The Shelters of Stone (87 page)

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Authors: Jean M. Auel

Tags: #Historical fiction

BOOK: The Shelters of Stone
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Ayla left them with the horses. When she reached the cairn, she glanced back, making it very inconspicuous. Folara and Lanidar were letting the large herbivores eat out of their hands, while Mardena stayed back, acting nervous and looking concerned, and Denoda watched. Ayla walked back and casually tied the riding blanket on Whinney’s back. Then she led the mare to a stone.

“Get up on the stone, Folara, then put your leg over her back and try to find a comfortable seat. You can hang on to her mane. I’ll hold Whinney so she won’t move,” Ayla said.

Folara felt a little clumsy, especially when she recalled how smoothly Ayla mounted the horse, but she managed to get on, then sat there, grinning. “I’m sitting on a horse’s back!” she said, feeling rather proud of herself.

Ayla noticed that Lanidar was watching her with a yearning look. Later, Ayla thought. Let’s not press your mother too hard, yet. “Are you ready?” she said.

“Yes, I think so,” Folara said.

“Just relax, you can hold her mane for support if you want, but you don’t have to,” Ayla said, then started off at a
walk, leading the horse by the halter, though she knew Whinney would follow her without it.

At first Folara held the mane and sat up stiffly, bouncing with each step the horse made, but after a while she settled down, began to anticipate the gait and relax into it. Then she let go of the mane.

“Do you want to try it alone? I’ll give you the lead rope.”

“Do you think I can?”

“You can try it, and if you want to get off, just tell me. When you want Whinney to go faster, lean forward,” Ayla explained, “hug her neck if you want. When you want her to slow down, start to sit up.”

“All right. I think I will try,” Folara said.

Mardena looked absolutely petrified when Ayla put the lead rope in Folara’s hand. “Go ahead, Whinney,” she said, signaling her to go slow.

The horse started walking across the meadow. She had given rides to several people and knew to go easy, especially the first time. When Folara leaned forward a little, Whinney increased her pace, but not by much. She leaned down a little farther, and Whinney shifted into a trot. She was an amazingly smooth-riding horse, but the trot jogged Folara a little more than she expected. She quickly sat back up, and Whinney slowed down. After they had gone out a ways, Ayla whistled to call her back. Folara got braver and leaned forward again, and this time she stayed with the trot until they returned and stopped. Ayla led the mare to the rock and held her until Folara got down.

“That was wonderful!” Folara said, her face flushed with excitement. Lanidar was smiling at her just because she looked so pleased.

“See, mother,” the boy said. “You can ride on the back of these horses.”

“Ayla, why don’t you give Mardena and Denoda a demonstration of what they can really do,” Folara said.

Ayla nodded, then quickly and smoothly leaped on the horse, guided her out toward the middle of the meadow at a fast trot, with Racer and Wolf at her heels. She signaled a gallop,
and the horse raced at top speed across the field. She made a large circle, then headed back, slowing the horse as they got close, pulled to a stop, threw her leg over the horse, and jumped down. Both women and the boy were wide-eyed.

“Well, now I know why someone would want to ride on the back of a horse,” Denoda said. “If I were younger, I’d like to try it.”

“How do you have so much control over this animal?” Mardena said. “Is it some kind of magic?”

“No, not at all, Mardena. Anyone could do it, with practice.”

“What made you decide to ride on a horse? How did you start?” Denoda asked.

“I killed Whinney’s dam, for food, and only later discovered she was nursing a young filly,” Ayla began. “When hyenas came after the foal, I couldn’t stand to let them take her—I hate those filthy animals—so I chased them away, and then realized I would have to take care of her.” She told them about saving the baby horse from hyenas and then raising her, and that because she had, they grew to know each other well. “One day I got up on her back, and when she started running, I held on. It was all I could do. When she finally slowed down and I got off, I could hardly believe what I had done. It was like flying with the wind in my face. I couldn’t help doing it again, and though at first I had no control, after a while I learned how to direct her. She goes where I want because she wants to. She’s my friend, and I think it pleases her to let me ride.”

