The Valley of Horses

by Jean M. Auel

  “And it always brings the Malaise,” a young woman added, picking up the thread of Laduni’s story.

  “Malaise?” Thonolan directed his question to her.

  “Evil spirits that fly on the wind. They make everyone irritable. People who never fight suddenly start arguing. Happy people are crying all the time. The spirits can make you sick, or if you are already sick, they can make you want to die. It helps if you know what to expect, but everyone is in a bad mood then.”

  “Where did you learn to speak Zelandonii so well?” Thonolan asked, smiling at the attractive young woman appreciatively.

  The young woman returned Thonolan’s look as frankly, but rather than answering, looked over to Laduni.

  “Thonolan of the Zelandonii, this is Filonia of the Losadunai, and the daughter of my hearth,” Laduni said, quick to understand her unspoken request for a formal introduction. It let Thonolan know she thought well of herself and didn’t converse with strangers without proper introductions, not even handsome exciting strangers on a Journey.

  Thonolan held out his hands in the formal greeting gesture, his eyes appraising and showing approval. She hesitated a moment, as though considering, then put her hands in his. He pulled her closer. “Filonia of the Losadunai, Thonolan of the Zelandonii is honored the Great Earth Mother has favored him with the gift of your presence,” he said with a knowing grin.

  Filonia flushed slightly at the bold innuendo she knew he intended with his allusion to the Gift of the Mother, though his words were as formal as his gesture seemed to be. She felt a tingle of excitement from his touch, and the sparkle of invitation was in her eyes.

  “Now tell me,” Thonolan continued, “where did you learn Zelandonii?”

  “My cousin and I went across the glacier on our Journey and lived for a while with a Zelandonii Cave. Laduni had already taught us some—he talks with us often in your tongue so he won’t forget it. He crosses every few years to trade. He wanted me to learn more.”

  Thonolan still held her hands and smiled at her. “Women don’t often make long and dangerous Journeys. What if Doni had blessed you?”

  “It wasn’t really that long,” she said, pleased with his obvious admiration. “I would have known soon enough to get back.”

  “It was as long a Journey as many men make,” he insisted.

  Jondalar, watching the interplay, turned to Laduni. “He’s done it again,” he said, grinning. “My brother never fails to single out the most attractive woman in sight and have her charmed within the first three heartbeats.”

  Laduni chuckled. “Filonia’s young yet. She only had her Rites of First Pleasures last summer, but she’s had enough admirers since then to turn her head. Ah, to be young again, and new to the Gift of Pleasure from the Great Earth Mother. Not that I don’t enjoy it still, but I’m comfortable with my mate and don’t have the same urge to seek new excitement often.” He turned to the tall blond man. “We’re just a hunting party and don’t have many women with us, but you shouldn’t have any problem finding one of our blessed of Duna willing to share the Gift. If none suits you, we have a large Cave, and visitors are always a reason for a festival to honor the Mother.”

  “I’m afraid we won’t be going with you to your Cave. We’ve just started. Thonolan wants to make a long Journey and is anxious to get moving. Perhaps on our way back, if you’ll give us directions.”

  “I’m sorry you won’t be visiting—we haven’t had many visitors lately. How far do you plan to go?”

  “Thonolan talks about following Donau all the way to the end. But everyone talks about a long Journey when they begin. Who can tell?”

  “I thought the Zelandonii lived close to the Great Water; at least they did when I made my Journey. I traveled a long way west, and then south. Did you say you just started out?”

  “I should explain. You’re right, the Great Water is only a few days from our Cave, but Dalanar of the Lanzadonii was mated to my mother when I was born, and his Cave is like home to me, too. I lived there for three years while he taught me my craft. My brother and I stayed with them. The only distance we’ve traveled since we left is across the glacier, and the couple of days to get there.”

  “Dalanar! Of course! I thought you looked familiar. You must be a child of his spirit; you look so much like him. And a flint knapper, too. If you are as much like him as you look, you must be good. He’s the best I’ve ever seen. I was going to visit him next year to get some flint from the Lanzadonii mine. There is no better stone.”

