by Jean M. Auel
She cried out, feeling jolts of fire rising through her. Almost too soon he felt a spurt of fluid, tasted her, and his urge to let himself go was so strong, he very nearly couldn’t hold back. He raised up, found her opening with his swollen manhood, and pushed in, grateful that he didn’t have to fear that he would hurt her, that she could take him all, that he fit so well.
She cried out again, and again each time he pulled out and moved in. And then he was there. With a groaning shout that he seldom expressed when others were around, he reached an intensely powerful peak and surged into her. As she heard his cries, she felt herself matching his movements, not even hearing her own sounds as the waves of sensation, matching his, flooded over her. She arched her back, pushing into him as he pushed against her. They held for a moment, shaking with the convulsions, pushing against each other as though trying to get inside each other and become one, and then they dropped down, panting to catch their breaths. He lay on top of her, the way she liked it, until he thought he must be too heavy on her and rolled over.
“I’m sorry it was so fast,” he said.
“I’m not. I was just as ready as you were, maybe more.”
They lay together for a while, then she said, “I’d like to take a quick dip in the stream.”
“You and your cold-water baths. Do you have any idea how cold that water is? Remember when we stayed with the Losadunai on our Journey here? The hot water that came out of the ground, and the wonderful hot baths they built?” Jondalar said.
“They were wonderful, but cold water makes you feel fresh and tingly. I don’t mind cold-water baths,” she said.
“And I’ve become accustomed to them. All right. Let’s build up the fire so it’s warm when we come back, and go take a cold wash, a quick cold wash.”
When glaciers covered the land not far to the north, even at the height of summer the evenings could be cool at latitudes midway between the pole and the equator. They took with them the soft chamois drying skins that had been given to them by their Sharamudoi friends on their Journey, and wrapping themselves in them, ran out to the stream, downriver of their usual water source, but not as far down as the waste basket washing place.
“This water is cold!” Jondalar protested when they ran in.
“Yes, it is,” Ayla said, crouching down so that the water reached her neck and covered her shoulders. She splashed cold water on her face, then used her hands to rub herself all over under the water. She ran out, picked up the chamois towel and wrapped it around herself, and dashed toward their shelter. Jondalar was close on her heels. They hovered over the fire and dried off quickly, then hung the wet skins on a peg. They crawled into their sleeping roll and cuddled close to get warm.
Once they felt comfortable again, he whispered in her ear, “If we go slowly, do you think you can be ready again?”
“I think so, if you can.”
Jondalar kissed her, searching with his tongue to open her mouth, and she responded in kind. This time, he didn’t want to rush it. He wanted to linger over her, explore her body, find all the special places that gave her pleasure, and let her find his. He ran his hand down her arm and felt her cool skin that was beginning to warm, then caressed her breast, feeling the contracted, hardened nipple in his palm. He manipulated it between his thumb and finger, then ducked his head under the cover to take it in his mouth.
There was a noise outside. They both lifted their heads above the covers to listen. There were voices, coming closer, and then the flap over the entry was pushed aside as people walked in. They both lay still listening. If everyone went right to bed, they could continue their new explorations. Neither one of them felt entirely comfortable sharing Pleasures while other people were sitting nearby fully awake and talking, although some people didn’t seem to mind. It wasn’t all that unusual, Jondalar realized, and tried to remember what he did when he was younger.
He knew they had grown used to seclusion when they spent a year traveling alone together to his home, but he thought that he was always a man who liked his privacy, even when Zolena was teaching him. Especially when the teaching became more than a donii-woman and her young charge, when they actually became lovers, and he wanted her to be his mate. Then he recognized her voice along with that of his mother and Willamar. The First had come with them to the camp of the Ninth Cave.
“Let me get some water heating for tea,” Marthona said. “We can get a light from Jondalar’s hearth.”
“She knows we’re awake,” Jondalar whispered to Ayla. “I think we’re going to have to get up.”
“I think you’re right,” Ayla said.
“I’ll bring you some fire, mother,” Jondalar said, pushing the covers back and reaching for his pouch thong.
“Oh, did we wake you?” Marthona said.
“No, mother,” he said. “You didn’t wake us.” He got up and found a long, thin piece of kindling and held it to the fire until it caught, then brought the fire to the main hearth in the shelter.
“Why don’t you have some tea with us,” his mother said.
“I guess we might as well,” he said. He knew that they were all fully aware that they had interrupted the young couple.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to both of you anyway,” Zelandoni said.
“Let me go back and put some warmer clothes on,” he said.
Ayla had already dressed herself when Jondalar got back to their small sleeping area. He quickly put on his clothing and both of them went to the main hearth, carrying their personal drinking cups.
“Someone filled up the waterbag,” Willamar said. “I think you saved me the trouble, Jondalar.”
“Ayla noticed it was empty.”
“I saw Wolf and your horses out back of the dwelling, Ayla,” Willamar said.
“No one was in camp all day, and a snow leopard tried to get Gray. Whinney and Racer fought him off and killed him, but they broke out of the surround,” Jondalar said.
