The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [390]
Then, in the end, when she came to him, he could hardly believe it. He laid her down carefully on their sleeping platform, looked at her and saw the love in her eyes, and felt an aching soreness in his throat as he held back tears. He had done everything Losaduna had said, given her every chance, even tried to encourage her, but she had come to him. He wondered if that was a sign from the Mother telling him that if Ayla became pregnant, it would be a child of his spirit?
He changed the position of the movable privacy screens, and when she started to get up and remove her clothes, he gently pushed her back down. “Tonight is mine,” he said. “I want to do it all.”
She lay back down and nodded with a little smile, feeling a thrill of anticipation. He went outside the screens, brought back a lighted stick, lit a small lamp, and set it in a niche. It didn’t shed much light, just enough to barely see. He started to remove her clothes, then stopped.
“Do you think we could find our way to the hot springs with this?” he asked, indicating the lamp.
“They say it drains a man, makes his manhood soften,” Ayla said.
“Believe me, that won’t happen tonight,” he said, with a grin.
“Then I think it might be fun,” she said.
They put on their parkas, picked up the lamp, and quietly headed outside. Losaduna wondered if they were going to relieve themselves, then thought again, and he smiled. The hot springs had never slowed him down for very long. It just gave him a little extra measure of control sometimes. But Losaduna was not the only one watching them go.
Children were never excluded from Mother Festivals. They learned the skills and activities they were expected to know as adults by watching adults. When they played games, they often mimicked their elders, and before they were actually capable of any serious sexual acts, boys bounced on girls in imitation of their fathers, and girls pretended to give birth to dolls in imitation of their mothers. Soon after they were capable, they passed into adulthood with rituals that not only brought them adult status but adult responsibilities, although they didn’t necessarily choose a mate for several years. Babies were born in their own time, when the Mother chose to bless a woman, but surprisingly were seldom born to very young women. All babies were welcomed, supported, and cared for by the extended family and close friends that made up a Cave.
Madenia had observed Mother Festivals as long as she could remember, but this time it took on new meaning. She had watched several of the couples—it did not seem to hurt anyone, not the way she had been hurt, even when some of the women chose several men—but she was particularly interested in Ayla and Jondalar. As soon as they left the cave, she put on her parka and followed them.
They found their way to the double-walled tent and went into the second enclosure, welcoming the steamy warmth. They stood just inside, looked around, then put the lamp down on the raised earth altar. They took off their outer parkas and sat down on the felted wool pads that covered the ground.
Jondalar began by taking off Ayla’s boots; then he removed his own. He kissed her long and lovingly, while he undid the fastenings on her tunic and undergarment, and pulled them up over her head, then bent down to kiss each nipple. He untied her fur-lined leggings and breech-cloutlike underwear and pulled them off, stopping to caress her mound covered with soft hair—they hadn’t bothered to put on their outer leggings with the fur facing out. Then he undressed himself and took her in his arms, delighting in the feel of her skin next to his, and wanted her that instant.
He led her into the steaming pool, they immersed once, then went to the