The Land of Painted Caves (19 page)

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Authors: Jean M. Auel

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Historical, #Sagas, #Women, #Europe, #Prehistoric Peoples, #Glacial Epoch, #General Fiction, #Ayla (Fictitious character)

BOOK: The Land of Painted Caves
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While her reply didn’t really answer his question, it satisfied the men. They assumed that she just didn’t want to announce an experiment that might not work. No one liked to advertise their failures. Ayla was actually fairly certain it would work; she just didn’t know if the First would be willing to use it.

Jondalar started walking slowly back toward their camp, knowing that if he moved, the others would. Ayla went into the horse enclosure to settle the horses after all the excitement of so many people around, nodding to the men to acknowledge their leaving. She patted and stroked Gray, thinking what a beautiful young filly she was. Then she talked to Racer and scratched his favorite itchy parts. Horses were very social animals, and liked being around their kind and others for whom they had affection. He was of an age that if he were living with wild horses, he’d be leaving his dam to run with a bachelor herd. But since Gray and Whinney were his only equine companions, he had grown quite close to Gray and had become somewhat protective of his young sister.

Ayla went out of the enclosure and approached Whinney, who was standing patiently with the pole-drag behind her. As the woman hugged her neck, the mare put her head over Ayla’s shoulder, a familiar position of closeness between the two. Jondalar had put a halter on the mare, since it was easier for him to direct her with it. Ayla thought it might be better to use it while the First was trying out her new means of transportation. Taking the lead attached to the halter, she headed toward their sleeping lodge. By the time she reached it, the men were walking back to the Main Camp and Jondalar was inside the lodge talking to Zelandoni and holding Jonayla, who was quite content.

“Shall we try it out?” Jondalar said.

“Is everyone gone?” the large woman asked.

“Yes, the men are gone and no one else is in camp,” Ayla said.

“Then I suppose this is as good a time as any,” the First said.

They walked out of the lodge, each of them glancing around to make sure no one else was there, then approached Whinney. They went around the back of the horse.

Suddenly Ayla said, “Wait a moment,” and went into the summer dwelling. She came back out holding a padded cushion and placed it on the seat, which was made of several small logs lashed firmly together with strong cordage. A narrow back, perpendicular to the seat and made the same way, kept the cushion in place. Jondalar handed Ayla the infant, then turned to help Zelandoni.

But when the Donier stepped onto the crosspiece of wooden logs made into a step that was close to the ground, the springy long poles gave a little, and Whinney took a step forward because of the shift in weight. The First quickly backed off.

“The horse moved!” she said.

“I’ll go hold her steady,” Ayla said.

She went around to the front of the mare to calm her, holding the lead rope with one hand and the infant with the other. The horse sniffed at the baby’s tummy, which made her giggle and her mother smile. Whinney and Jonayla were familiar with and completely comfortable around each other. The child had frequently ridden on the horse, in her mother’s arms or slung in her carrying blanket on the woman’s back. She had also ridden on Racer with Jondalar, and had been placed lightly on Gray’s back, while the man kept a secure hold on her, just so the two of them could get used to each other.

“Try it again,” Ayla called out.

Jondalar held out his hand for support, smiling at the large woman encouragingly. Zelandoni wasn’t used to being encouraged or urged to do anything. She was the one who usually took on that duty and she gave Jondalar a hard look to see if he was patronizing her. In truth, her heart was pounding though she did not want to admit to her fear. She wasn’t sure why she had agreed to do this thing.

Again the fresh trees that were used as poles yielded as the First put her weight on the thinner logs that had been lashed together to form the step, but Ayla steadied the mare, and Jondalar’s shoulder offered support to her. She reached for the seat, again logs tied close together with rawhide cordage, turned herself around, and sat on the cushion with a sigh of relief.

“Are you ready?” Ayla called back.

“Are you?” Jondalar asked the Donier quietly.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

“Go ahead,” Jondalar said, raising his voice a bit.

“Take it slow, Whinney,” Ayla said, going forward while holding the lead.

The horse started walking, pulling the sturdy pole-drag and the First Among Those Who Served The Great Earth Mother behind her. The woman grabbed the front edge of the seat as she felt herself being moved, but once Whinney got started, it wasn’t bad, though she didn’t let go of the seat. Ayla looked back to see how things were going, and noticed Wolf, sitting on his haunches, watching them. Where have you been? You’ve been gone all day, she thought.

