The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [326]
“I think these two should return to their Camp, or they may miss the big feast tonight.”
The voice came from the woods, and it was speaking Mamutoi, but both women understood the language and recognized that it was Jondalar who spoke. They looked back in the direction from which his voice had come and saw the tall blond man leaning nonchalantly against the bole of a large white-barked birch, holding his spear and spear-thrower ready.
“Yes. You are right. We don’t want to miss the feast,” Epadoa said. Prodding her speechless young companion, she wasted no time in turning around and leaving.
When they were gone, Jondalar could not resist cracking a big grin.
The sun was descending toward late afternoon of the short winter day when Ayla and Jondalar rode back to the S’Armunai Camp. They had changed Wolf’s hiding place, leaving him somewhat closer to the settlement, since it would soon be dark, and people seldom went beyond the comfort of firelight at night, though Ayla still worried that he might be captured.
S’Armuna was just leaving her lodge as they dismounted at the edge of the field, and she smiled with relief when she saw them. In spite of their promises, she couldn’t help wondering if they would return. After all, why should strangers put themselves in jeopardy to help people they didn’t even know? Their own kin had not even come for the past several years to find out if all was well with them. Of course, friends and kin had not been made welcome the last time they came.
Jondalar removed Racer’s halter so he would not be encumbered in any way, and both gave the horses friendly slaps on the rump to encourage them to move away from the Camp. S’Armuna walked over to meet the two.
“We are just finishing our preparations for the Fire Ceremony tomorrow. We always start a warming fire the night before; would you like to come and warm up?” the woman said.
“It is cold,” Jondalar said. They both walked beside her to the kiln on the other side of the Camp.
“I’ve found a way to heat the food you brought, Ayla. You said it would be better warm, and I’m sure you are right. It smells wonderful.” S’Armuna smiled.
“How can you heat such a thick mixture in baskets?”
“I’ll show you,” the woman said, ducking into the anteroom of the small structure. Ayla followed her, with Jondalar right behind. Although no fire burned in the small fireplace, it was quite warm inside. S’Armuna went directly to the opening of the second chamber and removed the mammoth shoulder bone that was covering it. The air from inside was hot, hot enough to cook, Ayla thought. She looked in and saw that a fire had been started inside the chamber, and just inside the opening, some distance from the fire itself, were her two baskets.
“It does smell good!” Jondalar said.
“You have no idea how many people have been asking when the feast is going to start,” S’Armuna said. “They can even smell it in the Holding. Ardemun came to me and asked if the men are really going to get a share. It’s not only this. I’m surprised, but Attaroa did tell the women to prepare food for a feast, and to make enough for everyone. I can’t remember when we last had a real feast … but we haven’t had much reason to celebrate. It makes me wonder what we have to celebrate tonight.”
“Visitors,” Ayla said. “You are honoring visitors.”
“Yes, visitors,” the woman said. “Remember, that was her excuse to get you to come back. I must warn you. Do not drink or eat any food that comes from a dish that she has not eaten from first. Attaroa knows many harmful things that can be disguised in food. If necessary, only eat what you have brought. I have watched it carefully.”
“Even in here?” Jondalar said.
“No one dares come in here without my permission,” the One Who Served the Mother said, “but outside of this place, be very careful. Attaroa and Epadoa have had their heads together most of the day. They are planning something.”
“And they