The woman on horseback nodded, understanding her well enough. This leader cared little for formal introductions, Ayla noticed; not very subtle.
“Since you put such importance on it, you must allow me to extend the hospitality of my lodge. You will stay with me, won’t you?”
Before either Ayla or Jondalar could respond, S’Armuna spoke up. “I believe it is customary to offer visitors a place with the One Who Serves the Mother. You are welcome to share my lodge.”
While listening to Attaroa and waiting for the translation, the shivering man pulled on his trousers. Jondalar hadn’t thought too much about how cold he was before, when his life was in immediate jeopardy, but his fingers were so stiff that he fumbled to tie knots in the severed cords that held his legwear on. Though it was torn, he was grateful to have his tunic, but he stopped for a moment, surprised, when he heard S’Armuna’s offer. Looking up after he pulled the tunic over his head, he noticed that Attaroa was scowling at the shaman; then he sat down to put on his foot-coverings and boots as quickly as he could.
She will hear from me later, Attaroa thought, but she said, “Then you must allow me to share food with you, Ayla. We will prepare a feast, and you will be the honored guests. Both of you.” She included Jondalar in her glance. “We have recently had a successful hunt, and I cannot allow you to leave, thinking too badly of me.”
Jondalar thought her attempt at a friendly smile was ludicrous, and he had no desire either to eat their food or to stay in this encampment a moment longer, but before he could voice his opinion, Ayla answered.
“We will be happy to accept your hospitality, Attaroa. When do you plan to have this feast? I would like to make something to bring, but it is late in the day.”
“Yes, it is late,” Attaroa said, “and there are some things I will want to prepare, too. The feast will be tomorrow, but of course, you will share our simple meal tonight?”
“There are things I must do for my contribution to your feast. We will be back tomorrow,” Ayla said. Then she added, “Jondalar still needs his outer fur, Attaroa. Of course, he will return the ‘cloak’ he was wearing.”
The woman pulled the parka up over her head and gave it to the man. He smelled her female scent when he pulled it on, but he appreciated the warmth. Attaroa’s smile was pure evil as she stood in the cold in her thin inner garment.
“And the rest of his things?” Ayla reminded her.
Attaroa glanced at the entrance to her lodge and motioned to the woman who had been standing there for some time. Epadoa quickly brought Jondalar’s gear and put it on the ground some feet away from him. She was not happy about returning his things. Attaroa had promised some of them to her. She had particularly wanted the knife. She had never seen one so beautifully made.
Jondalar tied on his belt, then put his tools and implements in their places, hardly believing he had everything back. He had doubted if he’d ever see them again. For that matter, he had doubted that he’d ever leave alive. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he leaped up behind the woman on the horse. This was one Camp he would be glad to see the
last of. Ayla scanned the area, making sure no one was in a position to try to prevent them from leaving, or to cast a spear after them. Then she turned Whinney and left at a gallop.
“Follow them! I want them back. They aren’t getting away that easily,” Attaroa snarled to Epadoa, as she stomped into her lodge in a hot rage, shivering with cold.
Ayla kept Whinney at a fast pace until they were some distance away and heading down the hill. They slowed when they entered a wooded stretch at the bottom, near the river, then doubled back in the direction they had come, toward her camp, which was actually quite close to the S’Armunai settlement. Once they settled into a more steady pace, Jondalar became aware of Ayla’s closeness, and he felt such an overwhelming gratitude to be with her again that it almost took his breath away He put his arms around her waist and held her, feeling her hair on his cheek and breathing in her unique warm woman-scent.
“You’re here, with me. It’s so hard to believe. I was afraid you were gone, walking in the next world,” he said softly. “I’m so grateful to have you back, I don’t know what to say.”
“I love you so much, Jondalar,” she replied. She leaned back, pressing herself even more into his arms, feeling such a relief to be with him again. Her love for him welled up and filled her to overflowing. “I found a bloodstain, and all the while I was following your trail, trying to find you, I never knew if you were alive or dead. When I realized they were carrying you, I thought you must be alive, but hurt bad enough that you couldn’t walk. I was so worried, but the trail was not easy to follow, and I knew I was falling behind. Attaroa’s hunters can travel very fast, for being on foot, and they knew the way.”