The ride wasn’t smooth; there were a few bumps and dips along the way, and one place where one leg dropped into a ditch caused by a creek runoff, making the rider sway to the left, but the conveyance was soon righted when Ayla turned Whinney slightly. They headed toward the horse enclosure.

It was a strange sensation to move without using her own feet, Zelandoni thought. Of course, children who were carried by their parents were used to it, she realized, but she hadn’t been small enough to be carried by anyone for many years, and riding on this pole-drag moving seat wasn’t the same. For one thing, she was facing backward, looking at where she had been, not where she was going.

Before they reached the horse enclosure, Ayla started a wide turn that led them back to the Ninth Cave’s camp. She saw a track that led in a direction different from the one they usually took to the main camp. She had noticed it before and wondered where it led, but never seemed to have time to follow it. This seemed like a good time. She started toward it, then looked back and caught Jondalar’s eye. She indicated the unknown trail with a slight gesture and he nodded imperceptibly, hoping that their passenger wouldn’t notice and object. Either she didn’t notice or didn’t object as Ayla continued. Wolf had been trotting beside Jondalar bringing up the rear, but loped to the front when Ayla changed direction.

She had draped the lead rope across Whinney’s neck; the horse would follow the woman’s signals more easily than a lead rope attached to a halter. Then she put Jonayla in her carrying blanket on her back where the child could look around but wasn’t a constant weight on her mother’s arm. The trail led to the waterway known to the Ninth Cave as West River, and followed it for a short distance. Just as Ayla was wondering if she should turn back, she saw several familiar people ahead. She stopped the horse and walked back to Jondalar and Zelandoni.

“I think we’ve reached Sun View, Zelandoni,” she said. “Do you want to go ahead and visit, and if so, do you want stay on the pole-drag?”

“Since we’re here, we might as well visit. I might not get here again for some time. And I’m ready to get off. It’s not bad sitting on the moving seat, but it can be a bit bumpy sometimes.” The woman stood up, and using Jondalar for a bit of balance and support, stepped down.

“Do you think you would find it convenient to use when we go to visit the sacred sites you want Ayla to see?” Jondalar asked.

“I think it could be useful, at least for part of the Journey.”

Ayla smiled.

“Jondalar, Ayla, Zelandoni!” a familiar voice called out. Ayla noticed a smile on Jondalar’s face as she was turning around. Willamar was walking toward them along with Stevadal, the leader of the Twenty-sixth Cave.

“How nice that you decided to come,” Stevadal said. “I didn’t know if the First would be able to visit Sun View.”

“Summer Meetings are always full for the zelandonia, but I do try to make at least one courtesy visit to the Cave that hosts the Meeting, Stevadal. We do appreciate the effort,” she said.

“It is an honor,” the leader of the Twenty-sixth said.

“And our pleasure,” said a woman who had just arrived and was standing beside Stevadal.

Ayla was sure the woman was Stevadal’s mate, though she hadn’t met her, and didn’t remember seeing her at the Meeting Camp. It made her look closer. She was younger than Stevadal, but there was something else. Her tunic hung on her thin frame, and she seemed wan and frail. Ayla wondered if she had been ill, or had suffered some grievous loss.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Stevadal said. “Danella was hoping to see the First, and to meet Jondalar’s mate. She hasn’t been able to go to the Meeting Camp, yet.”

“You didn’t tell me she was ill, or I would have come sooner, Stevadal,” the First said.

“Our Zelandoni has been here for her,” Stevadal said. “I didn’t want to bother you. I know how busy you are at Summer Meetings.”

“Not too busy to see your mate.”

“Perhaps later, after everyone else has seen you,” Danella said to the First, then turned to the tall blond man, “but I would like to meet your mate, Jondalar. I’ve heard so much about her.”

“Then you shall,” he said, beckoning to Ayla. She approached the woman with both hands out, palms up, in the traditional greeting of openness, showing she had nothing to hide. Then Jondalar began.

“Danella, of the Twenty-sixth Cave of the Zelandonii, mate of the leader, Stevadal, may I present to you Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii …” He continued with her usual introduction until he got to “Protected by the spirit of the Cave Bear.”

