The Land of Painted Caves

by Jean M. Auel

  “And I am pleased to know you,” Ayla said. “Perhaps someday we can visit you.”

  “You would be welcome, both of you,” the Zelandoni said, looking at the First.

  The big woman smiled, but wondered how much longer she’d be able to make Journeys, especially long ones, and doubted that she would be the one to make a return visit. “You have brought some interesting new ideas that I am pleased to learn about, and I thank you for them,” the large woman said.

  “I have been very pleased to learn of your medicines,” Ayla added.

  “I have learned much, as well. I am especially grateful to know about the way to dissuade the Mother from Blessing a woman. There are those women who just should not bear another child, for her health and the sake of her family,” the Zelandoni said.

  “It was Ayla who brought that knowledge,” the First admitted.

  “Then I have something I would like to give to her in return, and to you, First Among Those Who Serve The Mother. I have a mixture that has some remarkable qualities. I think I will leave it with you to try out,” the Southern Twenty-fourth said. “I hadn’t planned to, I have only one pouch of it with me, but I can make up more when I get back.”

  She opened her traveling pack, took out her distinctive medicine box and removed a small pouch from it. She held it out. “I think you will find this quite interesting and perhaps useful.” The First indicated that she should give it to Ayla. “It’s very powerful. Be careful when you experiment with it,” she said as she handed it to the younger woman.

  “Do you prepare it as a decoction or infusion?” Ayla asked.

  “It depends what you want,” the woman said. “Each preparation gives it different properties. Later I’ll show you what’s in it, though I suspect you may have worked it out yourself by then.”

  Ayla couldn’t wait to find out what was in it. She examined the pouch. It was made of soft leather and tied with a cord that she thought was made from the long hairs of the tail of a horse. She undid some interesting knots in the cord, which had been threaded through holes cut around the top of the soft leather pouch, and opened it. “One ingredient is certain,” she said as she sniffed the contents. “Mint!” The scent also reminded her of the strong tea they had tried when they were visiting another one of the Southern Zelandonii. Ayla retied it with her own knots.

  The woman smiled. Mint was the scent she used to distinguish this particular mixture, but it was far more powerful than that innocuous herb. She hoped she would still be here when someone began to experiment with it. That would be a test of the skill and knowledge of the northern zelandonia, she thought.

  Ayla smiled at Zelandoni. “I may have another one on the way.” They had been talking about children, though it was the First who had brought it up, she realized.

  “I wondered about that. You didn’t look like you were getting fat, like me—I doubt that you ever will—but you seem to be filling out in places. How many moontimes have you missed?”

  “Just one. My moontime was due a few days ago. And though I’m not really getting sick, I feel a little nauseous in the morning sometimes,” Ayla said.

  “If I were to make a guess, I’d say you are going to have another baby. Are you happy about it?” Zelandoni asked.

  “Oh, yes. I want another, although I hardly have time to take care of the one I have. I’m just glad Jondalar is so good with Jonayla.”

  “Have you told him yet?”

  “No. It’s too soon, I think. You never know—things can happen. I know he would like another child at his hearth. I wouldn’t want him to get excited only to be disappointed. And it’s a long enough wait even after you start showing—no reason to make him wait so long.” Ayla thought about the night she came down from the cliff early, and how good it had been for both of them. Then she recalled the first time she had shared Pleasures with Jondalar. She laughed quietly, to herself.

  “What’s funny?” Zelandoni asked.

  “I was just thinking about the first time Jondalar showed me the Gift of Pleasure, back in my valley. Until then, I didn’t know it was supposed to be a Pleasure, or even that it could be. I could hardly communicate with him then. He had been teaching me to speak Zelandonii, but so much of his language, and most of his ways, were completely strange to me. As a mother was supposed to, Iza had explained how a woman of the Clan uses a certain signal to encourage a man, though I don’t think she thought I’d ever really need it.

