Plains of Passage (127 page)

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Authors: Jean M. Auel

Tags: #Historical fiction

BOOK: Plains of Passage
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“Hmmmf”
She shrugged. “It’s not as though I made the choice. But here I scold Dalanar, and then I talk too much.”

Jondalar had his arm around the waist of the woman he had surprised. “I’d like to meet your traveling companion,” she said.

“I’m sorry, of course,” Jondalar said. “Ayla of the Mamutoi, this is my cousin, Joplaya of the Lanzadonii.”

“I welcome you, Ayla of the Mamutoi,” she said, holding out her hands.

“I greet you, Joplaya of the Lanzadonii,” Ayla said, suddenly conscious of her accent and glad she had a clean tunic under her parka. Joplaya was as tall as she, perhaps a shade taller. She had her mother’s high cheekbones, but her face was not as flat and her nose was like Jondalar’s, only more delicate and finely chisled. Smooth dark eyebrows matched long black hair, and thick black lashes framed eyes with a hint of her mother’s slant, but a dazzling green!

Joplaya was a stunningly beautiful woman.

“I am pleased to greet you,” Ayla said. “Jondalar has spoken of you so often.”

‘ “I’m pleased he didn’t forget me, altogether,” Joplaya replied. She stepped back and Jondalar’s arm found her waist again.

Others had crowded around, and Ayla went through a formal greeting with each member of the Cave. They were all curious about the woman Jondalar had brought back, but their scrutiny and questions made her uncomfortable, and she was glad when Jerika intervened.

“I think we should save some questions for later. I’m sure they both have many stories to tell, but they must be tired. Come, Ayla, I will show you where you can stay. Do the animals require anything special?”

“I just need to remove their loads and find a place for them to graze. Wolf will stay inside with us, if you don’t object,” Ayla said.

She saw that Jondalar was deep in conversation with Joplaya, and she unloaded the packs from both horses herself, but he hurried over to help her take their things into the cave.

“I think I know just the place for the horses,” he said. “I’ll take them there. Do you want to keep the lead on Whinney? I’m going to tie Racer down with a long rope.”

“No, I don’t think so. She’ll stay near Racer.” Ayla noticed that he was feeling so entirely comfortable, he didn’t even have to ask. But why not? These people were his kin. “I’ll go with you, though. To settle her in.”

They walked to a small grassy dell with a creek running through it that was off around the side. Wolf came with them. After he tied Racer’s lead securely, Jondalar started back. “Are you coming?” he asked.

“I’ll stay with Whinney a little longer,” she said.

“Why don’t I go carry our things in, then?”

“Yes, go ahead.” He seemed eager to get back, not that she blamed him. She signaled the wolf to stay with her. Everything was new to him, too. They all needed some time to settle in, except for Jondalar. When she returned she looked for him and found him deep in conversation with Joplaya. She hesitated to interrupt.

“Ayla,” he said, when he noticed her. “I was telling Joplaya about Wymez. Later, will you show her the spear point he gave you?”

She nodded. Jondalar turned back to Joplaya. “Wait until you see it. The Mamutoi are excellent mammoth hunters, they tip their spears with flint instead of bone. It pierces thick hides better, especially if the blades are thin. Wymez developed a new technique. The point is bifacially knapped, but not like a crude axehead. He heats the stone—that makes the difference. Finer, thinner flakes sheer off. He can make a point that is longer than my hand with a cross-section so thin and an edge so sharp, you won’t believe it.”

They were standing so close together their bodies were touching as Jondalar excitedly explained the details of the new technique, and their casual intimacy made Ayla uneasy. They had lived together during their adolescent years. What secrets had he told her? What joys and sorrows had they known together? What frustrations and triumphs had they shared as they both learned the difficult art of knapping flint? How much better did Joplaya know him than she did?

Before, they had both been strangers to the people they met on their Journey. Now, only she was a stranger.

He turned back to Ayla. “Why don’t I go and get that point? What basket was it in?” he asked, already on his way.

She told him and smiled nervously at the dark-haired woman after he left, but neither of them spoke. Jondalar was back almost instantly.

“Joplaya, I told Dalanar to come—I’ve been wanting to show him this point. Wait until you see it.”

He carefully opened the wrapped package and uncovered a beautifully made flint point just as Dalanar came up. At the sight of the fine spear point, Dalanar took it from Jondalar and examined it closely.

