bologan said, then quickly went in.

  As they were walking back, Willamar said, under his breath, “I think Bologan was trying to thank you, Jondalar. I’m not sure if he has ever thanked anyone before. I’m not sure he knows how.”

  “I think you are right, Willamar. But he did just fine.”

  The morning dawned clear and bright and after the morning meal, and checking to see that the horses were comfortable, Ayla and Jondalar were eager to go to the Main Camp to see who was there. Ayla wrapped Jonayla in her carrying cloak and settled her on a hip, then signaled Wolf to come with her, and set out. It was a bit of a walk, but not bad, Ayla decided. And she did like having a place that was somewhat out of the way, when she wanted it.

  People started hailing them as soon as they appeared, and it pleased Ayla that she recognized so many, unlike the summer before when she hardly knew anyone, and even those she had met, she didn’t know well. Though most Caves looked forward to seeing certain friends and relatives every year, because they regularly changed locations for the Summer Meetings, and other groups of Zelandonii did the same, there usually was some difference in the mix of Caves from year to year that gathered at any particular place.

  Ayla saw some people whom she was sure she had not seen before; they tended to be the ones who stared at Wolf, but the animal was welcomed with a smile or a greeting by many, especially children. He stayed close to Ayla, however, who was carrying the baby for whom he had a special affection. Large groups that included strangers were difficult for him. His instinct to protect his pack had grown more compelling as he matured, and various incidents in his life had reinforced it. In a sense, the Ninth Cave became his pack, and the territory they inhabited became the area he watched, but he couldn’t protect the entire large group, much less the many additional people whom Ayla had “introduced” to him. He had learned not to treat them with hostility, but they were too many to fit into his instinctive conception of a pack. Instead, he decided that the people he knew were close to Ayla were his pack, the ones he was required to protect, especially the new young one he adored.

  Though she had visited with them shortly before they left, Ayla was especially glad to see Janida with her baby and Levela. They were talking with Tishona. Marthona had told her that people often formed especially close friendships with the couples with whom they shared their Matrimonial, and it was true. She was glad to see all three women, and they all greeted Ayla and Jondalar, embracing each other and touching cheeks. Tishona had become so used to seeing the wolf, she hardly noticed him, but the other two, who still felt a little fear around him, took special pains to greet him, even if they didn’t try to touch him.

  Janida and Ayla fussed over each other’s babies, talking about how much they had grown, and how wonderful they looked. Ayla noticed that Levela had also grown.

  “Levela, you look like your baby will come any time,” Ayla said.

  “I hope so. I’m ready,” Levela said.

  “Since we’re all here, I can come and be with you when you have your baby, if you would like. And your sister Proleva can be with you, too,” Ayla said.

  “And our mother is here. I was so glad to see her. You’ve met Velima, haven’t you?” Levela said.

  “Yes,” Ayla said. “But I don’t know her well.”

  “Where are Jondecam, Peridal, and Marsheval?” Jondalar asked.

  “Marsheval went with Solaban to look for an old woman who knows a lot about carving ivory,” Tishona said.

  “Jondecam and Peridal were looking for you,” Levela said. “They couldn’t find you last night.”

  “That’s not surprising, since we weren’t here last night,” Jondalar said.

  “You weren’t? But I saw many people from the Ninth Cave,” Levela said.

  “We stayed at our camp,” Jondalar said.

  “Yes,” Ayla said. “We were helping Bologan and Lanoga build a summer lodge.”

  Jondalar felt a twinge of indiscret
ion on her part when Ayla so openly revealed what he thought of as the confidential problems of their Cave. Not that there was anything expressly wrong with talking about them. It was just that he had been raised by a leader and knew how personally most leaders took unresolved situations within their Cave that they hadn’t been able to settle. Laramar and Tremeda had been an embarrassment to the Ninth Cave for some time. Neither Marthona nor Joharran had been able to do much about them. They had lived there many years, and had the right to stay. As he suspected, Ayla’s statement brought curious queries.

  “Bologan and Lanoga? Aren’t they Tremeda’s children?” Levela said. “Why were you building their summer lodge?”

  “Where were Laramar and Tremeda?” Tishona asked.

