The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [364]
Led by Solandia’s four, all the children had clustered together and were edging toward them and the horses. The fascinating visitors allowed the children to touch or pet one or the other of the horses, and Ayla let a few ride on Whinney’s back, which many of the adults watched with a little envy. Ayla planned to let any adults ride who wanted to try it, but she felt that it was too soon for that. The horses needed rest, and she did not want to put too much strain on them.
With shovels made from large antlers, she and Jondalar began to clear heavy snow away from some of the pasturage nearer the cave, to make it easier for the horses to forage. Several others joined in, making it fast work, but shoveling snow reminded Jondalar of a concern he had been trying to resolve for some time. How were they going to find food and forage, and, more important, enough drinkable water for themselves, a wolf, and two horses while crossing a frozen expanse of glacial ice?
Later in the evening everyone gathered in the large ceremonial space to listen to Jondalar and Ayla tell about their travels and adventures. The Losadunai were particularly interested in the animals. Solandia had already begun to rely on Wolf to keep her children distracted, and watching the wolf playing with them even distracted the adults. It was hard to believe. Ayla didn’t go into detail about the Clan, or the death curse that had forced her to leave, though she did hint at differences that had arisen.
The Losadunai thought the Clan were just a group of people who lived far to the east, and though she tried to explain that the process of making animals accustomed to people was not anything supernatural, no one quite believed her. The idea that just anyone could tame a wild horse or wolf was too hard to accept. Most people assumed that her time of living alone in a valley was a period of trial and abstinence that many who felt called to Serve the Mother endured, and to them her way with animals verified the appropriateness of her Calling. If she wasn’t One Who Served yet, it was only a matter of time.
But the Losadunai were distressed to learn of their visitors’ difficulties with Attaroa and the Sarmunai.
“No wonder we’ve had so few visitors from the east during the past several years. And you say one of the men who was held there was a Losadunai?” Laduni asked.
“Yes. I don’t know what his name was here, but there he was called Ardemun,” Jondalar said. “He had hurt himself and was crippled. He couldn’t walk very well, and he certainly couldn’t run away, so Attaroa let him move around the Camp freely. He’s the one who set the men free.”
“I remember a young man who went on a Journey,” an older woman said. “I did know his name once, but I can’t recall … let me think—he had a nickname … Ardemun … Ardi … no, Mardi. He used to call himself Mardi!”
“You mean Menardi?” a man said. “I remember him from Summer Meetings. He was called Mardi, and he did go on a Journey. So that’s what happened to him. He has a brother who would be glad to know he’s alive.”
“It’s good to know that it’s safe to travel that way again. You were lucky you missed them on your way east,” Laduni said.
“Thonolan was in a hurry to get as far along the Great Mother River as we could. He didn’t want to stop,” Jondalar explained, “and we stayed on this side of the river. We were lucky.” When the gathering broke up, Ayla was glad to go to bed in a warm, dry place with no wind, and she fell asleep quickly.
Ayla smiled at Solandia, who was sitting beside the fireplace nursing Micheri. She had awakened early and decided to make the morning tea for herself and Jondalar. She looked for the pile of wood or dried dung, whatever fuel they used, that was usually kept nearby, but all she saw was a pile of brown stones.
“I want to make some tea,” she said. “What do you burn? If you tell me where it is, I’ll go get it.”
“Don’t have to. Plenty here,