“It’s a masterwork! I have never seen such fine craftsmanship,” Dalanar exclaimed. “Look at this, Joplaya. It’s bifacially worked, but very thin, small flakes are removed. Think of the control, the concentration it must have taken. The feel of this flint is different, and the sheen. It seems almost … oily. Where did you get this? Do they have a different kind of flint in the east?”

“No, it’s a new process, developed by a Mamutoi man named Wymez. He’s the only knapper I’ve ever met who compares with you,
Dalanar. He heats the stone. That’s what gives it the sheen, and the feel, but even better, after it’s heated, you can remove those fine flakes,” Jondalar was explaining with great animation.

Ayla found herself watching him.

“They almost chip off by themselves—that’s what gives you the control. I’ll show you how he does it. I’m not as good as he is—I need to work on perfecting my technique—but you’ll see what I mean. I want to get some good flint while we’re here. With the horses, we can carry more weight, and I’d like to bring some Lanzadonii stone home with me.”

“This is your home, too, Jondalar,” Dalanar said quietly. “But, yes, we can go to the mine tomorrow and quarry some fresh stone. I’d like to see how this is done, but is this really a spear point? It looks so thin, and graceful, it almost seems too fragile to hunt with.”

“They use these spear points for hunting mammoth. It does break more easily, but the sharp flint pierces the thick hide better than a bone point and will slide in between ribs,” Jondalar said. “I have something else to show you, too. I developed it when I was recovering from the cave lion mauling, in Ayla’s valley. It’s a spear-thrower. With it, a spear will fly twice as far. Wait until you see how it works!”

“I think they want us to come and eat, Jondalar,” Dalanar said, noticing people at the mouth of the cave, beckoning. “Everyone will want to hear your stories. Come inside where you can be comfortable and all can hear. You tease us with these animals that obey your wishes, and comments about cave lion maulings, spear-throwers, new stone-knapping techniques. What other adventures and marvels do you have to share?”

Jondalar laughed. “We haven’t even begun. Would you believe we have seen stones that make fire and stones that burn? Dwellings made out of the bones of mammoths, ivory points that pull thread, and huge rivercraft used to hunt fish so big, it would take five men your size, one on top of the other, to reach tip to tail.”

Ayla had never seen Jondalar so happy and relaxed, so free and unrestrained, and she realized how glad he was to be with his people.

He put an arm around both Ayla and Joplaya as they walked toward the cave. “Have you chosen a mate yet, Joplaya?” Jondalar asked. “I didn’t see anyone who seemed to have a claim on you.”

Joplaya laughed. “No, I’ve been waiting for you, Jondalar.”

“There you go, making a joke again,” Jondalar said, chuckling. He turned to explain to Ayla. “Close-cousins can’t mate, you know.”

“I have it all planned,” Joplaya continued, “I thought we’d run off together and start our own Cave, like Dalanar did. But, of course, we’d only allow flint knappers.” Her laugh seemed forced, and she looked only at Jondalar.

“See what I mean, Ayla?” Jondalar said, turning to her but giving Joplaya a squeeze. “Always joking. Joplaya is the worst tease.” Ayla wasn’t sure she understood the joke.

“Seriously, Joplaya, you must be promised anyway.”

“Echozar has asked, but I haven’t decided yet.”

“Echozar? I don’t think I know him. Is he Zelandonii?”

“He’s Lanzadonii. He joined us a few years ago. Dalanar saved his life, found him almost drowned. I think he’s still in the cave. He’s shy; you’ll understand why when you meet him. He looks … well, different. He doesn’t like meeting strangers, he says he doesn’t want to come with us to the Zelandonii Summer Meeting. But he’s sweet when you get to know him, and he’d do anything for Dalanar.”

“Are you going to the Summer Meeting this year? I hope so, at least for the Matrimonial. Ayla and I are going to be mated.” This time he gave Ayla a squeeze.

“I don’t know,” Joplaya said, looking at the ground. Then she looked at him. “I always knew you would never mate that Marona woman who was waiting for you the year you left, but I didn’t think you’d bring a woman back with you.”

Jondalar flushed at the mention of the woman he had promised to mate and left behind, and he didn’t notice Ayla stiffen as Joplaya hurried toward a man just coming out of the cave.

“Jondalar! That man!” He caught the startled tone in her voice and turned to look at her. She was ashen.

“What’s wrong, Ayla?”

