The Shelters of Stone

by Jean M. Auel

  “Well, now I know why someone would want to ride on the back of a horse,” Denoda said. “If I were younger, I’d like to try it.”

  “How do you have so much control over this animal?” Mardena said. “Is it some kind of magic?”

  “No, not at all, Mardena. Anyone could do it, with practice.”

  “What made you decide to ride on a horse? How did you start?” Denoda asked.

  “I killed Whinney’s dam, for food, and only later discovered she was nursing a young filly,” Ayla began. “When hyenas came after the foal, I couldn’t stand to let them take her—I hate those filthy animals—so I chased them away, and then realized I would have to take care of her.” She told them about saving the baby horse from hyenas and then raising her, and that because she had, they grew to know each other well. “One day I got up on her back, and when she started running, I held on. It was all I could do. When she finally slowed down and I got off, I could hardly believe what I had done. It was like flying with the wind in my face. I couldn’t help doing it again, and though at first I had no control, after a while I learned how to direct her. She goes where I want because she wants to. She’s my friend, and I think it pleases her to let me ride.”

  “Still, it was an unusual thing to do. Didn’t anyone object?” Mardena said.

  “There was no one to object. I was alone then,” Ayla said.

  “I would have been afraid to live alone, with no other people,” Mardena said. She was full of curiosity and wanted to ask more questions, but before she had the chance, they heard a call and turned to see Jondalar coming.

  “They’re here!” he said. “Dalanar and the Lanzadonii have arrived!”

  “Wonderful!” Folara said. “I can hardly wait to see them.”

  Ayla smiled with delight. “I am also anxious to see them.” She turned back to her visitors. “We have to go back to camp. The man of Jondalar’s hearth has arrived, in time for our Matrimonial.”

  Of course,” Mardena said. “We’ll go right away.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t mind greeting Dalanar before we leave, Mardena,” Denoda said. “I used to know him.”

  “You should,” Jondalar said. “I’m sure he’d be glad to see you.”

  “And before you go, I need to ask you if you will allow Lanidar to come and check on the horses for me when I’m busy, Mardena,” Ayla said. “He doesn’t have to do anything except make sure they are all right, and come and get me if he notices anything wrong. I would appreciate it very much. It would be such a relief if I didn’t have to worry about them.”

  When they turned to look, the boy was petting the young stallion and feeding him pieces of wild carrot.

  “I think you can see they won’t hurt him,” Ayla said.

  “Well, I suppose he could,” Mardena said.

  Oh, mother, thank you!” Lanidar said, gririning. Mardena had never seen such a pleased and happy expression on his face.

  28

  Where’s that boy of yours, Marthona? The one that everyone says looks just like me … well, perhaps a little younger,” said the tall man with long blond hair tied in a club in back. He held out both hands and smiled warmly in greeting. They knew each other too well for much formality.

  “When he saw you coming, he ran to get Ayla,” Marthona said, taking his hands in hers and leaning forward to rub cheeks. He may be getting older, she thought, but he’s still handsome and as charming as ever. “They’ll be here soon, Dalanar, you can be sure. He’s been watching for you since we got here.”

  “And where’s Willamar? I was very sorry to hear about Thonolan. I liked that young man. I want to express my sadness to you both,” he said.

  “Thank you, Dalanar,” Marthona said.” Willamar is at the main camp, talking to some people about a trading mission. The news about Thonolan was especially hard on him. He always believed the son of his hearth would return. In all honesty, I doubted that either one of them would. When I first saw Jondalar, for a moment I thought it was you. I could hardly believe my son had come home. And what surprises he’s brought back, not the least of which is Ayla and her animals.”

  “Yes, they are a shock You knew they stopped off to visit on their way here?” said the woman at his side.

