The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [227]
When Jondalar saw Ayla, she was lying on her back on the rocky shore, beside the patient mare, her arm held up by the rope entangled around her hand. He rushed to her, his heart racing with fear. After first making sure she was still breathing, he gathered her up in his arms and held her close, tears filling his eyes.
“Ayla! Ayla! You’re alive!” he cried. “I was so afraid you were gone. But you’re so cold!”
He had to get her warm. He loosened the rope from her hand and picked her up. She stirred and opened her eyes. Her muscles were tense and rigid, and she could hardly speak, but she was straining to say something. He bent closer.
“Wolf. Find Wolf,” she said in a hoarse whisper.
“Ayla, I have to take care of you!”
“Please. Find Wolf. Lose too many sons. Not Wolf, too,” she said through a clenched jaw.
Her eyes were so full of sorrow and pleading that he couldn’t refuse. “All right. I’ll look for him, but I have to get you into a shelter first.”
It was raining hard as he carried Ayla up a gentle slope. It leveled out in a small terrace with a stand of willows, some brush and sedge, and, near the back, a few pines. He looked for a flat place with no water running across it, then quickly set up the tent. After putting down the mammoth hide on top of the ground cover for extra protection from the saturated soil, he brought Ayla in, then the packs, and laid out their sleeping furs. He stripped off her wet clothes and his own as well, put her between the furs, and crawled in with her.
She wasn’t quite unconscious, but in a dazed stupor. Her skin was cold and clammy, her body stiff. He tried to cover her with his body to warm her. When she began to shiver again, Jondalar breathed a little easier. It meant she was warming inside, but with the beginnings of a return to more awareness, she also remembered Wolf, and irrationally, almost wildly, she insisted that she was going to find him.
“It’s my fault,” she said through chattering teeth. “I told him to jump in the river. I whistled. He trusted me. I have to find Wolf.” She struggled to get up.
“Ayla, forget about Wolf. You don’t even know where to begin to look,” he said, trying to hold her down.
Shivering and sobbing hysterically, she tried to get out of the sleeping furs. “I’ve got to find him,” she cried.
“Ayla, Ayla, I’ll go. If you stay here, I’ll go look for him,” he said, trying to convince her to stay under the warm furs. “But promise me you will stay here, and stay covered.”
“Please find him,” she said.
He quickly put on dry clothes and his outer parka. Then he took out a couple of squares of traveling food, full of energy-rich fat and protein. “I’m going now,” he said. “Eat this, and stay in the furs.”
She grabbed his hand as he turned to go. “Promise me you will search for him,” she said, looking into his troubled blue eyes. She was still shivering, but she seemed to be talking with more ease.
He looked back into her gray-blue eyes, full of worry and pleading and clutched her to him, hard and close. “I was so afraid you were dead.”
She held on to him, reassured by his strength, and his love. “I love you, Jondalar, I would never want to lose you, but, please, find Wolf. I couldn’t bear to lose him. He’s like … a child … a son. I can’t give up another son.” Her voice cracked and tears filled her eyes.
He pulled back and looked down at her. “I’ll look for him. But I can’t promise I’ll find him, Ayla, and even if I do, I can’t promise he’ll be alive.”
A look of fear and horror filled her eyes; then she closed them and nodded. “Just try to find him,” she said, but as he started to move away, she clung to him.
He wasn’t sure if he had really planned to search for the wolf when he first started to get up. He had wanted to get some wood for a fire to get some warm