The Shelters of Stone (109 page)

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Authors: Jean M. Auel

Tags: #Historical fiction

BOOK: The Shelters of Stone
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After the young acolyte had gone, several of those who were there finally gave in to the smile they had been struggling to keep from making. “You have made that young man very happy, Zelandoni,” Jondalar said. “He was almost glowing with pleasure. Do all the zelandonia hold you in such awe?”

“Only the young ones,” Zelandoni replied. “The way the rest argue with me, I sometimes wonder why they continue to name me First. Perhaps because I’m more portentous than they are,” she said, and smiled. She meant it as a pun on her rather portly size.

Jondalar smiled back, getting the joke. Marthona just gave her a meaningful glance with arched eyebrows. Ayla noticed the exchange and thought she understood, but wasn’t
certain. The subtleties that came from deep understanding of someone known for a long time were still beyond her here.

“I think I’d rather have the arguing, though,” Zelandoni continued. “It can be a little trying to have every word you speak treated as if it came straight from the mouth of Doni Herself. It makes me feel that I have to be careful about everything I say.”

“Who does decide which one of the zelandonia is First Among Those Who Serve The Mother?” Jondalar asked. “Is it like the leader of a Cave? Does each Zelandoni just say who they think it should be? Does everyone have to agree, or most of them, or just certain ones?”

“The choices of the individual zelandonia are part of it, but it’s not as simple as that. Many things are considered. A gift for healing is one, and no one judges that more severely than zelandonia healers. A person may be able to cover up some ineptitude to people in general, but you can’t deceive someone who knows. But healing is not absolutely essential. There have been Firsts who had only a rudimentary knowledge of healing, but it was more than compensated for by ability in other areas. Some have natural gifts or other attributes.”

“We only hear about the First. Is there a Second, or a Third? Someone who can step in if something happens to the First? And is there a Last?” Jondalar asked, warming to the subject. Everyone was interested. Zelandoni wasn’t often so forthcoming about the inner workings of the zelandonia, but she was noticing Ayla’s interest and had her reasons for being so uncommonly candid.

“The order does not descend individually. There are ranks. It would be difficult for a Cave to accept a donier who was Last Among Those Who Serve, wouldn’t it? The acolytes are the lowest rank, of course, but there are ranks within the acolytes, too, sometimes depending on particular skills. You may have guessed that the young man who is the Fourth Acolyte of the Zelandoni of the Fifth Cave was just recently accepted. He is a novice, the lowest rank, but he has potential or he would not have been accepted. Some don’t
want to go beyond acolyte. They don’t want to take on the full burden of responsibility, they only want to exercise their skill, and can do it best within the zelandonia.

“After the acolytes, the next lowest rank are the new doniers. Every Zelandoni must feel they have personally been called, and more than that, they must convince the rest of the zelandonia that it was a true calling. Some never get beyond the rank of acolyte, even though they may want to. Sometimes acolytes want to be a Zelandoni so much, they try to claim a false call or even feign one, but they are invariably rejected. One who has been through the ordeal knows the difference. It has made some acolytes—and former acolytes—very bitter.”

“What else is required to become a Zelandoni,” Jondalar pressed, “and what is especially needed to be the One Who Is First?” The rest were happy to let him do the asking. Though some of them, such as Marthona, who was once an acolyte herself, knew most of the requirements, few of the others who were there had ever had their questions to Zelandoni answered so directly.

“To become one of the zelandonia, one must memorize all the Histories and Elder Legends, and have a good comprehension of their meaning. One must know the counting words and how to use them, the coming of the seasons, the phases of the moon, and some things that are only for the zelandonia to know. But perhaps most important, one must be able to visit the world of the spirits,” Zelandoni said. “That is why one must truly be called. Most zelandonia know from the beginning who will be First, and who is most likely to be the next one. The first time one feels the call to venture into the spirit world, it may be revealed. Being First is also a calling, and not a calling every Zelandoni wants.”

“What is it like, the spirit world? Is it frightening? Are you afraid when you have to go there?” he asked next.