  “I’d been making the signal to Jondalar, but it didn’t mean anything to him. Later he showed me Pleasures again, because he wanted to, not because I did, and I kept thinking he would never understand my signals, when I wanted him again. I finally asked to speak to him the way the women of the Clan do. He didn’t understand what I wanted when I sat down in front of him and bowed my head, waiting for him to tell me I could speak. Finally I just tried to tell him. When he understood the gist of it, he thought I wanted him to do it right away, and we had just finished. He said something like he didn’t know if he could, but he would try. As it turned out, he didn’t have any problem,” Ayla said, smiling at her own innocence.

  Zelandoni smiled, too. “He always was an obliging fellow,” she said.

  “I loved him the first time I saw him, before I even knew him, but he was so good to me, Zelandoni, especially when he showed me the Mother’s Gift of Pleasures. I asked him once how he could know things about me that I didn’t know about myself. He finally admitted that someone had taught him, an older woman, but I could tell he was greatly troubled. He really loved you, you know,” Ayla said. “He still does, in his way.”

  “I loved him, too, and I still do, in my way. But I don’t think he ever loved me the way he loves you.”

  “But I’ve been gone so much, especially at night. I’m surprised that I’m pregnant.”

  “Maybe you are wrong about his essence mixing with yours inside you, Ayla. Maybe new life is started by the Great Mother choosing a man’s spirit and blending it with yours,” Zelandoni said, with a wry smile.

  “No. I think I know when this one was started.” Ayla smiled. “I came home early one night, I just couldn’t concentrate, and I forgot to make my special tea. Now, I’m starting to love rain, especially at night, when I have to come in because I can’t see anything anyway. I’ll be glad when this watching year is over.” The young woman studied her mentor, then asked the question she had wanted to ask. “You said you had thought about mating. Why didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I almost did mate once, but he was killed in a hunting accident. After he died, I buried myself in the training. No one else ever made me want to mate … except Jondalar. There was a time when I did consider him—he was so insistent, and he can be very persuasive—but you know it was forbidden. I was his donii-woman and, besides, he was so young. We would probably have had to move away from the Ninth Cave, and it might have been hard to find a place. I felt that it would be unfair to him; his family has always been important to him. It was hard enough for him to go to live with Dalanar,” the Donier said. “And I didn’t want to leave, either. Did you know I was selected for the zelandonia and started my training before I was a woman? I’m not sure when I finally realized that the zelandonia was more important to me than mating. And it’s just as well. I have never been Blessed by Doni. I’m afraid I would have been a childless mate.”

  “I know the Second had children, but I don’t think I have ever seen a zelandoni who was pregnant,” Ayla said.

  “Some become pregnant,” Zelandoni said. “They usually arrange to lose it in the first few moons, before they get very big. Some will carry a child full term, then give it to another woman to raise, often a barren woman who desperately wants a child. The mated ones usually keep the child, but few Zelandonia women are mated. It’s easier for the men. They can leave most of the child care to their mates. You know how difficult it can be. The demands of a mated woman, especially if she becomes a mother, often conflict with the needs of the zelandonia.”

>   “Yes, I know,” Ayla said.

  All the people of the Ninth Cave were in a state of excited anticipation. They would be leaving for the Summer Meeting the next day and everyone was busily packing in the final rush of getting ready to leave. Ayla was helping Jondalar and Jonayla pack, deciding what to leave behind, what to take, and where to pack it, partly because she wanted to spend more time with them. Marthona was with them, too. This was the first time that she would not be going with her Cave to a Summer Meeting; she couldn’t walk very far anymore. She wanted to be around when they packed so she wouldn’t feel entirely left out. Ayla wished she didn’t have to stay back from the Meeting, but she was worried about Marthona and was glad she would be there to look after her.

  Her mind was as alert as ever, but the woman’s health was failing, and she was so crippled with arthritis, sometimes she could hardly walk or even work on her loom. I can go later, after the Summer Longday, Ayla thought. She loved the woman as both a friend and a mother, and enjoyed her thoughtful wisdom and not-always-so-gentle wit. It would be a good opportunity to spend more time with her. Ayla thought of it as compensation for missing the Summer Meeting, even part of it. She resolved to find ways to be with her family more often when they got back, but if she didn’t finish her project of Marking the Moon and Sun this year, she would have to start all over again another year, and she had only until a little past the Summer Longday to go. She had returned early last year to start on the project.

