The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [337]
“Well, that may be,” the older Zelandoni said, “but one day shouldn’t be too much.”
“And normally it isn’t, but the animals make it an exceptional situation,” the First donier said. “I’m sure we can work something out.”
“Do you object to the wolf coming and going as he chooses?” Marthona said. “The women don’t seem to mind him. We only need to allow the lower part of the entrance drape to stay unfastened.”
“I don’t suppose that would be a problem,” the Fourteenth said.
The Fourteenth had been pleasantly surprised when she met the four-legged hunter. He had licked her hand and seemed to warm to her, and she rather liked petting the fur of the living animal. After some questions, Ayla told the story of how she brought the baby wolf cub home and rescued the little filly from the hyenas. She had insisted that if they were young enough when you found them, many animals could probably become friendly with people. The Fourteenth had noticed how much attention and prestige Wolf brought to the foreign woman and wondered how difficult it would be to befriend an animal, but perhaps a smaller one. The size didn’t matter, any animal that would voluntarily stay in close contact with a person would bring attention.
“Then, it’s just a matter of the horses. Can’t Jondalar attend to them?” Marthona asked.
Of course he can, but I need to tell him that he should. I’m the one who has been doing it since we arrived at the Summer Meeting because he’s been busy with other things,” Ayla said.
“She’s not allowed to communicate with him,” the Fourteenth insisted. “She can’t tell him anything!”
“But someone else can,” Marthona said.
“Not someone involved with the ceremony, I’m afraid. Not anyone who is related,” the Zelandoni of the Nineteenth said. “The Fourteenth is right, of course, and because women no longer stay in seclusion as long, it is even more important that we adhere to the day of seclusion strictly.” The white-haired woman may have been nearly crippled from her arthritis, but it did not limit her strength of character. Ayla had seen that before.
Marthona was glad she hadn’t mentioned that she had given Jondalar the package from Ayla. The zelandonia would have been quite annoyed with her. They could get very adamant about complying with proper customs and behavior during important ceremonies, and while the former leader generally went along with them, privately she felt that exceptions could always be made. Leaders had to learn when to stand fast and when to bend a little.
“Can someone who is not involved with the ceremony be told?” Ayla asked.
“Who do you know that is absolutely not related to either you or your Promised?” the Fourteenth asked.
Ayla thought for a moment. “What about Lanidar? Marthona, is he related to Jondalar in any way?” she asked.
“No … no, he is not. I know that I am not, and Dalanar just mentioned to me on the morning they visited that he had been selected for the boy’s grandmother’s First Rites,” Marthona said. “So he’s not.”
“That’s true,” the Nineteenth said. “I remember that Denoda was quite … overwhelmed by Dalanar. It took her some time to get over him. He handled it well. He was tactful, considerate, but kept his distance. I was impressed.”
“Always,” Marthona said, almost under her breath, and finished in her thoughts, he always was entirely correct, did exactly the right thing.
The Nineteenth wasn’t going to let it go. “Always what? Tactful? Considerate? Impressive?” she asked.
Marthona smiled. “All of them,” she said.
“And Jondalar is the child of his hearth,” the First said.
“Yes,” Marthona said, “but there are differences. The boy doesn’t have quite the tact of the man, but perhaps more heart.”
“No matter what man’s spirit started him, the child always has something of the mother, too,