The Shelters of Stone (14 page)

“There’s that wolf. I don’t like the idea of a wolf coming up here, right onto our ledge,” another woman said.

“Joharran said we should allow him to come and go as he wants, but I’m going to get my spear,” a man said. “Maybe he won’t hurt anyone, but I don’t trust that animal.”

People backed out of the way to give him a wide berth when Wolf reached the ledge at the top of the path and headed directly for Marthona’s dwelling. One man knocked over several spear shafts when he bumped into them in his hurry to put plenty of clearance between himself and the efficient, four-legged hunter. The wolf sensed the fear of the people around him and didn’t like it, but he continued toward the location Ayla had indicated he was to go.

The silence within Marthona’s dwelling was shattered when Willamar, catching sight of the entrance drape moving, suddenly jumped up and shouted. “There’s a wolf! Great Mother, how did that wolf get here?”

“It’s all right, Willamar,” Marthona said, trying to calm him. “He’s allowed in here.” Folara caught her eldest brother’s
eye and smiled, and though Joharran was still nervous around the animal, he could give her a knowing smile back.

“That’s Ayla’s wolf,” Jondalar said, getting up to ward off any hasty reactions as Ayla rushed to the entrance to settle the animal, who had been more scared than Willamar to be greeted by such loud, frantic noise in the place he had been shown to come. Wolf’s tail was between his legs, his hackles were raised, and his teeth were bared.

If Zelandoni could have, she would have jumped up just as fast as Willamar. A loud, menacing growl seemed to be directed specifically at her, and she shook with fear. Even though she had heard about Ayla’s animals and seen them from a distance, she was terrified by the huge predator that had entered the dwelling. She had never been so close to a wolf; in the wild wolves usually ran away from groups of people.

She watched with amazement as Ayla fearlessly hurried toward Wolf, stooped down, put her arms around him, and held him, speaking words, only some of which she understood, seeking to calm the animal. The wolf first became excited, and licked the neck and face of the woman while she fondled him, then did indeed calm down. It was the most unbelievable demonstration of supernatural powers she had ever witnessed. Just what kind of mysterious ability did this woman possess to command that land of control over such an animal? She felt gooseflesh raise at the thought.

Willamar had calmed down as well, with the encouragement of Marthona and Jondalar, and after seeing Ayla with the wolf.

“I think Willamar should meet Wolf, don’t you, Ayla?” Marthona said.

“Especially since they are going to be sharing the same dwelling,” Jondalar said. Willamar gaped at him with an amazed look of disbelief.

Ayla stood up and walked toward them, signaling Wolf to follow closely. “The way Wolf gets acquainted is to become familiar with your scent. If you hold out your hand to let him smell it…,” she started to say, reaching for his hand.

The man pulled it away. “Are you sure about this?” he said, looking at Marthona.

His mate smiled, then held out her hand toward the wolf. He smelled her hand, then licked it. “You gave some of us quite a fright, Wolf, coming in unannounced before you had met everyone,” she said.

Willamar was still a bit hesitant, but he could hardly do less than Marthona had, and put his hand forward. Ayla introduced Wolf in the usual manner, saying for the man’s benefit, as the wolf took in his scent, “Wolf, this is Willamar. He lives here with Marthona.” The wolf licked him, then gave a little yip.

“Why did he do that?” Willamar asked, drawing his hand back quickly.

“I’m not sure, but perhaps he smelled Marthona on you, and he warmed to her very quickly,” Ayla suggested. “Try petting or scratching him.” As though Willamar’s tentative scratching only tickled, Wolf suddenly curled up and vigorously scratched behind his own ear, bringing smiles and chuckles at his rather undignified posture. When he was through, he went straight to Zelandoni.

She eyed him warily, but stood her ground. She had been terrified when the wolf appeared at the entrance of the dwelling. Jondalar was more aware of her reaction than the others. He had seen her petrified fear. They had been concerned about Willamar, who had jumped up and shouted, and hadn’t noticed the quiet terror of the woman. She was just as glad they hadn’t. One Who Served The Mother was thought of as fearless, and in fact, that was generally true. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt such alarm.

