The Land of Painted Caves (54 page)

“Just the right woman to help his first woman take care of her five children?”

“His first woman? Five children?” Amelana’s frown deepened. “He didn’t say anything about five children.”

“Did you ask him?”

“No, but why didn’t he tell me?”

“Because he didn’t have to, Amelana. You didn’t ask him. His mate told him to find another woman to help her, but everyone here knows he already has one woman and her children at his hearth. Since she’s his first, she would have the status and the say. She’s the one who brings the status to that arrangement, in any case. He doesn’t have much besides good looks and a charming way. We’re leaving tomorrow. If you decide to mate him, no one here will bring you back home to your mother’s Cave.”

“I am not staying here,” Amelana said, angrily. “But why would he trick me like that? Why didn’t he tell me?”

“You’re an attractive woman, Amelana, but very young, and you like attention. He will no doubt find a second woman, but she won’t be young and pretty, with no one to stand up for her once we’re gone. That is what he’d rather have. That’s why you are so right for him. The woman he’ll find will likely be older, maybe not very attractive. She may have a couple of children of her own, or if he’s lucky she’ll be a woman who couldn’t have children, and will be happy to find a charming man with a family, willing to take her in and make her part of his family. I’m sure that’s what his first woman is hoping for, not a pretty young woman who will leave with the first man who makes her a better offer. I’m sure that’s what you would do, even if it means you would lose status.”

Amelana looked shocked at the First’s straightforward remarks; then she started to cry. “Am I really that bad?”

“I didn’t say you were bad, Amelana. I said you were young, and like most attractive young women, especially those with high status, you are used to getting your own way. But you have a child on the way. You are going to have to learn to put your child’s needs ahead of your own wants.”

“I don’t want to be a bad mother,” Amelana wailed. “But what if I don’t know how to be a good mother?”

“You will be,” Ayla said, speaking for the first time, “especially once you are home with your mother. She will help you. And even if you didn’t have a mother, you would fall in love with your baby just like most mothers do. It’s the way the Great Mother made women, at least most women, and many men, too. You are a loving person, Amelana. You will be a fine mother.”

The First smiled. “Why don’t you go and get your things ready, Amelana,” she said, more kindly. “We’ll be leaving early tomorrow.”

   The company of travelers set out the next day, following one of the three rivers that came together near the Seventh Cave of South Land Zelandonii. They used the shallow Crossing Place at the Campsite to reach the other side, and kept to the river’s meandering course in the beginning. Then, rather than following the twists and turns of the waterway, they decided to strike out across country heading more east than south.

This was all new country to Ayla and to Jonayla, of course, but she was so young, it was unlikely that she would remember when she got older that she had been this way before. It was unfamiliar to Jondalar as well, though he knew he had been here with Willamar and his mother, and Marthona’s other children. Jonokol hadn’t traveled much, so it was new to him as well, and Amelana didn’t recall anything about the region, though she had come through it from her Southern Cave. It just wasn’t anything she paid attention to at the time. Her mind had been filled with her exciting new mate, who couldn’t seem to stay away from her, and daydreams about her new home. The First had been in the general vicinity several times, but not for quite a while, and she didn’t recall it except in a general way. It was the Trade Master who knew it well. He had brought his two assistants before, but they would need to know it equally well. Willamar was looking for certain landmarks to help him guide the way.

As they traveled, the landscape was changing in subtle ways every day. They were gaining elevation and the country was becoming more rugged. There were more limestone outcrops, often accompanied by brush and even small woods growing around them, and less open grassland. Though they were increasing altitude, it was also gradually warming as the summer wore on, and the vegetation was changing as they journeyed south. They saw fewer coniferous trees, like spruces, firs, and junipers, and more deciduous types like larches, and the small-leaf variety such as willows and birches, also fruit and nut trees and occasionally big-leaf maples and oaks. Even the grasses changed, less rye grass and more of the wheat types such as emmer and spelt, although mixed fields were common that included triticale and many herbaceous plants.

