Plains of Passage (58 page)

“This is for you, Ayla,” Roshario said, “for helping me. I wrapped it so it would stay clean on your Journey. You can always use the wrapping for a towel, later.”

Ayla, looking surprised and pleased, untied the cord and unfolded soft chamois skins to reveal more of the yellow leather, beautifully decorated with beads and quills. She lifted it up and caught her breath. It was the most beautiful tunic she had ever seen. Folded under it was a pair of women’s trousers, fully decorated on the front of the legs and around the bottom in a pattern matching the tunic.

“Roshario! This is beautiful. I have never seen anything so beautiful. It’s too beautiful to wear,” Ayla said. Then she put the garments down and hugged the woman. For the first time since she arrived, Roshario noticed Ayla’s strange accent, particularly in the way she said certain words, but she didn’t find it unpleasant.

“I hope it fits. Why don’t you try it on so we can see?” Roshario said.

“Do you really think I should?” Ayla said, almost afraid to touch it.

“You have to know if it will fit, so you can wear it when you and Jondalar are mated, don’t you?”

Ayla smiled at Jondalar, excited and happy about the outfit, but she refrained from mentioning that she already had a mating tunic, given to her by Talut’s mate, Nezzie of the Lion Camp. She couldn’t exactly wear both of them, but she would find a very special occasion for the beautiful new outfit.

“I have something for you, too, Ayla. Not nearly as beautiful, but
useful,” Tholie said, giving her a handful of soft leather straps that she had tucked away in a pouch that dangled from her waist.

Ayla held them up and avoided looking at Jondalar. She knew exactly what they were. “How did you know I needed fresh straps for my moon time, Tholie?”

“A woman can always use some new ones, especially when she’s traveling. I have some nice absorbent padding for you, too. Roshario and I talked about it. She showed me the outfit she had made for you, and I wanted to give you something beautiful, too, but you can’t take much with you when you travel. So I started to think about what you might need,” Tholie said, explaining her very practical gift.

“It’s perfect. You couldn’t have given me something I needed, or wanted, more. You are so thoughtful, Tholie,” Ayla said, then turned her head and blinked her eyes. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Come now, you’re not leaving yet. Not until tomorrow morning. There’s plenty of time for tears then,” Roshario said, though her own eyes threatened to overflow.

That evening, Ayla emptied both her pack baskets and had everything she wanted to take with her spread out, trying to decide how to pack it all, including the quantities of food they had been given. Jondalar would take some of it, but he didn’t have much room, either. They had discussed the bowl boat several times, trying to decide if its usefulness in crossing rivers was worth the effort it would take to move it across the wooded mountain slopes. They finally decided to take it, but not without misgivings.

“How are you going to fit all that in only two baskets?” Jondalar asked, looking at a pile of mysterious bundles and packages, all carefully wrapped, and worried about taking too much. “Are you sure you need it all? What’s in that package?”

“All my summer clothes,” Ayla said. “That’s the one I’ll leave behind if I have to, but I will need clothes to wear next summer. I’m just glad I don’t have to pack winter clothes any more.”

“Hhmmm!” he grunted, not able to fault her reasoning, but still concerned about the load. He scanned the pile and noticed a package that he knew he had seen before. She’d been carrying it since they left, but he still didn’t know what was in it. “What’s that one?”

“Jondalar, you’re not being much help,” Ayla said. “Why don’t you take these squares of traveling food Carolio gave us and see if you can find room in your pack basket for them?”

   “Easy, Racer. Settle down,” Jondalar said, pulling down on the lead rope and holding it in close while he patted the stallion’s cheek and
stroked his neck, trying to calm him. “I think he knows we’re ready and he’s eager to go.”

“I’m sure Ayla will be along soon,” Markeno said. “Those two have become very close in the short time you’ve been here. Tholie was crying last night, wishing you would stay.
To
tell you the truth, I’m sorry to see you go, too. We looked around, and we talked to several people, but we just hadn’t found anyone we wanted to share with, until you came. We do need to make a commitment soon. Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind?”

