The Shelters of Stone (58 page)

Jondalar woke up remembering the discussion about abelans and how important it was to Ayla to feel that she belonged. Since she had no memory of her own people, and no longer had any connection with the people who had raised her, it was understandable. She had even left behind the Mamutoi, who had made her one of them, to go home with him. The thought preyed on his mind all through the meal with Joharran’s family. Everyone there belonged to the Zelandonii, they were all his family, his Cave, his people. Only Ayla was not. It was true they would soon be mated, but she would still be “Ayla of the Mamutoi, mated to Jondalar of the Zelandonii.”

After a discussion with Joharran about the spear-thrower, exchanging anecdotes with Willamar about traveling, and general conversation with everyone about the Summer Meeting, the talk turned to Jondalar and Ayla’s mating at the First Matrimonial. Marthona was explaining to Ayla that there were two mating ceremonies each summer. The first, and usually the biggest one, was held as early as reasonably possible. Most people who would be joined then had been making the arrangements for some time. The second one was conducted shortly before they left and usually mated those who decided to tie the knot during the summer. There were also two womanhood ceremonies, one shortly after
they arrived and the second just before the Summer Meeting ended.

Impulsively Jondalar interrupted her explanations. “I would like Ayla to belong, to become one of us. After we are mated, I would like her to be ‘Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii,’ not ‘Ayla of the Mamutoi.’ I know that is usually a decision that a person’s mother, or the man of her hearth, makes when that person wants to change affiliation, along with the leaders and Zelandonia, but Mamut gave the choice to Ayla when she left. If she is willing, can I have your agreement, mother?”

Marthona was startled by the suddenness of his request and was caught off guard. “I would not refuse you, Jondalar,” she said, feeling that her son had put her in an untenable position to ask such a thing in public without warning. “But it is not entirely up to me. I am happy to welcome Ayla to the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, but it is your brother, and Zelandoni, and others, including Ayla herself, who have a say in that decision.”

Folara grinned, knowing that her mother did not like to be taken by surprise like that. It rather pleased her that Jondalar had caught her without warning, but she had to admit, Marthona had recovered well.

“Well, I for one would not hesitate to accept her,” Willamar said. “I would even adopt her, but since I am mated to your mother, Jondalar, I’m afraid it would make her a sister, like Folara, an unmatable woman. I don’t think you would want that.”

“No, but I appreciate the thought,” Jondalar said.

“Why do you bring it up now?” Marthona asked, still a little miffed.

“It seemed as good a time as any,” Jondalar said. “We’ll be leaving soon for the Summer Meeting, and I would like it settled before we go. I know we haven’t been home very long, but most of you have gotten to know Ayla. I think she would be a valuable addition to the Ninth Cave.”

Ayla was more than a little surprised, too, but she said nothing. Do I want to be adopted by the Zelandonii? She
asked herself. Does it matter? If Jondalar and I are going to be mated, I will be the same as one, whether I have the name or not. He seems to want it. I’m not sure why, but maybe he has a good reason. He knows his people much better than I do.

“Perhaps I should tell you something, Jondalar,” Joharran said. “I think to those of us who know her, Ayla would be a more than acceptable addition to our Cave, but not everyone feels that way. When I was walking back from Down River, I decided to tell Laramar and some others about the bison feast, and when I approached, I overheard them talking. I’m sorry to say, they were making disparaging remarks, in particular about her healing skills and treatment of Shevonar. They seem to feel that anyone who learned healing from … the Clan, could not know much. It’s their prejudice talking, I’m afraid. I told them no one, not even Zelandoni, could have done more, and I must admit they made me angry. That’s not always the best time to make a point.”

So that’s why he was so angry, Ayla thought. The knowledge gave her mixed feelings. She was upset by what those men said about Iza’s healing abilities, but pleased that Joharran had spoken up for her.

“All the more reason to make her one of us now,” Jondalar said. “You know those men. They do nothing but gamble and drink Laramar’s barma. They haven’t even bothered to learn a craft or a skill, unless you consider gambling one. They are not even decent hunters. They are lazy, worthless men who contribute nothing, unless they’re shamed into it, and they have little shame. They will do anything to avoid making an effort toward helping the Cave, and everyone knows it. No one will pay attention to what they say if the ones people respect are willing to accept her and make her Zelandonii.” He was obviously upset. He wanted Ayla to be accepted for herself, and this put a different character on it.

“That’s not entirely true about Laramar, Jondalar,” Proleva said. “He may be lazy about most things, and I don’t think he likes to hunt much, but Laramar does have a skill. He can make a drinkable beverage out of almost anything that will ferment. I’ve known him to use grains, fruits, honey,
birch sap, even some roots, and turn out a drink that most people like, and he makes it for almost every occasion when people get together. It’s true, some people overdo it, but he’s just the provider.”

“I wish he was a provider,” Marthona said with a scornful edge. “Then maybe the children of his hearth wouldn’t have to beg for everything they need. Tell me, Joharran, how often is he too ‘sick’ in the mornings to join a hunting party?”

“I thought food was for everyone, as they need it,” Ayla said.

“Food, yes. They won’t starve, but for everything else, they have to depend on the goodwill and generosity of other people,” the First said.

“But if, as Proleva says, he has the skill to make a very good drink that everyone likes, can’t he exchange that for whatever his family needs?” Ayla said.

“He could, yes, but he doesn’t,” Proleva said.

“What about his mate? Can’t she convince him to contribute to his family?” Ayla said.

“Tremeda? She’s even worse than Laramar. All she does is drink his barma and produce more children that she doesn’t take care of,” Marthona said.

“What does Laramar do with all the drink he makes if he doesn’t trade it for things for his family?” Ayla wanted to know.