While traveling, they hunted a variety of large and small game as they came upon it and gathered the vegetable produce that grew so abundantly at this time of year, but they weren’t thinking about storing for future use, so their needs were not great. Except for Jonayla, they were healthy adults who were capable of foraging for food and taking care of themselves. The large woman did not hunt or gather, but as the First, she contributed in her own way. She walked some of the time, and the more she did, the more she was able to, but when she got tired, she rode the travois and did not slow them down. It was primarily Whinney who pulled her on her special pole-drag, but Ayla and Jondalar were training the other horses to pull the large travois as well. Though they moved slowly enough that the horses could graze along the way, especially in the morning and evening, they made good time, and with the weather remaining pleasant, their trek felt like an agreeable excursion.

They had been traveling for several days, heading generally southeast; then one morning Willamar started out due east, at times even a little north, almost as though he were following a trail. They climbed up around a jutting ridge and behind it there was a trail, but barely wide enough for the extended legs of the First’s pole-drag.

“Perhaps you should walk, Zelandoni,” Willamar said. “It’s not much farther.”

“Yes, I think I will,” she said. “If I recall right, the trail narrows more up ahead.”

“There is a wide spot around the next bend. You might want to leave the pole-drag there, Ayla,” Willamar suggested. “I don’t think the trail will accommodate it.”

“Pole-drags don’t do well on steep trails. We found that out before,” she said, including Jondalar with a glance.

When they reached the wide place, they helped the Donier down, and proceeded to unhitch the conveyance. Then they continued walking up the trail, with Willamar in the lead and the rest of the travelers behind him. Ayla, Jondalar, and Jonayla with the animals brought up the rear.

They traversed a few more legs of the zigzag path and one steep climb up the trail and suddenly found themselves on a relatively broad, grassy shelf at the back of which, amid the smoke of a few fires, was a collection of rather substantial shelters made of wood and hides, with grass thatch roofs. A crowd of people was standing in front of the dwellings facing the approaching visitors, but Ayla could not tell if they were especially glad to see them. They seemed defensive; no one was smiling and some held spears, though they were not aimed at anyone.

Ayla had seen that kind of reception before and subtly signaled the wolf to stay close. She could hear the slight rumble in his throat as he moved in front of her in a protective stance. She looked at Jondalar, who had put himself in front of Jonayla and held her there, though she struggled to see around him. The horses were prancing lightly with nervousness, and their ears were pricked forward. Jondalar took a better grip on the lead ropes of Racer and Gray and looked toward Ayla as she put a hand on Whinney’s neck.

“Willamar!” a voice called out. “Is that you?”

“Farnadal! Of course it’s me, and a few others, mostly from the Ninth Cave. I thought you’d be expecting us. Aren’t Kimeran and Jondecam here yet?” Willamar said.

“No, they aren’t,” Farnadal said. “Should they be?”

“Are they coming?” a female voice said, with a happy touch of excitement.

“We expected them to be here already. No wonder you look so surprised to see us,” Willamar said.

“You are not the one who surprises me,” Farnadal said, with a sardonic look.

“I think some introductions are in order,” Willamar said. “I’ll begin with the First Among Those Who Serve The Great Earth Mother.”

Farnadal gasped, then caught himself and stepped forward. Once he looked more closely he recognized her both from her general description and from her tattoos. He had met her before but it had been some time and they had both changed since then.

“In the name of Doni you are welcome, Zelandoni the First,” he said, then held out both hands and continued with the formal greeting. The rest of the travelers were introduced, with Jondalar and Ayla last.

“This is Jondalar of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, Master Flint-Knapper …,” the Master Trader began, then continued with Ayla’s introduction.

“This is Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, formerly of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi …,” Willamar said. He noticed Farnadal’s expression change as he gave her names and ties, and especially when she greeted him and he heard her speak.

The introductions, by inference, had told him quite a lot about the woman. First that she was a foreigner, which was obvious when she spoke, who had been adopted as a full Zelandonii, in her own right, not just mated to someone who was a Zelandonii, which was unusual in itself. Then that she belonged to the zelandonia, and had become an acolyte of the First. And although the man was holding ropes that had been tied around two horses and was controlling them, she was given the credit for all the animals. It was obvious that she had power over the other horse, and the wolf even without ropes. It seemed to him that she must already be a Zelandoni, not just an acolyte, even of the First.