“I think he knows he hasn’t met you, Zelandoni,” Jondalar said. “And since he’s going to be living here, I think you should be introduced to each other, too.” From the way he looked at her, she guessed that Jondalar knew how frightened she had been, and acknowledged it with a nod.

“I think you’re right. What is it that I’m supposed to do, give him my hand?” she said, thrusting it toward the wolf. He
sniffed, then licked, then, with no warning, took her hand with his teeth and held it in his mouth with a low growl.

“What’s he doing?” Folara said. She hadn’t officially met him, either. “He only used his teeth with Ayla, before.”

“I’m not sure,” Jondalar said with a note of concern.

Zelandoni looked sternly at Wolf, and he let go.

“Did he hurt you?” Folara asked. “Why did he do that?”

“No, of course he didn’t hurt me. He did it to let me know that I have nothing to fear from him,” Zelandoni said, making no attempt to scratch him. “We understand each other.” Then she contemplated Ayla, who returned her gaze. “And we have a lot to learn about each other.”

“Yes, we do. I’m looking forward to it,” she replied.

“And Wolf still needs to meet Folara,” Jondalar said. “Come here, Wolf, come and meet my little sister.”

Responding to the playfulness in his voice, Wolf bounded toward him. “This is Folara, Wolf,” he said. The young woman quickly discovered how much fun it was to pet and scratch and handle the wolf.

“Now it’s my turn,” Ayla said. “I would like to be introduced to Willamar,” she said, then, turning to the donier, “and Zelandoni, although I already feel that I know you both.”

Marthona stepped forward. “Of course. I had forgotten that you haven’t formally met them. Ayla, this is Willamar, Renowned Traveler and Trade Master of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, Mated to Marthona, Man of the Hearth to Folara, Blessed of Doni.” Then she looked at the man. “Willamar, please welcome Ayla of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth, Chosen by the Spirit of the Cave Lion, Protected by the Cave Bear,” she smiled at the animal, “and Friend of Wolf, and two horses,” she added.

After the incidents and stories that Ayla had just told, Jondalar’s kin understood the meanings of her names and ties more and felt they knew her better. It made her seem less of a stranger. Willamar and Ayla grasped both hands and greeted each other in the name of the Mother with the phrases of the formal introduction, except that Willamar referred to her as
“mother” rather than “friend of Wolf.” Ayla had noticed that people seldom repeated introductions exactly, often adding their own variation.

“I look forward to meeting the horses, and I think I’m going to add ‘Chosen by the Golden Eagle’ to my names. After all, it is my totem,” he said with a warm smile, and squeezed her hands before he let go. She smiled back, a big, dazzling smile. I am happy to see Jondalar after all this time, he thought, and how wonderful for Marthona that he brought a woman back to mate. It means he plans to stay. And such a beautiful woman. If they are of his spirit, imagine what her children will look like.

Jondalar decided that he should be the one to formally introduce Ayla and Zelandoni. “Ayla, this is Zelandoni, First Among Those
Who
Serve The Great Earth Mother, the Voice of Doni, Surrogate of She Who Blesses, the Donier, Giver of Help and Healing, Instrument of the Original Ancestor, Spiritual Leader of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, and Friend of Jondalar once known as Zolena.” He said the last with a smile. It was not one of her usual tides.

“Zelandoni, this is Ayla of the Mamutoi,” he began, and at the end added “soon to be mated to Jondalar, I hope.”

It’s a good thing he said “I hope,” Zelandoni said to herself as she stepped forward with both hands extended. This mating hasn’t been approved yet. “As the Voice of Doni, Great Earth Mother, I welcome you, Ayla of the Mamutoi, Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth,” she said, taking both of Ayla’s hands in hers and naming what to her were the most important titles.

“In the name of Mut, Mother of All, who is also Doni, I greet you, Zelandoni, First Among Those Who Serve The Great Earth Mother,” Ayla said. As the two women faced each other, Jondalar fervently hoped that they would become good friends. He would never want either as an enemy.

