The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [170]
Markeno beamed. “I think so, too, though one is not supposed to say that of the daughter of one’s own hearth.” Then he turned to the youngster. “How is Roshario, Darvo?”
“Ayla has fixed her arm,” he said. “She is a healer.”
“Jondalar told us she set the break properly,” Carlono said, careful to be noncommittal. He would wait to see how well her arm healed.
Ayla noticed the Ramudoi leader’s response, but she thought it was understandable, given the circumstances. No matter how well they liked Jondalar, she was a stranger, after all.
“Darvalo and I are going to gather some herbs I noticed on the way here, Jondalar,” she said. “Roshario is still sleeping, but I want to make a drink for her when she wakes. Dolando is with her. I don’t like the look of Racer’s eyes, either. Later I’ll look for more of those white plants to help him, but I don’t want to take the time now. You might try rinsing them with cool water,” she said. Then, smiling at everyone, she signaled Wolf, nodded to Darvalo, and headed for the edge of the embayment.
The view from the path at the end of the wall was no less spectacular than it had been the first time she saw it. She had to catch her breath as she looked down, but she could not resist doing it. She allowed Darvalo to lead the way and was glad she did when he showed her a shortcut he knew. The wolf explored the area around the path, busily chasing after intriguing scents, then rejoining them. The first few times Wolf suddenly reappeared, he startled the youth, but as they continued, Darvalo began to get used to his comings and goings.
The large old linden tree announced its presence long before they reached it with a rich fragrance, reminiscent of honey, and the droning hum of bees. The tree came into view around a turn in the path and revealed the source of the luscious aroma, small green-and-yellow flowers dangling from oblong, winglike bracts. The bees were so busy collecting nectar that they didn’t bother with the people who disturbed them, though the woman had to shake some bees out of the blossoms they cut. The insects just flew back to the tree and found others.
“Why is this especially good for Rosh?” Darvalo asked. “People always make linden tea.”
“It does taste good, doesn’t it? But it’s helpful, too. If you’re upset, or nervous, or even angry, it can be very soothing; if you’re tired, it wakes you up, lifts your spirits. It can make a headache go away and calm an upset stomach. Roshario will be feeling all of those things, because of the drink that made her go to sleep.”
“I didn’t know it would do all that,” the youngster said, looking again at the familiar spreading tree with smooth dark brown bark, impressed that something so ordinary had qualities that made it so much more than it seemed.
“There is another tree I would like to find, Darvalo, but I don’t know the name in Mamutoi,” Ayla said. “It’s a small tree, sometimes growing as brush. It has thorns on it, and the leaves are shaped a little like a hand with fingers. It has clusters of white flowers earlier in the summer, and about now, round red berries.”
“It’s not a rosebush you want, is it?”
“No, but that’s a good guess. The one I want usually grows bigger than a rosebush, but the flowers are smaller, and the leaves are different.”
Darvalo frowned with concentration, then suddenly smiled. “I think I know what you mean, and there are some not far from here. In spring, we always pick the leaf buds and eat them when we walk by.”
“Yes, that sounds like the one. Can you take me to it?”
Wolf was not in sight, so Ayla whistled. He appeared almost instantly, looking at her with eager anticipation. She signaled him to follow. They walked for a short while until they came to a stand of hawthorne.
“That’s exactly what I was looking for, Darvalo!” Ayla said. “I wasn’t sure if my description was clear enough.”
“What does this do?” he asked as they were picking berries and some leaves.
“It’s for the heart, restores, strengthens it, and stimulates, makes it beat hard—but it’s gentle, for a healthy heart. It’s not for someone