The Land of Painted Caves (50 page)

She looked at Jondalar. “Something must be wrong,” she said.

21

J
ondalar and Ayla both ran back to the Cave, following Wolf. As they drew near, they could see a number of people in front of the shelter in the field where the horses grazed. When they got closer, they saw a scene that might have been funny if it hadn’t been so frightening. Jonayla was standing in front of Gray with her arms outstretched as though to protect the young mare, facing down six or seven men armed with spears. Whinney and Racer were ranged behind them, watching the men.

“What do you think you are doing?” Ayla shouted, reaching for her sling since she didn’t have her spear-thrower with her.

“What do you think we’re doing? We’re hunting horses,” one of the men replied. He heard her odd accent and added, “Who wants to know?”

“I am Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii,” Ayla said. “And you are not hunting those horses. Can’t you see those are special horses?”

“What makes them so special? They look like ordinary horses to me.”

“Open your eyes and look,” Jondalar said. “How often do you see horses stand still for a child? Why do you think those horses are not running away from you?”

“Maybe because they’re too stupid to know any better.”

“I think maybe you are too stupid to understand what you are seeing,” Jondalar said, getting angry at the insolent mouth of the young man who seemed to be speaking for the group.

He whistled a piercing series of tones. The hunters watched the stallion turn toward the tall blond man, then trot up to him. Jondalar stood in front of Racer and made a point of arming his spear-thrower, though he didn’t quite aim it at the men.

Ayla walked between her daughter and the men and signaled Wolf to her, then added a signal that meant “Guard the horses.” The wolf bared his teeth and snarled at the men, which made them crowd closer together and back up a few paces. Ayla picked up Jonayla and put her on Gray’s back. Then she grabbed Whinney’s stand-up mane, leaped up and threw her leg over, and landed on her back. Every action caused the hunters to react with increasing surprise.

“How did you do that?” the young speaker said.

“I told you these were special horses, and not to be hunted,” Ayla said.

“Are you a Zelandoni?”

“She’s an acolyte, a Zelandoni in training,” Jondalar said. “She’s First Acolyte of the Zelandoni Who Is First Among Those Who Serve The Mother, who will be here shortly.”

“The One Who Is First is here?”

“Yes, she is here,” Jondalar said, looking more closely at the men. They were all young, probably recently initiated into manhood and sharing a fa’lodge at a Summer Meeting—likely the one at the site of the next Sacred Cave they were planning to visit. “Aren’t you rather far from your Summer Meeting fa’lodge?” he asked.

“How do you know that?” the young man said. “You don’t know us.”

“But it’s not hard to guess. This is the time of Summer Meetings, you are all about the age when young men decide to leave their mother’s camp and stay in a fa’lodge, and to show how independent you are, you decided to go hunting and maybe even bring some meat back. But your luck hasn’t been too good, has it? And now you are hungry.”

“How do you know? Are you a Zelandoni, too?” the young man said.

“Just a guess,” Jondalar said; then he noticed the First arriving and all the others following behind. The One Who Was First could walk rather fast when she had a mind to, and she knew that if the wolf had come looking for them, there must have been some kind of trouble.

The First took in the scene quickly: young men with spears, too young to be very experienced; the wolf in a defensive stance in front of the horses with both the young girl and the woman on their bare backs without any of the usual accoutrements for riding, and a sling in Ayla’s hand, Jondalar with an armed spear-thrower standing in front of the stallion. Had Jonayla sent the wolf for her mother while she was trying to protect the horses from more than a handful of would-be hunters?

“Is there a problem here?” the Donier said. The young men knew who she was though none of them had ever seen her before. They had all heard descriptions of the First, and understood the meaning of the tattoos on her face, and the necklaces and clothing she wore.

“Not anymore, but these men were thinking of hunting our horses, until Jonayla stopped them,” Jondalar said, restraining the urge to smile.

She is a plucky child, the Donier thought, when her initial evaluation of the situation was confirmed. “Are you from the Seventh Cave of the South Land Zelandonii?” she asked the young men. The Seventh Cave, where they were heading next, was the most important Cave in this region.

She had a good idea of their Cave from the designs on the clothing they wore. She knew all the differentiating patterns and designs of clothing and jewelry in her immediate area, but the farther away they traveled, the less she would be able to identify people, although she might be able to make some educated guesses.

“Yes, Zelandoni Who Is First,” the young man who had spoken before replied, in a much more deferential tone. It was always smart to be careful around Zelandonia, but especially the One Who Was First.

The young Zelandoni of the local Cave arrived, and most of the others who had visited the Sacred Site. They were standing around watching to see what the powerful woman would do to the young men who had threatened the special horses.

The First turned to the hunters of the local Cave. “It appears that there are now seven more hungry mouths to feed. That will cut down on supplies in a hurry. I think we’ll have to stay a little longer, until a hunting expedition can be organized. You will have help, fortunately. We have several experienced hunters in our group, and with some proper direction, even those young men should be able to make a contribution. I’m sure they will be disposed to help in any way they can, under the circumstances,” she said, then gave the young man who seemed to speak for the group a hard stare.

“Yes, of course,” he said. “Hunting is what we were doing.”

“But not very well,” someone in the crowd who was watching said, under his breath, but loud enough so that everyone heard. Some of the young men blushed and looked away.

“Has anyone spotted any herds recently?” Jondalar asked, directing his question to the two hunters of the Cave. “I think we’ll need to hunt more than one animal.”

“No, but it’s the right season for red deer to be migrating through, especially the does and young. Someone could go out and look, but it usually takes a few days,” one of the Cave hunters said.

