The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [449]
Joplaya was a stunningly beautiful woman.
“I am pleased to greet you,” Ayla said. “Jondalar has spoken of you so often.”
‘ “I’m pleased he didn’t forget me, altogether,” Joplaya replied. She stepped back and Jondalar’s arm found her waist again.
Others had crowded around, and Ayla went through a formal greeting with each member of the Cave. They were all curious about the woman Jondalar had brought back, but their scrutiny and questions made her uncomfortable, and she was glad when Jerika intervened.
“I think we should save some questions for later. I’m sure they both have many stories to tell, but they must be tired. Come, Ayla, I will show you where you can stay. Do the animals require anything special?”
“I just need to remove their loads and find a place for them to graze. Wolf will stay inside with us, if you don’t object,” Ayla said.
She saw that Jondalar was deep in conversation with Joplaya, and she unloaded the packs from both horses herself, but he hurried over to help her take their things into the cave.
“I think I know just the place for the horses,” he said. “I’ll take them there. Do you want to keep the lead on Whinney? I’m going to tie Racer down with a long rope.”
“No, I don’t think so. She’ll stay near Racer.” Ayla noticed that he was feeling so entirely comfortable, he didn’t even have to ask. But why not? These people were his kin. “I’ll go with you, though. To settle her in.”
They walked to a small grassy dell with a creek running through it that was off around the side. Wolf came with them. After he tied Racer’s lead securely, Jondalar started back. “Are you coming?” he asked.
“I’ll stay with Whinney a little longer,” she said.
“Why don’t I go carry our things in, then?”
“Yes, go ahead.” He seemed eager to get back, not that she blamed him. She signaled the wolf to stay with her. Everything was new to him, too. They all needed some time to settle in, except for Jondalar. When she returned she looked for him and found him deep in conversation with Joplaya. She hesitated to interrupt.
“Ayla,” he said, when he noticed her. “I was telling Joplaya about Wymez. Later, will you show her the spear point he gave you?”
She nodded. Jondalar turned back to Joplaya. “Wait until you see it. The Mamutoi are excellent mammoth hunters, they tip their spears with flint instead of bone. It pierces thick hides better, especially if the blades are thin. Wymez developed a new technique. The point is bifacially knapped, but not like a crude axehead. He heats the stone—that makes the difference. Finer, thinner flakes sheer off. He can make a point that is longer than my hand with a cross-section so thin and an edge so sharp, you won’t believe it.”
They were standing so close together their bodies were touching as Jondalar excitedly explained the details of the new technique, and their casual intimacy made Ayla uneasy. They had lived together during their adolescent years. What secrets had he told her? What joys and sorrows had they known together? What frustrations and triumphs had they shared as they both learned the difficult art of knapping flint? How much better did Joplaya know him than she did?
Before, they had both been strangers to the people they met on their Journey. Now, only she was a stranger.
He turned back to Ayla. “Why don’t I go and get that point? What basket was it in?” he asked, already on his way.
She told him and smiled nervously at the dark-haired woman after he left, but neither of them spoke. Jondalar was back almost instantly.
“Joplaya, I told Dalanar to come—I’ve been wanting to show him this point. Wait until you see it.”
He carefully opened the wrapped package and uncovered a beautifully made flint point just as Dalanar came up. At the sight of the fine spear point, Dalanar took it from Jondalar and examined it closely.
“It’s a masterwork!