The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [406]
Zelandoni nodded. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have let her come so soon,” she said.
“There was no way I could stop her. You know how she is when she decides she wants to do something,” Marthona said. Zelandoni nodded in acknowledgment. “She couldn’t wait to see Jondalar, and Jonayla. Especially after losing one, she wanted to see her child, and I think she wanted to start another one. And she was sure she knew how. I think that’s partly why she wanted to see Jondalar so bad.”
“She saw him, all right,” Proleva said, “with Marona.”
“I don’t understand Jondé sometimes,” Folara said. “Of all people, why couldn’t he leave her alone?”
“Probably because she wouldn’t leave him alone,” Proleva said. “His needs have always been strong. She made it too easy.”
“And then what does he do when she decides to take her turn at the Festival?” Folara said. “It’s not like she didn’t have the right.”
“Right or not, she didn’t do it because she wanted to celebrate the Mother at the Festival,” Zelandoni said. “She did it out of hurt and anger; that’s why she chose the man she did. She didn’t want Laramar, she wanted to get back at Jondalar. That doesn’t Honor the Mother, and she knows it. Neither of them is without fault, but I think both of them are trying to take all the blame on themselves, and that doesn’t help.”
“No matter who takes the blame, Jondalar will still a have a harsh penalty to pay,” Marthona said.
“I can’t blame Laramar for not wanting to return to the Ninth Cave, and I’m glad the Fifth was willing to take him in, but his mate doesn’t want to move,” Proleva said. “She says the Ninth Cave is her home. She does have a good location, but if she stays without a mate, who’s going to take care of that brood of hers?”
“Or supply the barma she drinks every day,” Folara said.
“That may be what will encourage her to move to the Fifth,” Zelandoni said.
“Unless her eldest son takes over,” Proleva said. “He’s been learning to make that barma for several years. Some say his is better than Laramar’s, and there are enough people along our section of The River who would rather have a nearby source.”
“Well, don’t suggest it to him,” Marthona said.
“It won’t make any difference. If we can think of it, someone else is bound to as well,” Proleva said.
Zelandoni noticed two more people joining the ones who were chanting, and one leaving. She nodded her approval to them, then glanced at Ayla. Did her skin seem more gray? She hadn’t moved but somehow she seemed to have sunk deeper into the bed. The Donier didn’t like the way she looked. She went back to her explanation.
“I was saying that I wanted to try to help Ayla get her mind off her problems, to get her to talk about other things that are usually of great interest to her. That’s why I asked her about this Clan root, but I’m not without fault, either. I was too anxious to learn about it. I should have been paying closer attention to her. I should have seen how upset she really was. And I should have believed her about the potency of the Clan root. I took only one drink, and had to struggle to maintain control. It is far more powerful than I ever imagined,” Zelandoni said.
“I’m afraid Ayla is lost somewhere in the world of the spirits. The only thing I really remember her saying is that chanting was the tie that kept her bound to this world, and I could feel the pull of it when I was somewhat lost from just the one drink. I will be honest with you. I don’t know what else to do for her, except to keep her warm and chant and hope it wears off soon.”
“The Clan root—she told me about that,” Marthona said. “The one she calls Mamut said he would never try that root again, that he was afraid he would be lost forever. He told her it was too powerful, and he warned Ayla never to use it again.”
The First frowned. “Why didn’t she tell me Mamut told her not to use that root? He was One Who Serves; he would know.