“Wolf found them way in the back of this meadow, near the cliffs and a small stream. It must have been terrible for them. They were even afraid of him and us at first,” Ayla said.
“And they wouldn’t go anywhere near that surround, so we brought them here,” Jondalar said.
“Wolf is watching them now, but we’ll have to find some other place to keep the horses,” Ayla said. “I was going to find someplace to get rid of that snow leopard carcass tomorrow, and give away the wood from that surround. It would make good firewood.”
“There are some good planks on that surround. It’s good for more than firewood,” Willamar said.
“You can have it all, Willamar. I don’t even want to see it again,” Ayla said, with a shudder.
“Yes, why don’t you decide what to do with that wood, Willamar. There are some good pieces,” Jondalar said, thinking to himself that the snow leopard had scared Ayla even more than it did the horses. It made her angry, too. She’d probably burn the surround herself just to get rid of it.
“How do you know it was a snow leopard? They are not usually found around here,” Willamar said, “and never in summer, that I can remember.”
“When we got to the enclosure, we found the remains of the leopard, but no sign of the horses,” Jondalar said. “Ayla found a long fluffy tail of grayish white fur with dark spots and recognized it as belonging to a snow leopard.”
“Sounds right to me,” Willamar said, “but snow leopards like the highlands and mountains, and go after ibex, chamois, and mouflon, not usually horses.”
“Ayla said she thought it was a young one, possibly male,” Jondalar said.
“Maybe the mountain feeders are coming down early this year,” Marthona said. “If that is true, it could mean a short summer.”
“We’d better tell Joharran. It might be wise to plan some major hunts soon, and lay in a good store of meat early. A short summer can mean a long, cold winter,” Willamar said.
“And we’d better pick all we can of whatever ripens before any cold weathe
r comes,” Marthona said. “Even before it ripens, if necessary. I remember one year many years ago when we collected very little fruit, and had to dig roots out of almost frozen ground.”
“I remember that year,” Willamar said. “I think it was before Joconan was leader.”
“That’s right. We weren’t even mated yet, but we were interested,” Marthona said. “If I remember correctly, there were several bad years around that time.”
The First had no recollection of the event. She was probably a very young child at the time. “What did people do?” she asked.
“At first, I don’t think anyone believed the summer could be over so fast,” Willamar said. “And then everybody started hurrying to lay in food for the winter. It was good that they did. It turned out to be a long cold season.”
“People should be warned,” the First Among Those Who Served The Great Earth Mother said.
“How can you be sure it means a short summer? It’s just one snow leopard,” Jondalar said.
Ayla was thinking the same thing, but didn’t say anything.
“No one has to be sure,” Marthona said. “If people dry extra meat or berries, or store more roots or nuts early, and it doesn’t turn cold, it won’t hurt anything. It will get used up later. But if we don’t have enough, people could go hungry, or worse.”
“I told you I wanted to talk to you, Ayla. I’ve been thinking about when we should start your Donier Tour. I wasn’t sure if we should go early, or wait until the end of summer, maybe even after the Second Matrimonial. Now I think we should start as soon as we can. We can warn people of the possibility of a short season at the same time,” the First said. “I’m sure the Fourteenth would be more than happy to conduct the Late Matrimonial. I don’t think there will be many couples anyway. Just the few who may meet and decide this summer. I know of two couples who aren’t sure if they want to mate yet, and one whose Caves are slow in coming to agreements. Do you think you can be ready to go in a few days?”
“I’m sure we can,” Ayla said. “And if we leave, I won’t have to find another place for the horses.”
“Look at the crowd,” Danella said, watching the people who had congregated in groups and pockets around the large zelandonia dwelling. She was walking with her mate, Stevadal, the leader of Sun View, and with Joharran and Proleva.
They were watching the crowd who were gathered around the large shelter, watching to see who would come out, not that there wasn’t enough to see anyway. The special pole-drag with the seat that had been made for the First had been hitched to the dun yellow mare of Jondalar’s foreign woman, and Lanidar, the young hunter from the Nineteenth Cave with the deformed arm, was holding a rope attached to a halter, a device made of rope that went around the horse’s head. He was also holding a lead attached to the young brown stallion, who had a similar pole-drag hitched to him, loaded with bundles. The gray foal was standing near him, as though looking to him for protection from the crowd. The wolf was beside them, sitting on his haunches, watching the entry, too.
“You were still weak and weren’t here when they arrived,” Stevadal said to his mate. “Do they always get so much attention, Joharran?”
“It’s always like that when they load up,” Joharran said.
“It’s one thing to have the horses around the edges of the Main Camp, and the wolf at Ayla’s side; you get used to seeing the animals being friendly to a few people. But when they attach those things they pull, and load them up, when they ask the horses to work and the horses are willing, I think that’s what comes as a real surprise,” Proleva said.
There was a stir of excitement as people started leaving the summer dwelling. The four of them hurried so they could make their farewells. When Jondalar and Ayla came out, Wolf stood up, but stayed where he was. They were followed by Marthona, Willamar, and Folara, several Zelandonia, and then the First. Joharran was already planning a large hunt, and though Stevadal was a little reluctant to accept their warning of a short summer entirely, he was more than willing to go along on the hunt.
