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Authors: Jean M. Auel

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Suddenly, the big flathead made a grunting sound and waved his arm. Thonolan almost threw his spear, but he caught Jondalar’s gesture waving him back just in time. Only the young flathead had moved, and he ran back into the bushes they had just stepped out of. He returned quickly, carrying the spear Thonolan had thrown, and, to his amazement, brought it to him. Then the young one went to the river near the log bridge and fished out a stone. He returned to the big one with it and seemed to bow his head, looking contrite. The next instant, all six melted back into the brush without a sound.

Thonolan breathed a sigh of relief when he realized they were gone. “I didn’t think we were going to get out of that one! But I was sure going to take one of them down with me. I wonder what that was all about?”

“I’m not sure,” Jondalar replied, “but it could be that young one started something the big one didn’t want to finish, and I don’t think it was because he was afraid. It took nerve to stand there and face your spear, and then make the move he did.”

“Maybe he just didn’t know any better.”

“He knew. He saw you throw that first spear. Why else would he tell that youngster to go get it and give it back to you?”

“You really think he told him to do it? How? They can’t talk.”

“I don’t know, but somehow that big one told the young one to give you back your spear and get his stone. Like that would make everything even. No one was hurt, so I guess it did. You know, I’m not so sure flatheads are just animals. That was smart. And I didn’t know they wore furs and carried weapons, and walked just like we do.”

“Well, I know why they’re called flatheads! And they were a mean-looking bunch. I would not want to tangle with one of them hand to hand.”

“I know—they look like they could break your arm like a piece of kindling. I always thought they were small.”

“Short, maybe, but not small. Definitely not small. Big Brother, I’ve got to admit, you were right. Let’s go visit the Losadunai. They live so close, they must know more about
flatheads. Besides, the Great Mother River seems to be a boundary, and I don’t think flatheads want us on their side.”

The two men hiked for several days looking for landmarks given them by Dalanar, following the stream that was no different in character at this stage from the other streamlets, rills, and creeks flowing down the slope. It was only convention that selected this particular one as the source of the Great Mother River. Most of them came together to form the beginning of the great river that would rush down hills and meander through plains for eighteen hundred miles before she emptied her load of water and silt into the inland sea far to the southeast.

The crystalline rocks of the massif that gave rise to the mighty river were among the most ancient on the earth, and its broad depression was formed by the extravagant pressures that had heaved up and folded the rugged mountains glistening in prodigal splendor. More than three hundred tributaries, many of them large rivers, draining the slopes of the ranges all along her course, would be gathered into her voluminous swells. And one day her fame would spread to the far reaches of the globe, and her muddy, silty waters would be called blue.

Modified by mountains and massifs, the influence of both the oceanic west and the continental east was felt. Vegetable and animal life were a mixture of the western tundra-taiga and the eastern steppes. The upper slopes saw ibex, chamois, and mouflon; in the woodlands deer were more common. Tarpan, a wild horse that would one day be tame, grazed the sheltered lowlands and river terraces. Wolves, lynxes, and snow leopards slunk noiselessly through shadows. Lumbering out of hibernation were omnivorous brown bears; the huge vegetarian cave bears would make a later appearance. And many small mammals were poking noses out of winter nests.

The slopes were forested mostly with pine, though spruce, silver fir, and larch were seen. Alder was more prevalent near the river, often with willow and poplar, and rarely, dwarfed to little more than prostrate shrubs, pubescent oak and beech.

The left bank ascended from the river in a gradual grade. Jondalar and Thonolan climbed it until they reached the summit of a high hill. Looking out over the landscape, the two men saw rugged, wild, beautiful country, softened by
the layer of white that filled hollows and smoothed outcrops. But the deception made traveling difficult.

They had not seen any of the several groups of people—such groups were thought of as Caves whether they lived in one or not—who referred to themselves as Losadunai. Jondalar was beginning to think they had missed them.

“Look!” Thonolan pointed.

Jondalar followed the direction of his outstretched arm and saw a wisp of smoke rising out of a wooded copse. They hurried ahead and soon came upon a small band of people clustered around a fire. The brothers strode into their midst raising both hands in front of them, palms up, in the understood greeting of openness and friendship.

