The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [325]
“We’re going to have to work that out with S’Armuna,” Jondalar said. “I think it’s obvious that most of the women want things to change, and I’m sure many of them would help, if they knew what to do. S’Armuna will know who they are.”
They had entered the open woods from the field, and they rode through its cover, though in places it was quite sparse, toward the river and then back around to the place they had left the wolf. As soon as they neared, Ayla signaled with a soft whistle, and Wolf bounded out to greet them, almost beside himself with happiness. He had been watching from the place Ayla had told him to stay, and they both gave him praise and attention for waiting. Ayla did notice he had hunted and brought his kill back, which meant he had left his hiding place at least for a while. It worried her, since they were so close to the Camp and its Wolf Women, but she found it hard to blame him. It made her all the more determined, however, to get him away from the hunting women who ate wolves as soon as possible.
They walked the horses quietly back toward the river, to the grove where they had hidden their packs. Ayla got out one of their few remaining cakes of traveling food, broke it in two, and gave the larger piece to Jondalar. They sat amidst the brush, eating their snack, glad to be away from the depressing environment of the S’Armunai Camp.
Suddenly she heard a low rumbling growl from Wolf, and the hair on the back of Ayla’s neck stood on end.
“Someone’s coming,” Jondalar whispered, feeling a quick rush of alarm at the sound.
Snapped to the sharp edge of awareness by the warning, Ayla and Jondalar scanned the area, certain that Wolf’s keener senses had detected immediate danger. Noticing the direction Wolf’s nose was pointing, Ayla looked carefully through the screen of brush and saw two women approaching. One of them, she was almost certain, was Epadoa. She tapped Jondalar’s arm and pointed. He nodded when he saw them.
“You wait, keep horses quiet,” she signed to him in the silent language of the Clan. “I make Wolf hide. I go stalk women, keep women away.”
“I go,” Jondalar signed, shaking his head.
“Women more listen to me,” Ayla replied.
Jondalar nodded reluctantly. “I watch here with spear-thrower,” he said with gestures. “You take spear-thrower.”
Ayla nodded in agreement. “And sling,” she signaled back.
With silent stealth, Ayla circled around in front of the two women, then waited. As they slowly approached, she heard them talking.
“I’m sure they came this way after they left their campsite last night, Unavoa,” the head Wolf Woman said.
“But they already came to our Camp since last night. Why are we still looking here?”
“They may come back this way, and even if they don’t, we may find out something about them.”
“Some people are saying they disappear, or turn into birds or horses when they leave,” the younger Wolf Woman said.
“Don’t be silly,” Epadoa said. “Didn’t we find where they camped last night? Why would they have to make a camp if they could turn into animals?”
She’s right, Ayla thought. At least she uses her head and thinks, and she’s not really so bad at tracking. She’s probably even a decent hunter; it’s too bad she’s so close to Attaroa.
Ayla, crouching behind bare tangled brush and yellowed knee-high grass, watched as they drew closer. At a moment when both women were looking down, she silently stood up, holding her spear-thrower poised.
Epadoa started with surprise, and Unavoa jumped back and let out a little squeal of shock when they looked up and saw the blond stranger.
“You look for me?” Ayla said, speaking in their language. “I am here.”
Unavoa appeared ready to break and run, and even Epadoa seemed nervous and frightened.
“We were … we were hunting,” Epadoa said.
“No horses here to chase over edge,” Ayla said.
“We weren’t hunting horses.”
“I know. You hunt Ayla and Jondalar.”
Her sudden appearance, and the strange quality to the way Ayla said the words in their language, made her seem exotic, from someplace far away, perhaps even from another