“You don’t know how hard this decision has been for me, Markeno. Who knows what I’ll find when I get there. My sister will be grown up and probably won’t remember me. I have no idea what my older brother will be doing, or where he’ll be. I just hope my mother is still alive,” Jondalar said, “and Dalanar, the man of my hearth. My close-cousin, the daughter of his second hearth, ought to be a mother by now, but I don’t even know if she has a mate. If she has, I probably won’t know him. I really won’t know anyone any more, and I feel so close to everyone here. But I have to go.”

Markeno nodded. Whinney nickered softly, and they both looked up. Roshario, Ayla, and Tholie, who was holding Shamio, were coming out of his dwelling. The little girl struggled to get down when she saw Wolf.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do about Shamio when that wolf is gone,” Markeno said. “She wants him around all the time. She’d sleep with him if I’d let her.”

“Maybe you can find a wolf cub for her,” Carlono said, joining them. He had just come up from the dock.

“I hadn’t thought of that. It wouldn’t be easy, but maybe I could get one cub from a wolf den,” Markeno mused. “At least I could promise her to try. I’m going to have to tell her something.”

“If you do,” Jondalar said, “I’d make sure it’s a young one. Wolf was still nursing when his mother died.”

“How did Ayla feed him without a mother to give him milk?” Carlono asked.

“I wondered that myself,” Jondalar said. “She said a baby can eat whatever its mother eats, but it has to be softer and easier to chew. She cooked up broth, soaked a piece of soft leather in it, and let him suck it, and she cut meat up into tiny pieces for him. He eats anything we eat now, but he still likes to hunt for himself sometimes. He even flushes game for us, and he helped us get that elk we brought with us when we came.”

“How do you get him to do what you want him to?” Markeno asked.

“Ayla spends a lot of time at it. She shows him and goes over it again and again until he gets it right. It’s surprising how much he can learn, and he’s so eager to please her,” Jondalar said.

“Anyone can see that. Do you think it’s just her? After all, she is shamud,” Carlono said. “Could just anybody make animals do what he wants?”

“I ride on Racer’s back,” Jondalar said, “and I’m not shamud.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Markeno said, then laughed. “Remember, I’ve seen you around women. I think you could make any one of them do whatever you wanted.”

Jondalar flushed. He hadn’t really thought about that for a while.

As Ayla walked toward them, she wondered about his red face, but then Dolando joined them, coming from around the wall.

“I’ll go with you part of the way to show you the trails and the best way over the mountains,” he said.

“Thank you. That will be a help,” Jondalar said.

“I’ll go along, too,” Markeno said.

“I would like to come,” Darvalo said. Ayla looked in his direction and saw that he was wearing the shirt Jondalar had given him.

“So would I,” Rakario said.

Darvalo looked at her with an annoyed frown, expecting to see her staring at Jondalar, but she was looking at him instead, with an adoring smile. Ayla watched his expression change from annoyance, to puzzlement, to understanding, and then to a surprised blush.

Almost everyone had congregated in the middle of the field to say farewell to their visitors, and several others voiced a wish to walk along with them for part of the way.

“I won’t be going,” Roshario said, looking at Jondalar and then Ayla, “but I wish you were staying. I wish you both good Journey.”

“Thank you, Roshario,” he said, giving the woman a hug. “We may need your good wishes before we are through.”

“I need to thank you, Jondalar, for bringing Ayla. I don’t even want to think about what would have happened to me if she hadn’t come.” She reached for Ayla’s hand. The young medicine woman took it, and then the other hand still in the sling, and squeezed both of them, pleased to feel the strength in the grip of both hands in return. Then they hugged.

There were several other goodbyes, but most of the people planned to follow along the trail for at least a short way.

“Are you coming, Tholie?” Markeno asked, falling into step beside Jondalar.

“No.” Her eyes glistened with tears. “I don’t want to go. It won’t be any easier to say goodbye on the trail than it will be right here.” She
went up to the tall Zelandonii man. “It’s hard for me to be nice to you right now, Jondalar. I’ve always been so fond of you, and I liked you even more after you brought Ayla here. I wanted so much for you and her to stay, but you won’t do it. Even though I understand why you won’t, it doesn’t make me feel very good.”

“I’m sorry you feel so bad, Tholie,” Jondalar said. “I wish there was something I could do to make you feel better.”

“There is, but you won’t do it,” she said.

