The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [385]
Jondalar reached into the niche and gently picked up the Mother figure. It was one of the most beautifully made carvings he had ever seen. Her body was perfectly shaped. The figure in his hand looked as if the sculptor had carved it from a living model of a well-proportioned woman who was quite substantial in size. He had seen naked women often enough, in the normal course of living in close quarters, to know how one looked. The arms, resting on top of the ample breasts of the figure, were only suggested, but even so, fingers were defined, as well as the bracelets on her forearms. Her two legs came together into a kind of peg that went into the ground.
The head was most surprising. Most of the donii he had seen had hardly more than a knob for the head, sometimes with a face defined by the hairline but no features. This one had an elaborate hairstyle of rows of tight knobby curls that went all the way around the head and face. Except for the difference in shape, there was no difference between the back and the front of the head.
When he looked closely, he was surprised to see that it had been carved out of limestone. Ivory or bone or wood were much easier to work, and the figure was so perfectly detailed and beautifully made that it was hard to believe someone had made her out of stone. Many flint tools must have been dulled to make this, he thought.
The One Who Served the Mother had been chanting, Jondalar realized. He had been so involved in studying the donii that he hadn’t noticed it at first, but he had learned enough Losadunai that when he listened carefully, he understood some of the names of the Mother, and he knew that Losaduna had started the ritual. He waited, hoping his appreciation of the material aesthetic qualities of the carving would not distract from the greater spiritual essence of the ceremony. Although the donii was a symbol for the Mother and, it was thought, offered a resting place for one of Her many spirit forms, he knew the carved figure was not the Great Earth Mother.
“Now, think about it clearly, and in your own words, from your heart, ask the Mother for what you want,” Losaduna said. “Holding the dunai will help you to concentrate all your thoughts and feelings into your request. Don’t hesitate to say anything that comes to you. Remember, what you are asking for is pleasing to the Mother of All.”
Jondalar closed his eyes to think about it, to help himself concentrate. “O Doni, Great Earth Mother,” he began. “There have been times in my life when I thought … some things I did may have displeased You. I did not mean to displease You, but … things happened. There was a time when I thought I would never find a woman I could really love, and I wondered if it was because You were angry about … those things.”
Something very bad must have happened in this man’s life. He is such a good man, and he seems so confident; it is hard to believe that he could suffer from so much shame and worry, Losaduna thought.
“Then, after traveling beyond the end of Your river, and losing … my brother, whom I loved more than anyone, You brought Ayla into my life, and finally I knew what it meant to fall in love. I am grateful for Ayla. If there was no one else in my life, no family, no friends, I would be content as long as Ayla was there. But, if it would please You, Great Mother, I would like … I would wish for … one thing more. I would ask for … a child. A child, born to Ayla, born to my hearth, and, if it is possible, born of my spirit, or born of my own essence as Ayla believes. If it is not possible, if my spirit is not … enough, then let Ayla have the baby she wants, and let it be born to my hearth, so it can be mine in my heart.”
Jondalar started to put the donii back, but he wasn’t quite through. He stopped and held the figure in both hands. “One more thing. If Ayla should ever become pregnant with a child of my spirit, I would like to know that it is the child of my spirit.”
Interesting request, Losaduna thought. Most men might like to know, but