The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [80]
The day of the communal Mating Ceremony had dawned bright and clear, and an air of anticipation filled the whole Camp, not just those who would be participating. It was a celebration that everyone looked forward to, one that they all took part in. The ceremony included the voiced approval of the newly mated couples by all the people at the Summer Meeting. The matings created changes in the names and ties of more than the new couples and their families; the status of nearly everyone shifted to some degree, some more than others, depending on the closeness of their relationships.
The Matrimonial the year before had been a stressful time for Ayla. Not only because it was her Mating Ceremony, but because she had so recently arrived and was the center of so much attention. She wanted Jondalar’s people to like and accept her and was trying to fit in. Most of them did, but not all of them.
This year the leaders and former leaders, as well as the the zelandonia, were seated strategically so they could answer when the First asked for responses from those present, which to her meant approvals. The First had not been pleased with the hesitation from some of the crowd the year before when she asked for the endorsement responses for Ayla and Jondalar, and she did not want that to become a practice. She liked her ceremonies to run smoothly.
The accompanying festivities were anticipated with great relish. People prepared their best dishes and wore their best clothes, but the Mating Festival was not only a joyous occasion for the ones who were mating, it was also the most appropriate occasion for a Mother Festival. Then everyone was encouraged to honor the Great Earth Mother by sharing Her Gift of Pleasure, with joinings and couplings as often as one was able, and with whomever one chose so long as the feeling was reciprocated.
People were encouraged to honor the Mother, but it was not required. Certain areas were set aside for those who did not wish to participate. Children were never required, though if some of them bounced around with each other in imitation of the adults, it usually drew indulgent smiles. Some adults just didn’t feel like it, especially those who were sick or hurt or recovering from accidents or just tired, or women who had recently given birth, or were having their moontime and bleeding. A few of the zelandonia, who were undergoing certain trials that required abstaining from Pleasures for a period of time, volunteered to tend to the young children and help the others.
The One Who Was First was inside the zelandonia dwelling, sitting on a stool. She swallowed the last of her cup of hawthorn flowers and catmint tea and pronounced, “It’s time.” She gave the empty cup to Ayla, got up, and walked toward the back of the lodge to a small, secondary, somewhat concealed access that was camouflaged on the outside by a construction used to hold additional wood.
Ayla sniffed the cup; it was an automatic, habitual action, and almost as subconsciously, she noted the ingredients and reflected that it was probably the woman’s moontime. Catmint, the waist-high, downy-leafed perennial with the whorls of white, pink, and purple flowers, was a mild sedative that could relieve tension and cramps. She wondered about the hawthorn, however. It had a distinctive taste and maybe she liked the flavor, but it was also one of the ingredients the First used in the medicinal preparation that she made for Marthona. Ayla was now aware that the medicines the Zelandoni gave Jondalar’s mother were for the heart, the muscle in her chest that pumped blood. She had seen similar heart muscles in the animals she hunted and subsequently butchered. Hawthorn helped it to pump more vigorously and more rhythmically. She put the cup down and exited out the main entrance.
Wolf was waiting outside and looked expectantly at Ayla. She smiled, shifted Jonayla who was asleep in her carrying blanket, and hunkered down in front of the animal. Taking his head in both hands, she looked in his eyes.
“Wolf, I am so