  People were gathering around the fire with wooden bowls, and the delicious smells coming from that direction made Jondalar conscious of his hunger. He picked up his backframe to move it out of the way, then had a thought. “Laduni, I have some Lanzadonii flint with me. I was going to use it to replace broken tools along the way, but it’s heavy to carry, and I wouldn’t mind unloading a stone or two. I’d be happy to give it to you if you’d like it.”

  Laduni’s eyes lit up. “I’d be happy to take it, but I’d want to give you something in return. I don’t mind getting the better side of a good trade, but I wouldn’t want to cheat the son of Dalanar’s hearth.”

  Jondalar grinned. “You’re already offering to lighten my load and feed me a hot meal.”

  “That’s hardly enough for good Lanzadonii stone. You make it too easy, Jondalar. You hurt my pride.”

  A good-natured crowd was gathering around them, and when Jondalar laughed, they joined in.

  “All right, Laduni, I won’t make it easy. Right now, there’s nothing I want—I’m trying to lighten my load. I’ll ask you for a future claim. Are you willing?”

  “Now he wants to cheat me,” the man said to the crowd, grinning. “At least name it.”

  “How can I name it? But I’ll want to collect it on my way back, agreed?”

  “How do I know I can give it?”

  “I won’t ask what you can’t give.”

  “Your terms are hard, Jondalar, but if I can, I’ll give you whatever you ask. Agreed.”

  Jondalar opened his backframe, took out the things on top, then pulled out his pouch and gave Laduni two nodules of flint already prepared. “Dalanar selected them and did the preliminary work,” he said.

  Laduni’s expression made it obvious he didn’t mind getting two pieces of flint selected and prepared by Dalanar for the son of his hearth, but he mumbled, loud enough for everyone to hear, “I’m probably trading my life for two pieces of stone.” No one made any comment about the probability of Jondalar ever returning to collect.

  “Jondalar, are you going to stand around talking forever?” Thonolan said. “We’ve been asked to share a meal, and that venison smells good.” He had a big grin on his face, and Filonia was by his side.

  “Yes, the food is ready,” she said, “and the hunting has been so good, we haven’t used much of the dried meat we took with us. Now that you’ve lightened your load, you’ll have room to take some with you, won’t you?” she added with a sly smile at Laduni.

  “It would be most welcome. Laduni, you have yet to introduce me to the lovely daughter of your hearth,” Jondalar said.

  “It’s a terrible day when the daughter of your own hearth undermines your trades,” he mumbled, but his smile was full of pride. “Jondalar of the Zelandonii, Filonia of the Losadunai”

  She turned to look at the older brother, and suddenly found herself lost in overwhelmingly vivid blue eyes smiling down at her. She flushed with mixed emotions as she found herself drawn now to the other brother, and bowed her head to hide her confusion.

  “Jondalar! Don’t think I can’t see that gleam in your eyes. Remember, I saw her first,” Thonolan joked. “Come on, Filonia, I’m going to get you away from here. Let me warn you, stay away from that brother of mine. Believe me, you don’t want to have anything to do with him, I know.” He turned to Laduni and said in mock injury, “He does it every time. One look, that’s all it takes. If only I had been born with my brother’s gifts.”


  “You’ve got more gifts than any man needs, Little Brother,” Jondalar said, then laughed his big, lusty, warm laugh.

  Filonia turned back to Thonolan and seemed relieved to find him just as attractive as she had at first. He put his arm around her shoulder and steered her toward the other side of the fire, but she turned her head back to look at the other man. Smiling more confidently, she said, “We always have a festival to honor Duna when visitors come to the Cave.”

  “They won’t be coming to the Cave, Filonia,” Laduni said. The young woman looked disappointed for a moment, then turned to Thonolan and smiled.

  “Ah, to be young again.” Laduni chuckled. “But the women who honor Duna most seem to be blessed more often with young ones. The Great Earth Mother smiles on those who appreciate Her Gifts.”