“I am Thonolan of the Zelandonii. This is my brother, Jondalar. We are on our Journey. Does anyone here speak our tongue?”

A middle-aged man stepped forward, holding his hands out in the same manner. “I am Laduni of the Losadunai. In the name of Duna, the Great Earth Mother, you are welcome.” He gripped both of Thonolan’s hands with his and then greeted Jondalar in the same manner. “Come, sit by the fire. We will eat soon. Will you join us?”

“You are most generous,” Jondalar replied formally.

“I traveled west on my Journey, stayed with a Cave of Zelandonii. It’s been some years, but Zelandonii are always welcome.” He led them to a large log near the fire. A lean-to had been constructed over it as protection from wind and weather. “Here, rest, take your pack off. You must have just come off the glacier.”

“A few days ago,” Thonolan said, shrugging off his backframe.

“You are late for crossing. The foehn will come any time now.”

“The foehn?” Thonolan asked.

“The spring wind. Warm and dry, out of the southwest. It blows so hard trees are uprooted, limbs torn off. But it melts the snow very quickly. Within days, all this can be gone and buds starting,” Laduni explained, moving his arm in a broad sweep to indicate the snow. “If it catches you on the glacier, it can be fatal. The ice melts so quickly, crevasses open up. Snow bridges and cornices give way beneath your feet. Streams, even rivers, start flowing across the ice.”

“And it always brings the Malaise,” a young woman added, picking up the thread of Laduni’s story.

“Malaise?” Thonolan directed his question to her.

“Evil spirits that fly on the wind. They make everyone irritable. People who never fight suddenly start arguing. Happy people are crying all the time. The spirits can make you sick, or if you are already sick, they can make you want to die. It helps if you know what to expect, but everyone is in a bad mood then.”

“Where did you learn to speak Zelandonii so well?” Thonolan asked, smiling at the attractive young woman appreciatively.

The young woman returned Thonolan’s look as frankly, but rather than answering, looked over to Laduni.

“Thonolan of the Zelandonii, this is Filonia of the Losadunai, and the daughter of my hearth,” Laduni said, quick to understand her unspoken request for a formal introduction. It let Thonolan know she thought well of herself and didn’t converse with strangers without proper introductions, not even handsome exciting strangers on a Journey.

Thonolan held out his hands in the formal greeting gesture, his eyes appraising and showing approval. She hesitated a moment, as though considering, then put her hands in his. He pulled her closer. “Filonia of the Losadunai, Thonolan of the Zelandonii is honored the Great Earth Mother has favored him with the gift of your presence,” he said with a knowing grin.

Filonia flushed slightly at the bold innuendo she knew he intended with his allusion to the Gift of the Mother, though his words were as formal as his gesture seemed to be. She felt a tingle of excitement from his touch, and the sparkle of invitation was in her eyes.

“Now tell me,” Thonolan continued, “where did you learn Zelandonii?”

“My cousin and I went across the glacier on our Journey and lived for a while with a Zelandonii Cave. Laduni had already taught us some—he talks with us often in your tongue so he won’t forget it. He crosses every few years to trade. He wanted me to learn more.”

Thonolan still held her hands and smiled at her. “Women don’t often make long and dangerous Journeys. What if Doni had blessed you?”

“It wasn’t really that long,” she said, pleased with his obvious admiration. “I would have known soon enough to get back.”

“It was as long a Journey as many men make,” he insisted.

Jondalar, watching the interplay, turned to Laduni. “He’s done it again,” he said, grinning. “My brother never fails to single out the most attractive woman in sight and have her charmed within the first three heartbeats.”

Laduni chuckled. “Filonia’s young yet. She only had her Rites of First Pleasures last summer, but she’s had enough admirers since then to turn her head. Ah, to be young again, and new to the Gift of Pleasure from the Great Earth Mother. Not that I don’t enjoy it still, but I’m comfortable with my mate and don’t have the same urge to seek new excitement often.” He turned to the tall blond man. “We’re just a hunting party and don’t have many women with us, but you shouldn’t have any problem finding one of our blessed of Duna willing to share the Gift. If none suits you, we have a large Cave, and visitors are always a reason for a festival to honor the Mother.”

“I’m afraid we won’t be going with you to your Cave. We’ve just started. Thonolan wants to make a long Journey and is anxious to get moving. Perhaps on our way back, if you’ll give us directions.”

