Part 8 (1/2)

”Does that stone have a name?” she asked, pointing to it.

”It's called the Falling Stone,” Jondalar said.

”That's a good name for it,” she said. ”And didn't your mother mention names for those rivers?”

”The main river doesn't really have a name,” Jondalar said. ”Everyone just calls it The River. Most people think of it as the most important river in the region, even though it's not the biggest. It flows into a much larger one south of here-in fact, we call that one Big River-but many of the Zelandonii Caves live near this one, and everyone knows it's the one that's meant when someone says The River.

”The little tributary down there is called Wood River,” Jondalar continued. ”Many trees grow near it, and there is more wood in that valley than in most. It's not used by hunters much.” Ayla nodded in tacit understanding.

The valley of the feeder stream, flanked on the right by limestone cliffs and on the left by steep hills, was not like most of the open gra.s.sy valleys of the main river and its other nearby tributaries. It was dense with trees and vegetation, especially upstream. Unlike more open areas, woodlands were not prized by hunters, because hunting was more difficult. Animals were harder to see with trees and brush to hide behind and use for camouflage, and those that migrated in large herds tended to prefer valleys with sizable fields of gra.s.s. On the other hand, the valley did provide wood, for constructions, and implements, and for fire. Fruits and nuts were also collected, and several other plants that were gathered for food and other uses, along with smaller animals that fell to snares and traps. In a land of relatively few trees, no one disdained the value of Wood River Valley's contributions.

At the northeastern edge of the Ninth Cave's terrace below, which also offered a view of the two river valleys, Ayla saw the obvious remains of a good-size fire. She hadn't noticed it when she was there, she had been more concerned with following the trail down to the horse's meadow in Wood River Valley.

”Why is there such a large hearth at the edge of the terrace, Jondalar? It can't be for warmth; is it used for cooking?”

”That's a signal fire,” he said, then continued when he noticed her puzzled expression. ”A big balefire can be seen for quite a distance from that spot. We send messages to other Caves with the fires, and they pa.s.s the messages on with their signal fires.”

”What kind of messages?”

”Oh, many kinds. They are used a lot when herds are moving, letting hunters know what's been seen. They are sometimes used to announce events or gathers, or some other kind of meeting.”

”But how does someone know what the fire means?”

”It's usually arranged in advance, especially when it's the season for certain herds to move and a hunt is planned. And there are certain fire signals that mean someone needs help. Any time that people see a fire burning there, they know to take notice. If they don't know what it means, they will send a runner to find out.”

”That's a very clever idea,” she said, then added a thought. ”It's something like the Clan signs and signals, isn't it? Communicating without words.”

”I never thought of it that way, but I suppose you're right,” he said.

Jondalar went back a different way from the one they had come. He headed toward The River Valley along a switchback trail that traversed a zigzag down the steeper incline near the top, then turned right through gra.s.s and brush on the more gradual slope. It came out along the edge of the flat lowlands of the right bank of The River and cut directly across Wood River Valley to the horse's meadow.

On the way back, Ayla felt relaxed, but she didn't have the exhilarating sense of freedom that she'd had on the ride out. Though she liked everyone she had met so far, there was still the big feast, and she was not antic.i.p.ating meeting the rest of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii tonight. She wasn't used to so many people all at once.

They left Whinney and Racer in the gra.s.sy lea and found the place where the soap plant grew, but Jondalar had to point it out. It was one Ayla was not familiar with. She studied it carefully, noted similarities and differences, and made sure she would know it in the future, then got her pouch of dried ceanothus flowers.

Wolf jumped into The River with them but didn't stay in long after they stopped paying attention to him. After a long swim to soak away the dust and grime of traveling, they crushed the root of the plant and some water in a depression of a flat rock with a rounded stone to release the saponin-rich foam. They rubbed it on themselves and, laughing, on each other, then dove under to rinse off. She gave some ceanothus to Jondalar, then applied some directly to her wet hair. The plant was not as soapy, foaming up only a little, but it smelled sweet and fresh. By the time she rinsed again, the young woman was ready to get out.

After drying with the soft skins, they spread them out and sat on them, sunning themselves. Ayla picked up the comb with four long teeth that had been carved out of mammoth ivory, which was a gift from her Mamutoi friend, Deegie, but when she started combing her hair, Jondalar stopped her.