“He looks like Durc! Or maybe the way my son will look when he grows up. Jondalar, that man is part Clan!”

Jondalar looked closer. It was true. The man Joplaya was urging toward them had the look of the Clan. But as they approached, Ayla noticed one striking difference between this man and the men of the Clan she knew. He was almost as tall as she.

When he neared, she made a motion with her hand. It was subtle, hardly noticeable to anyone else, but the man’s large brown eyes opened wide with surprise.

“Where did you learn that?” he asked, making the same gesture. His voice was deep, but clear and distinct. He had no problem speaking; a sure sign he was a mixture.

“I was raised by a clan. They found me when I was a little girl. I don’t remember any family before that.”

“A clan raised you? They cursed my mother because she gave birth to me,” he said bitterly. “What clan would raise you?”

“I didn’t think her accent was Mamutoi,” Jerika interjected. Several people were standing around them.

Jondalar took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He had known from the beginning Ayla’s background would come out sooner or later. “When I met her, she couldn’t even talk, Jerika, at least not with words. But she saved my life after I was attacked by a cave lion. She was adopted by the Mamutoi into the Mammoth Hearth because she is so skilled in healing.”

“She is Mamut? One Who Serves the Mother? Where is her mark? I don’t see any tattoo on her cheek,” Jerika said.

“Ayla learned to heal from the woman who raised her, a medicine woman of the people she calls Clan—flatheads—but she’s as good as any zelandoni. The Mamut was only starting to train her to Serve the Mother before we left; she was never initiated. That’s why she has no mark,” Jondalar explained.

“I knew she was zelandoni. She has to be to control animals like that, but how could she learn healing from a flathead woman?” Dalanar exclaimed. “Before I met Echozar, I thought they were little more than animals. I understand from him that they can talk, in a way, and now you say they have healers. You should have told me, Echozar.”

“How would I know? I’m not a
flathead!”
Echozar spat the word out. “I only knew my mother, and Andovan.”

Ayla was surprised at the venom in his voice. “You said your mother was cursed? And yet she survived to raise you? She must have been a remarkable woman.”

Echozar looked directly into the gray-blue eyes of the tall blond woman. There was no hesitation, no drawing back to avoid staring at him. He felt strangely drawn to this woman he had never seen before, comfortable with her.

“She didn’t talk about it much,” Echozar said. “She was attacked by some men, who killed her mate when he tried to protect her. He was the brother of the leader of her clan, and she was blamed for his death. The leader said she brought bad luck. But later, when she learned she was expecting a child, he took her as a second woman. When I was born, he said it proved she was a bad-luck woman. She had not only killed her mate, she gave birth to a deformed baby. Then he cursed her, a death curse.” He was talking more openly to this woman than he normally did, and he was surprised at himself.

“I’m not sure what that means—a death curse,” Echozar continued. “She only told me once, and then she couldn’t finish. She said everyone turned away from her, as though they could not see her. They said she was dead, and even though she tried to make them look at her, it was like she wasn’t there, like she was dead. It must have been terrible.”

“It was,” Ayla said softly. “It’s hard to go on living if you don’t exist to the ones you love.” Her eyes misted with memory.

“My mother took me and left them to go and die, like she was supposed to, but Andovan found her. He was old even then, and living alone. He never did tell me why he left his Cave, it was something about a cruel leader…”

“Andovan…” Ayla interrupted. “Was he S’Armunai?”

“Yes, I think so,” Echozar said. “He didn’t talk about his people much.”

“We know about their cruel leader,” Jondalar said, grimly.

“Andovan took care of us,” Echozar continued. “He taught me to hunt. He learned to speak the sign language of the Clan from my mother, but she never could say more than a few words. I learned both, though it surprised her that I could make his word sounds. Andovan died a few years ago, and with him my mother’s will to live. The death curse finally took her.”

“What did you do then?” Jondalar asked.

“I lived alone.”

“That is not easy,” Ayla said.

“No, it’s not easy. I tried to find someone to live with. No clan would let me near them. They threw stones at me and said I was deformed and unlucky. No Cave would have anything to do with me, either. They said I was an abomination of mixed spirits, half-man and half-animal. After a while I got tired of trying. I didn’t want to be alone any more. One day I jumped off a cliff into the river. The next thing I knew, Dalanar was looking at me. He took me to his Cave. Now I am Echozar of the Lanzadonii,” he finished proudly, glancing at the tall man he idolized.

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