  The most difficult time to make a record had been during the winter. Some days it was so stormy it was impossible to see the sun or the moon, but it had been clear during the Winter Shortday and both the Fall Sameday and the Spring Sameday, which was a good sign. Zelandoni had helped her with the Fall Sameday. They had both stayed awake more than a day and night, using special wicks in a sacred lamp to determine that sunup to sundown was the same length as the following sundown to sunup. Ayla had done it the following Spring Sameday, with Zelandoni overseeing her. Since she had been fortunate enough to see the most important moments during the cold seasons, she didn’t want to give it up now.

  “Sometimes I wish we didn’t have the horses and their pole-drags,” Jondalar said. “It would actually be easier if all we had to worry about was what we could carry on our backs. Then we wouldn’t have all our friends and relatives asking if we could just take a few things. All those few things can make a big load.”

  “You won’t have Whinney this year, so you have to tell people that you don’t have as much room,” Ayla said.

  “I have told them, but all they can see is the ‘little’ space their things would take, and surely with two horses, there must be enough room,” Jondalar said.

  “Just tell them no, Jondy,” Jonayla said. “That’s what I tell anyone who asks me.”

  “That’s a good idea, Jonayla,” said Marthona, “but didn’t you ask to pack some things for Sethona?”

  “But, grandam, she’s my close cousin, and my best friend,” Jonayla said, sounding a little indignant.

  “Everyone in the Ninth Cave has become my ‘best friend’ or would like to think so,” Jondalar said. “It’s not so easy saying no. Sometimes I may want to ask a favor of someone, but what he’ll remember is that I said no when all he wanted was to have a few of his things carried by one of the horses.”

  “If the things aren’t all that much, why can’t they carry them themselves?” Jonayla asked.

  “That’s just the point. They’re not always so little. It’s usually the bulky and the heavy things they want carried, things they probably wouldn’t even take if they had to carry them by themselves,” Jondalar said.

  The next morning, Ayla accompanied the Ninth Cave part of the way, riding Whinney. “When do you think you’ll be able to join us?” Jondalar asked.

  “Sometime after the Summer Longday, but I’m not sure how long,” Ayla said. “I am a little worried about Marthona. It may depend on how she feels, and who has come back to help her. When do you think Willamar will return?”

  “It depends on where people have decided to hold their Summer Meetings. He hasn’t made many long trips since your Donier Tour but he planned a longer than usual trip this year. He said he wanted to visit as many people as he could, both outlying Zelandonii and others. Several people went with him, and he was going to pick up a few more from other Caves along the way. This may be his last long trading circuit,” Jondalar said.

  “I thought that’s what he said when he came along on my Donier Tour,” Ayla said.

  “He’s been saying that every year for some time.”

  “I think he’s finally going to name a new Trade Master, and he can’t decide which one of his apprentices to choose. He’s going to be observing them on this trip,” Jondalar said.

  “I think he should name both of them.”

  “I’ll try to come back for a visit, but I’m going to be busy. I need to make arrangements to enlarge our place so Marthona and Willamar can move in with us in the fall.”

  Ayla turned to her daughter, and they embraced. “Be good, Jonayla. Mind Jondalar, and help Proleva,” she said.

  “I will, mother. I wish you were coming with us.”

  “I wish I were, too, Jonayla. I’m going to miss you,” Ayla said.

  She and Jondalar kissed, and she clung to him for a moment. “I’ll miss you, too, Jondalar. I will even miss Racer and Gray.” She gave each horse farewell strokes and a hug around the neck. “And I’m sure Whinney will, and Wolf, too.”

  Jonayla patted Whinney and scratched a favorite place, then bent down and gave Wolf a big hug. The animal wriggled with pleasure, and licked her face. “Can’t we take Wolf with us, mother? I’m going to miss him so much,” Jonayla asked, trying one last time.

