by Jean M. Auel
'I'm really tired,' Ayla said. 'I don't think I'd be very good company. I'm going to bed early, but will you send Jonayla in when she comes?'
'Are you feeling all right, Ayla?' Proleva asked, finding it hard to believe that she would just go to bed. She had been trying to find Jondalar all day, and now she wouldn't even walk a little ways to look for him.
'I'm fine. I'm just tired,' Ayla said, heading for one of the large circular dwellings that ringed the central fireplace.
A wall of sturdy vertical panels made of overlapped cattail leaves, which shed rain, was attached to the outside of a circle of poles sunk into the ground. A second interior wall of panels woven out of flattened bullrush stems was attached to the inside of the poles, leaving an air space between for extra insulation to make it cooler on hot days and, with a fire inside, warmer on cool nights. The roof was a thick thatch of phragmite reeds, sloping down from a centre pole, supported by a circular frame of slender alder poles lashed together. The smoke escaped through a hole near the centre.
The construction provided a fairly large enclosed space that could be left open or divided into smaller areas with movable interior panels. Sleeping rolls were spread out on mats made of bullrushes, tall phragmite reeds, cattail leaves, and grasses around a central fireplace. Ayla partially undressed and crawled into her sleeping roll, but was far from ready to sleep. When she closed her eyes, all she could see was the scene of Jondalar with Marona, and her mind whirled with the implications.
Ayla knew that among the Zelandoni jealousy was not condoned, though she was not as aware that behaviour designed to provoke it was even less acceptable. People recognised that jealousy existed and fully understood its cause, and more important, its often damaging effects. But in a harsh land often overwhelmed by long and bitter glacial winters, survival depended on mutual cooperation and assistance. The unwritten strictures against any behaviour that could undermine the necessary goodwill required to maintain that unanimity and understanding were strongly enforced by social customs.
In such adverse conditions, children were especially at risk. Many died young, and while the community in general was important to their well-being, a close, caring family was considered essential. Though most commonly families began with a woman and man, they could be extended in any number of ways. Not only with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins but, so long as it was agreeable to everyone involved, a woman might select more than one man, a man might choose two, or more women, or even multiple couples might join. The only exception was the prohibition of close family members joining. Siblings could not mate with each other, or those recognised as 'close' cousins, for example. Other relationships were highly disapproved, though not expressly forbidden, such as a young man and his donii-woman.
Once the family was formed, customs and practices had developed to encourage its continuity. Jealousy did not favour long-term bonds, and various measures to alleviate its detrimental effects were understood. Passing attractions could often be appeased by the socially approved festivals to honour the Mother. Incidental relationships outside the family were usually overlooked, if they were conducted with restraint and discretion.
If the appeal of a mate was waning, or a stronger attraction developed, incorporation into the family was preferable to breaking it apart. And when nothing would serve except to sever the knot, there were always penalties of some sort levied against one or another or several of the people involved to discourage breaking apart, particularly when there were children.
Penalties might consist of continued assistance and support of the family for a period of time, sometimes coupled with restrictions against forming a new bond for a similar period of time. Or the penalty might be paid all at once, particularly if one or more of the people wanted to move away. There were no hard-and-fast rules. Each situation was judged individually within generally known customs by a number of people, usually those with no direct interest, who were known to have qualities of wisdom, fairness, and leadership.
If, for example, a man wanted to sever the knot with his mate and leave a family to mate with another woman, there would have to be a waiting period, the duration determined by several factors, one of which might be if the other woman was pregnant. During the wait, they would be urged to join the family rather than break the bond. If there was too much antipathy for the new woman to want to join or for her to be accepted into the family, the man could break the existing bond, but he could be required to assist in the support of the original family for some stated length of time. Or some total amount of stored foods, tools, implements, or whatever that could be traded could be paid at once.
