The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [353]
They developed a pattern of opportunistic foraging as they moved west that allowed them as much time as possible for traveling. Though an occasional meal was skimpy, they seldom missed one entirely, but with so little fat in their diet and the constant exercise every day, they did lose weight. They didn’t talk about it often, but they were both getting weary of the traveling and longed to reach their destination. During the day, they didn’t talk much at all.
Riding the horses, or walking and leading them, Ayla and Jondalar often went single-file, close enough to hear a comment if it was spoken in a loud voice, but not close enough for casual conversation. As a result, they both had long stretches of quiet time to think their own thoughts, which they sometimes talked about in the evening when they were eating or lying together side by side in their sleeping furs.
Ayla often thought about their recent experiences. She had been thinking about the Camp of the Three Sisters, comparing the S’Armunai and their cruel leaders, like Attaroa and Brugar, with their relatives, the Mamutoi, and their cooperative and friendly sister-brother coleaders. And she wondered about the Zelandonii, the people of the man she loved. Jondalar had so many good qualities, she felt sure they had to be basically good people, but considering their feelings toward the Clan, she still wondered how they would accept her. Even S’Armuna had made oblique references to their strong aversion to the ones they called flatheads, but she felt sure no Zelandonii would ever be as cruel as the woman who had been the leader of the S’Armunai.
“I don’t know how Attaroa could do the things she did, Jondalar,” Ayla remarked as they were finishing an evening meal. “It makes me wonder.”
“What do you wonder about?”
“My kind of people, the Others. When I first met you, I was so grateful just to finally find someone like me. It was a relief to know I wasn’t the only one in the world. Then, when you turned out to be so wonderful, so good and caring and loving, I thought all of my kind of people would be like you,” she said, “and it made me feel good.” She was going to add, until he reacted with such disgust when she told him about her life with the Clan, but she changed her mind when she saw Jondalar smiling, flushed with embarrassed delight, obviously pleased.
He had felt a rush of warmth at her words, thinking that she was pretty wonderful, too.
“Then, when we met the Mamutoi, Talut and the Lion Camp,” Ayla continued, “I was sure the Others were all good people. They helped each other, and everyone had a voice in the decisions. They were friendly and laughed a lot, and they didn’t reject an idea just because they hadn’t heard about it before. There was Frebec, of course, but he turned out not to be so bad, either. Even those at the Summer Meeting who sided against me for a while because of the Clan, and even some of the Sharamudoi, did it out of misplaced fear, not evil intentions. But Attaroa was as vicious as a hyena.”
“Attaroa was only one person,” Jondalar reminded her.
“Yes, but look how many she influenced. S’Armuna used her sacred knowledge to help Attaroa kill and hurt people, even if she did feel sorry about it later, and Epadoa was willing to do anything Attaroa said,” Ayla said.
“They had reasons for it. The women had been badly treated,” Jondalar said.
“I know the reasons. S’Armuna thought she was doing the right thing, and I think Epadoa loved to hunt and loved Attaroa for letting her do it. I know that feeling. I love to hunt, too, and I went against the Clan and did things I wasn’t supposed to so I could hunt.”
“Well, Epadoa can hunt for the whole Camp now, and I don’t think she was so bad,” Jondalar said. “She seemed to be discovering the kind of love a mother feels. Doban told me she promised him she would never hurt him again and would never let anyone else hurt him,” Jondalar said. “Her feelings for him may be even stronger because she hurt him so much and now she has a chance to make up