The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [178]
“Hello, woman,” he whispered in her ear when he rubbed her cheek with his in greeting, then embraced her. “Where did you go this morning?”
“To empty the night basket,” Ayla said. “When I came back I saw Jonokol and he said Zelandoni wanted us, so I went to ask Folara if she would keep Wolf. She said she’d find some children to keep him occupied. I went down to check on the horses earlier. I heard some other horses nearby. I wonder if we should build a surround of some kind to keep them.”
“Perhaps,” Jondalar said. “Especially when it’s time for Whinney’s Pleasures. I’d hate to have a herd try to capture her, Racer would probably try to follow her.”
“She’ll have her foal first,” Ayla said.
Jonokol listened, interested in hearing about the horses. They had obviously gained knowledge in their association with them. Ayla and Jondalar left with Jonokol. When they reached the stone front porch of the Ninth Cave, Jondalar noticed that the sun was quite high.
“I didn’t know it was so late,” he said. “I wonder why someone didn’t get me up sooner?”
“Zelandoni suggested that you be allowed to sleep since you may be up late tonight,” Jonokol said.
Jondalar took a deep breath and blew it out of his mouth as he shook his head. “Where are we going, by the way?” he said as they walked beside the acolyte along the ledge toward Down River.
“To Fountain Rocks,” Jonokol said.
Jondalar’s eyes opened wide with surprise. Fountain Rocks—a cliff that featured two caves and the immediate area around it—was not the home of any particular Cave of Zelandonii; it was much more important than that. It was one of the most sacred places in the entire region. Though no one lived there regularly, if any group could call it home, it was the zelandonia, the Ones Who Served, for this was a place blessed and sanctified by the Great Earth Mother Herself.
“I am going to stop for a drink of water,” Jondalar said emphatically as they approached the bridge over the creek of fresh spring water that divided the Ninth Cave from Down River. He wasn’t going to let Jonokol talk him out of quenching his thirst, even if he had let the man dissuade him from having his morning cup of mint tea.
Near the streamlet a few feet from the bridge, a post had been pounded into the ground. A drinking cup made of cattail leaves torn into strips and woven watertight was attached to it with a cord; if it wasn’t attached, it was often lost. The cup was changed periodically as it became worn, but as long as Jondalar could remember, one had been there. It had been learned long ago that the sight of the fresh sparkling water invariably inspired thirst, and while a person could bend over and reach in with hands to get a drink, it was much easier to have a cup handy.
They all had a drink, then continued along the well-used trail. They forded The River at the Crossing, and at Two Rivers Rock turned into Grass Valley, crossed the second river, then followed the path alongside it. People from other Caves waved and greeted them as they passed by, but made no attempt to delay them. All the zelandonia of the area, including the acolytes, had already gone to Fountain Rocks, and everyone had a good idea where the two people with Zelandoni’s acolyte were going.
They also had some idea why. In the tight-knit community, word had gotten out that they had brought back something that might help the zelandonia to find the wandering spirit of Jondalar’s dead brother, Thonolan. Though they knew it was important to help guide a newly liberated elan to its proper place in the world of the spirits, the idea of entering the next world before they were called by the Mother was not something most people wanted to do. It was fearful enough to think