  “They got in a fight, Laramar decided to move to a fa’lodge, Tremeda went after him, and didn’t return,” Ayla explained.

  “I think I saw her,” Janida said.

  “Where?” Ayla asked.

  “I think she was with some men who were drinking barma and gaming at the edge of the camp, near some of the men’s far lodges,” Janida said. She spoke softly, and seemed shy about speaking out. She shifted her baby and looked at him for a moment before she continued. “There were a couple of other women there, too. I remember being surprised to see Tremeda because I knew she had some little ones. I don’t think those other women had young children.”

  “Tremeda has six children, the youngest little more than a one-year. The oldest sister, Lanoga, takes care of them, and she’s barely an eleven-year, herself,” Ayla said, trying to contain herself, but her irritation was obvious. “I think her brother, Bologan, tries to help, but he’s only a thirteen-year. They were trying to put up a tent for themselves last night when we walked past on our way here. But it was wet and falling apart, and they didn’t have any materials for a summer lodge. So we stayed and built one for them.”

  “You built a summer lodge by yourselves? With nothing but local materials?” Tishona said, looking at them with awe.

  “It was a small one,” Jondalar said, with a smile. “Just enough for their family. No one is sharing with them.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Levela said, “but it is a shame. Those youngsters could use someone to help.”

  “The Cave helps,” Tishona said, in defense of the Ninth Cave, of which she was now a member. “The other mothers even take turns nursing the baby.”

  “I was wondering about that when you said Tremeda didn’t return and the youngest was little more than a one-year,” Levela said.

  “Tremeda ran dry a year ago,” Ayla said.

  It happens when you don’t nurse enough, she thought, but didn’t say it aloud. There were reasons, sometimes good ones, for a mother’s milk to dry up. She recalled when she had grieved so much after the death of her Clan mother, Iza, that she was oblivious to the needs of her own son. The other nursing mothers of Brun’s clan had been willing to feed Durc, but in her heart she would never quite get over it.

  The other women of the Clan understood more than she that it was as much Creb’s fault as anyone’s. When Durc cried to be fed, instead of putting him in his grieving mother’s arms and letting him rouse her, he brought the baby to one of the other women to be fed. They knew he meant well, he hadn’t wanted to disturb Ayla in her sorrow, and they couldn’t refuse him. But the lack of nursing had made her sick with milk fever, and by the time she recovered, she was dry. Ayla held the baby girl in her arms a little closer.

  “There you are, Ayla!” Proleva said as she approached. She had four other women with her.

  Ayla recognized Beladora and Jayvena, the mates of the leaders of the Second and Seventh Caves, and nodded at them. They acknowledged her as well. She wondered if the other two women were also the mates of leaders. She thought she recognized one of them. The other was drawing back from Wolf.

  “Zelandoni has been looking for you,” Proleva continued. “And several young men have been asking about you, Jondalar. I told them if I saw you, I’d tell you to meet them at Manvelar’s lodge in the camp of the Third Cave.”

  “Proleva, where is the zelandonia lodge?” Ayla asked.

  “Not far from the Third Cave’s camp, right next to the camp of the Twenty-sixth Cave,” Proleva said, pointing in the general direction.

  “I didn’t know the Twenty-sixth had set up a camp,” Jondalar said.

  “Stevadal likes to be in the middle of things,” Proleva said. “His whole Cave isn’t staying at the Meeting Camp, but there are a couple of lodges for those who happen to stay late and want a place to sleep. I’m sure there will be a lot of coming and going, at least until after the First Matrimonial.”

  “When will that be?” Jondalar asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think they’ve decided yet. Maybe Ayla can ask Zelandoni,” Proleva said, as she and the women with her continued on to wherever they were heading when she stopped to pass on the messages.

  Ayla and Jondalar said their farewells and headed toward the camps to which they had been directed. When they neared the camp of the Third Cave, Ayla recognized the large zelandonia lodge with its ancillary lodges close by. Right now, she thought, recalling the Summer Meeting of the year before, the young women who were being prepared for their Rites of First Pleasures were cloistered in one of the special dwellings, while appropriate men were being selected for them. In the other lodge were the women who had decided to wear the red fringe, to be donii-women this season. They had chosen to make themselves available to the young men who were wearing puberty belts, to teach them how to understand a woman’s needs.

