The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [30]
The woman blew on it a bit then, sipped it carefully, and cocked her head, trying to identify the taste. “Chamomile, of course, but … let me think. Is it lemon balm, with perhaps some linden flowers?” she asked.
Ayla smiled. It was exactly what she did when she was given something unknown; she tried to identify it. And of course Zelandoni had known the ingredients. “Yes,” Ayla said. “I had dried chamomile and linden flowers, but I just found the lemon balm a few days ago. I’m glad it grows nearby.”
“Perhaps you could collect some lemon balm for me the next time you get some for yourself. It could be useful to take to the Summer Meeting.”
“I’d be happy to. I could even get it today. I know exactly where it grows. On the plateau above, near the Falling Stone,” she said. Ayla was referring to the unique formation of an ancient columnar section of basalt that had once found its way to the bottom of the primordial sea and was now eroding out of the limestone in a way that made it appear to be falling, though it was still firmly embedded into the upper face of the cliff.
“What do you know about the uses of this?” Zelandoni asked, holding up the cup of tea.
“Chamomile is relaxing and if you take it at night, it can help you to fall asleep. Lemon balm is calming, especially if you feel nervous and stressful. It will even relieve the stomach upset that sometimes comes with stress and it will help you sleep. It has a pleasant taste that is good with chamomile. Linden helps with headaches, especially when you feel tight and tense, and adds a little sweetening.” Ayla thought of Iza, and the way she would test her with similar questions to see how much she remembered of the knowledge Iza was teaching her. She wondered if Zelandoni was also trying to find out how much she knew.
“Yes, this tea could be used as a mild sedative, in sufficient strength.”
“If someone is really excitable, anxious and can’t sleep, and something a little stronger is needed, the liquid from boiled valerian roots is settling,” Ayla said.
“Particularly at night, to bring on sleep, but if the stomach is also upset, then vervain, a tea of the flower stems and leaves, may be better,” the First said.
“I’ve also used vervain for someone recovering from a long illness, but it should not be given to a pregnant woman. It can stimulate labor, and even milk flow.” The two women stopped, looked at each other, and chuckled, then Ayla said, “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to have someone to talk to about medicines and healing. Someone who knows so much.”
“I think you may know as much as I do—in certain ways, more, Ayla, and it is a pleasure to discuss and compare ideas with you. I look forward to many years of such rewarding discussions,” Zelandoni said; then she looked around and motioned toward the sleeping roll spread out on the floor. “It appears you’re getting ready for the trip.”
“I was just checking the sleeping roll to see if it needed mending. It’s been a while since we’ve used it,” Ayla said. “It’s a good one for traveling in all kinds of weather.”
The sleeping roll consisted of several hides sewn together to make a long top and bottom to accommodate Jondalar’s height. They were attached at the foot, and removable thongs were threaded through holes down the sides that could be lashed tightly together or left loose, or even removed if it was especially warm. Thick furs were on the outside of the bottom piece, to create an insulating cushion against the hard and often cold ground. Any of several furs could be used, but it was usually made from an animal killed in cold weather. On this one, Ayla had used the supremely dense, naturally insulating winter fur of reindeer. The top of the sleeping roll was lighter