by Jean M. Auel
“I know you love me, Jondalar,” Ayla said. “Everyone at this whole Summer Meeting knows you love me. I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t love me. In spite of what Danug said, if you ever need to, even if you just want to, you can couple with anyone you want, Jondalar. I don’t even hate Marona anymore. I don’t blame her for wanting you. Who wouldn’t want you? Sharing the Gift of Pleasure isn’t what makes love. It makes babies, but not love. Love can make Pleasures better, but if you love someone, what difference does coupling with someone else once in a while make? Coupling takes a few moments. How can that be more important than a lifetime of love? Even in the Clan, coupling was done just to relieve a man’s needs. You wouldn’t expect me to break our bond just because you coupled with someone else, would you?”
Danug laughed. “If that were a reason, everyone would have to break his bond. People look forward to Festivals to Honor the Mother, to share Pleasures with someone else once in a while. I’ve heard stories that Talut can still couple with as many as six women in a row at Festivals. Mother always said it just gave her a chance to see if any other man could match him. None ever could.”
“Talut is a better man than I am,” Jondalar said. “There was a time, maybe, but I don’t have the stamina anymore. And to be honest, I don’t have the desire.”
“It may just be stories,” Danug said. “I can’t say that I’ve ever seen him with any woman except mother. He spends a lot of time with other leaders, and she spends most of her time at Meetings visiting with relatives and friends. I think most people just like to tell stories.”
There was a pause in the conversation and each of the young people looked at each other. Then Danug spoke up. “I wouldn’t break the mating bond over it, but to be honest, I really would like it better if the woman I mate would share Pleasures with no one except me.”
“What about during Festivals to Honor the Great Earth Mother?” Jondalar asked.
“I know we should all Honor the Mother at festivals and such, but how would I know the children my mate brought to my hearth were mine if she shares Pleasures with someone else?” Danug said.
Ayla looked at them both, and remembered the words of the First. “If a man loves the children a woman brings to his hearth now, why should knowing who started them make any difference?”
“Maybe it shouldn’t, but I would still want them to be mine,” Danug said.
“If you start a child, does that make him yours? Would you own him, like a personal possession?” Ayla asked. “Would you not love a child you didn’t own, Danug?”
“I don’t mean mine in the sense of owning, but mine in the sense that the child would have come from me,” Danug tried to explain. “I probably would grow to care for any child of my hearth, one that didn’t come from me or even one that did not come from my mate. I loved Rydag as a brother, more than a brother, and he was not Talut’s or Nezzie’s, but I would like to know if a child of my hearth was started by me. A woman doesn’t have to worry. She always knows.”
“I understand how Danug feels, Ayla. It makes me happy to know Jonayla came from me. And everyone knows she did because everyone knows you never chose anyone but me. We always Honored the Mother at Festivals, but we always chose each other.”
“I wonder if you’d be so eager to have children of your own if you had to go through the pain along with your mate,” Ayla said. “Some women would be happy if they never had to have children. Not many, but some.”
The men glanced at each other, but neither one looked at Ayla, feeling slightly embarrassed at voicing personal thoughts that seemed to contradict the customs and beliefs of their people.
“By the way, have you heard that Marona is going to mate again?” Danug said, changing the subject.
“She is?” Jondalar said. “No, I didn’t know. When?”
“In a few days, at the Late Matrimonial, when Folara and Aldanor mate,” Proleva said, just coming in. She was followed by Joharran.
“That’s what Aldanor told me,” Danug said.
Greetings were exchanged, the women hugged, and the leader of the Ninth Cave bent down and touched her cheek with his. Low stools were dragged close to Ayla’s bed.
“Who is she mating?” Ayla asked, after everyone was settled, picking up the thread of the recent disclosure.
“Some friend of Laramar’s who was staying with him and that bunch at the fa’lodge, the one they aren’t using anymore,” Proleva said. “He’s a stranger, but Zelandonii, I understand.”
