The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [20]
Sergenor smiled with warm affection. “This is my mate, Jayvena of the Seventh Cave of the Zelandonii,” he said to Ayla. “Jayvena, this is Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii. She has many more names and ties, but I’ll let her tell you.”
“But not now,” Jayvena said. “In the name of the Mother, welcome, Ayla of the Ninth Cave. I’m sure you would rather get settled now than recite names and ties.”
As they were starting to leave, Sergenor touched Ayla’s arm and looked at her, then said, quietly, “I sometimes dream of wolves.” She smiled.
As they were leaving, a voluptuous young woman with dark brown hair approached, holding two children in her arms, a dark-haired boy and a blond girl. She smiled at Kimeran, who lightly brushed her cheek with his, then turned to the visitors. “You met my mate, Beladora, last summer, didn’t you?” he said, adding in a voice filled with pride, “and her son and daughter, the children of my hearth?”
Ayla recalled meeting the woman briefly the summer before, though she hadn’t had a chance to get to know her. She knew that Beladora had given birth to her two-born-together at the Summer Meeting around the time of the First Matrimonial, when she and Jondalar were mated. Everyone had been talking about it. That meant the two would soon be able to count one year, she thought.
“Yes, of course,” Jondalar said, bestowing a smile on the woman and her twins, then without really being aware of it, paying closer attention to the attractive young mother, his vivid blue eyes full of appreciation. She smiled back. Kimeran moved closer and put an arm around her waist.
Ayla was adept at reading body language, but she thought anyone could have understood what had just transpired. Jondalar found Beladora attractive, and couldn’t help showing it, just as she couldn’t help responding to him. Jondalar was unaware of his own charisma, didn’t even realize he projected it, but Beladora’s mate was very aware of it. Without saying a word, Kimeran had stepped in and made his claim known.
Ayla observed the byplay and was so intrigued that even though Jondalar was her mate, she didn’t feel any jealousy. She did, however, begin to appreciate the comments she had been hearing about him ever since they had arrived. At a deeper level she knew that Jondalar was only appreciating; he had no desire to do more than look. There was another side to him, one that he rarely showed even to her, and then only when they were alone.
Jondalar’s emotions had always been too strong, his passions too great. All his life he had struggled to control them and had finally managed only by learning to keep his feelings to himself. It was not easy for him to show the full intensity of his feelings. That was why he never displayed publicly the depth of his love for her, but sometimes when they were alone he couldn’t control it. It was so powerful, it sometimes overwhelmed him.
When Ayla turned her head, she noticed Zelandoni Who Was First observing her, and understood that she, too, had been aware of the unspoken interactions and was trying to judge her response. Ayla gave her a knowing smile, then turned her attention to her baby, who was squirming in her carrying blanket, trying to find a way to nurse. She approached the handsome young mother who was standing beside Jayvena.
“Greetings, Beladora. I am glad to see you, especially with your children,” she said. “Jonayla has soaked her padding. I brought some extra to replace it; would you show me where I can change it?”
The woman with a baby on each hip smiled. “Come with me,” she said, and the three women started toward the shelter.
Beladora had heard people talk about Ayla’s unusual accent, but she hadn’t really heard her speak before. She was in labor during the Matrimonial when Jondalar mated his foreign woman, and she’d had little occasion to talk to Ayla later. She was busy with her own concerns, but now she knew what they meant. Though Ayla spoke Zelandonii very well, she just couldn