They stopped at the highest place, looked down, and watched a small log whirling around and around, going deeper and deeper with each spiraling turn.
“I would not want to fall into that,” Ayla said, shuddering at the thought.
“Nor would I,” Jondalar responded.
Ayla’s gaze was drawn to another site in the distance. “Where are those clouds of steam coming from, Jondalar?” she asked. “It’s freezing, and the hills are covered with snow.”
“There are pools of hot water over there, water warmed by the hot breath of Doni Herself. Some people are afraid to go near such places, but the people I want to visit live near such a deep hot well, or so they told me. The hot wells are sacred to them, even though some smell very bad. It’s said they use the water to cure illness.”
“How long before we reach those people you know? The ones who use water to cure illness,” she asked. Anything that might add to her
wealth of medical knowledge always piqued her interest. Besides, food was getting scarcer, or they didn’t want to take the time to look for it—but they had gone to bed hungry a couple of days.
The slope of the land increased noticeably beyond the last flat basin. They were hemmed in by highlands on both sides as the mountains pressed in. The mantel of ice to the south was increasing in height as they continued west. Far to the south and still somewhat west, two peaks soared far above all the other rugged mountaintops, one higher than the other, like a mated pair watching over their brood of children.
Where the highland leveled out near a shallower place in the river, Jondalar turned south, away from the river, toward a cloud of rising steam in the distance. They climbed a low ridge and looked down from the top across a snow-covered meadow at a steaming pool of water near a cave.
Several people had noticed their approach and stared in consternation, too shocked to move. One man, however, was aiming a spear at them.
I
think we’d better get off the horses and approach them on foot,” Jondalar said, watching several more spear-carrying men and women warily coming forward. “You’d think by now I would remember that people are scared and suspicious of riding on horses. We probably should have left them out of sight and walked in, then gone back for them after we had time to explain about the animals.”
They both dismounted, and Jondalar had a sudden and poignant memory of his “little brother,” Thonolan, smiling his big, friendly grin and walking confidently up to a Cave or Camp of strangers. Taking it as a sign, the tall blond man smiled broadly, waved in friendliness, pushed back the hood of his parka so he could be more easily seen, then stepped forward with both hands outstretched, showing he was coming to them openly, with nothing to hide.
“I’m looking for Laduni of the Losadunai. I am Jondalar of the Zelandonii,” he said. “My brother and I were traveling east on a Journey a few years ago, and Laduni asked us to stop and visit on the way back.”
“I am Laduni,” said a man, speaking a slightly accented Zelandonii. He walked toward them, holding his spear in readiness, looking closely to make sure the strange man was who he said he was. “Jondalar? Of the Zelandonii? You do look like the man I met.”
Jondalar sensed the cautious tone. “That’s because I am! It’s good to see you, Laduni,” he said with warmth. “I wasn’t sure if I turned off at the right place. I’ve been all the way to the end of the Great Mother River, and beyond, and then, closer to home, I had trouble finding your Cave, but the steam from your hot wells helped. I brought someone I’d like you to meet.”
The older man eyed Jondalar, trying to detect any hint that he was something other than what he seemed: a man he knew who happened to arrive in a most peculiar fashion. He looked a little older, which was reasonable, and even more like Dalanar. He had seen the old flint knapper again a few years before when he came on a trading mission and, Laduni suspected, to find out whether the son of his hearth and his brother had passed that way. Dalanar will be very glad to see him, Laduni thought. He walked toward Jondalar, holding his spear more
easily, but still in a position from which it could be thrown quickly. He glanced toward the two unusually docile horses, and he saw for the first time that it was a woman who was standing near them.
“Those horses are not anything like the ones around here. Are eastern horses more docile? They must be much easier to hunt,” Laduni said.
Suddenly the man tensed, brought his spear into position to throw, and had it aimed toward Ayla. “Don’t move, Jondalar!” he said.
It happened so fast, Jondalar didn’t have time to react. “Laduni! What are you doing?”
“A wolf has been trailing you. One fearless enough to come in plain sight.”
“No!” Ayla shouted, throwing herself between the wolf and the man with the spear.