“You got here just in time. It’s a good thing you arrived when you did. A little later and it would have been too late,” Jondalar said.
“I didn’t just get here.”
“You didn’t? When did you arrive?”
“I came right after the second load of horsemeat. I was ahead of both of them at first, but the ones carrying the first load caught up with me at the river crossing. It was lucky that I saw two women going to meet them. I found a place to hide and waited for them to go past me, and followed them, but the hunters with the second load of meat were closer than I knew. I think they might have seen me, at least from a distance. I was riding at the time, and I rode away from the trail fast. Later I went back and followed again, but I was more careful, in case there was a third load.”
“That would explain the ‘commotion’ Ardemun was talking about. He didn’t know what it was, he just knew everyone was nervous and
talking after they brought in the second load. But if you’ve been here, why did you wait so long to get me out of there?” Jondalar asked.
“I had to watch for a long time, waiting for a chance to get you out of that fenced keeping place—what do they call it, a Holding?”
Jondalar made a sound of assent. “Weren’t you afraid someone would see you?”
“I’ve watched real wolves in their den; next to them, Attaroa’s Wolves are noisy and easy to avoid. I was close enough to hear them talking most of the time. There’s a knoll behind the Camp, up the hill. From there you can see the whole settlement and directly into that Holding. Behind it, if you look up, you can see three big white rocks in a row high in the hillside.
“I noticed them. I wish I’d known you were there. It would have made me feel better every time I saw those white rocks.”
“I heard a couple of the women call them the Three Girls or maybe the Three Sisters,” Ayla said.
“They call it the Camp of the Three Sisters,” Jondalar said.
“I guess I don’t know the language very well, yet.”
“You know more than I do. I think you surprised Attaroa when you spoke in their language.”
“S’Armunai is so much like Mamutoi that it’s easy to get a sense of the words,” Ayla said.
“I never thought to ask if the white rocks had a name. They make such a good landmark, it seems logical that they would be named.”
“That whole highland is a good landmark. You can see it from a long way. At a distance it resembles a sleeping animal, even on this side. There’s a place ahead with a good view, you’ll see.”
“I’m sure the hill must have a name, too, especially since it’s such a good location for hunting, but I’ve only seen a little of it, when we went to funerals. There have been two of them, just in the time I’ve been here, and the first time they buried three young people,” Jondalar said, ducking his head to avoid the bare branches of a tree.
“I followed you to the second funeral,” Ayla said. “I thought I might be able to get you out then, but you were too closely watched. And then you found the flint and were showing everyone about spear-throwers,” Ayla said. “I had to wait until the time was right, so I could surprise them. I’m sorry it took so long.”
“How did you know about the flint? We thought we were careful,” Jondalar said.
“I was watching you all the time. Those Wolf Women really aren’t very good watchers. You would have seen that and found a way to get out yourself, if you hadn’t gotten distracted with the flint. For that matter, they aren’t very good hunters, either,” she said.
“When you consider that they didn’t know anything to start with, they haven’t done badly Attaroa said they didn’t know how to use spears, so they had to chase animals,” Jondalar said.
“They waste their time going all the way to the Great Mother River to chase horses off a cliff, when they could hunt better right here. Animals following this river have to go across a narrow stretch between the water and the highland, and you can easily see them coming,” Ayla said.
“I saw that when we went to the first funeral. The place they were buried would be a good lookout, and someone has signaled with balefires from up there before, though I don’t know how recently. I could see the charcoal from large fires,” Jondalar commented.
“Instead of building surrounds for men, they could have made one to hold animals and chased them into that, even without spears,” Ayla said, then pulled Whinney to a halt. “Look, there it is.” She pointed to the limestone highland outlined against the horizon.
“It does look like an animal sleeping, and look, you can even see the three white stones, the Three Sisters,” Jondalar said.
They rode in silence for a while. Then, as though he had been thinking about it, Jondalar said, “If it’s so easy to get out of the Holding, why haven’t the men done it?”
“I don’t think they have really tried,” Ayla said. “Maybe that’s why the women have stopped watching so closely. But a lot of the women, even some of the hunters, don’t want the men kept in there any more. They are just afraid of Attaroa.” Ayla stopped then. “This is where I have been camping,” she said.