  “Then I would miss him, Jonayla. No, I think it’s best if he stays here. You’ll see him later in the summer,” Ayla said.

  Jondalar picked up Jonayla and put her on Gray. She could count six years now, and could mount the horse herself, if there was a stone or a stump nearby, but she still needed help out in the open. Jondalar mounted Racer, and taking Gray’s lead rope, they quickly caught up with the rest. Ayla could not stop the tears as she stood with Whinney and Wolf watching Jondalar and Jonayla riding away from her.

  Finally Ayla leapt up on the back of her dun-yellow mare. She rode partway, back toward home, then stopped and turned to look again at the departing Ninth Cave. They were moving along at a steady pace, strung out in a ragged line. At the rear she saw Jonayla and Jondalar on their horses, pulling the pole-drags.

  The Summer Meeting was being held at the same place it had been held when Ayla first came. She had liked that location and hoped that Joharran would select the same site that the Ninth Cave had used for their camp when they were there before, if no one else had taken it. Joharran had always liked being in the thick of things, and the campsite was somewhat away from the major activities, but in the past few years, he had begun to select campsites that were closer to the edge so the horses wouldn’t be surrounded by people. And he was learning to like having the space to spread out. If he chose the old campsite, there was plenty of room for their much larger than usual Cave to spread out, and a good place for the horses as well. And she could close her eyes and imagine them there. Ayla watched the people leaving for some time, then turned Whinney, signaled Wolf, and went back to the Ninth Cave.

  Ayla hadn’t known how lonely the huge abri could be with so many people gone, even though some people from the nearby Caves had come to stay there. Most of the dwellings were closed up, and the abri had a deserted look. Tools and equipment from the large work area had been dismantled and taken along or put away, leaving empty spaces. Marthona’s loom was one of the few remaining pieces of apparatus.

  Ayla had asked Marthona to move in with them. She wanted to be nearby if Jondalar’s mother needed help, especially at night, and the woman was quick to agree. Since she and Willamar were already planning to move in with them in the fall, it gave M
arthona a chance to select which things she wanted to keep and which to give away; she couldn’t move them all over to the smaller accommodations. They talked long together, and Marthona discovered a reason for happiness when she learned that Ayla was pregnant again.

  Most of the people left behind were old or incapacitated in some way. Among them was a hunter with a broken leg, another recovering from a goring he suffered at the horns of an aurochs bull that had turned on him suddenly, and a pregnant woman who had already miscarried three times and been told that she had to stay off her feet if she ever expected to carry a baby full term. Her mother and her mate were staying with her.

  “I am glad you are going to be here this summer, Ayla,” Jeviva, the pregnant woman’s mother, said. “Jeralda held her last one almost six moons, until Madroman came around. He told her to exercise. I think the reason she lost it was his fault. At least you know something about pregnancy—you’ve had a child of your own.”

  Ayla looked at Marthona, wondering if she knew anything about Madroman treating Jeralda. She hadn’t heard anything. He had moved back to the Ninth Cave last year and brought many of his things with him as if he planned to stay for a while; then just a Moon or so ago, he left abruptly. A runner from another Cave had come to ask Ayla for help for someone who had broken his arm; her skill with fixing bones had spread wide. She stayed several days and when she returned, Madroman was gone.

  “How far along is Jeralda now?” Ayla asked.

  “Her moontimes were not regular and she was spotting blood so we weren’t paying much attention and aren’t sure when this life started. I think she’s bigger than she was when she lost the last one, but maybe I’m just wishing,” Jeviva said.

  “I’ll come by tomorrow and examine her, and see what I can find out, though I don’t know if I’ll be able to tell much. Did Zelandoni say anything about why she lost her first three?” Ayla asked.

  “All she said is that Jeralda has a slippery womb and tends to drop them too easily. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with the last one, except that he was born too soon. He was alive when he was born and lived a day or so, then just stopped breathing.” The woman turned her head aside and wiped away a tear.