The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [377]
“Filonia!” several people chorused.
Laronia and Laduni rushed toward her, joined by all the rest of the Cave. The young woman was obviously not a stranger here. After happy hugs of greeting, Laronia took the baby, and Laduni picked up the little girl, who had run toward him, and put her up on his shoulders. She looked down at everyone with a pleased grin.
Jondalar was standing beside Ayla, smiling at the happy scene. “That girl could be my sister!” he said.
“Filonia, look who’s here,” Laduni said, leading the young woman toward them.
“Jondalar? Is it you?” she said, looking at him with shocked surprise. “I didn’t think you’d ever come back. Where’s Thonolan? There is someone I want him to meet!”
“I’m sorry, Filonia. He walks the next world now,” Jondalar said.
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. I wanted him to meet Thonolia. I’m sure she’s the child of his spirit.”
“I am sure, too. She looks just like my sister, and they were both born to the same hearth. I wish my mother could see her, but I think it will please her to know that there is something left of him in this world, a child of his spirit,” Jondalar said.
The young woman noticed Ayla. “But you didn’t return alone,” she said.
“No, he didn’t,” Laduni said, “and wait until you see some of his other traveling companions. You won’t believe it.”
“And you came at just the right time. We’re having a Mother Festival tomorrow,” Laronia said.
37
The people of the Cave of the Sacred Hot Springs were anticipating the Festival to Honor the Mother with great enthusiasm. In the deep of winter, when life was usually most dull and boring, Ayla and Jondalar had arrived and provoked enough excitement to keep the Cave stimulated for a long time, and with the inevitable storytelling that would result, the interest would last for years. From the moment they rode up, sitting on the backs of horses and followed by the Wolf Who Liked Children, everyone had been buzzing with speculation. They had enthralling stories to tell about their travels, arresting new ideas to share, and fascinating devices like spear-throwers and thread-pullers to demonstrate.
Now everyone was talking about something magical that the woman would show them during the ceremony, something having to do with fire, like their burning stones. Losaduna had mentioned it while they were eating their evening meal. The visitors had also promised to give a demonstration of the spear-thrower in the field outside the cave so everyone could see its possibilities, and Ayla was going to show what could be done with a sling. But even the promised demonstrations did not pique their curiosity as much as the mystery involving fire.
Ayla discovered that constantly being the center of attention could be as exhausting, in a different kind of way, as constantly traveling. All evening people had plied her with eager questions and sought her opinion and ideas on subjects about which she had no knowledge. By the time the sun was setting, she was tired and didn’t feel like talking any more. Soon after dark she left the gathering around the fire in the central part of the cave to go to bed. Wolf went with her and Jondalar followed shortly afterward, leaving the Cave free to gossip and speculate in their absence.
In the sleeping area allocated to them within the ceremonial and dwelling space of Losaduna, they puttered around with preparations for the next day, then crawled into their furs. Jondalar held her and considered making the initial overtures that Ayla considered his “signal” to couple, but she seemed nervous and distracted, and he wanted to save himself. One never knew what to expect at a Mother Festival, and Losaduna had hinted that it might be a good idea to hold back and wait to honor the Mother until after the special ritual they had planned.
He had spoken with the One Who Served the Mother about his concerns regarding his ability to have children born to his hearth, whether the Great Mother would find his spirit acceptable for a new life. They had decided on a private ritual before the festival