The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [140]
“Was it so bad living with Dalanar?” Ayla finally asked.
“Living with Dalanar? No.” He looked surprised at what she had said. “That isn’t what was so bad. He was glad to see me. He welcomed me to his hearth, taught me my craft right along with Joplaya, treated me like an adult … and he never said a word about it.”
“A word about what?”
Jondalar took a deep breath. “The reason I was sent there,” he said, and looked down at the cup in his hand.
As the silence deepened, the breathing of the horses filled the cave, and the loud reports of the fire burning and crackling rebounded off the stone walls. Jondalar put the cup down and stood up.
“I always was big for my age, and older than my years,” he began, striding the length of the cleared space around the fire, and then back again. “I matured young. I was no more than eleven years when the donii first came to me in a dream … and she had the face of Zolena.”
There was her name again. The woman who had meant so much to him. He’d talked about her, but only briefly and with obvious distress. Ayla hadn’t understood what caused him such anguish.
“All the young men wanted her for their donii-woman, they all wanted her to teach them. They were supposed to want her, or someone like her”—he whirled and faced Ayla—“but they weren’t supposed to love her! Do you know what it means to fall in love with your donii-woman?”
Ayla shook her head.
“She is supposed to show you, teach you, help you understand the Mother’s great Gift, to make you ready when it is your turn to bring a girl to womanhood. All women are supposed to be donii-women at least once, when they are older, just as all men are supposed to share a young woman’s First Rites, at least once. It is a sacred duty in honor of Doni.” He looked down. “But a donii-woman represents the Great Mother; you don’t fall in love and want her for your mate.” He looked up at her again. “Can you understand that? It’s forbidden. It’s like falling in love with your mother, like wanting to mate your own sister. Forgive me, Ayla. It’s almost like wanting to mate a flathead woman!”
He turned and in a few long paces was at the entrance. He pushed the windbreak aside, then his shoulders slumped and he changed his mind and walked back. He sat down beside her, and looked off into the distance.
“I was twelve, and Zolena was my donii-woman, and I loved her. And she loved me. At first it was just that she seemed to know exactly how to please me, but then it was more. I could talk to her, about anything; we liked to be with each other. She taught me about women, what pleased them, and I learned well because I loved her and wanted to please her. I loved pleasing her. We didn’t mean to fall in love, we didn’t even tell each other, at first. Then we tried to keep it a secret. But I wanted her for my mate. I wanted to live with her. I wanted her children to be the children of my hearth.”
He blinked and Ayla saw a glistening wetness at the corners of his eyes as he stared at the fire.
“Zolena kept saying I was too young, I’d get over it. Most men are at least fifteen before they seriously start looking for a woman to be a mate. I didn’t feel too young. But it didn’t matter what I wanted. I couldn’t have her. She was my donii-woman, my counselor and teacher, and she wasn’t supposed to let me fall in love with her. They blamed her more than me, but that made it worse. She wouldn’t have been blamed at all if I hadn’t been so stupid!” Jondalar said, spitting it out.
“Other men wanted her, too. Always. Whether she wanted them or not. One was always bothering her—Ladroman. She had been his donii-woman a few years before. I suppose