The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [139]
The evening meal was quiet. They made sporadic comments, and often lapsed into silence, each occupied with private thoughts.
“The birds are delicious, as usual,” Jondalar remarked.
“Creb liked them that way.”
She had mentioned that before. It was still hard to believe, sometimes, that she had learned so much from the flatheads she lived with. When he thought of it, though, why wouldn’t they know how to cook as well as anyone?
“My mother is a good cook. She would probably like them, too.”
Jondalar has been thinking a lot about his mother lately, Ayla thought. He said he woke up this morning dreaming about her.
“When I was growing up, she had special foods she liked to make … when she wasn’t busy with the matters of the Cave.”
“Matters of the Cave?”
“She was the leader of the Ninth Cave.”
“You told me that, but I didn’t understand. You mean she was like Tulie? A headwoman?”
“Yes, something like that. But there was no Talut, and the Ninth Cave is much bigger than the Lion Camp. Many more people.” He stopped and closed his eyes in concentration. “Maybe as many as four people for every one.
Ayla tried to think about how many that would be, then decided she would work it out later with marks on the ground, but she wondered how so many people could live together all the time. It seemed to be almost enough for a Clan Gathering.
“In the Clan, no women were leaders,” she said.
“Marthona became leader after Joconnan. Zelandoni told me she was so much a part of his leadership that after he died, everyone just turned to her. My brother, Joharran, was born to his hearth. He’s leader now, but Marthona is still an adviser … or she was when I left.”
Ayla frowned. He had spoken of them before, but she hadn’t quite understood all his relationships. “Your mother was the mate of … how did you say it? Joconnan?”
“Yes.”
“But you always talk of Dalanar.”
“I was born to his hearth.”
“So your mother was the mate of Dalanar, too.”
“Yes. She was already a leader when they mated. They were very close, people still tell stories about Marthona and Dalanar, and sing sad songs about their love. Zelandoni told me they cared too much. Dalanar didn’t want to share her with the Cave. He grew to hate the time she spent on leadership duties, but she felt a responsibility. Finally they severed the knot and he left. Later, Marthona made a new hearth with Willomar, and then gave birth to Thonolan and Folara. Dalanar traveled to the northeast, discovered a flint mine and met Jerika, and founded the First Cave of the Lanzadonii there.”
He was silent for a while. Jondalar seemed to feel a need to talk about his family, so Ayla listened even though he was repeating some things he’d said before. She got up, poured the last of the tea into their cups, added wood to the fire, then sat on the furs on the end of the bed and watched its flickering light move shadows across Jondalar’s pensive face. “What does it mean, Lanzadonii?” she asked.
Jondalar smiled. “It just means … people … children of Doni … children of the Great Earth Mother who live in the northeast, to be exact.”
“You lived there, didn’t you? With Dalanar?”
He closed his eyes. His jaw worked as he ground his teeth and his forehead knotted with pain. Ayla had seen that expression before, and wondered. He had spoken about that period in his life during the summer, but it upset him and she knew he held back. She felt a tension in the air, a great pressure building up centered on Jondalar, like a swelling of the earth getting ready to burst forth from great depths.
“Yes, I lived there,” he said, “for three years.” He jumped