A woman could also leave and, especially if she had children and was living at her mate's Cave, might return to the Cave she was born to, or move to the Cave of another man. If some or all of the children stayed with the mate, or if a woman left a mate who was sick, or disabled, a woman might have to pay a penalty. If they were living at her home Cave, she could ask for the Cave to make an unwanted mate leave — his mother's Cave would then be required to accept him. Usually there would be a reason given — a mate was cruel to her or her children, or he was lazy and didn't provide adequately — although it might not be the real reason. It could be that he wasn't paying enough attention to her, or that she was interested in pursuing someone else, or simply that she was no longer interested in living with him, or any other man.
Occasionally one or the other or both simply said they no longer wished to live together. The Cave's concern was, primarily, for the children and if they were provided for; if they were grown, almost any arrangement that people chose to make was acceptable. If there were no children involved, and no other extenuating circumstances, such as an illness of a family member, the knot could be severed — the relationship broken — with relative ease by either the woman or the man, usually involving little more than cutting a symbolic knot in a rope and moving out.
In any of those situations, jealousy could be most disruptive, but in any case, was not tolerated. The Cave would step in, if necessary. So long as it was agreeable and did not cause problems between Caves or disrupt the relationships of others, people could make almost any arrangements they wanted.
Of course, nothing kept anyone from avoiding a penalty by simply packing up and moving away, but other Caves usually learned about most separations sooner or later, and did not hesitate to exert social pressures as well. He or she would not be driven out, but would not be made very welcome either. A person would have to live alone, or move far away to avoid the penalties, and most people didn't want to be alone or live with strangers.
In the case of Dalanar, he had been more than willing to pay his penalty and then some. He didn't have another woman, and in fact still loved Marthona; he just couldn't bear to stay with her anymore when so much of her time and attention was directed toward the needs of the Ninth Cave. He traded belongings in order to pay the full penalty as soon as possible so he could leave, but he hadn't planned to stay away. He wanted to go only because the situation was too distressing for him to remain, and once he did leave, he just kept going until he found himself in the mountain foothills some distance to the east, where he stumbled across the flint mine, and stayed.
Ayla was still wide awake when Jonayla and Wolf came into the tent. She got up to help her daughter get ready for bed. After some attention from her, Wolf went to the place she had set out for him, using his blankets. She greeted some others who had just come into the large, sturdy, not-quite-permanent structure designed to sleep several, or to keep them dry when it rained.
'Where were you, mother?' Jonayla asked. 'You weren't here when I came back with Zelandoni.'
'I was out riding Whinney,' Ayla explained. To the young girl who loved nothing more than riding her horse, the explanation was sufficient.
'Can I go out with you tomorrow? I haven't ridden Grey for a long time.'
'How long?' Ayla asked with a smile.
'This many days.' Jonayla held out
two fingers on one hand and three fingers on the other. She didn't quite have the concept of counting yet, especially relating numbers of fingers to numbers of days.
Ayla smiled. 'Can you say the counting words for how many that is?' She touched each finger to help her.
'One, two, four …,' Jonayla began.
'No, three, and then four.'
'Three, four, five!' Jonayla finished.
'That's very good!' Ayla said. 'Yes, I think we can go riding together tomorrow.'
Children were not separated from adults and regularly taught in an organised way. They learned by observation and trial of adult activities, for the most part. Young children were with a caring adult most of the time, until they showed a desire to explore on their own, and whenever they expressed a desire to try something, they were usually given a tool and shown how. Sometimes they'd find their own tool and try to copy someone. If they really showed an aptitude or desire, child-size versions might be made for them, but they weren't toys so much as smaller-size fully functional tools.
The exception was dolls; it was not easy to create a small-size fully functional baby. Both girls and boys were given replicas of humans of various sizes and shapes when they were young, if they wanted them. In addition, real babies were often cared for by only slightly older siblings, usually under the watchful eye of an adult.