  Marthona turned to the woman. Dalanar’s mate was the most unusual person Marthona, or any of the Zelandonii, had ever seen. She was tiny, especially in comparison with her mate—if he held his arm out, she could walk beneath it without bending. Her straight long hair pulled back in a bun was as glossy and black as a raven’s wing, though streaks of gray lightened the sides, but the most arresting aspect was her face. It was round with a little snub of a nose, high wide cheekbones, and dark eyes that appeared slanted because of the epicanthic fold of her eyelids. Her skin was fair, perhaps a shade darker than her mate’s, though as the summer progressed both their faces would darken from the sun.

  “Yes, they told us you planned to come to the Summer Meeting,” Marthona said after she had greeted the woman. “I understand Joplaya will be mated, too. You’ve arrived just in time, Jerika. All the women who are mating, along with their mothers, are supposed to meet with the zelandonia this afternoon. I am going with Ayla, since her own mother isn’t here to go. If you are not too tired, you and Joplaya should come.”

  “I think we can make it, Marthona,” Jerika said. “Do we have time to put up our lodges first?”

  “I don’t see why not. Everyone will help,” Joharran said, “if you don’t mind setting up here, next to us.”

  “And you won’t have to do any cooking. We had guests for a morning meal, and have plenty left over,” Proleva said.

  “We’ll be glad to camp beside the Ninth Cave,” Dalanar said, “but what made you decide to pick this place? You usually like to be in the thick of things, Joharran.”

  “By the time we arrived, all the best places in the main camp were taken, especially for a Cave as big as ours, and we didn’t want to be crowded. We looked around and found this, and I like it better,” Joharran said. “See those trees? That’s just the beginning of a good-size grove with plenty of firewood. This creek starts up there, too, in a clear spring. Long after everyone else’s water is muddy and churned up, we’ll still have good water, and there’s a nice pool. Jondalar and Ayla like it here, too, there’s space for the horses. We made a place for them upstream. That’s where Ayla went, with her guests. She’s the one who invited them.”

  “Who are they?” Dalanar asked. He couldn’t help but be curious about whom Ayla would invite.

  “Do you remember that woman from the Nineteenth Cave who gave birth to the boy with the deformed arm? Mardena? Her mother is Denoda,” Marthona said.

  “Yes, I do,” Dalanar said.

  “The boy, Lanidar, can now count almost twelve years,” she said. “I’m still not sure how it came about, but I think he came up here to get away from all the people and probably some teasing from the other boys. I guess someone told him there were horses here. Everyone is interested in them, of course, and the boy is no exception. Somehow Ayla met him and decided to ask him to keep an eye on the horses for her. She’s concerned that with all the people here, someone, not realizing how special they are, might try to hunt them. It would be easy, they don’t run away.”

  “That’s true,” Dalanar said. “Too bad we can’t make all animals that docile.”

  “Ayla didn’t think that the boy’s mother might object, but it seems she’s very protective,” Marthona said. “She won’t even let him learn to hunt, or doesn’t think he can. So Ayla invited the boy and his mother and grandmother here to see the horses to try to convince her that they won’t hurt him. And only one good arm or not, she’s also decided that she’s going to teach him to use Jondalar’s new spear-thrower,” she said.

  “She does have a mind of her own,” Jerika said. “I noticed that, but she’s not unkind.”

  “No, she’s not, and she’s not afraid to stand up for herself, or to speak up for others,” Proleva said.r />
  “Here they come,” Joharran said.

  They saw a group of people, and a wolf, coming toward them, Jondalar in the lead, his sister close behind. They had all been walking at the pace of the slowest, but when he saw Dalanar and the others, Jondalar rushed ahead. The man of his hearth came toward him. They grabbed hands, then let go and hugged each other. The older man put his arm around the shoulders of the younger man as they walked back, side by side.

  The similarity between the two men was uncanny; they could have been the same man at two different stages of his life. The older one was a tad thicker at the waist, his hair a little thinner on top, but the face was the same, though the brow of the younger was not as deeply etched, and the jowls of the older were getting soft. They matched each other in height, walked with the same step, and moved the same way; even their eyes were the same vivid shade of glacier blue.