  Pleasures were a Gift from the Mother, and the zelandonia considered it a sacred duty to make sure the first experience of young adults was appropriate and educational. It was felt that both young women and young men needed to learn how to appreciate the Mother’s Great Gift properly, and that older, more experienced people needed to demonstrate and explain, to share the Gift with them the first time under the discreet but watchful eyes of the zelandonia. It was a Rite of Passage too important to be left to chance encounters.

  Both ancillary lodges were very well guarded since most men found them almost irresistible. Some men couldn’t even look in the direction of either lodge without feeling aroused. Men, especially young men who had already had their manhood rites but were not yet mated, tried to peek in, and sometimes sneak into the lodge of the young women, and some older men liked to hover around it in hopes of catching a glimpse. Nearly every available man wanted to be selected for a young woman’s First Rites, though there was also a certain anxiety involved if they were. They knew they would be observed and they feared they might not perform well, but there was also a special sense of satisfaction when they did. Most men also had exciting memories of their own donii-women when they first became men.

  But there were restrictions imposed on those who had the important task of sharing and teaching the Mother’s Gift of Pleasure. Neither the selected men nor the donii-women were to have any close ties with the younger ones for a year after the ceremony. They were considered too impressionable, too vulnerable, and not without reason. It wasn’t unusual for a young woman who had had a pleasurable first experience with an older man to want to share it again, even though it was forbidden. After First Rites, she could have any other man she wanted—who also wanted her—but that made her first partner all the more appealing. Jondalar had been chosen often before he went on his Journey, and he had learned to gently evade sometimes persistent young women with whom he’d shared a loving and tender ceremonial experience, who tried to get him alone. But it was, in a sense, easier for the men. Theirs was a single event; one night of special Pleasure.

  The donii-women were expected to be available for the entire summer, or more, especially if they were acolytes. Young men had frequent urges, and it took a while for them to learn that the needs of women were different, their satisfactions more varied. But the donii-women were required to make sure that the young men didn’t form a lasting att
achment, which was sometimes difficult.

  Jondalar’s donii-woman was The First, when she was known as Zolena, and she had taught him well. Later, after he returned to the Ninth Cave after spending several years with Dalanar, he was often chosen. But at the time of his puberty, he became so enamored of Zolena, he would choose none of the other donii-women. More, he wanted her to be his mate, even though there was an age difference. The difficulty was that she also developed strong feelings for the tall, handsome, extremely charismatic young man with the pale blond hair and unusually vivid blue eyes, and that had created problems for both of them.

  When they reached Manvelar’s lodge, they knocked on a wood panel near the entrance, and speaking in a louder voice, said who they were. He called to them to come in.

  “Wolf is with us,” Ayla said.

  “Bring him in,” Morizan said as he pushed open the door drape.

  Ayla hadn’t seen much of Manvelar’s son since the lion hunt, and she smiled cordially at him. After everyone had been greeted, Ayla said, “I need to go to the zelandonia lodge. Could you keep Wolf, Jondalar? Sometimes he creates such a distraction, he disrupts things. I like to ask Zelandoni first, before I bring him there.”

  “If no one minds,” Jondalar said, giving Morizan and Manvelar and the others in the lodge a questioning look.

  “It’s fine. He can stay,” Manvelar said.

  Ayla stooped down and looked at the animal. “Stay with Jondalar,” she said, making the hand signal at the same time. He nosed the baby and made her giggle, then sat down. Whining with concern, he anxiously watched her as she and the baby left, but he didn’t follow her.

  When she reached the imposing lodge of the zelandonia, she tapped on the panel, and said, “It’s Ayla.”

  “Come in,” she heard the familiar voice of the First Among Those Who Served The Great Earth Mother say. The drape covering the opening was pushed aside by a male acolyte and Ayla stepped in. Though oil lamps were burning, it was dark inside and she stood without moving for a while, waiting for her eyes to adjust. When she could finally see where she was going, she saw a group of people sitting near the large figure of the First. “Come join us, Ayla,” she said. She had waited before speaking, knowing how the darkness inside left people momentarily blinded.

 

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