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The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [349]

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breasts, who is going to be a mother.

She had been so happy to see him coming for her with his torch to lead her out of that cave, and she had said if it weren’t for Jondalar, she would consider him, but she didn’t mean it. When Jondalar and that flathead came, she made it known that she thought he was a flathead just like that one from the Lanzadonii. I don’t know how Dalanar could even allow that flathead to look at the daughter of his mate, much less to mate her. That’s wrong. He is an abomination, half animal, half human. It shouldn’t be allowed. Joplaya seemed like a decent young woman, she was quiet, and she’d always been nice to him, but how could she consider mating that flat-head? It’s just not right. Someone should stop it, Brukeval thought.

Maybe I should. If Ayla thought about it, she would know I was doing the right thing. It might make her appreciate me. I wonder if she really would consider me if something happened, if Jondalar wasn’t there anymore? If something happened to Jondalar, I wonder, would she consider me, someday?

32

Levela and Jondecam held up their joined hands in welcome when Ayla and Jondalar arrived at the waiting area. “Did she say you were already Blessed, Ayla?” Levela said, rushing toward her.

Ayla nodded, a little too overcome with emotion to trust herself to talk.

Oh, Ayla! That’s wonderful! Why didn’t you tell me? Did Jondalar know? You are so lucky!” she said, not giving Ayla time to answer and trying to give her a hug. But she forgot for a moment about the hand to which she was tied and got tangled up with Jondecam’s arm. They all laughed, including some who were nearby, and Levela ended up giving Ayla a one-arm hug.

“And your outfit is so beautiful, Ayla. I’ve never seen anything like it. It has so many ivory beads and ambers, in places it almost seems to be made out of ivory and amber. The leather is the perfect shade of yellow to go with it. And I love the way you wear it, open like that, especially since you are going to be a mother soon. It must be heavy, though. Where did you get it?” Levela said. She was so excited, Ayla had to smile.

“Yes, it is heavy, but I’m used to it. I carried it a long way. Nezzie gave this to me when she thought I was going to be mating a Mamutoi man, and she told me how to wear it. She was the mate of the headman of the Lion Camp. When I decided to leave with Jondalar instead, she told me to take it and wear it when I mated him. She liked him, they all did. They wanted him to stay and become Mamutoi, but he said he needed to go home. I think I understand why,” Ayla said. Several people were crowded around, listening. They wanted to be able to tell people what the foreign woman said about her richly made clothes.

“Jondalar looks wonderful, too,” Levela said. “Your outfit is exquisite because of the beadwork and decorations, the whole thing. Jondalar’s is a perfect contrast, stunning just because of the color.”

“That’s right,” Jondecam said. “All of us are wearing our best clothes,” he indicated his own clothing, “which usually means decorated, though no one has anything as incredible as your outfit, Ayla, but when Jondalar came out wearing that, everybody noticed. His tunic is simple elegance, especially on him. I know how these things work. All the women are going to want an outfit like yours, and all the men will want something white like his. Did someone give that to you, Jondalar?”

“Ayla did,” Jondalar said.

“Ayla! Did you make that?” Levela said, surprised.

“A Mamutoi woman taught me how to make white leather,” Ayla said. People were turning around, facing the next Zelandoni.

“We better stop talking, they are getting started,” Levela said.

After they quieted so the ceremony for the next couple could begin, Ayla thought about why the mating ritual included tying the wrists of the couples together with a thong that would be difficult to untie. The tangle of arms when Levela, in her excitement, rushed to hug her made her understand that being tied together forced one to consider the other before rushing ahead without thinking.

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