  Jondalar moved his backframe behind the log, then headed toward the fire. A venison stew was cooking in a pot that was a leather skin supported by a frame of bones lashed together. It was suspended directly over the fire. The boiling liquid, though hot enough to cook the stew, kept the temperature of the cooking container too low to catch fire. The combustion temperature of leather was much hotter than the boiling stew.

  A woman handed him a wooden bowl of the savory broth and sat down beside him on the log. He used his flint knife to spear the chunks of meat and vegetables—dried pieces of roots they had brought—and drank the liquid from the bowl. When he was through, the woman brought him a smaller bowl of herb tea. He smiled at her in thanks. She was a few years older than he, enough to have exchanged the prettiness of youth for the true beauty brought by maturity. She smiled back and sat beside him again.

  “Do you speak Zelandonii?” he asked.

  “Speak little, understand more,” she said.

  “Should I ask Laduni to introduce us, or can I ask your name?”

  She smiled again, with the hint of condescension of the older woman. “Only young girls need someone say name. I, Lanalia. You, Jondalar?”

  “Yes,” he answered. He could feel the warmth of her leg and the excitement it raised showed in his eyes. She returned his gaze with a smoldering look. He moved his hand to her thigh. She leaned closer with a movement that encouraged him and promised experience. He nodded acceptance to her inviting look, though it wasn’t necessary. His eyes returned her invitation. She glanced over his shoulder. Jondalar followed her gaze and saw Laduni coming toward them. She relaxed comfortably beside him. They would wait until later to fulfill the promise.

  Laduni joined them, and shortly after, Thonolan came back to his brother’s side of the fire with Filonia. Soon everyone was crowded around the two visitors. There was joking and banter, translated for those who could not understand. Finally, Jondalar decided to bring up a more serious subject. “Do you know much about the people down the river, Laduni?”

  “We used to get an occasional visitor from the Sarmunai. They live north of the river downstream, but it’s been years. It happens. Sometimes young people all go the same way on their Journeys. Then it becomes well known and not so exciting, so they go another way. After a generation or so, only the old ones remember, and it becomes an adventure to go the first way again. All young people think their discoveries are new. It doesn’t matter if their ancestors did the same thing.”

  “For them it is new,” Jondalar said but didn’t pursue the philosophical lead. He wanted some solid information before he was drawn into a discussion that might be enjoyable, but not immediately practical. “Can you tell me anything about their customs? Do you know any words in their language? Greetings? What should we avoid? What might be offensive?”

  “I don’t know much, and nothing recent. There was a man who went east a few years ago, but he hasn’t returned. Who knows, maybe he decided to settle some other place,” Laduni said. “It’s said they make their dunai out of mud, but that’s just talk. I don’t know why anyone would make sacred images of the Mother out of mud. It would just crumble when it dried.”

  “Maybe because it’s closer to the earth. Some people like stone for that reason.”

  As he spoke, Jondalar unconsciously reached into the pouch attached to his belt and felt for the small stone figurine of an obese female. He felt the familiar huge breasts, her large protruding stomach, and her more than ample buttocks and thighs. The arms and legs were insignificant, it was the Mother aspects that were important, and the limbs on the stone figure were only suggested. The head was a knob with a suggestion of hair that carried across the face, with no features.

  No one could look at the awesome face of Doni, the Great Earth Mother, Ancient Ancestress, First Mother, Creator and Sustainer of all life, She who blessed all women with Her power to create and bring forth life. And none of the small images of Her that carried Her Spirit, the donii, ever dared to suggest Her face. Even when She revealed Herself in dreams, Her face was usually unclear, though men often saw Her with a young and nubile body. Some women claimed they could take Her spirit form and fly like the wind to bring luck or wreak vengeance, and Her vengeance could be great.

  If She was angered or dishonored, She was capable of many fearful deeds, but the most threatening was to withhold Her wondrous Gift of Pleasure that came when a woman chose to open herself to a man. The Great Mother and, it was claimed, some of Those Who Served Her could give a man the power to share Her Gift with as many women as he desired as often as he wished, or make him shrivel up so that he could bring Pleasure to none, nor find any himself.