“He comes from a group of Caves that lie along Big River to the west of here. I heard he came to our Summer Meeting with a message for someone, and decided to stay. I don’t know if he knew them before, but he got along well with Laramar and the rest of that bunch,” Joharran said.
“I think I know the one,” Jondalar said.
“He’s been staying at the camp of the Fifth Cave, since they left that fa’lodge, and Marona has been staying there, too. That’s where he met her,” Proleva said.
“I didn’t think Marona wanted to mate again, and he seems rather young. I wonder why she would choose him,” Jondalar said.
“Maybe she didn’t have much choice,” Proleva said.
“But everyone says she’s so beautiful, she could have almost anyone she wanted,” Ayla said.
“For a night, but not for a mate,” Danug said. “I hear people talk. The men she’s mated before don’t speak very well of her.”
“And she’s never had any children,” Proleva said. “Some people say she can’t have any. That could make her less desirable to some men, but I guess it doesn’t matter to her intended. She is going with him to his Cave.”
“I think I met him,” Ayla said, “when I was walking back from the Lanzadonii camp with Echozar one night. I can’t say that I cared much for him. Why did he move out of that fa’lodge?”
“They all did after their personal things were taken,” Joharran said.
“I heard something about that, but I wasn’t paying much attention at the time,” Jondalar said.
“Someone took things?” Ayla said.
“Someone took personal things from just about everyone who was staying at that fa’lodge,” Joharran said.
“Why would anyone do something like that?” Ayla asked.
“I don’t know, but Laramar was pretty upset when he found out that a new winter outfit he’d just traded for was missing, not to mention his pack carrier and most of his barma. Someone else was missing new mittens, another man lost a good knife, and almost all the food was gone,” Joharran said.
“Does anyone know who did it?” Jondalar asked.
“Two people are missing, Brukeval and Madroman,” Joharran said. “Brukeval left without anything, as far as anyone knows. The other men who were staying at the fa’lodge claim most of his things were still there after he left, but later most of them were missing, and so are Madroman’s.”
“I heard Zelandoni tell someone that Madroman did not return the sacred objects he received as an acolyte,” Proleva said.
“I saw Madroman leaving!” Ayla said, suddenly remembering.
“When?” Joharran asked.
“It was the day the Ninth Cave shared a feast with the Lanzadonii. I was the only one at camp, and just coming out of the lodge. He gave me a look of such hatred, it actually frightened me, but he seemed to be in a big hurry. I remember thinking there was something odd about him. Then I realized I hardly ever saw him without his acolyte tunic, but this time he was wearing regular clothes, except I thought it was strange that his outfit was decorated with Ninth Cave symbols, not Fifth Cave.”
“That’s where Laramar’s new outfit went,” Joharran said. “I wondered if it was him.”
“Do you think Madroman took it?” Ayla said.
“Yes, and everything else that was taken.”
“I think you’re right, Joharran,” Jondalar said.
“I would guess he didn’t want to face people after the disgrace of being rejected by the zelandoni
a, at least not the people who knew him,” Danug said.
“I wonder where he went,” Proleva said.
“He’s probably going to try to find some other people to live with,” Joharran said. “That’s why he took the things. He knows winter is coming and he didn’t know where he would be staying.”
“What will he do to get some strange group to accept him? He doesn’t have a skill, and he never was much of a hunter. I heard he never went out hunting again after he joined the zelandonia, not even on a drive,” Jondalar said.
“Anyone can do that and almost everyone does. Children love going out and beating the bushes, and making a lot of noise to flush rabbits and other animals out and then chasing them toward hunters or into a net,” Proleva said.
“Madroman does have a skill. That’s why he didn’t return the sacred objects he got from the zelandonia,” Joharran said. “That’s what he’ll do. He’ll be a Zelandoni.”
“But he’s not a Zelandoni!” Ayla said. “He lied about being called.”
