Plains of Passage (129 page)

She would particularly miss Jerika and Dalanar, and listening to their heated “discussions.” The woman was tiny; when Dalanar held his arm out, she could walk under it with room to spare, but she had an indomitable will. She was as much a leader of the Cave as he was and argued vociferously when her opinion differed from his. Dalanar listened to her seriously, but by no means did he always yield. The welfare of his people was his main concern, and he often took the question at issue to them, but he made most decisions himself as matter-of-factly as any natural leader. He never made demands, he simply commanded respect.

After the first few times, when she misunderstood, Ayla loved to listen to them argue, hardly bothering to hide a smile at the sight of the child-size woman in heated debate with the giant of a man. What amazed her most was the way they could interrupt a violent discussion with a tender word of affection, or to talk of something else, just as though they had not been at each other’s throats, and then resume the
verbal combat as though they were the bitterest of enemies. Once the arguments were resolved, they were promptly forgotten. But they seemed to enjoy the intellectual duels, and for all their difference in size, it was a battle of equals. They not only loved each other, they had great respect for each other.

   The weather was warming and spring was in full bloom when Ayla and Jondalar started out again. Dalanar passed on good wishes to the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, and he reminded them again of his offer. They had both felt welcome, but Ayla’s sensitivity to Joplaya made it difficult for her to think about living with the Lanzadonii. It would be too hard on both of them, but it was not something she could explain to Jondalar.

He did sense a peculiar strain in the relationship between the two women, though they seemed to like each other. Joplaya behaved differently toward him, too. She was more distant, didn’t joke and tease the way she always had. But he had been surprised at the vehemence of her last embrace. Tears had filled her eyes. He had reminded her that he was not going on a long Journey, he had just come back, and they would see each other soon, at the Summer Meeting.

He had been relieved that they had both been so warmly welcomed, and he would definitely consider Dalanar’s offer, particularly if the Zelandonii were not as accepting of Ayla. It was good to know they would have a place, but in his heart, as much as he loved Dalanar and the Lanzadonii, the Zelandonii were his people. If possible, that was where he wanted to live with Ayla.

When they finally left, Ayla felt as though a burden had lifted. In spite of the rains, she was happy to feel the weather warming, and on sunny days it was too beautiful to be sad for long. She was a woman in love traveling with her man, and going to meet his people, going to her new home. She could not help feeling ambivalent about it, though, full of hope and worry.

It was country Jondalar knew, and he greeted every familiar landmark with excitement, and often a comment or story about it. They rode through a pass between two mountain ridges, then picked up a river that twisted and turned in the right general direction. They left it at its source, and crossed several large rivers flowing from north to south across a low valley, then climbed a large massif overtopped with volcanoes, one still smoking, others quiescent. Crossing over a plateau, near the source of a river, they passed by some hot springs.

“I’m sure this is the beginning of the river that flows right in front of the Ninth Cave,” Jondalar said, full of enthusiasm. “We’re almost there, Ayla! We can be home by nightfall.”

“Are these the hot healing waters you told me about?” Ayla asked.

“Yes. We call them Doni’s Healing Waters,” he said.

“Let’s stay here tonight,” she said.

“But we’re almost there,” Jondalar said, “almost at the end of our Journey, and I’ve been away for so long.”

“That’s why I want to spend the night here. It’s the end of our Journey. I want to bathe in the hot water, and I want to spend one last night alone with just you, before we meet all your kin.”

Jondalar looked at her and smiled. “You’re right. After all this time, what’s one more night? And it is the last time we’ll be alone together for a long time. Besides”—his smile warmed—” I like being with you around hot springs.”

They put up their tent at a site that had obviously been used before. Ayla thought the horses seemed agitated when they were let free to graze on the fresh grass of the plateau, but she had seen some young coltsfoot and sorrel leaves. When she went to pick them, she saw some spring mushrooms and then crab apple blossoms and elder shoots. She returned to their campsite holding the front of her tunic out like a basket, full of fresh greens and other delicacies.

“I think you are planning a feast,” Jondalar said.

“It’s not a bad idea. I saw a nest that I want to go back and check for eggs,” Ayla said.

“Then what do you think of this?” he said, holding up a trout. Ayla smiled with delight. “I thought I saw it in the stream, sharpened a green stick into a gorge, and dug up a worm to thread around it. This fish bit so fast, it was almost like it was waiting for me.”

“Definitely the makings for a feast!”

“But it can wait, can’t it?” Jondalar said. “I think I’d rather see a hot bath right now.” His blue eyes filled with his thoughts of her and aroused her response.

“A wonderful idea,” she said, emptying her tunic beside the firepit, then walking into his arms.

   They sat side by side, a little back from the fire, feeling replete, satisfied, and entirely relaxed, watching sparks dance an arabesque and disappear into the night. Wolf was dozing nearby. Suddenly he raised his head and cocked his ears toward the dark plateau. They heard a loud, full-throated neigh, but it was not familiar. Then the mare squealed, and Racer whinnied.

“There’s a strange horse in the field,” Ayla said, jumping up. It was a moonless night and hard to see.

“You’ll never find your way out there tonight. Let me try to find something to make a torch.”

Whinney squealed again, the strange horse neighed, and they heard hoofbeats racing off into the night.

“That does it,” Jondalar said. “It’s too late tonight. I think she’s gone. A horse has captured her again.”

