The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [155]
She let go of his hands to reach up and give him a welcoming hug instead. He bent over and, on impulse, because he was so happy to be there, he picked the short woman up to give her a proper embrace. Slightly disconcerted, she blushed, and it occurred to her that the tall, handsome, sometimes moody man had changed. She didn’t recall that he was so spontaneously demonstrative with his affections in the past. When he put her down, she studied the man, and the woman he had brought, sure she had something to do with it.
“Ayla of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, meet Tholie of the Sharamudoi, formerly of the Mamutoi.”
“In the name of Mut or Mudo, whatever you call Her, I welcome you, Ayla of the Mamutoi.”
“In the name of the Mother of All, I thank you, Tholie of the Sharamudoi, and I am very happy to meet you. I have heard so much about you. Don’t you have kin in the Lion Camp? I think Talut said you were related when Jondalar mentioned you,” Ayla said. She sensed that the perceptive woman was studying her. If Tholie didn’t know already, she would soon discover that Ayla had not been born to the Mamutoi.
“Yes, we are related. Not close, though. I came from a southern Camp. The Lion Camp is farther north,” Tholie said. “I know them, though. Everyone knows Talut. He’s hard not to know, and his sister, Tulie, is very much respected,” Tholie said.
That is not a Mamutoi accent, she thought, and Ayla is not a Mamutoi name. I’m not even sure if it’s an accent, just a strange way of saying some words. She speaks well, though. Talut always was one for taking people in. He even took in that complaining old woman, and her daughter who mated way beneath her status. I would like to know more about this Ayla, and those animals, she thought, then looked at Jondalar.
“Is Thonolan with the Mamutoi?” Tholie asked.
The pain in his eyes told her the answer before he said the words. “Thonolan is dead.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Markeno will be, too. I can’t say I didn’t expect it, though. His desire to live died with Jetamio. Some people can recover from tragedy, some cannot,” Tholie said.
Ayla liked the way the woman expressed herself. Not without feeling, but open and direct. She was still very much a Mamutoi.
The rest of the Cave who were present greeted Ayla. She sensed reserved acceptance, but curiosity. Their greeting to Jondalar was much less restrained. He was family; there was no doubt that they considered him one of them, and he was warmly welcomed home.
Darvalo was still holding the hat-basket of blackberries, waiting until all the greetings were finished. He held them up to Dolando. “Here are some berries for Roshario,” he said.
Dolando noticed the unfamiliar basket; it was not made the way they made baskets.
“Ayla gave them to me,” Darvalo continued. “They were picking blackberries when I met them. These were already picked.”
Watching the young man, Jondalar suddenly thought of Darvalo’s mother. He had not expected Serenio to be gone, and he was disappointed. He had truly loved her, in a way, and he realized that he had been looking forward to seeing her. Was she expecting a child when she left? A child of his spirit? Maybe he could ask Roshario. She would know.
“Let’s bring them to her,” Dolando said, nodding a silent thanks to Ayla. “I’m sure she’ll like them. If you want to come in, Jondalar, I think she’s awake, and I know she will want to see you. Bring Ayla, too. She will want to meet her. It’s hard on her. You know how she is. Always up and busy, always the first one to greet visitors.”
Jondalar translated for Ayla, and she nodded her willingness. They left the horses grazing in the field, but she signaled Wolf to stay with her. She could tell that the carnivore still bothered people. Tame horses were strange but not considered dangerous. A wolf was a hunter, capable of inflicting harm.
“Jondalar, I think it’s best if Wolf stays with me for now. Will you ask Dolando if it is all right to bring him in? Tell him he’s accustomed to being indoors,” Ayla said, speaking Mamutoi.
Jondalar repeated her