Community activities always included children. They were all encouraged to join in on the dancing and singing that were a part of various festivals, and some became quite good and were encouraged. Mental concepts like counting words were usually picked up incidentally, through storytelling, games, and conversation, although one or more of the zelandonia would occasionally take a group of children off to explain or show some particular concept or activity.
'Usually I go riding with Jondy,' Jonayla said. 'Can he come, too?'
Ayla hesitated a moment. 'I suppose, if he wants to.'
'Where is Jondy?' Jonayla said, looking around, suddenly realising he wasn't there.
'I don't know,' Ayla said.
'He was always here when I went to bed before. I'm glad you're here, mother, but I like it better when you're both here,' Jonayla said.
The thought echoed through Ayla's mind. Yes, so do I, but he wanted to be with Marona.
When Ayla woke the next morning, it took her a few moments to recognise where she was. The inside of the structure was familiar; she had slept in similar ones often. Then it came to her. She was at the Summer Meeting. She glanced toward the place where her daughter usually slept. Jonayla was already gone. The child usually awoke suddenly, and was up and out of bed the next instant. Ayla smiled and looked beside her at Jondalar's place. He wasn't there, and it was obvious he had stayed away all night. Suddenly it all came crashing down on her again. Thinking where he might have been made the hot sting of tears rise and threaten to overflow.
Ayla had learned most of the customs of her adopted people, and had heard stories and legends that helped to explain them, but she wasn't born into the culture, and appropriate behaviour wasn't bred into her bones. She knew the general attitude about jealousy, but primarily in reference to Jondalar's lack of control as a youth. She felt that she had to demonstrate her ability to manage her emotions.
Her experience in the cave had been such a physically and emotionally wrenching ordeal, she was not thinking clearly. She was afraid to turn to anyone for help, afraid it would show that, like Jondalar, she could not control herself. But she was so devastated that, unconsciously, she wanted to strike out, make him feel her pain. She hurt, and she wanted to hurt back, make him sorry. She even considered going back into the cave and begging the Mother to take her, just to make Jondalar sorry.
She forced back her tears. I will not cry, she thought. She had learned to control her tears long ago, when she lived with the Clan. No one will know how I feel, she thought. I will act as though nothing happened. I will visit friends, I will join in the activities, I will meet with the other Acolytes, I will do everything I'm supposed to.
Ayla lay awake, gathering courage to get up and face the day. I will have to talk to Zelandoni and tell her what happened in the cave. It will not be easy to keep anything from her. She always knows. But I can't let her know. I can't tell her that I know how jealousy feels.
Everyone who shared the tent with them knew something had happened between Ayla and Jondalar, and most had a fair idea what it was. For all that he thought he was being discreet, everyone knew about Marona and him — Marona enjoyed flaunting it too much. They had been glad to see Ayla come so things could get back to normal. But when Ayla stayed away all afternoon, a dishevelled Marona tried to sneak back a different way, then packed up all her things and left, and Jondalar returned conspicuously disturbed and didn't come back that night to sleep, it wasn't hard to draw conclusions.
When Ayla finally got up, several people were sitting around a fire outside having a morning meal. It was still early, earlier than she thought. Ayla joined them.
'Proleva, do you know where Jonayla is? I promised her I'd go riding with her today, but I have to talk to Zelandoni first,' Ayla said.
Proleva studied her closely. She was handling it much better today; someone who didn't know her might not realise anything was wrong, but Proleva knew her better than most.
'Jonayla went to Levela's again. She's been spending a lot of time there, and Levela loves it. That little sister of mine has loved having a camp full of children around since she was born, I think,' Proleva said. 'Zelandoni did ask me to tell you that she wants to see you as soon as you can. She said she'll be available all morning.'
'I'll go after I eat, but I think I'll stop off and greet Marsheval and Levela on my way,' Ayla said.
'They'd like that,' Proleva said.