“But some strange group of people won’t know that,” Danug said.
“He’s been around the zelandonia for so many years, he knows how to act like one. He’ll lie again,” Proleva said.
“Do you think he would really do that?” Ayla asked, appalled at the very idea.
“You should tell Zelandoni you saw him leave, Ayla,” Proleva said.
“And the other leaders should know,” Joharran said. “Maybe we can bring it up before your meeting tomorrow, Jondalar. At least it will give people something else to talk about besides you.”
Ayla’s eyes opened wide. “So soon?” she said. “Proleva, I am going to be there.”
They were outside on the level ground in front of the sloping sides of the large natural amphitheater. Laramar was seated, and though his face was still somewhat swollen, he appeared to have essentially recovered from the beating he had received at the hands of the man facing him, except for the scars and battered nose from which he would never recover. Jondalar tried not to flinch as he stood in the bright afternoon sunlight looking at the man whose face was so badly damaged. He would not have been recognized by people who knew him well, if they hadn’t known who he was. Originally there had been some talk that Laramar might lose an eye, and Jondalar was grateful that he had not.
It was ostensibly a meeting of the Ninth Cave and the Fifth Cave, with the zelandonia as mediators, but since any interested parties were free to attend, nearly everyone who had come to the Summer Meeting was curious and had indicated “interest.” Though the Ninth Cave would have preferred to have waited until later for this confrontation, after the summer gathering of Zelandonii was over, the Fifth Cave had insisted. Since they were being asked to accept Laramar, they wanted to know what they and Laramar could expect as compensation from Jondalar and the Ninth Cave.
Jondalar and Laramar had met for the first time since the incident just before the public meeting inside the zelandonia lodge, along with Joharran, Kemordan, the leader of the Fifth Cave, each Cave’s Zelandoni, and several other leaders and zelandonia. They knew Marthona was not strong, and she was told that she did not need to be at the meeting, especially since Laramar’s mother was no longer alive, but she would have none of it. Jondalar was her son and she was going to be there. The mates of both of them were not a part of the first meeting either since they both presented complications. Ayla, because she had played such a large role in the incident, and Laramar’s mate, because she did not want to move to the Fifth Cave with him, another aspect that would have to be dealt with.
Jondalar was quick to say how sorry he was, and how much he regretted his actions, but Laramar had nothing but disdain for the tall, handsome brother of the leader of the Ninth Cave. For one of the first times in his life, Laramar had the high ground; he was in the right, he had done nothing wrong, and he wasn’t going to give up any of his advantage.
There was a slight buzz of conversation among the audience when the participants walked out of the lodge as news that Ayla had seen Madroman leaving the Campsite wearing clothing he had very likely stolen from Laramar was passed around. It was followed by an undercurrent of comment speculating about the various ramifications: Jondalar’s and the First’s past history with Madroman, his rejection from the zelandonia and Ayla’s role in it, and why she was the only one who saw him leave. People settled in to watch the events full of anticipation. It wasn’t often that they were presented with the opportunity to observe so much high drama. The whole summer was proving to be an exciting one that would fill many long slow winter days with meat for discussion, and stories for seasoning.
“We have some serious matters to resolve today,” the First started. “These are not matters of the Spirit World but problems between Her children and we ask that Doni observe our deliberations and help us to speak the truth, to think clearly, and to reach fair decisions.”
She took out a small carved sculpture and held it up. It was the figure of a full-bodied woman with the legs tapering to barely suggested feet. Though they could not distinctly see the object she held in her hand, they all knew that it was a donii, a place for the all-encompassing spirit of the Great Earth Mother or at least some essential part of Her nature, to reside. A tall cairn of stones, almost a pillar, with a large base of fairly big stones tapering up to a flattened top of sandy gravel, had been constructed in the center of the level area.