“This wolf travels with us. Don’t kill him!” Jondalar said, rushing to interpose himself between Laduni and Ayla.
She dropped down and wrapped her arms around the wolf, holding him firmly, partly to protect him, and partly to protect the man with the spear. Wolf’s hair was bristling, his lips were pulled back to show his fangs, and a savage snarl issued from his throat.
Laduni was taken aback. He had moved to protect the visitors, but they were acting as if he meant to harm them. He gave Jondalar a questioning look.
“Put down your spear, Laduni. Please,” Jondalar said. “The wolf is our companion, just as the horses are. He saved our lives. I promise, he won’t hurt anyone as long as no one threatens him, or the woman. I know it must seem strange, but if you’ll give me a chance, I’ll explain.”
Laduni slowly lowered his spear, eying the large wolf warily. Once the threat was removed, Ayla calmed the animal, then stood up and walked toward Jondalar and Laduni, signaling Wolf to stay close to her side.
“Please excuse Wolf for raising his hackles,” Ayla said. “He really likes people, once he gets to know them, but we had a bad experience with some people east of here. It has made him more nervous around strangers, and he has become more protective.”
Laduni noticed that she spoke Zelandonii quite well, but her strange accent branded her as a foreigner immediately. He also noticed … something else … he wasn’t sure. It was nothing he could specifically define. He’d seen many blond, blue-eyed women before, but the set of her cheekbones, the shape of her features or face, something gave her a foreign look as well. Whatever it was, it did not detract in the least from the fact that she was a strikingly beautiful woman. If anything, it added an element of mystery.
He looked at Jondalar and smiled. Remembering his last visit, it didn’t surprise him that the tall, handsome Zelandonii would return from a long Journey with an exotic beauty, but no one could have expected living, breathing souvenirs of his adventures, like horses and a wolf. He could hardly wait to hear the stories they had to tell.
Jondalar had seen the look of appreciation in Laduni’s eyes when he saw Ayla, and, when the man smiled, he began to relax.
“This is the person I wanted you to meet,” Jondalar said. “Laduni, hunter of the Losadunai, this is Ayla of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, Chosen by the Cave Lion, Protected by the Cave Bear, and Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth.”
Ayla had raised both hands, palms up, in the greeting of openness and friendship, when Jondalar began the formal introduction. “I greet you, Laduni, Master Hunter of the Losadunai,” Ayla said.
Laduni wondered how she knew he was the hunt leader of his people. Jondalar hadn’t said it. Perhaps he’d said something to her before, but she was astute for mentioning it. But then, she would understand those kinds of things. With so many titles and affiliations, she must be a woman of high standing among her people, he thought. I might have guessed that any woman he brought back would be, considering that both his mother and the man of his hearth have known the responsibilities of leadership. The child will tell the blood of the mother and the spirit of the man.
Laduni took both her hands. “In the name of Duna, the Great Earth Mother, you are welcome, Ayla of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, Chosen of the Lion, Protected by the Great Bear, and Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth,” Laduni said.
“I thank you for your welcome,” Ayla said, still in a formal mode. “And if I may, I would like to introduce you to Wolf, so that he will know you are a friend.”
Laduni frowned, not sure if he really wanted to meet a wolf, but under the circumstances he felt he had no choice.
“Wolf, this is Laduni of the Losadunai,” she said, taking the man’s hand and bringing it to the wolf’s nose. “He is a friend.” After he smelled the hand of the strange man, mixed with the smell of Ayla’s hand, Wolf seemed to understand that this was someone to accept. He sniffed the man’s male parts, much to Laduni’s consternation.
“That’s enough, Wolf,” Ayla said, signaling him back. Then to Laduni, she added, “He has now learned that you are a friend, and that you are a man. If you would like to welcome him, he likes to be petted on the head and scratched behind the ears.”
Though still wary, the idea of touching a living wolf intrigued him. Gingerly he reached out and felt the rough fur, and seeing that his
touch was accepted, he stroked the animal’s head, then rubbed a little behind his ears, pleased about the whole thing. It wasn’t that he hadn’t touched wolf fur before, just not on a living animal.