“And now I must go. I hadn’t planned to stay so long,” Zelandoni said.

“I have to go, too,” Joharran said, leaning over to brush his mother’s cheek with his, then getting up. “There’s a lot to
do before the feast tonight. And, Willamar, tomorrow I want to hear how the trading went.”

After Zelandoni and Joharran left, Marthona asked Ayla if she wanted to rest before the celebration.

“I feel so dirty and hot from traveling. There is nothing I’d like better right now than to go for a swim, to cool off, and wash. Does soaproot grow nearby?”

“It does,” Marthona said. “Jondalar, behind the big rock upstream along The River a short distance from Wood River Valley. You know where that is, don’t you?”

“Yes, I know. Wood River Valley is where the horses are, Ayla. I’ll show you the place. A swim does sound good.” Jondalar put an arm around Marthona. “And it’s good to be home, mother. I really don’t think I want to travel again for a long time.”

I
want to get my comb and I think I still have some dried ceanothus flowers left, to wash my hair,” Ayla said, opening her traveling packs. “And the chamois skin from Roshario to dry off with,” she added, pulling it out.

Wolf was bounding toward the entry and back to them again, as though urging them to hurry.

“I think Wolf knows we’re going swimming,” Jondalar said. “I sometimes think that animal can understand language, even if he can’t speak it.”

“I’ll take my change of clothes so I have something clean to put on, and why don’t we spread out the sleeping furs before we go,” Ayla said, putting down her towel and other things, and pulling loose the ties of another bundle.

They quickly made a sleeping place and set out the few other possessions they had with them, then Ayla shook out the tunic and short pants she had been keeping aside. She examined the outfit closely. It was made of soft, supple buckskin, cut in a simple Mamutoi style, but was undecorated, and though clean, it was stained. Even with washing, it was difficult to get stains out of the velvety-textured nap of the leather, but it was the only thing she had to wear to the feast. Traveling limited the amount one could take, even with horses to help with transport, and she had wanted to bring
other things that were more important to her than changes of clothing.

Ayla noticed that Marthona was watching her and said, “This is all I have to wear tonight. I hope it will be all right. I couldn’t bring much with me. Roshario gave me a beautiful decorated outfit made in the Sharamudoi style out of that wonderful leather they make, but I gave it to Madenia, that young Losadunai woman who was attacked so brutally.”

“That was kind of you,” the woman said.

“I had to lighten my load anyway, and Madenia seemed so pleased, but now I wish I had one like it. It would be nice to dress for the feast tonight in something a little less worn. Once we get settled, I’ll have to make some clothes.” She smiled at the woman and looked around. “It’s still hard to believe we’re finally here.”

“It’s hard for me to believe, too,” Marthona said, then after a pause, “I would like to help you make some clothes, if you wouldn’t object.”

“No, I wouldn’t object at all. I’d appreciate it.” Ayla smiled. “Everything you have here is so beautiful, Marthona, and I don’t know what is appropriate for Zelandoni women to wear.”

“Can I help, too?” Folara added. “Mother’s ideas about clothes are not always what younger women like.”

“I’d love to have help from both of you, but this will have to do for now,” Ayla said, holding up her worn outfit.

“It will certainly be fine for tonight,” Marthona said. Then she nodded to herself, as though making a decision. “I have something I would like to give you, Ayla. It’s in my sleeping room.”

Ayla followed Marthona into her room. “I have been saving this for you for a long time,” the woman said as she opened a covered wooden box.

“But you just met me!” Ayla exclaimed.

“For the woman Jondalar would someday choose for a mate. It belonged to Dalanar’s mother.” She held out a necklace.

Ayla caught her breath with surprise, and with some
hesitation took the proffered necklace. She examined it cautiously. It was made of matched shells, perfect deer teeth, and finely carved heads of female deer made from ivory. A lustrous yellowish orange pendant hung at the center.