“I’m sorry you won’t be visiting—we haven’t had many visitors lately. How far do you plan to go?”

“Thonolan talks about following Donau all the way to the end. But everyone talks about a long Journey when they begin. Who can tell?”

“I thought the Zelandonii lived close to the Great Water; at least they did when I made my Journey. I traveled a long way west, and then south. Did you say you just started out?”

“I should explain. You’re right, the Great Water is only a few days from our Cave, but Dalanar of the Lanzadonii was mated to my mother when I was born, and his Cave is like home to me, too. I lived there for three years while he taught me my craft. My brother and I stayed with them. The only distance we’ve traveled since we left is across the glacier, and the couple of days to get there.”

“Dalanar! Of course! I thought you looked familiar. You must be a child of his spirit; you look so much like him. And a flint knapper, too. If you are as much like him as you look, you must be good. He’s the best I’ve ever seen. I was going to visit him next year to get some flint from the Lanzadonii mine. There is no better stone.”

People were gathering around the fire with wooden bowls, and the delicious smells coming from that direction made
Jondalar conscious of his hunger. He picked up his backframe to move it out of the way, then had a thought. “Laduni, I have some Lanzadonii flint with me. I was going to use it to replace broken tools along the way, but it’s heavy to carry, and I wouldn’t mind unloading a stone or two. I’d be happy to give it to you if you’d like it.”

Laduni’s eyes lit up. “I’d be happy to take it, but I’d want to give you something in return. I don’t mind getting the better side of a good trade, but I wouldn’t want to cheat the son of Dalanar’s hearth.”

Jondalar grinned. “You’re already offering to lighten my load and feed me a hot meal.”

“That’s hardly enough for good Lanzadonii stone. You make it too easy, Jondalar. You hurt my pride.”

A good-natured crowd was gathering around them, and when Jondalar laughed, they joined in.

“All right, Laduni, I won’t make it easy. Right now, there’s nothing I want—I’m trying to lighten my load. I’ll ask you for a future claim. Are you willing?”

“Now he wants to cheat me,” the man said to the crowd, grinning. “At least name it.”

“How can I name it? But I’ll want to collect it on my way back, agreed?”

“How do I know I can give it?”

“I won’t ask what you can’t give.”

“Your terms are hard, Jondalar, but if I can, I’ll give you whatever you ask. Agreed.”

Jondalar opened his backframe, took out the things on top, then pulled out his pouch and gave Laduni two nodules of flint already prepared. “Dalanar selected them and did the preliminary work,” he said.

Laduni’s expression made it obvious he didn’t mind getting two pieces of flint selected and prepared by Dalanar for the son of his hearth, but he mumbled, loud enough for everyone to hear, “I’m probably trading my life for two pieces of stone.” No one made any comment about the probability of Jondalar ever returning to collect.

“Jondalar, are you going to stand around talking forever?” Thonolan said. “We’ve been asked to share a meal, and that venison smells good.” He had a big grin on his face, and Filonia was by his side.

“Yes, the food is ready,” she said, “and the hunting has been so good, we haven’t used much of the dried meat we took with us. Now that you’ve lightened your load, you’ll
have room to take some with you, won’t you?” she added with a sly smile at Laduni.

“It would be most welcome. Laduni, you have yet to introduce me to the lovely daughter of your hearth,” Jondalar said.

“It’s a terrible day when the daughter of your own hearth undermines your trades,” he mumbled, but his smile was full of pride. “Jondalar of the Zelandonii, Filonia of the Losadunai.”

She turned to look at the older brother, and suddenly found herself lost in overwhelmingly vivid blue eyes smiling down at her. She flushed with mixed emotions as she found herself drawn now to the other brother, and bowed her head to hide her confusion.

“Jondalar! Don’t think I can’t see that gleam in your eyes. Remember, I saw her first,” Thonolan joked. “Come on, Filonia, I’m going to get you away from here. Let me warn you, stay away from that brother of mine. Believe me, you don’t want to have anything to do with him, I know.” He turned to Laduni and said in mock injury, “He does it every time. One look, that’s all it takes. If only I had been born with my brother’s gifts.”

BOOK: The Valley of Horses
13.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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