“Will you be coming back here, Ayla?” Danella asked, after she had brushed cheeks. “I’ve hardly had time to get to know you.”
“I don’t know. I think that depends on the First,” Ayla said.
Danella also brushed Jonayla’s cheek with hers. The child was wide awake, held to her mother’s hip with her carrying blanket, and seemed to be sensing the excitement in the air. “I wish I’d had the chance to know this little one better, too. She is such a delight, and so pretty.”
They walked to where the horses were waiting, and took the lead ropes. “Thank you, Lanidar,” Ayla said. “I am grateful for your help with the horses, especially these past few days. They trust you, and feel comfortable around you.”
“I’ve enjoyed it. I like the horses and both of you have done so much for me. If you hadn’t asked me to watch them last year, and taught me how to use the spear-thrower, and given me my first one, I never would have learned how to hunt. I’d still be following my mother around picking berries. Now I have some friends, and some status to offer Lanoga, when she’s older.”
“So you still plan to mate with her,” Ayla said.
“Yes, we are making plans,” Lanidar said. He stood for a moment, as though he wanted to say more. Finally he did. “I want to thank you and Jondalar for the summer dwelling you built for them. It made such a difference. I have stayed there a few times—well, most nights—to help her with the little ones. Her mother came back two, no three times. Tremeda always asks me for something, but not until the next morning. At night, she can hardly walk. Laramar even spent the night once. I don’t think he noticed that I was there. He left in the morning right after he got up.”
“How about Bologan? Does he stay there at night and help with the younger children?” Ayla asked.
“Sometimes. He’s learning to make barma, and he stays with Laramar whenever he makes it. He’s also been practicing with the spear-thrower. I’ve been showing him. Last summer, he didn’t seem interested in hunting, but this year, I think after he saw what I’ve learned, he wants to show that he can do it.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that. Thank you for telling me about them and yourself,” Ayla said. “If we don’t come back here after our travels, I will look forward to seeing you next year.” She brushed her cheek with his and gave him a hug.
Ayla noticed the crowd’s attention was drawn to Whinney’s pole-drag. The large woman who was the Zelandoni of the Ninth Cave, and the First Among Those Who Served was walking toward it. Ayla had some idea how nervous she was, but she didn’t show it. She walked with an air of confidence, as though it were nothing at all. Jondalar was standing there with a smile, and held out his hand to assist her. Ayla stayed at Whinney’s head, to steady her when she became aware of the added load. The woman stepped up on the lower step, and felt it give as the poles bent with her weight, but no more than the normal spring of the wood. Still holding Jondalar’s hand for balance, and reassurance, she continued up, then turned around and sat down. Someone had made a very comfortable pad for the seat and backrest, and once she had seated herself, she felt better. She noticed arm supports that she could hold on to once they started moving, which also eased her concerns.
Once Zelandoni was settled, Jondalar went to Ayla, and locked both hands together to make a place for her foot. He stood beside Whinney and helped Ayla, carrying Jonayla, get up on her horse. When she was carrying her baby, it was difficult to jump up in her usual way. The man tied the long lead that was attached to Gray’s small halter to the frame of the pole-drag, then went to Racer, who was beside them, and easily climbed on.
Ayla started out, leading the way out of the Main Camp of the Summer Meeting. In spite of all her encumbrances, supporting a rider and hauling a heavy load on the pole-drag, Whinney was not about to let her offspring get in front of her. She was lead mare, and in a herd, the lead mare always led the way. Ayla smiled down at him as Wolf fell in beside her.
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nbsp; Racer and Jondalar fell in behind them. He was glad to be bringing up the rear. It gave him the opportunity to keep an eye on Ayla and her baby, not to mention Zelandoni, to make sure nothing went wrong. Since the First was facing backward, he could smile at her, and if he got close enough, even have a conversation, or at least say a few words.
The Donier waved sedately at the receding Camp of people, and continued to watch them until they were too far to see clearly. She, too, was glad Jondalar was behind her. She was still a little nervous about riding behind the horse, and just watching the place she had been and the landscape passing by was not terribly interesting after the first few miles. It was a bumpy ride, especially when the going was a little rough, but all in all, it was not a bad way to travel, she decided.
Ayla headed back the way they had come until they came to a stream coming down from the north, near a landmark they had discussed the night before; then she stopped. Jondalar, with his long legs, had to do little more than step off the young stallion and went ahead to help Ayla, but she had already swung her leg over and slid down.
The horses were compact animals, not ponies, but wild horses in their natural state were not tall. They were, however, sturdy, robust, and exceedingly strong, with a rather thick neck capped by a short mane that stood upright. They had tough hooves that could run over any land—sharp stones, hard ground, or soft sand—without needing protection. They both walked back to Zelandoni and held out hands, which she took to help her balance as she got down.
“It’s not difficult to travel like that,” the First said. “A little bumpy, sometimes, but the seat pad eases that and the arm rests give you something to hang on to. It feels good to stand up and walk, though.” She looked around, then nodded. “From here we travel north for a while. It’s not too far, but it will be uphill and the climb is steep.”