The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [77]
Madroman was also scowling at Ayla and Jondalar. He resented the way Ayla was getting so much attention from the First. Yes, she was her acolyte, but he didn’t think it was right for the one who was supposed to be overseeing all the acolytes to favor her so much when they were together at a Summer Meeting. And of course Jondalar had to be in the middle of things. Why did he have to come home? Things were better while the big oaf was gone, especially after the Zelandoni of the Fifth Cave decided to take him as an acolyte, though he thought he should have been a Zelandoni by now. But what could he expect with the Fat One in control? I’ll think of a way, he thought.
Laramar turned his back on the whole thing and walked away, thinking his own thoughts. He’d seen enough of those horses and that wolf, especially that wolf. As far as he was concerned, they lived too close to his dwelling in the Ninth Cave, and they had spread out so far, the horses were on the other side of him. Before they came he could cut across the space they occupied. Now every time he went home, he had to make a wide circle around their lodge to avoid the wolf. The few times he got too close, the animal got his hackles up, wrinkled his nose, and showed his teeth, as though the whole place belonged to him.
Besides, she interfered, coming over and bringing food or blankets as though she was being nice, but she was really checking up on him. Now he didn’t even have a lodge to go to. Not one where he felt he belonged. The children acted as though it was theirs. But it was still his hearth, and what he did at his own hearth wasn’t any of her business.
Well, there were still the fa’lodges. He actually liked staying there. He wasn’t bothered by children crying in the night, or his drunken mate coming in and starting an argument. At the fa’lodge where he was staying, the other men were mostly older and didn’t bother each other. It wasn’t boisterous and loud like the fa’lodges of the younger men, though if he offered one of his lodge-mates a drink of his barma, they were more than happy to drink with him. Too bad there were no fa’lodges at the Ninth Cave.
Ayla rode Whinney slowly around the outside of the large zelandonia lodge pulling the pole-drag, then started out of the Summer Meeting Camp back the way she had come. Jondalar followed leading Racer and Gray. The area where the Summer Meeting had been set up, called Sun View after the name of the nearby Cave, was often used as a campground for large gatherings. When it rained, stones were brought from the river and the nearby cliffs to pave the ground, especially when it was unusually muddy. Each year more were added until the campsite was now defined by the large area paved by the stones.
When they were somewhat outside the boundary of the Camp, beyond the paving stones and in the middle of a grassy field on the floodplain of the river, Ayla stopped. “Let’s take off Whinney’s pole-drag and leave the horses here for a while,” she said, “where they can graze. I don’t think they will wander far, and we can whistle them back, if we have to.”
“Good idea,” Jondalar said. “Most people know not to bother them if one of us isn’t around and we can check on them. I’ll take their halters off, too.”
As they were tending to the horses, they saw Lanidar approaching, still wearing his specially made spear-thrower holder. He waved, then whistled a greeting, and received a welcoming neigh from Whinney and Racer in return.
“I wanted to see the horses,” he said. “I liked watching out for them last year and getting