“Jondalar, no one can describe the spirit world to one who has never been there. And yes, it is frightening, especially the first time. It never entirely ceases to be frightening, but with meditation and preparation, it can be controlled,
along with the knowledge that the zelandonia, and particularly the Cave, is there to help. Without the help of the people of one’s Cave, it could be difficult to return,” she explained.

“But if it’s frightening, why do you do it?” Jondalar asked.

“There is no way to refuse it.”

Ayla suddenly felt a chilling cold, and shuddered.

“Many try to fight it, and some succeed for a while,” the donier continued, “but in the end the Mother will have Her way. It is best to go prepared. The dangers are never kept from one who may think to venture in that direction, that is why the initiation can be so grueling. The test on the other side is even worse. You may feel that you are torn apart, scattered to the whirlwind and the dark unknown. Some go and never return to their body. Some who do return leave part of themselves behind, and they are never quite right afterward. But no one can go and remain unchanged.

“And once you get the call, you must accept it, and the duties and responsibilities along with it. I think that’s why so few of the zelandonia are mated. There are no restrictions on mating, or having children, but it is much like being a leader. It can be difficult to find a mate who is willing to live with someone who has so many demands made on them. Isn’t that right, Marthona?” Zelandoni asked.

“Yes, Zelandoni,” she answered, then she smiled at Dalanar before turning to her son. “Why do you think Dalanar and I severed the knot, Jondalar? We talked about it the day after your mating. It was more than his urge to travel—Willamar has that, too. In many ways, Dalanar and I were too much alike. He’s happy now that he’s leader of his own Cave—his own people, really—but it took him a while to understand that was what he really wanted. He fought the responsibility for a long time, but I think that was why he was drawn to me in the first place. Joconan had died and I was already leader when we mated. We were very happy at first. But he became restless. It was for the best that we parted. Jerika is the right woman for him. She is strong willed, and he needs a strong woman, but Dalanar is leader.”
The two she mentioned looked at each other and smiled, then Dalanar reached for Jerika’s hand.

“Losaduna is the One Who Serves for the people who live on the other side of the glacier. He has a mate, and his mate has four children. She seems very happy,” Ayla interjected. She had been listening to Zelandoni with a fascination that was akin to fear.

“Losaduna is fortunate to have found a woman like her. Just as I was fortunate to find Willamar,” Marthona said. “I was very reluctant to mate again, but I’m glad he persisted.” She turned to smile at him. “I suppose that’s one reason I finally passed on the leadership. I was leader for many years with Willamar beside me, and we never had a problem over it, but I grew tired of the demands. I wanted some time to myself, and I wanted to have some time to share with Willamar. After Folara came along, I wanted to be a mother again. Joharran seemed to have the potential, so I started to prepare him, and when he was old enough, I was glad to pass the responsibility on to him. He is very much like Joconan, I’m sure he’s the son of Joconan’s spirit.” She smiled at her eldest son. “I still keep a hand in. Joharran often consults with me, though I think he does it for my sake, not his.”

“That’s not true, mother. I value your advice,” Joharran said.

“Did you love Dalanar very much, mother?” Jondalar asked. “You know there are songs and stories about your love.” He had heard them, but he’d often wondered, if it was really so strong, how could they have parted?

“Yes, I loved him, Jondalar. A small part of me still does. It is not easy to forget someone you have loved that much, and I’m glad we are still friends. I think we are better friends now than when we were mated.” She noticed her elder son. “I still love Joconan, too. His memory remains with me and reminds me of when I was a young woman and in love for the first time, even though it took him a while to decide what he wanted,” she added rather cryptically.

Jondalar remembered the story he had heard about his
mother on his Journey. “You mean between you and Bodoa or both?” he asked.

“Bodoa! I haven’t heard that name in a long time,” Zelandoni said. “Isn’t she the foreign woman who was being trained by the zelandonia? From some eastern people, what were they called? Zar … Sard … something.”

“S’Armunai,” Jondalar said.

“That’s it. I was still young when she left, but it’s said she was quite skilled,” Zelandoni said.

“She is S’Armuna now. Ayla and I met her on our Journey. The S’Armunai Wolf Women captured me, and Ayla followed their trail and came after me. We were lucky to get away from them alive. If it hadn’t been for Wolf, I don’t think either one of us would be here. You can imagine how surprised I was to find someone among those people who not only knew how to speak Zelandonii, but knew my mother!”