  Jondalar absentmindedly caressed the pendulous stone breasts of the donii in his pouch, wishing for luck as he thought about their Journey. It was true that some never returned, but that was part of the adventure. Then Thonolan asked Laduni a question that snapped him back to attention.

  “What do you know about the flatheads around here? We ran into a pack a few days ago. I was sure we were going to end our Journey right there.” Suddenly Thonolan had everyone’s attention.

  “What happened?” Laduni asked, tension in his voice. Thonolan related the incident they had had with the flatheads.

  “Charoli!” Laduni spat.

  “Who is Charoli?” Jondalar asked.

  “A young man from Tomasi’s Cave, and the instigator of a gang of ruffians who have taken it into their heads to make sport of the flatheads. We never had any trouble with them. They stayed on their side of the river; we stayed on ours. If we did cross over, they kept out of the way, unless we stayed too long. Then all they did was make it obvious they were watching. That was enough. It makes you nervous to have a bunch of flatheads staring at you.”

  “That’s for sure!” Thonolan said. “But what do you mean, make sport of the flatheads? I wouldn’t invite trouble from them.”

  “It all started as high spirits. One would dare the other to run up and touch a flathead. They can be pretty fierce if you annoy them. Then the young men started ganging up on any flathead they found alone—circle around and tease him, try to get him to chase after them. Flatheads have a lot of wind, but they have short legs. A man can usually outrun one, but he’d better keep going. I’m not sure how it started, but next Charoli’s gang were beating up on them I suspect one of those flatheads they were teasing caught someone, and the rest jumped in to defend their friend. Anyway, they started making a practice of it, but even with several against one flathead, they didn’t get away without some good bruises.”

  “I can believe that,” Thonolan said.

  “What they did next was even worse,” Filonia added.

  “Filonia! It’s disgusting! I won’t have you talking about it!” Laduni said, and his anger was real

  “What did they do?” Jondalar asked. “If we’re going to be traveling through flathead territory, we ought to know.”

  “I suppose you’re right, Jondalar. I just don’t like talking about it in front of Filonia.”

  “I’m a grown woman,” she asserted, but her tone lacked conviction.

  He looked at her, considering, then seemed to come to a decision. �
��The males started coming out only in pairs or groups, and that was too much for Charoli’s gang. So they started trying to tease the females. But flathead females don’t fight. There’s no sport in picking on them, they just cower and run away. So his gang decided to use them for a different kind of sport. I don’t know who dared who first—probably Charoli goaded them on. It’s the kind of thing he’d do.”

  “Goaded them to do what?” Jondalar asked.

  “They started forcing flathead females …” Laduni could not finish. He jumped up, more than angry. He was enraged. “It’s an abomination! It dishonors the Mother, abuses Her Gift. Animals! Worse than animals! Worse than flatheads!”

  “Do you mean they took their Pleasure with a flathead female? Forced? A flathead female?” Thonolan said.

  “They bragged about it!” Filonia said. “I wouldn’t let a man near me who took his Pleasure with a flathead.”

  “Filonia! You will not discuss such things! I will not have such filthy, disgusting language coming out of your mouth!” Laduni said. He was past rage; his eyes were hard as stone.

  “Yes, Laduni,” she said, bowing her head in shame.

  “I wonder how they feel about it,” Jondalar commented. “That might be why the young one went for me. I’d guess they’d be angry. I’ve heard some people say they could be human—and if they are …”

  “I’ve heard that kind of talk!” Laduni said, still trying to calm himself. “Don’t believe it!”

  “The leader of that pack we ran into was smart, and they walk on their legs just like we do.”

  “Bears walk on their hind legs sometimes, too. Flatheads are animals! Intelligent animals, but animals.” Laduni struggled to get himself under control, aware that the whole group was uncomfortable. “They’re usually harmless unless you bother them,” he continued. “I don’t think it’s the females—I doubt if they understand how it dishonors the Mother. It’s all the baiting and beating up. If animals are annoyed enough, they’ll strike out.”