“I am sorry I threatened your companion,” he said. “But I have never seen a wolf accompany people of his own free will before, or horses either, for that matter.”
“It is understandable,” Ayla said. “I will take you to meet the horses later. They tend to be shy of strangers, and they need some time to get used to new people.”
“Are all the eastern animals this friendly?” Laduni asked, pressing for an answer to a question that would be of interest to any hunter.
Jondalar smiled. “No, animals are the same everywhere. These are special because of Ayla.”
Laduni nodded, fighting his impulse to ask them further questions, knowing the whole Cave would want to hear their stories. “I have welcomed you, and I invite you to come inside to share warmth and food, and a place to rest, but I think I should go first and explain about you to the rest of the Cave.”
Laduni walked back toward the group gathered in front of a large opening in the side of a rock wall. He explained about meeting Jondalar a few years before, when he was starting on his Journey, and inviting him to visit on his way back. He mentioned that Jondalar was related to Dalanar, and emphasized that they were people, not some kind of threatening spirits, and that they would tell them about the horses and the wolf. “They should have some interesting stories to tell,” he concluded, knowing what an enticement that would be to a group of people who had been essentially cavebound since the beginning of winter and were getting bored.
The language he spoke was not the Zelandonii he had spoken to the travelers, but after listening for a while, Ayla was sure she heard similarities. She realized that although they had a different stress and pronunciation, Losadunai was related to Zelandonii in the same way that S’Armunai, and Sharamudoi for that matter, were related to Mamutoi. This language even had a link with S’Armunai. She had understood some of the words and had picked up the gist of some of his comments. She would be speaking with these people in a few days.
Ayla’s gift for languages did not seem unusual to her. She didn’t consciously try to learn them, but her sharp ear for nuance and inflection and her ability to see the connections made it easy for her. Losing her own language in the trauma of losing her people when she was very young, and having to learn a different way of communicating, but one that utilized the same areas of the brain as spoken language, enhanced her inherent language skills. Her need to learn to communicate again
when she discovered that she could not, gave her an unconscious but profound incentive to learn any unfamiliar language. It was the combination of natural ability and circumstances that made her so adept.
“Losaduna says you are most welcome to stay at the visitors’ hearth,” Laduna said to them after his explanation.
“We need to unpack the horses and get them settled first,” Jondalar said. “This field right outside your cave seems to have some good winter graze. Will anyone mind if we leave them here?”
“You are welcome to use the field,” Laduni said. “I think everyone will be intrigued to see horses so close.” He couldn’t help glancing at Ayla, wondering what she had done to the animals. It seemed obvious that she commanded very powerful spirits.
“I must ask something else,” Ayla said. “Wolf is accustomed to sleeping near us. He would be quite unhappy anywhere else. If having the wolf inside would make your Losaduna, or your Cave, uncomfortable, we will set up our tent and sleep outside.”
Laduni spoke again to the people, and after some conversation he turned back to the visitors. “They want you to come in, but some of the mothers fear for their children,” he said.
“I understand their fear. I can promise that Wolf will not harm anyone, but if that is not enough, we will stay outside.”
There was more conversation, then Laduni said, “They say you should come in.”
Laduni went with them when Ayla and Jondalar went to unpack the horses, and he was just as thrilled to meet Whinney and Racer as he had been to meet Wolf. He had done his share of horse hunting, but he had never touched one, except by chance when he managed to get close enough during the chase. Ayla recognized his enjoyment, and she thought that later she might offer him a ride on Whinney’s back.
As they walked back toward the cave, dragging their things in the bowl boat, Laduni asked Jondalar about his brother. When he saw pain flash across the tall man’s face, he knew there had been a tragedy before Jondalar answered.
“Thonolan died. He was killed by a cave lion.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I liked him,” Laduni said.
“Everyone liked him.”
“He was so eager to follow the Great Mother River all the way to the end. Did he get there?”
“Yes, he did reach the end of Donau before he died, but he had no heart for it by then. He had fallen in love with a woman, and mated her, but she died in childbirth,” Jondalar said. “It changed him, took the heart out of him. He didn’t want to live after that.”