”Let me do that for you,” he said, taking the comb. He had developed a fondness for combing her hair after she washed it, taking pleasurable delight in feeling the thick ma.s.s of wet hair dry into soft, springy tresses. And it made her feel unaccustomedly pampered.

”I like your mother and your sister,” Ayla said, sitting with her back to him while he combed, ”and Willamar, too.”

”They like you, too.”

”And Joharran seems like a good leader. Do you know you and your brother have the same frown lines?” she asked. ”I had to like him, he looks so familiar.”

”He was smitten by that beautiful smile of yours,” Jondalar said. ”Just as I am.”

Ayla was quiet for a time, then showed the direction her thoughts had taken with her next comment. ”You didn't tell me there were so many people in your Cave. It's like a whole Clan Gathering lives here,” she said. ”And you seem to know them all. I'm not sure if I ever will.”

”Don't worry. You will. It won't take you long,” he said, trying to work out a particularly irksome tangle. ”Oh, sorry, did I pull too hard?”

”No, it's fine. I'm glad I finally met your Zelandoni. She knows medicine; it will be wonderful to have someone to talk with about it.”

”She's a powerful woman, Ayla.”

”That's obvious. How long has she been Zelandoni?”

”Let me think,” he answered. ”Not long after I left to live with Dalanar, I think. I still thought of her as Zolena then. She was beautiful. Voluptuous. I don't think she was ever thin, but she is growing to look more and more like the Great Mother. I think she likes you.” He stopped combing for a moment, paused, then started to laugh.

”What's so funny?” Ayla asked.

”I was listening to you tell her how you found me, and about Baby and all. She'll be asking you more questions, you can be sure. I was watching her expression. Every time you answered a question, she probably wanted to ask you three more. You just made her more curious. You do it every time. You are a mystery, even to me. Do you know just how remarkable you are, woman?”

She had turned around, and he was looking at her with loving eyes.

”Give me a little time and I'll show you how remarkable you you can be,” she answered, a lazy, sensuous smile spreading across her face. Jondalar reached over to kiss her. can be,” she answered, a lazy, sensuous smile spreading across her face. Jondalar reached over to kiss her.

They heard a laugh and they both jerked around.

”Oh, did we interrupt anything?” said a woman. It was the attractive light-haired, dark-eyed woman who had listened to Folara tell her friends about the newly arrived travelers. Two other women were with her.

”Marona!” Jondalar said, frowning slightly. ”No, you are not interrupting anything. I'm just surprised to see you.”

”Why should you be surprised to see me? Did you think I had left on an unexpected Journey?” Marona said.

Jondalar squirmed and glanced at Ayla, who was looking at the women. ”No. Of course not. I guess I'm just surprised.”

”We were just out taking a walk when we happened to see you there, and I admit, Jondalar, I couldn't resist wanting to make you feel a little uncomfortable. After all, we were Promised.”

They hadn't been formally Promised, but he didn't argue with her. He knew he had certainly given her the impression that they were.

”I didn't know that you would still be living here. I thought you might have mated someone from another Cave,” Jondalar said.

”I did,” she said. ”It didn't last, so I came back.” She had been eyeing his hard, tanned, naked body in a way that was familiar to him. ”You haven't changed much in five years, Jondalar. Except for a few nasty scars.” She turned her gaze to Ayla. ”But we really didn't come here to talk to you. We came to meet your friend,” Marona said.

”She'll be formally introduced to everyone tonight,” he said, feeling protective of Ayla.

”That's what we heard, but we don't need a formal introduction. We just wanted to greet her and make her welcome.”

He could hardly refuse to introduce them. ”Ayla, of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, this is Marona of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, and her friends.” He looked more closely. ”Portula? Of the Fifth Cave? Is it you?” Jondalar asked.

The woman smiled and blushed with pleasure to be remembered. Marona frowned at her. ”Yes, I'm Portula, but I'm Third Cave now.” She certainly remembered him. He had been chosen for her First Rites.

But he recalled that she had been one of those young women who had followed him around afterward, trying to get him alone, even though they were forbidden to a.s.sociate for at least a year after First Rites. Her persistence had spoiled somewhat his memory of a ceremony that usually left him with a warm glow of fondness for the young woman involved.