“I’m not sure,” Willamar said, “But he would have to trade some of it for ingredients to make more.”

“It’s true, he always manages to trade for what he wants, but he never has enough for his mate and her children,” Proleva said. “It’s a good thing that Tremeda doesn’t seem to mind asking people to give her things for her ‘poor children.’ ”

“And he does drink a lot of it himself,” Joharran said. “Tremeda does, too. I think he gives a good measure away. There is always a bunch around him hoping for drinks. I think he likes to have them around. He probably thinks they’re his friends, but I wonder how long they’d stay if he stopped giving them barma.”

“Not long, I’d guess,” Willamar said. “But I don’t think Laramar and his friends are the ones to decide whether Ayla becomes Zelandonii.”

“You are right, Trade Master. I think there’s no question that we would have no problem accepting Ayla, but maybe we should let Ayla decide,” Zelandoni said. “No one has asked her if she wants to be a woman of the Zelandonii.”

All heads turned to look at her. Now she was the one who felt uncomfortable. It was a while before she said anything, which made Jondalar a bit nervous. Maybe he had misjudged her. Maybe she didn’t want to become Zelandonii. Maybe he should have asked her first before he started this, but with all the talk about Matrimoniáis, it seemed an appropriate time. Finally Ayla spoke.

“When I decided to leave the Mamutoi and go with Jondalar back to his home, I knew how the Zelandonii felt about the Clan, the people who raised me, and I knew that you might not want me. I admit I was a little afraid to meet his family, his people.” She stopped for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts and find the right words to say what she felt.

“I’m a stranger to you, a foreign woman, with strange ideas and ways. I brought animals that live with me and asked you to accept them. Horses are animals that are usually hunted, and I wanted you to make a place for them. I have just been thinking today that I would like to make a covered shelter for them at the south end of the Ninth Cave, not far from Down River. During the winter, the horses are used to having a refuge that is out of the weather. I also brought a wolf, a meat-eating hunter. Some of his kind have been known to attack people, and I asked you to allow me to bring him inside, to sleep in the same dwelling that I sleep in.” She smiled at Jondalar’s mother.

“You didn’t hesitate, Marthona. You invited me and Wolf to share your home. And Joharran, you allowed the horses to stay nearby, and let me take them right up. on the ledge in front of your dwellings. Brun, the leader of my cfan, would not have. You all listened when I explained about the Clan, and you didn’t turn me away. You were willing to consider
that the ones you call flatheads might be people, perhaps a different kind of people, but not animals. I didn’t expect that you would be so thoughtful, but I am grateful.

“It’s true that not everyone has been kind, but many more of you have defended me, though you hardly know me. I’ve been here only a short rime. It may be because of Jondalar, because you trust that he would not bring someone who would try to harm his people or that you could not accept.” She stopped and closed her eyes for a moment, then continued.

“For all my fears about meeting Jondalar’s family and his people, the Zelandonii, when I left I knew there would be no turning back. I didn’t know how you would feel about me, but it didn’t matter. I love Jondalar. I want to spend my life with him. I was willing to do whatever was needed, to put up with whatever I had to, to be with him. But you have welcomed me, and now you ask if I want to become Zelandonii.” She closed her eyes to maintain her control and tried to swallow the fullness in her throat.

“I have wanted that since I first saw Jondalar, and wasn’t even sure if he would live. I grieved for his brother, not because I knew him, but because I recognized him. It troubled me that I would never have an opportunity to know one of the first people of my own kind that I could remember seeing. I don’t know what language I spoke before the Clan found me and took me in. I learned to communicate the way the Clan does, but the first language I can remember speaking is Zelandonii. Even if I don’t speak it quite right, I think of it as my language. But before we could even speak to each other, I wished that I was one of Jondalar’s people so that I would be acceptable to him, so that someday he might consider me for his mate. Even if it was his second or third woman, it would have been enough.

“You ask me, do I want to be a Zelandonii woman? Oh, yes, I want to be a Zelandonii woman. With all my heart I want to be a Zelandonii woman. I want that more than I have ever wanted anything in my life,” she said, her eyes sparkling with tears.

There was a stunned silence. Without even realizing how he got there, Jondalar had taken the few steps to reach her and take her in his arms. He felt so much for her, there were no words to convey it. He thought it was amazing that she could be so strong and yet so vulnerable. There wasn’t a person there who wasn’t moved. Even Jaradal had some understanding of what she said. Folara’s cheeks were wet with tears, and several others were close to it. Marthona was the first to regain her composure.

“I, for one, am happy to welcome you to the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii,” she said, hugging her in a spontaneous gesture. “And I’ll be glad to see Jondalar settle down with you, though there may be several women who would wish otherwise. Women have always loved him, but I sometimes doubted that he would find a woman he could love. I thought that he might not choose someone from among our people, but I didn’t think he would have to travel so far. Now I know there must have been some reason that he did, because I understand why he loves you. You are a rare woman, Ayla.”

They started talking about the Summer Meeting again, and when they would be leaving, and Zelandoni mentioned that they still had time to have a small ceremony to bring Ayla into the Ninth Cave and make her a Zelandonii woman.

Just then there was an urgent knocking on the panel next to the entrance, but before anyone could respond, a girl burst in and ran to Zelandoni, obviously very distressed. Ayla thought she could count perhaps ten years, but was surprised at how tattered, stained, and dirty her clothes were.

“Zelandoni,” she said, “they told me you were here. I can’t get Bologan up.”

“Is he sick? Did he hurt himself?” Zelandoni asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Ayla, why don’t you come with me. This is Tremeda’s daughter, Lanoga. Bologan is her eldest brother,” Zelandoni said.

“Isn’t Tremeda Laramar’s mate?” Ayla asked.

“Yes,” Zelandoni said as they hurried off together.