“You forgot ‘Friend of horses and the four-legged hunter she calls Wolf,’ ” Willamar added, chuckling.

He had joined them along with the rest of the men who had come to help make the new pole-drag. Since they were in the area, Willamar suggested that they stop by to visit Sun View, the home of the Twenty-sixth Cave of the Zelandonii, who were hosting the Summer Meeting, and they had been invited to stay for a cup of tea.

Most of the people who lived there were at the Summer Meeting Camp, but a few were still at home, among them the leader’s mate, who apparently was, or had been, ill, Ayla concluded, and wondered how long she had been sick, and what her problem was. She glanced at Zelandoni, who was looking at her. Their eyes met and while nothing was said, she felt that the First was thinking the same thing.

“My names and ties are not nearly so interesting, but in the name of Doni, the Great Earth Mother, you are welcome here, Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii,” Danella said.

“And I greet you, Danella of the Twenty-sixth Cave of the Zelandonii,” Ayla said as they took each other’s hands.

“The sound of your speech is as interesting as your names and ties,” Danella said. “It makes one think of faraway places. You must have some exciting stories to tell. I would like to hear some of them, Ayla.”

Ayla couldn’t help but smile. She was more than aware that her speech was different from that of other Zelandonii. Most people tried to hide it when they noticed her accent, but Danella had such a charming and forthright manner that Ayla was immediately drawn to her. She reminded Ayla of the Mamutoi.

Ayla wondered again what illness or difficulty had caused Danella’s physical frailty, which contrasted so sharply with her warm and winning personality. She glanced at Zelandoni and understood that the First also wanted to know, and would find out before they left the camp. Jonayla was squirming, and Ayla thought she probably wanted to see what was going on, and whom her mother was talking to. She shifted the carrying blanket around so her baby could ride on her hip.

“This must be your ‘Blessed of Doni’ infant, Jonayla,” Danella said.

“Yes.”

“That’s a beautiful name. After Jondalar and you?”

Ayla nodded.

“She is as beautiful as her name,” Danella said.

Although it wasn’t obvious, Ayla knew how to read the nuances of body language and detected a hint of sadness in the fleeting frown and slight wrinkling of her brow. And suddenly the reason for both Danella’s weakness and sadness came to her. She has miscarrried quite late, or had a stillborn baby, Ayla thought, and probably had a difficult pregnancy, and very hard birth, and now had nothing to show for it. She is recovering from the strain on her body and grieving for her lost child. She looked toward the First, who was surreptitiously studying the young woman. Ayla thought she had likely guessed the same thing.

She felt Wolf push against her leg and looked down. He was looking up at her, making a slight whine, which let her know that he wanted something. He looked at Danella, then back at her, and whined again. Did he sense something about the leader’s mate?

Wolves were always sensitive to weakness in others. When living in a hunting pack, it was the weak ones they generally attacked. But Wolf had formed a particularly close bond with the weak half-Clan child whom Nezzie had adopted when the wolf was very young and imprinting on his Mamutoi pack. Wolves of a pack adore their puppies, but humans were Wolf’s pack. She knew he was drawn to human babies and children, and those that his wolf-sense told him were weak, not to hunt them, but to bond with as wild wolves did with their puppies.

Ayla noticed that Danella seemed a little apprehensive. “I think Wolf wants to meet you, Danella. Have you ever touched a living wolf?” she asked.

“No, of course not. I have never been this close to one before. Why do you think he wants to meet me?”

“He is drawn to certain people sometimes. He loves babies—Jonayla crawls all over him and even if she pulls his hair or pokes at his eyes or ears, he never seems to mind. When we first arrived at the Ninth Cave, he acted like this when he saw Jondalar’s mother. He just wanted to meet Marthona.” Ayla suddenly wondered if Wolf had sensed that the woman, who had once been the leader of the largest Cave of the Zelandonii, had a weak heart. “Would you like to meet him?”

“What do I have to do?” Danella said.

The visitors to Sun View were standing around watching. The ones who were familiar with Wolf and his ways were smiling, others were interested, but Stevadal, Danella’s mate, was concerned.

“I’m not sure about this,” he said.

“He won’t hurt her,” Jondalar said.

Ayla handed Jonayla to Jondalar, then led Wolf to Danella. She took the woman’s hand and went through the process of Wolf’s introduction.

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