The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [122]
“Everyone says that he was the great love of her life,” Jondalar said.
“Dalanar was the great love of her life. For him, Marthona could almost have given up her leadership, but not quite. She felt they needed her. And though he loved her as much as she loved him, after a while, he needed something of his own. He wasn’t content to sit in her shadow. Unlike you, Jondalar, his skill in working with the stone wasn’t enough.”
“But he is one of the most skilled I have ever met. His work is known by everyone, and they all acknowledge him as the best. The only flint-knapper I’ve ever known who can compare with him is Wymez, of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi. I always wished the two of them could meet,” Jondalar said.
“Perhaps, in a sense they have, through you,” the large woman said. “Jondalar, you must know that if you aren’t already, you will soon be the most renowned flint-knapper of the Zelandonii. Dalanar is a skilled tool-maker, there’s no question of that, but he’s Lanzadonii now. Anyway, his real skill was always people. He is happy now. He has founded his own Cave, his own people, and though in a way he will always be Zelandonii, his Lanzadonii will someday come into their own.
“And you are the son of his heart, as well as the son of his hearth, Jondalar. He’s proud of you. He loves Jerika’s daughter, Joplaya, too. He’s proud of you both. Although in a hidden place in his heart, he might always love Marthona, he adores Jerika. I think he loves that she looks so exotic, and that she is so little, yet so fierce. That’s part of what attracts him. He’s so big that next to him she looks half his size, she looks delicate, but she is more than a match for him. She has no desire to be leader; she’s happy to let him do it, although I have no doubt that she could. Her strength of will and character are formidable.”
“You are certainly right about that, Zelandoni!” he said, with a laugh, one of his big, lusty warm laughs, its spontaneous enthusiasm all the more astonishing because it was unexpected. Jondalar was a serious man, and though he smiled easily, he seldom laughed out loud. When he did, the unreserved exuberance of it came as a surprise.
“Dalanar found someone after he and Marthona severed the knot, but many doubted that she would ever find a man to replace him, would ever love another man in the same way, and she didn’t, but she found Willamar. Her love for him is not less than her love for Dalanar, but of a different character, just as her love for Dalanar was not the same as her love for Joconan. Willamar also has a skill with people—that’s true of all the men in her life—but he satisfies it as the Trade Master, traveling, making contacts, seeing new and unusual places. He has seen more, learned more, and met more people than anyone, including you, Jondalar. He loves to travel, but even more, he loves coming home and sharing his adventures and knowledge about the people he met. He has established trading networks all across the Zelandonii land and beyond, and has brought back useful news, exciting stories, and unusual objects. He was a tremendous help to Marthona as leader, and now to Joharran. There is no man I respect more. And, of course, her only daughter was born to his hearth. Marthona always wanted a daughter, and your sister, Folara, is a lovely young woman,” Zelandoni said.
Ayla understood the feeling. She too had wanted a daughter very much, and she glanced down at her sleeping infant with a strong feeling of love.
“Yes, Folara is beautiful, and also intelligent and fearless,” Jondalar said. “When we first arrived, and everyone else was so uneasy about the horses and all, she didn’t hesitate. She ran down the path to greet me. I’ll never forget that.”
“Yes, Folara makes your mother proud, but more, with a daughter one always knows that her children are