With a decided flourish, the First Among Those Who Served The Mother planted the feet of the donii into the gravel and propped Her up for all to see. The primary purpose of the donii in this context was to prevent deliberate lying, and She was a strong deterrent. When the Mother’s spirit was expressly invoked to watch, everyone knew any lies would be seen by Her and brought to light; while someone might lie and get away with it for the moment, eventually the truth would come out, and usually with far worse repercussions. Not that there was not any great danger of anyone lying today, but it could still be a limiting influence on any tendency to exaggerate.
“Shall we begin,” the First said. “There were many witnesses, so I don’t think we need to go into any great detail about the circumstances. During the recent Festival to Honor the Mother, Jondalar found his mate Ayla sharing the Mother’s Gift of Pleasures with Laramar. Both Ayla and Laramar joined together of their own desire. There was no force, no compulsion. Is that correct, Ayla?”
She hadn’t expected to be questioned so quickly, to have all the attention of the people suddenly brought to bear on her. It caught her by surprise, but she wouldn’t have known how to lie about it if she had wanted to.
“Yes, Zelandoni. That is true.”
“Is that true, Laramar?”
“Yeah, she was more than willing. She came after me,” he said.
The First fought a slight urge to caution him about exaggeration, but continued on. “And then what happened?” She was deciding whether to ask Ayla or Jondalar, but Laramar jumped in.
“You can see what happened. The next thing I know, Jondalar was punching me in the face,” he said.
“Jondalar?”
The tall man bowed his head and swallowed. “That’s what happened. I saw him with Ayla, and I dragged him off her and started hitting him. I know it was wrong. I have no excuse,” Jondalar said, knowing in his heart even as he said it that he would do it again.
“Do you know why you hit him, Jondalar?” the First asked.
“I was jealous,” he mumbled.
“You were jealous, is that what you said?”
“Yes, Zelandoni.”
“If you had to express your jealousy, Jondalar, couldn’t you have just pulled them apart? Did you have to hit him?”
“I couldn’t stop myself. And once I started …” Jondalar shook his head.
“Once he started, no one could stop him, he even hit me!” the leader of the Fifth said. “He was beside himself, in some kind of a frenzy. I don’t know what we would have done if that big Mamutoi hadn’t got hold of him.”
/> “That’s why he’s so ready to take in Laramar,” Folara whispered to Proleva, but easily heard by those around her. “He’s mad that he couldn’t stop Jondé, and got hit when he tried.”
“He also likes Laramar’s barma, but he may discover that Laramar is no shiny piece of amber,” Proleva said. “He is not exactly the first one I would ask to join my Cave.” She turned her attention back to the center.
“This is the reason,” Zelandoni was saying, “that we try to teach the senselessness of jealousy. It can get out of hand. Do you understand that, Jondalar?”
“Yes, I do. It was stupid of me, and I’m very sorry. I’ll do whatever you say to make up for it. I want to make amends.”
“He can’t make up for it,” Laramar said. “He can’t fix my face, just like he couldn’t put the teeth back in Madroman’s mouth.”
The First gave Laramar a look of annoyance. That was uncalled for, she thought. It wasn’t necessary to bring that up. He doesn’t have the least idea how much Jondalar was provoked in that situation. But she kept her thoughts to herself.
“But reparations were paid,” Marthona said loudly.
“And I expect them to be paid again!” Laramar retorted.
“What do you expect?” the First asked. “What redress are you asking? What do you want, Laramar?”
“What I want is to punch his pretty face in,” Laramar said.
There was a gasp from the audience.
“That is no doubt true, but it is not a remedy allowed by the Mother. Do you have any other thoughts about how you would like him to make amends?” the Donier asked.
Laramar’s mate stood up. “He keeps making bigger dwellings for himself. Why don’t you ask him to make a big new dwelling for your family, Laramar?” she called out.
“That might be a possibility, Tremeda,” the First said, “but where would you want it made, at the Ninth Cave, or the Fifth Cave, Laramar?”