“Still, it was an unusual thing to do. Didn’t anyone object?” Mardena said.

“There was no one to object. I was alone then,” Ayla said.

“I would have been afraid to live alone, with no other people,” Mardena said. She was full of curiosity and wanted to ask more questions, but before she had the chance, they heard a call and turned to see Jondalar coming.

“They’re here!” he said. “Dalanar and the Lanzadonii have arrived!”

“Wonderful!” Folara said. “I can hardly wait to see them.”

Ayla smiled with delight. “I am also anxious to see them.” She turned back to her visitors. “We have to go back to camp. The man of Jondalar’s hearth has arrived, in time for our Matrimonial.”

Of course,” Mardena said. “We’ll go right away.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind greeting Dalanar before we leave, Mardena,” Denoda said. “I used to know him.”

“You should,” Jondalar said. “I’m sure he’d be glad to see you.”

“And before you go, I need to ask you if you will allow Lanidar to come and check on the horses for me when I’m busy, Mardena,” Ayla said. “He doesn’t have to do anything except make sure they are all right, and come and get me if he notices anything wrong. I would appreciate it very much. It would be such a relief if I didn’t have to worry about them.”

When they turned to look, the boy was petting the young stallion and feeding him pieces of wild carrot.

“I think you can see they won’t hurt him,” Ayla said.

“Well, I suppose he could,” Mardena said.

Oh, mother, thank you!” Lanidar said, gririning. Mardena had never seen such a pleased and happy expression on his face.

28

W
here’s that boy of yours, Marthona? The one that everyone says looks just like me … well, perhaps a little younger,” said the tall man with long blond hair tied in a club in back. He held out both hands and smiled warmly in greeting. They knew each other too well for much formality.

“When he saw you coming, he ran to get Ayla,” Marthona said, taking his hands in hers and leaning forward to rub cheeks. He may be getting older, she thought, but he’s still handsome and as charming as ever. “They’ll be here soon, Dalanar, you can be sure. He’s been watching for you since we got here.”

“And where’s Willamar? I was very sorry to hear about Thonolan. I liked that young man. I want to express my sadness to you both,” he said.

“Thank you, Dalanar,” Marthona said.” Willamar is at the main camp, talking to some people about a trading mission. The news about Thonolan was especially hard on him. He always believed the son of his hearth would return. In all honesty, I doubted that either one of them would. When I first saw Jondalar, for a moment I thought it was you. I could hardly believe my son had come home. And what surprises he’s brought back, not the least of which is Ayla and her animals.”

“Yes, they are a shock You knew they stopped off to visit on their way here?” said the woman at his side.

Marthona turned to the woman. Dalanar’s mate was the most unusual person Marthona, or any of the Zelandonii, had ever seen. She was tiny, especially in comparison with her mate—if he held his arm out, she could walk beneath it without bending. Her straight long hair pulled back in a bun was as glossy and black as a raven’s wing, though streaks of gray lightened the sides, but the most arresting aspect was her face. It was round with a little snub of a nose, high wide cheekbones, and dark eyes that appeared slanted because of the epicanthic fold of her eyelids. Her skin was fair, perhaps a shade darker than her mate’s, though as the summer progressed both their faces would darken from the sun.

“Yes, they told us you planned to come to the Summer Meeting,” Marthona said after she had greeted the woman. “I understand Joplaya will be mated, too. You’ve arrived just in time, Jerika. All the women who are mating, along with their mothers, are supposed to meet with the zelandonia this afternoon. I am going with Ayla, since her own mother isn’t here to go. If you aré not too tired, you and Joplaya should come.”

“I think we can make it, Marthona,” Jerika said. “Do we have time to put up our lodges first?”

“I don’t see why not. Everyone will help,” Joharran said, “if you don’t mind setting up here, next to us.”

“And you won’t have to do any cooking. We had guests for a morning meal, and have plenty left over,” Proleva said.

