The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [218]
“Perhaps you should walk, Zelandoni,” Willamar said. “It’s not much farther.”
“Yes, I think I will,” she said. “If I recall right, the trail narrows more up ahead.”
“There is a wide spot around the next bend. You might want to leave the pole-drag there, Ayla,” Willamar suggested. “I don’t think the trail will accommodate it.”
“Pole-drags don’t do well on steep trails. We found that out before,” she said, including Jondalar with a glance.
When they reached the wide place, they helped the Donier down, and proceeded to unhitch the conveyance. Then they continued walking up the trail, with Willamar in the lead and the rest of the travelers behind him. Ayla, Jondalar, and Jonayla with the animals brought up the rear.
They traversed a few more legs of the zigzag path and one steep climb up the trail and suddenly found themselves on a relatively broad, grassy shelf at the back of which, amid the smoke of a few fires, was a collection of rather substantial shelters made of wood and hides, with grass thatch roofs. A crowd of people was standing in front of the dwellings facing the approaching visitors, but Ayla could not tell if they were especially glad to see them. They seemed defensive; no one was smiling and some held spears, though they were not aimed at anyone.
Ayla had seen that kind of reception before and subtly signaled the wolf to stay close. She could hear the slight rumble in his throat as he moved in front of her in a protective stance. She looked at Jondalar, who had put himself in front of Jonayla and held her there, though she struggled to see around him. The horses were prancing lightly with nervousness, and their ears were pricked forward. Jondalar took a better grip on the lead ropes of Racer and Gray and looked toward Ayla as she put a hand on Whinney’s neck.
“Willamar!” a voice called out. “Is that you?”
“Farnadal! Of course it’s me, and a few others, mostly from the Ninth Cave. I thought you’d be expecting us. Aren’t Kimeran and Jondecam here yet?” Willamar said.
“No, they aren’t,” Farnadal said. “Should they be?”
“Are they coming?” a female voice said, with a happy touch of excitement.
“We expected them to be here already. No wonder you look so surprised to see us,” Willamar said.
“You are not the one who surprises me,” Farnadal said, with a sardonic look.
“I think some introductions are in order,” Willamar said. “I’ll begin with the First Among Those Who Serve The Great Earth Mother.”
Farnadal gasped, then caught himself and stepped forward. Once he looked more closely he recognized her both from her general description and from her tattoos. He had met her before but it had been some time and they had both changed since then.
“In the name of Doni you are welcome, Zelandoni the First,” he said, then held out both hands and continued with the formal greeting. The rest of the travelers were introduced, with Jondalar and Ayla last.
“This is Jondalar of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, Master Flint-Knapper …,” the Master Trader began, then continued with Ayla’s introduction.
“This is Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, formerly of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi …,” Willamar said. He noticed Farnadal’s expression change as he gave her names and ties, and especially when she greeted him and he heard her speak.
The introductions, by inference, had told him quite a lot about the woman. First that she was a foreigner, which was obvious when she spoke, who had been adopted as a full Zelandonii, in her own right, not just mated to someone who was a Zelandonii, which was unusual in itself. Then that she belonged to the zelandonia, and had become an acolyte of the First. And although the man was holding ropes that had been tied around two horses and was controlling them, she was given the credit for all the animals. It was obvious that