The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [300]
“And you won’t have to do any cooking. We had guests for a morning meal, and have plenty left over,” Proleva said.
“We’ll be glad to camp beside the Ninth Cave,” Dalanar said, “but what made you decide to pick this place? You usually like to be in the thick of things, Joharran.”
“By the time we arrived, all the best places in the main camp were taken, especially for a Cave as big as ours, and we didn’t want to be crowded. We looked around and found this, and I like it better,” Joharran said. “See those trees? That’s just the beginning of a good-size grove with plenty of firewood. This creek starts up there, too, in a clear spring. Long after everyone else’s water is muddy and churned up, we’ll still have good water, and there’s a nice pool. Jondalar and Ayla like it here, too, there’s space for the horses. We made a place for them upstream. That’s where Ayla went, with her guests. She’s the one who invited them.”
“Who are they?” Dalanar asked. He couldn’t help but be curious about whom Ayla would invite.
“Do you remember that woman from the Nineteenth Cave who gave birth to the boy with the deformed arm? Mardena? Her mother is Denoda,” Marthona said.
“Yes, I do,” Dalanar said.
“The boy, Lanidar, can now count almost twelve years,” she said. “I’m still not sure how it came about, but I think he came up here to get away from all the people and probably some teasing from the other boys. I guess someone told him there were horses here. Everyone is interested in them, of course, and the boy is no exception. Somehow Ayla met him and decided to ask him to keep an eye on the horses for her. She’s concerned that with all the people here, someone, not realizing how special they are, might try to hunt them. It would be easy, they don’t run away.”
“That’s true,” Dalanar said. “Too bad we can’t make all animals that docile.”
“Ayla didn’t think that the boy’s mother might object, but it seems she’s very protective,” Marthona said. “She won’t even let him learn to hunt, or doesn’t think he can. So Ayla invited the boy and his mother and grandmother here to see the horses to try to convince her that they won’t hurt him. And only one good arm or not, she’s also decided that she’s going to teach him to use Jondalar’s new spear-thrower,” she said.
“She does have a mind of her own,” Jerika said. “I noticed that, but she’s not unkind.”
“No, she’s not, and she’s not afraid to stand up for herself, or to speak up for others,” Proleva said.
“Here they come,” Joharran said.
They saw a group of people, and a wolf, coming toward them, Jondalar in the lead, his sister close behind. They had all been walking at the pace of the slowest, but when he saw Dalanar and the others, Jondalar rushed ahead. The man of his hearth came toward him. They grabbed hands, then let go and hugged each other. The older man put his arm around the shoulders of the younger man as they walked back, side by side.
The similarity between the two men was uncanny; they could have been the same man at two different stages of his life. The older one was a tad thicker at the waist, his hair a little thinner on top, but the face was the same, though the brow of the younger was not as deeply etched, and the jowls of the older were getting soft. They matched each other in height, walked with the same step, and moved the same way; even their eyes were the same vivid shade of glacier blue.
“There is no doubt which man’s spirit was chosen when the Mother created him,” Mardena said quietly to her mother, nodding her head at Jondalar as the visitors neared the camp. Lanidar saw Lanoga and went to talk to her.
“Dalanar looked just like him when he was young, and he hasn’t changed much,” Denoda said. “He’s still a most handsome man.”
Mardena was watching with great interest as Ayla and Wolf were greeted by the new arrivals. It was obvious they all knew each other, but she couldn’t help but stare at some of the people. The black-haired, tiny woman with the strange face seemed to be with the tall, blond older man who resembled Jondalar, perhaps as