The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [259]
Jondalar’s first thought was, how dare anybody try to harm Ayla! This time it wasn’t temper, it was reaction.
In an instant, before any of the men even thought of moving, Jondalar took two long steps and was behind Balderan. He bent over and grabbed both his wrists and broke his hold, almost broke his arms. Then letting go of one arm, he spun him around and smashed him in the face with his fist. He was close to hitting him again, but the man slumped over in a daze, blood running down his face from his broken nose.
Balderan had misjudged Jondalar entirely. He was not only a big man, he was a powerful man with quick reflexes, a man who sometimes had to exert himself to control a spirited stallion. Racer was not a domesticated horse; he was a trained horse. Jondalar had lived with him from the day he was born and taught him, but Racer still had all the natural instincts of an extremely strong and sometimes willful wild stallion. It took a lot of strength to handle the horse, and it kept the man in shape.
Balderan had doubled the leather cord that had originally been used to tie his shirt together. It was still hanging loosely around Ayla’s neck, but the marks it had made were bright red, even in the dim light of fireplaces that were some distance away. People were belatedly running in their direction. Everything had happened so fast. Several Zelandonia, including the First, went to help Ayla, and Jondalar wouldn’t leave her side.
The people Zelandoni First had spoken to about how to deal with Balderan had gathered around him as he was lying on the ground. Suddenly Aremina, the woman who had been raped and whose mate he had killed, kicked him. Then the woman who had lost her daughter after she was held by them and badly mistreated suddenly kicked him too. Then a man who had been beaten by the men after watching his mate and young daughter being raped punched his face, breaking his nose again. Balderan’s other men were trying to back away, but they were all surrounded now, and one of them was punched in the face.
There was no stopping the angry crowd now. Everyone who had been subject to the depredations of Balderan and his men was giving it back and then some. The crowd had turned into a mob. It had happened so fast, no one knew what to do at first; then the Zelandonia moved in to stop it. Ayla was among them shouting, “Stop it! Stop it now! You are acting like Balderan.” But the people couldn’t stop. All their frustrations, their feelings of impotence, humiliation, and powerlessness came out.
When the people settled down and looked around all four men were sprawled on the ground covered with blood. Ayla bent over Balderan to check him; he was dead and so were two others. One was barely hanging on to life, the one who had asked how he could make reparations. Wolf suddenly appeared and stayed with Ayla, watching the scene closely, a low growl in his throat, and she could tell he wasn’t sure what to do. Ayla sat on the ground with her arms around his neck.
The First moved beside her. “That’s not at all the way I expected it to happen,” she said. “I didn’t realize there was so much pent-up anger, but I should have.”
“Balderan brought it on himself,” Zelandoni First said. “If he hadn’t attacked Ayla, Jondalar would not have hit him. Once he was down, the people who had been hurt by him couldn’t hold back. They knew he wasn’t invincible. I guess there is no need for the hemlock now. I will have to make sure it is disposed of properly.”
Everyone was still tense and overexcited. It took a while for most people to understand what had happened. Those who had participated were beginning to feel a range of emotions. Some felt shame for what they had done; others felt relief, sorrow, excitement, even elation that Balderan had finally gotten back what he had given out.
Levela had kept Jonayla with her when Wolf ran out of the tent, though she wanted to follow him. Ayla had some of