It was so like her to say exactly what she was thinking. It was one of the things he liked about her. You never had to guess what she really meant. “Don’t be angry at me. If I could stay, nothing would please me more than to join with you and Markeno. You don’t know how proud you made me feel when you asked us, or how hard it is for me to leave right now, but something pulls me.
To
be honest, I’m not even sure what it is, but I have to go, Tholie.” He looked at her with his startling blue eyes fall of genuine sorrow, concern, and caring.

“Jondalar, you shouldn’t say such nice things and look at me like that. It makes me want you to stay even more. Just give me a hug,” Tholie said.

He bent down and put his arms around the young woman, and he felt her shaking with her effort to control her tears. She pulled away and looked at the tall blond woman beside him.

“Oh, Ayla. I don’t want you to go,” she said with a huge sob as they fell into each other’s arms.

“I don’t want to leave, I wish we could stay. I’m not sure why, but Jondalar has to go, and I have to go with him,” Ayla said, crying as hard as Tholie. Suddenly the young mother broke away, picked up Shamio, and ran back toward the shelters.

Wolf started to go after them. “Stay here, Wolf!” Ayla commanded.

“Wuffie! I want my Wuffie,” the little girl cried out, reaching toward the shaggy, four-legged carnivore.

Wolf whined and looked up at Ayla. “Stay, Wolf,” she said. “We are leaving.”

A
yla and Jondalar stood in a clearing that commanded a broad view of the mountain, feeling a sense of loss and loneliness as they watched Dolando, Markeno, Carlono, and Darvalo walking back down the trail. The rest of the large crowd that had started out with them had dropped back by twos and threes along the way. When the last four men reached a turn in the trail, they turned and waved.

Ayla returned their wave in a “come back” motion with the back of her hand toward them, suddenly overcome by the knowledge that she would never see the Sharamudoi again. In the short time she had known them, she had come to love them. They had welcomed her, asked her to stay, and she could have lived with them gladly.

This leaving reminded her of their departure from the Mamutoi early in the summer. They, too, had welcomed her, and she had loved many of them. She could have been happy living with them, except that she would have had to live with the unhappiness she had caused Ranec, and when she left, there had been the excitement of going home with the man she loved. There were no undercurrents of unhappiness among the Sharamudoi, which made the parting all the more difficult, and though she loved Jondalar and had no doubt that she wanted to go with him, she had found acceptance and friendships that were hard to end with such finality.

Journeys are full of goodbyes, Ayla thought. She had even made her last farewell to the son she had left with the Clan … though if she had stayed there, someday she might have been able to go with the Ramudoi in a boat back down the Great Mother River to the delta. Then, perhaps, she could have made a trek around to the peninsula, to look for the new cave of her son’s clan … but there was no point in thinking about it any more.

There would be no more opportunities to return, no more last chances to hope for. Her life took her in one direction, her son’s life led him in another. Iza had told her “find your own people, find your own mate.” She had found acceptance among her own kind of people and she had found a man to love who loved her. But for all she had
gained, there were losses. Her son was one of them; she had to accept that fact.

Jondalar felt desolate as well, watching the last four turning back toward their home. They were all friends he had lived with for several years and had known well. Though their relationship was not through his mother and her ties, he felt they were as much kin as his own blood. In his commitment to return to his original roots, they were family he would never see again, and that saddened him.

When the last of the Sharamudoi that had seen them off moved out of sight, Wolf sat on his haunches, lifted his head, and gave voice to a few yips that led to a full, throaty howl, shattering the tranquillity of the sunny morning. The four men appeared again on the trail below and waved one last time, acknowledging the wolf’s farewell. Suddenly there was an answering howl from one of his own kind. Markeno looked to see which direction the second howl came from before they started back down the trail. Then Ayla and Jondalar turned and faced the mountain with its glistening peaks of blue-green glacial ice.

Though not as high as the range to the west, the mountains in which they were traveling had been formed at the same time, in the most recent of the mountain-building epochs—recent only in relation to the ponderously slow movements of the thick stony crust floating on the molten core of the ancient earth. Uplifted and folded into a series of parallel ridges during the orogeny that had brought the whole continent into sharp relief, the rugged terrain of this farthest east expansion of the extensive mountain system was clothed with verdant life.