“What happened?” several people asked.

Jondalar briefly related the story of the cruel woman Attaroa and the S’Armunai Camp she had perverted. “Although S’Armuna helped Attaroa in the beginning, she regretted it and finally decided to help her people and try to correct the problems Attaroa caused.” Everyone shook their heads in wonder.

“That’s the most oudandish story I’ve ever heard,” Zelandoni said, “but it shows what can happen when a donier becomes warped. I think Bodoa could have gone far if she hadn’t abused her power. It’s lucky for her that she finally came to her senses. It is said One Who Serves The Mother will pay in the next world if they misuse their power in this one. That’s one reason the zelandonia are so careful about whom they accept. There is no turning back. It’s one way we are different from leaders of a Cave. A Zelandoni is a Zelandoni for life. Even if we may sometimes want to, we cannot drop the burden.”

Everyone was quiet for a while, thinking about the story Jondalar had told. They looked up when Ramara came by. “I’m supposed to let you know, Joharran, that they brought
the rhino in. Jondalar gets credit, it was his spear that killed him.”

“I’m glad to hear that, thank you, Ramara.”

Ramara would have liked to stay and hear what everyone was talking about, but she did have other things to do, and she wasn’t specifically invited, although no one would have told her go.

“You have first choice, Jondalar,” Joharran said after she left. “Are you going to take the horn?”

“I don’t dunk so. I’d rather have the fur.”

“Tell me what happened out there with that rhino,” Joharran asked.

Jondalar told how they happened to see the young men baiting the woolly rhinoceros and stopped to watch. “I didn’t realize how young they were until after the accident. I don’t think they wanted the rhino as much as they wanted admiration and praise, and to be the envy of their friends.”

“None of them had any experience with rhinos, and not much with hunting. They shouldn’t have tried to get one on their own. This was a hard way for them to learn that hunting rhinos, or any animal, is not really a game,” Joharran said.

“But it is true that if they had brought in that woolly rhinoceros by themselves, they would have been highly praised, and the envy of their friends,” Marthona said. “In one sense, this accident, terrible as it was, may help prevent future attempts and even worse tragedies. Think how many youngsters would be trying the same thing if they had succeeded. This way, it may make others think again before they attempt such a game, at least for a while. The mother of this young man may suffer and worry, but it may spare other mothers even more grief. I just hope Matagan survives without severe crippling.”

“As soon as Ayla saw the rhino gore him, she raced to help,” Jondalar said. “It’s not the first time she’s rushed into a dangerous situation when someone is hurt, but she worries me sometimes.”

“He was very lucky that she was there. I’m sure he would be crippled for life, or worse, if someone hadn’t been
there who knew what to do,” Zelandoni said, then to Ayla: “Exactly what did you do first?”

Ayla explained in general. Zelandoni drew her out for more detail, and her reasoning. In the guise of interested conversation, Zelandoni was examining Ayla’s knowledge of the healing arts. Though she hadn’t mentioned it yet, the One Who Was First was trying to arrange a formal meeting of the zelandonia so they could learn the extent of Ayla’s training, but she was glad for this opportunity to question her alone first. It was unfortunate for poor Matagan, but Zelandoni was glad for this demonstration of her skills to the whole Summer Meeting. It gave her this opportunity to begin to approach the zelandonia with the idea of her entering into their alliance.

Zelandoni had already reevaluated her first impression several times, but now she looked at the young woman in an entirely new light. Ayla was no novice. She was an equal, a true colleague. It was entirely possible that Zelandoni might learn a few things from her. Those club moss spores, for example. That was an application Zelandoni had not used, but upon reflection, it was probably a good procedure. She was anxious to talk to Ayla alone, to compare ideas and knowledge, and it would be good to have someone to talk with at the Ninth Cave.

Zelandoni did work with the other zelandonia in the region and discussed professional matters with colleagues during the Summer Meetings. She had a couple of acolytes, of course, though she had no serious acolyte interested in healing. To have a true healer within her own Cave, especially one who brought new knowledge, that could be very worthwhile.

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