As Ayla approached the campsite, she heard childish voices raised in a squabble. 'So you won. I don't care,' Jonayla shouted at a boy somewhat bigger than her. 'You can win all you want, you can take it all, but you can't have a baby, Bokovan. When I grow up I'm going to have lots of babies, but you can't have any at all. So there!'
Jonayla stood facing the boy, overpowering him in spite of his greater size. The wolf hovered close to the ground, his ears back, looking confused. He didn't know who to protect. Although the boy was bigger, he was younger. He looked hardly more than a baby, but an oversize baby. His chubby short legs were bowed, his body was long in proportion, and his big barrel chest was accentuated by a baby's pot belly. Wolf ran to Ayla when he saw her, and she put her arms around him to calm him down.
Bokovan's shoulders were already much broader than her daughter's, Ayla noticed. He had a big nose on a face that jutted out in the middle, accentuating that nose, and a receding chin. Though his forehead was straight and not sloped, he had a definite bony ridge over his eyes, not huge, but there.
To Ayla there was no question that he had the cast of the Clan, including his dark liquid eyes, but their shape was not quite Clan. Like his mother, he had a slight epicanthic fold, making his eyes seem slanted, and at that moment they were filled with tears. Ayla thought he was an exotically handsome child, though not many others agreed.
The boy ran to Dalanar. 'Dalanah,' he cried, 'Jonayah say I can't ha'wa baby. Tell haw not twue.'
Dalanar picked the boy up and put him on his lap. 'I'm afraid it is true, Bokovan,' Dalanar said. 'Boys can't have babies. Only girls can grow up to have babies. But someday you can mate with a woman and help take care of her babies.'
'But, I wan'na baby, too,' Bokovan said, crying a new sob.
'Jonayla! That was a cruel thing to say,' Ayla reprimanded. 'Come here and say you're sorry to Bokovan. It's not nice to make him cry like that.'
She did feel contrite; she really hadn't meant to make him cry. 'I'm sorry, Bokovan,' Jonayla said.
Ayla almost said that he would help to make babies when he grew up, but thought better of it. She hadn't even spoken to Zelandoni yet, and Bokovan wouldn't understand anyway, but her heart went out to the boy. S
he knelt down in front of him.
'Hello, Bokovan. My name is Ayla and I've been wanting to meet you. Your mother and Echozar are my friends.'
'Can you say hello to Ayla, Bokovan?'
'He'wo, Ayla,' the boy said, then buried his head in Dalanar's shoulder.
'Can I hold him, Dalanar?'
'I'm not sure if he'll let you. He's very shy and not used to people,' Dalanar said.
Ayla held her arms out to the boy. He looked at her in serious contemplation. There was a liquid depth to his dark, slanted eyes, and something more, she felt. He reached out to her and she took the child from the man's arms. He was heavy! Ayla was surprised at his weight. 'You are going to grow up to be a very big man, Bokovan. Do you know that?' Ayla hugged the boy to her.
'I'm really surprised he went to you,' Dalanar said. 'He never takes to strangers like that.'
'How old is he now?' she asked.
'We can count just past three years for him, but he's big for his age. That can be a problem, especially for a boy. People think he's older than he is. I was always tall for my age when I was a youngster. Jondalar was, too,' Dalanar said.
Why did it hurt so much just to hear Jondalar's name, Ayla thought? She must learn to overcome that. After all, if she was going to be Zelandoni now, she needed to show composure. She had been training to control her mind in many ways — why couldn't she control herself now?
Ayla held the boy as she greeted Levela and Marsheval. 'I understand Jonayla has been here quite often. It seems she'd rather be here than any other place. Thank you for looking after her.'
'We're happy to have her,' Levela said. 'She and my girls are good friends, but I'm glad you finally made it here this year. It was getting so late in the season, we didn't know if you were coming.'
'I had planned to come before this, but things came up and I couldn't leave sooner,' Ayla said.
'How's Marthona? Everyone has missed her,' Levela said.