“We’ll be glad to camp beside the Ninth Cave,” Dalanar said, “but what made you decide to pick this place? You usually like to be in the thick of things, Joharran.”

“By the time we arrived, all the best places in the main camp were taken, especially for a Cave as big as ours, and we didn’t want to be crowded. We looked around and found this, and I like it better,” Joharran said. “See those trees? That’s just the beginning of a good-size grove with plenty of firewood. This creek starts up there, too, in a clear spring. Long after everyone else’s water is muddy and churned up, we’ll still have good water, and there’s a nice pool. Jondalar and Ayla like it here, too, there’s space for the horses. We made a
place for them upstream. That’s where Ayla went, with her guests. She’s the one who invited them.”

“Who are they?” Dalanar asked. He couldn’t help but be curious about whom Ayla would invite.

“Do you remember that woman from the Nineteenth Cave who gave birth to the boy with the deformed arm? Mardena? Her mother is Denoda,” Marthona said.

“Yes, I do,” Dalanar said.

“The boy, Lanidar, can now count almost twelve years,” she said. “I’m still not sure how it came about, but I think he came up here to get away from all the people and probably some teasing from the other boys. I guess someone told him there were horses here. Everyone is interested in them, of course, and the boy is no exception. Somehow Ayla met him and decided to ask him to keep an eye on the horses for her. She’s concerned that with all the people here, someone, not realizing how special they are, might try to hunt them. It would be easy, they don’t run away.”

“That’s true,” Dalanar said. “Too bad we can’t make all animals that docile.”

“Ayla didn’t think that the boy’s mother might object, but it seems she’s very protective,” Marthona said. “She won’t even let him learn to hunt, or doesn’t think he can. So Ayla invited the boy and his mother and grandmother here to see the horses to try to convince her that they won’t hurt him. And only one good arm or not, she’s also decided that she’s going to teach him to use Jondalar’s new spear-thrower,” she said.

“She does have a mind of her own,” Jerika said. “I noticed that, but she’s not unkind.”

“No, she’s not, and she’s not afraid to stand up for herself, or to speak up for others,” Proleva said.

“Here they come,” Joharran said.

They saw a group of people, and a wolf, coming toward them, Jondalar in the lead, his sister close behind. They had all been walking at the pace of the slowest, but when he saw Dalanar and the others, Jondalar rushed ahead. The man of his hearth came toward him. They grabbed hands, then let go
and hugged each other. The older man put his arm around the shoulders of the younger man as they walked back, side by side.

The similarity between the two men was uncanny; they could have been the same man at two different stages of his life. The older one was a tad thicker at the waist, his hair a little thinner on top, but the face was the same, though the brow of the younger was not as deeply etched, and the jowls of the older were getting soft. They matched each other in height, walked with the same step, and moved the same way; even their eyes were the same vivid shade of glacier blue.

“There is no doubt which man’s spirit was chosen when the Mother created him,” Mardena said quietly to her mother, nodding her head at Jondalar as the visitors neared the camp. Lanidar saw Lanoga and went to talk to her.

“Dalanar looked just like him when he was young, and he hasn’t changed much,” Denoda said. “He’s still a most handsome man.”

Mardena was watching with great interest as Ayla and Wolf were greeted by the new arrivals. It was obvious they all knew each other, but she couldn’t help but stare at some of the people. The black-haired, tiny woman with the strange face seemed to be with the tall, blond older man who resembled Jondalar, perhaps as his mate.

“How do you know him, mother?” Mardena said.

“He was the man at my First Rites,” Denoda said. “Afterward, I begged the Mother to bless me with the spirit of his child.”

“Mother! You know that’s too soon for a woman to have a baby,” Mardena said.

“I didn’t care,” Denoda said. “I knew that sometimes a young woman got pregnant soon after First Rites, when she was finally a full woman and able to take in a man’s spirit. I hoped it would make him pay more attention to me if he thought I was carrying a child of his spirit.”

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