Then he remembered a troupe of traveling Storytellers a year or so back that had some new and wildly imaginative stories about horses carrying people and a wolf who loved a woman, but he never dreamed there could be any truth in them. Yet, here they were. He hadn’t seen the horses carrying people, but he was beginning to wonder how much truth was in those stories.

A tall woman, whom Ayla thought looked somehow familiar, came forward and asked Willamar, “Did you say you were expecting to see Jondecam and Kimeran here?”

“It has been a long time since you have seen them, hasn’t it, Camora?” Willamar said.

“Yes, it has,” she said.

“You resemble your kin, especially your brother, Jondecam, but Kimeran, too,” Willamar said.

“We are all related,” Camora said, explaining to Farnadal, “Kimeran is my uncle, but he was much younger than his sister, who was my mother. When my mother’s mother joined the spirits of the next world, my mother raised him like a son, along with Jondecam and me. Then when the man to whom she was mated passed on to the next world, she became a Zelandoni. It runs in her family; her grandfa was also a Zelandoni. I wonder if he still walks this world?”

“Yes, he does, in fact, and while age has slowed his step, he is still Zelandoni of the Seventh Cave. Your mother is now the spiritual leader of the Second,” Willamar said.

“The one who was Zelandoni of the Second Cave before her, the one who taught me to make images, walks the next world now,” Jonokol added. “That was a sad day for me, but your mother is a good Donier.”

“Why did you think Kimeran and Jondecam would be here?” Farnadal asked.

“They were supposed to leave shortly after we did and come straight here. We made stops along the way,” the Zelandoni Who Was First said. “I am taking Ayla on her Donier Tour, and Jonokol, too—I should say Zelandoni of the Nineteenth. We never made much of a Tour when he was my acolyte, and he needs to visit some of the Sacred Sites. From here we were all going to travel together to see one of the most important painted caves. It is in the southeast of Zelandonii territory, and then we’ll visit relatives of Kimeran’s mate, Beladora. She is from the Giornadonii, the people who live on the long peninsula that juts into the Southern Sea, south of the eastern Zelandonii territory.

“As a young man, Kimeran traveled with his sister-mother on her Donier Tour to the northern end of the Giornadonii territory. He met Beladora, mated her, and brought her back with him. The story is similar to Amelana’s,” the First said, indicating the pretty, young woman in their group, “but this young woman’s story is much less fortunate. Her mate now walks in the next world, and she wanted to return to her own people. She misses her mother. She is carrying new life, and would like to be near her mother when her child is born.”

“That’s understandable,” Camora said, smiling sympathetically at Amelana. “No matter how kind people may be, a woman always wants her own mother with her when she gives birth, especially the first time.”

Ayla and the First exchanged quick glances. Camora probably missed her people. Even though a woman might find a visitor from another place so attractive that she just had to go away with him, it apparently wasn’t so easy to live with the strangers who were the kin of her mate. Though they might be people from the same territory, with beliefs and customs generally similar, each Cave had its own ways, and a new person was always at a disadvantage in terms of status.

Ayla recognized that her situation was not the same as the two young women. Although she was called Ayla of the Mamutoi, she had been more of a stranger to them than she had been to the Zelandonii, and they to her. When she left the Clan, she had hoped to find people like herself, but she didn’t know where to look. She had lived alone in a pleasant valley for several years until she found Jondalar, who had been wounded by a lion. Except for him, the Mamutoi were the first of her kind she had met since she lost her family when she was a child of five. She had been raised by the Clan, who were not just people of a different Cave or terrritory, or with dissimilar hair or eyes or skin, or who spoke an unknown language. The people of the Clan were genuinely different. Their language capabilities were distinctive, the way they thought, the way their brains functioned was unusual, even the shape of their heads and to some extent their bodies were not quite the same.