“This time, I think she left because she wanted to. I thought she seemed nervous; I should have paid closer attention,” Ayla said. “It’s her season, Jondalar. I’m sure that was a stallion, and I think Racer went with them. He’s too young, yet, but I’m sure other mares are in season, too, and he would be drawn to them.”

“It’s too dark to look for them now, but I do know this region. We can track them in the morning.”

“The last time, I took her out, and the brown stallion came for her. She came back to me on her own, and later, she had Racer. I think she’s out starting a baby again,” Ayla said, sitting down by the fire. She looked at Jondalar and grinned. “It seems right, both of us pregnant at the same time.”

It took a moment for her statement to register. “Both of you … pregnant … at the same time? Ayla! Are you saying you are pregnant? Are you going to have a baby?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding. “I am going to have your baby, Jondalar.”

“My baby? You’re going to have my baby? Ayla! Ayla.” He picked her up, spun her around, and then kissed her. “Are you sure? I mean, are you sure you are going to have a baby? The spirit could have come from one of the men at Dalanar’s Cave, or even the Losadunai.… That’s all right, if that’s what the Mother wants.”

“I passed my moon time without bleeding, and I feel pregnant. I’ve even been getting a little sick in the morning. Not bad, though. I think we started it when we got down off the glacier,” Ayla said. “And it is your baby, Jondalar, I’m sure of it. It can’t be anyone else’s. Started with your essence. The essence of your manhood.”

“My baby?” he said, a look of soft wonder in his eyes. He put his hand on her stomach. “You have my baby in there? I’ve wanted that so much,” he said, looking away and blinking his eyes. “Do you know, I even asked the Mother for it.”

“Didn’t you tell me the Mother always gives you what you ask for, Jondalar?” She smiled with his happiness, and her own. “Tell me, did you ask for a boy or a girl?”

“Just a baby, Ayla. It doesn’t matter which.”

“Then you won’t mind if I hope for a girl this time?”

He shook his head. “Just your baby, and maybe, mine.”

   “The trouble with tracking horses on foot is that they can travel so much faster than we can,” Ayla said.

“But I think I know where they might be going,” Jondalar said, “and I know a shorter way, up over the top of that ridge.”

“What if they aren’t where you think?”

“Then we’ll have to come back and pick up their trail again, but their tracks are heading in the right direction,” he said. “Don’t worry, Ayla. We’ll find them.”

“We have to, Jondalar. We’ve been through too much. I can’t let her go back to a herd now.”

Jondalar led the way to a sheltered field where he had often seen horses before. They found many horses there. It did not take Ayla long to identify her friend. They clambered down to the edge of the grassy bottomland, although Jondalar watched Ayla closely, a little worried that she might be doing more than she should. She whistled the familiar call.

Whinney lifted her head and galloped toward the woman, followed by a large pale stallion and a young brown one. The pale stallion de-toured to challenge the young one, who quickly backed away. Although he was excited by the presence of females in heat, he was not ready to challenge the experienced herd stallion for his own dam. Jondalar ran toward Racer, spear-thrower in hand, ready to protect him from the powerful dominant animal, but the young stallion’s own actions had protected him. The pale horse veered back toward the receptive mare.

Ayla was standing with her arms around Whinney’s neck when the stallion arrived, reared, and displayed his full potential. Whinney backed away from the woman and answered. Jondalar approached, leading Racer with a sturdy rope attached to his halter, looking worried.

“You can try putting her halter on her,” Jondalar said.

“No. We’ll have to camp here tonight. She’s not ready to come yet. They are making a baby, and Whinney wants one. I want to let her,” Ayla said.

Jondalar shrugged his acquiescence. “Why not? There’s no hurry. We can camp here for a while.” He watched Racer strain toward the herd. “He wants to join the others, too. Do you think it would be safe to let him go?”

“I don’t think they’ll go anyplace. This is a big field, and if they do go away, we can climb up and see where they’re heading. It might be good for him to be with other horses for a while. Maybe he can learn from them,” Ayla said.

“I think you’re right,” he said, slipping off the halter, and watching Racer gallop down the field. “I wonder if Racer will ever be a herd stallion? And share Pleasures with all of the females.” And, maybe, start young horses growing inside them, he thought.

“We might as well find a place to make camp and make ourselves comfortable,” Ayla said. “And think about hunting something to eat. There may be willow grouse in those trees by that stream.”

“Too bad there are no hot springs here,” Jondalar said. “It’s amazing how relaxing a hot bath is.”

“Ayla! Ayla!” Jondalar was shaking her. “Were you having a bad dream?”

“A strange dream, but not a bad dream,” she said. She got up, felt a wave of nausea, and lay back down, hoping it would go away.

   Jondalar flapped the leather ground cloth at the pale stallion, and Wolf yipped and harried him, while Ayla slipped a halter over Whinney’s head. She had only a small pack. Racer, tied securely to a tree, carried most of the burden.

Ayla leaped to the mare’s back and urged her to a gallop, guiding her
along the edge of the long field. The stallion chased them, but he slowed as they gained distance from the rest of the mares. Finally he pulled to a halt, reared, and neighed, calling to Whinney. He reared again and raced back toward the herd. Several stallions had already tried to take advantage of his absence. He closed in and reared again, screaming a challenge.

Ayla on Whinney kept going, but she slowed down from the fast gallop. When she heard hoofbeats behind, she stopped and waited for Jondalar and Racer, with Wolf on their heels.

“If we hurry, we can be there before dark,” Jondalar said.