The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [252]
He glanced down and saw the fresh tracks of the horses. He was too experienced a tracker not to notice the direction they had taken, and he knew they had not headed off away from camp. It looked as if they were following the creek upstream. He recalled the pleasing little glen at the head of the small waterway, with the spring-fed pond and the grassy meadow. That’s probably where they went, he thought, smiling to himself. Since he had been sent on a mission to find them, he didn’t like returning without them.
He followed the creek, checking the tracks as he went to make sure they hadn’t veered off, and when he saw the horses ahead, grazing contentedly, he knew he’d found them. When he reached the screen of hazelnut shrubs, some as tall as trees, he peered through and, seeing only Ayla, wondered where his brother was. When he reached the sandy bank, she was just ducking under the water, and he called to her when she came up for air.
“Ayla, I’ve been looking for you.”
Ayla pushed back her hair and rubbed her eyes. Oh, Joharran, it’s you,” she said in a tone of voice he couldn’t quite identify.
“Do you know where Jondalar is?”
“Yes, he was looking for flint in the rock pile behind the pond, and went to get the stones he found. Then he was going to come and bathe with me,” Ayla said, seeming a little disconcerted.
“Zelandoni wants to see you, and Willamar wanted to talk to you both,” Joharran said.
Oh,” she said, sounding rather disappointed.
Joharran had often seen women without clothes on. Most of them bathed in The River every morning in the summer and washed themselves in winter. Nakedness by itself was not considered especially suggestive. Women wore special clothing or accoutrements that were meant to be inviting when they wanted to show interest in a man, or behaved in certain ways, especially at a festival to honor the Mother. But as Ayla started out of the water, it occurred to him that she and his brother had had other plans, which he’d interrupted. The thought made him aware of her body as she approached him, walking out of the water.
She was tall, with shapely curves and well-defined muscles. Her large breasts still had the firmness of a young woman, and he’d always found a woman with a slightly rounded stomach appealing. Marona has always been considered the Beauty of the Bunch, he thought, no wonder she took such a dislike to Ayla from the beginning. She looked good in that winter underwear she got tricked into wearing, but that was nothing compared to really seeing her. Marona doesn’t compare. My brother is a lucky man, he thought. Ayla is a fine-looking woman. But she is going to get a lot of attention at Mother Festivals, and I’m not sure how Jondalar will like that.
Ayla was looking at him with a puzzled expression, and it made Joharran realize that he’d been staring. He flushed slightly and looked away, and saw his brother coming, carrying a heavy load of stones. He went to help him.
“What are you doing here?” Jondalar said.
“Zelandoni wants to talk to Ayla, and Willamar would like to talk to both of you,” Joharran said.
“What does Zelandoni want? Can’t it wait?” Jondalar said.
“She didn’t seem to think so. Chasing down my brother and his Promised is not the way I planned to spend the day, either. Don’t worry, Jondalar,” Joharran said with a conspiratorial grin. “You’ll just have to wait a while. And