  “There is no doubt which man’s spirit was chosen when the Mother created him,” Mardena said quietly to her mother, nodding her head at Jondalar as the visitors neared the camp. Lanidar saw Lanoga and went to talk to her.

  “Dalanar looked just like him when he was young, and he hasn’t changed much,” Denoda said. “He’s still a most handsome man.”

  Mardena was watching with great interest as Ayla and Wolf were greeted by the new arrivals. It was obvious they all knew each other, but she couldn’t help but stare at some of the people. The black-haired, tiny woman with the strange face seemed to be with the tall, blond older man who resembled Jondalar, perhaps as his mate.

  “How do you know him, mother?” Mardena said.

  “He was the man at my First Rites,” Denoda said. “Afterward, I begged the Mother to bless me with the spirit of his child.”

  “Mother! You know that’s too soon for a woman to have a baby,” Mardena said.

  “I didn’t care,” Denoda said. “I knew that sometimes a young woman got pregnant soon after First Rites, when she was finally a full woman and able to take in a man’s spirit. I hoped it would make him pay more attention to me if he thought I was carrying a child of his spirit.”

  “You know a man is not allowed to get close to a woman he opens for at least a year after First Rites, mother.” Mardena was almost shocked at her mother’s confession. She had never talked like that to her before.

  “I know, and he never tried to, though he didn’t avoid me and was always kind when we saw each other, but I wanted more than that. For a long time, I couldn’t think of anyone but him,” Denoda said. “Then I met the man of your hearth. My greatest sorrow in life was that he died so young. I would have liked more children, but the Mother chose not to give me more, and it was probably for the best. Taking care of you by myself was hard enough. I didn’t even have a mother to assist me, although some women from the Cave helped out when you were young.”

  “Why didn’t you find another man to mate?” Mardena asked.

  “Why didn’t you?” her mother countered.

  “You know why. I had Lanidar, who would be interested in me?”

  “Don’t blame it on Lanidar. That’s what you always say, but you never tried, Mardena. You didn’t want to get hurt again. It’s still not too late,” the older woman said.

  They didn’t notice the man approaching. “When Marthona told me the Ninth Cave had visitors this morning, I thought the name was familiar. How are you, Denoda?” Dalanar said, taking both her hands in his and leaning forward to rub cheeks as though she were a close friend.

  Mardena saw a little color rise to her mother’s face as she smiled at the tall, handsome man, and noticed that she seemed to hold her body differently. There was a womanly, sensual quality about her. Suddenly she was seeing her mother in a new light. Just because she was a grandmother didn’t mean she was really so old. There were probably men who would find her attractive.

  “This is my daughter, Mardena of the Nineteenth Cave of the Zelandonii,” Denoda said, “and my grandson is around here someplace.”

  He offered his hands to the younger woman. She took them and looked up at him. “Greetings, Mardena of the Nineteenth Cave of the Zelandonii, Daughter of Denoda of the Nineteenth Cave. It is my pleasure to meet you. I am Dalanar, Leader of the First Cave of the Lanzadonii. In the name of the Great Earth Mother, Doni, please know that you are welcome to visit our camp anytime. And our Cave, too, for that matter.”

  Mardena was flustered at the warmth of his greeting. Though he was more than old enough to be the man of her hearth, she found herself drawn to him. She even thought she heard a certain emphasis on the word “pleasure” that made her think of the Mother’s Gift of Pleasure. She never felt so overwhelmed by a man before.

  Dalanar glanced around and saw a tall young woman. “Joplaya,” he called, then turned and spoke to Denoda. “I’d like you to meet the daughter of my hearth,” he said.

  Mardena was astonished by the young woman who approached. She was not as completely foreign looking as the tiny woman, though there was a resemblance, which made her almost more unusual. Her hair was nearly as dark, but with lively highlights. Her cheekbones were high, but her face was neither as round nor as flat as the other woman’s. Her nose resembled the man’s, but was more delicate, and her black eyebrows were smooth and finely arched. Thick black lashes outlined eyes that were quite different from her mother’s, though they were similar in shape, if not in color. Joplaya’s eyes were as distinctly colored as the vivid blue eyes of the man beside her, but hers were a brilliant shade of green.

