The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [90]
In another area people were gambling, using various tokens and gaming pieces, and in a nearby area, people were getting refills of their favorite beverages. She noticed Laramar doling out portions of his barma, with a false smile.
“Garnering favors,” Jondalar said, almost as though he knew what she was thinking. She wasn’t aware of the look of distaste that had appeared on her face when she saw the man.
Ayla saw that Tremeda was among those who were standing around waiting for more of his barma, but Laramar wasn’t offering any to her. She turned toward the nearby group who were picking at what was left of the food, which had been gathered together and offered for whoever wanted more.
Throughout the entire space, people stood together talking and laughing, or drifting from one place to another for no apparent reason. Ayla didn’t immediately notice the undercurrent of activity around the darker edges of the crowd. Then she happened to catch sight of a young woman with bright red hair whom she recognized as Folara’s friend, Galeya. She was walking away from the eating area with the young man from the Third Cave, who had joined the lion hunt, Ayla recalled. They had chosen to partner together to watch out for each other.
Ayla watched the young couple as they headed for the darkened periphery of the gathering and saw when they paused to embrace. She felt a moment of embarrassment; she hadn’t meant to observe them when they were being intimate. Then she saw that there were others in certain areas away from the main activities who also appeared to be closely involved with each other. Ayla felt herself flush.
Jondalar smiled to himself. He had seen where she was looking. The Zelandonii tended not to stare at such activity either. It wasn’t so much a matter of embarrassment; intimacy was commonplace and they just ignored it. He had traveled far and was aware that people’s customs could be different, but she had too; he knew that she had seen people together before—they lived in such close quarters it couldn’t be avoided. She must have seen similar activity at the Summer Meeting the year before. He wasn’t quite sure what was causing her discomfort. He was going to ask, but then he saw Levela and Jondecam returning and decided to wait until later.
Her discomfiture stemmed from her early years when she had lived with the Clan. It had been strongly stressed to her that some things, even though they could be observed, were not supposed to be seen. The stones that outlined each hearth in the cave of Brun’s clan were like invisible walls. One did not see past the boundary stones, did not look into the private areas of another man’s hearth. People averted their eyes, or assumed the far-off look of gazing into space, anything to avoid seeming to stare into the area enclosed by the stones. And as a rule they were careful not to stare inadvertently. Staring was part of the body sign language of the Clan, and had specific meanings. An intense look from a leader, for example, could be a reprimand.
When she realized what she had seen, Ayla had quickly looked in another direction, and saw Levela and Jondecam approaching. She felt an odd sense of relief. She touched cheeks and greeted them affectionately, as though she hadn’t seen them for a while.
“We’re going to watch the storytellers,” Levela said.
“I was just trying to decide if I wanted to listen to stories or music,” Ayla