“What direction would they be coming from?” Jondalar asked. “I can go and look this afternoon, on Racer. He can travel faster than anyone on foot. If I find anything, Ayla and I can go back and perhaps chase them this way. Wolf can help, too.”

“You can do that?” the young man blurted out.

“We told you they were special horses,” Jondalar said.

   The deer meat had been spread out on cordage that was stretched across a slow, smoky fire overnight. As Ayla was packing it into her parfleche meat container, she wished it had had more time to dry, but they’d already stayed two days longer than the First had planned. Ayla thought she could continue drying it over fires along the way, or even after they arrived at the Seventh Cave of the South Land Zelandonii, since they would be staying for a while.

The Donier Tour group had grown again; the seven young men would be with them. They had proved quite helpful on the hunt, if a little too eager. They did know how to throw spears; they just didn’t know how to cooperate to drive animals toward one another or into some kind of a cul-de-sac so they could be effectively hunted. The young men were quite impressed with the spear-throwers used by the travelers from north of Big River, including the First’s acolyte, as were the two local hunters, who had heard of the weapon but had not seen one in action. With Jondalar’s help, most had already made spear-throwers of their own and were practicing with them.

Ayla had also persuaded Dulana to come with them and enjoy at least part of her Summer Meeting. She was lonely for her mate and children and wanted to see them, though she was still nervous about the scars on her hands and face. She shared a sleeping place with Amelana. They had become friendly, especially since Dulana was willing to chat about pregnancy and giving birth from the point of view of her own experience. Amelana never felt comfortable just chatting with the First or her acolyte, even though Ayla had a child with her. The young woman had heard them discussing medicines and healing practices, and other knowledge and lore of the zelandonia, most of which she didn’t understand, and felt intimidated by the accomplished women.

She did, however, like the attention she was getting from all the young men, both the young hunters and Willamar’s apprentices, though the traders did back off when she was surrounded by all of the rather bumptious youths. They didn’t need to vie for her attention. They knew the youngsters would be with them only a few days, and they had the rest of the trip. While Jondalar with the help of Jonokol and Willamar was hitching the First’s special riding travois to Whinney, Ayla and the Donier were watching the byplay of Amelana and the young men.

“They remind me of a litter of wolf cubs,” Ayla said.

“When did you see wolf cubs?” Zelandoni said.

“When I was young and still living with the Clan,” Ayla said. “Before I started hunting meat-eaters, I used to watch them, sometimes for a long time, all morning, or all day, if I could stay away that long. I watched all kinds of four-legged hunters, not just wolves. That was how I learned to track very silently. Watching the young of any animal was always fascinating, but I particularly liked wolf cubs. They liked to play, just like those boys—I suppose I should call them young men, but they still act like boys. Look how they wrestle and punch and bump each other out of the way, all trying to get Amelana’s attention.”

“I notice Tivonan and Palidar are not with them,” the Donier said. “I think they know they’ll have plenty of time to pay attention to her after we reach the next Sacred Site and the youngsters go away, and when we start traveling again.”

“You think those young men will go off someplace when we get to the next Cave? She’s a very attractive young woman,” Ayla said.

“She’s also their only audience right now. They will be the center of attention of admiring friends and relatives when they arrive at their Camp with us, and bringing deer meat to share. Everyone will be asking them questions and be eager to hear the stories they have to tell. They won’t have time for Amelana.”

“Won’t that make her sad or upset?” Ayla said.

“She’ll have new admirers by then, and they won’t all be boys. An attractive young, pregnant widow will not lack for attention, and neither will those young traders. I’m glad neither one of them seems overly infatuated with Amelana,” the older woman said. “She’s not the kind of woman who would make a good mate for either one of them. A woman mated to a traveler has to have strong interests of her own and not depend on her man to keep her occupied.”

Ayla thought that she was glad Jondalar was not a trader, or involved in some other craft that would require him to travel long distances. It wasn’t that she didn’t have interests of her own or that she needed him to keep her occupied; it was that she would worry if he were gone for a long time. He occasionally took his apprentices to search out new sources of flint, and often examined likely sources when he was out with hunting parties, but traveling alone could be dangerous, and if he got hurt, or worse, how would she know? She would have to wait and wait, wondering if he would ever return. Traveling with a group or even two is better. Then one at least can come back and tell you.

It occurred to her that perhaps Willamar wouldn’t choose just one of his apprentices to be the next Master Trader. He might choose both, and suggest that they travel together for company and to help each other. Of course, a trader’s mate could travel with him, too, but once children came along she might not want to travel away from other women much anymore. It would have been much more difficult, when we were on our Journey, if I’d had a baby along the way. Most women would want the help and companionship of their mothers and other relatives and friends … just like Amelana does. I don’t blame her for wanting to go home.

   Once they were under way, the travelers settled into a routine quickly, and since they’d had such a good hunt before they left, they didn’t have to allow time for hunting along the way, and traveled a little faster than usual. They did spend extra time collecting food that grew, however. Since the season had progressed, they had a greater selection and abundance of vegetables—roots, stems, leafy greens—and fruits to gather.

About midmorning on the day they left, as the temperature began to warm, Ayla began to notice a delicious aroma. Strawberries! We must be walking through a field of wild strawberries, she thought. She wasn’t the only one who became aware of the favorite fruit, and everyone was glad to stop to make tea and to pick several small baskets of the tiny bright red berries. Jonayla didn’t bother with a basket—she picked them right into her mouth. Ayla smiled at her, then looked at Jondalar, who was picking strawberries alongside her.