  Mardena hadn’t gone to the Summer Meeting when Dalanar’s Cave came the last time. The man of her hearth had recently left, and she didn’t want to face people. She had heard of Joplaya but hadn’t met her. Now that she had, she felt a compelling urge to stare and struggled to control it. Joplaya was an exotically beautiful woman.

  After Dalanar introduced Joplaya and greetings were exchanged, along with a few pleasantries, they left to talk to someone else. Mardena was still feeling the warmth of Dalanar’s presence and began to understand why her mother had been so captivated by him. If he had been the man at her First Rites, she might have been as entranced. But his daughter, while unusually lovely, had an air of melancholy about her, a despondency that belied the joy of an impending mating. Mardena couldn’t understand why someone who ought to be happy could seem so sad.

  “We need to go, Mardena,” Denoda said. “We don’t want to overstay our welcome, not if we want to be invited back. The Lanzadonii are close to the Ninth Cave, and it’s been many years since Dalanar and his Cave have come to a Summer Meeting. They need to renew their ties. Let’s find Lanidar and thank Ayla for inviting us.”

  The camps of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii and the First Cave of the Lanzadonii were, ostensibly, two camps of two Caves of two different people, but actually it was one very large camp of close family and friends.

  Walking through the main camp toward the zelandonia lodge, the four women were a compelling sight. People didn’t even try not to stare. Marthona was always noticed wherever she went. She was a former leader of a major Cave and still powerful, not to mention an attractive older woman. Although some people had met or seen Jerika before, she was still such an unusual-looking woman, so unlike anyone they had seen before, people couldn’t keep their eyes away. The fact that she was mated to Dalanar, and had co-founded with him not only a new Cave, but a new people, made her even more exceptional.

  Jerika’s daughter, Joplaya, the dark-haired melancholy beauty, who, it was rumored, planned to mate with a man of mixed spirits, was a woman of mystery and speculation. The beautiful blond woman that Jondalar brought back, who traveled with two docile horses and a wolf and was rumored to be an accomplished healer, was probably some kind of foreign zelandoni. She spoke their language clearly, if not perfectly, and she had recently found a new and beautiful cave right under the nose of the Nineteenth Cave. Together, the foursome brought more attention than usual, but Ayla was learning to ignore it and was glad for the company.

&n
bsp; Many people had already arrived when they reached the zelandonia lodge. They were observed carefully at the entrance by several Zelandonia who were men, which made Ayla curious. As if Marthona knew what she was thinking, the woman explained.

  “Men are not allowed at this meeting, unless they are zelandonia, but every year there are always a few young men, usually from the fa’lodges, who try to get close so they can listen,” she said. “Some have even attempted to sneak in dressed up as women. The male zelandonia act as guards to keep them away.” She noticed several more men who were zelandonia standing around the large structure, Madroman among them.

  “What are fa’lodges?” Ayla asked.

  “The far lodges, the men’s lodges—people always slur it to fa’lodges. They are summer lodges built around the edges of the Summer Meeting camp by men, usually young men, who are past the need for a donii-woman but not yet mated,” Marthona said. “Young men don’t like to stay with their Caves, they’d rather be with friends their age—except when it’s time for a meal.” She smiled. “Their friends don’t restrict their behavior the way their mothers and their mother’s mates do. Unmated men, especially ofthat age, are absolutely forbidden to go anywhere near the young women who are getting ready for First Rites, but they always try, so the zelandonia keep a close watch on them when they are in camp.

  “In their own lodges, if they construct them far enough away, they can be rowdy and loud, so long as they don’t disturb other people. They can have gathers and invite other friends, and young women, of course. They become very good at badgering their mothers and her friends for extra food and they always try to get barma, or wine, or whatever. I think it becomes a competition to see which lodge can entice the prettiest young women to visit them.