As if to confirm it, Racer nickered a greeting as they entered a small secluded space that was clear of brush. The young stallion was tied securely to a tree. Ayla had set up a minimal camp in the middle of the copse each night, but she had packed everything on Racer’s back in the morning to be ready to leave immediately if it was necessary.
“You saved both of them from going over that cliff!” Jondalar said. “I didn’t know if you had, and I was afraid to ask. The last thing I remember, before I was hit on the head, was seeing you on Racer’s back, having some trouble controlling him.”
“I had to get used to the rein, that’s all. The biggest problem was that other stallion, but now he’s gone and I’m sorry. Whinney came to my whistle as soon as they stopped herding her away from me,” Ayla said.
Racer was just as glad to see Jondalar. He dropped his head, then flipped it up in greeting, and he would have walked to the man if he hadn’t been tied. The stallion, his ears forward and his tail lifted high, whinnied to Jondalar with eager anticipation as he approached. Then he lowered his head to nuzzle the man’s hand. Jondalar greeted the
stallion like a friend he thought he would never see again, hugging, scratching, stroking, and talking to the animal.
He frowned when he thought of another question, one he almost hated to ask. “What about Wolf?”
Ayla smiled, then pierced the air with an unfamiliar whistle. Wolf came bounding out of the brush, so glad to see Jondalar that he couldn’t keep still. He ran to him, wagging his tail, barked a little yip, then jumped up and put his paws on the man’s shoulders and licked his jaw. Jondalar grabbed him by the ruff as he’d seen Ayla do so many times, roughed it up a bit, then pressed his forehead against the wolf’s.
“He’s never done that to me before,” Jondalar said, surprised.
“He missed you. I think he wanted to find you as much as I did, and I’m not sure I would have been able to track you without him. We’re quite a distance from the Great Mother River, and there were long stretches of rocky dry ground that showed no tracks. But his nose found the trail,” Ayla said. Then she greeted the wolf.
“But he was waiting there in that brush all the time? And he didn’t come until you signaled? It must have been hard to teach him that, but why did you?”
“I had to teach him to hide because I didn’t know who might be coming here, and I didn’t want them to know about him. They eat wolf meat.”
“Who eats wolf meat?” Jondalar asked, wrinkling his nose with repugnance.
“Attaroa and her hunters.”
“Are they that hungry?” Jondalar asked.
“Maybe they were once, but now they do it as a ritual. I watched them one night. They were initiating a new hunter, making a young woman part of their Wolf Pack. They keep it a secret from the other women, go away from the lodges to a special place. They had a live wolf in a cage and killed it, butchered it, then cooked it and ate it. They like to think they are getting the strength and cunning of the wolf that way. It would be better if they just watched wolves. They’d learn more,” Ayla said.
No wonder she seemed so disapproving of the Wolf Women and their hunting skills, Jondalar thought, suddenly understanding why she didn’t like them. Their initiation rites threatened her wolf. “So you taught Wolf to stay in hiding until you called him. That’s a new whistle, isn’t it?” he said.
“I’ll teach it to you, but even if he does stay in hiding—most of the time—when I tell him, I still worry about him. Whinney and Racer, too. Horses and wolves are the only animals I’ve ever seen Attaroa’s women kill,” she said, looking around at her beloved animals.
“You’ve learned a lot about them, Ayla,” Jondalar said.
“I had to learn everything I could, so I could get you out of there,” she said. “But maybe I learned too much.”
“Too much? How could you learn too much?”
“When I first found you, I only thought about getting you out of that place, and then getting away from here as soon as we could, but now we can’t go.”
“What do you mean we can’t go? Why not?” Jondalar said, frowning.
“We can’t leave those children living in such terrible conditions, or the men, either. We have to get them out of that Holding,” Ayla said.
Jondalar became worried. He had seen that determined look before. “It’s dangerous to stay here, Ayla, and not just for us. Think what easy targets those two horses would make. They don’t run away from people. And you don’t want to see Wolf’s teeth hanging around Attaroa’s neck, do you? I want to help those people, too. I lived inside that place, and no one should have to live like that, especially children, but what can we do? We are only two people.”