The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [398]
“It’s the best surprise I ever had,” she said, tears threatening to well up again.
“You know, Ayla,” he said, suddenly looking serious, “if you ever throw out the stones of my hearth, I will have to return to my mother’s dwelling, or go someplace else. It would mean that you want to sever the knot of our joining.”
“How can you even say that, Jondalar? I would never want to do that!” she said, looking appalled.
“If you had been born a Zelandonii, I wouldn’t have to say it. You would know. I just want to make sure you understand. This dwelling is yours, and your children’s, Ayla. Only the hearth is mine,” Jondalar explained.
“But you were the one who made it. How can it be mine?”
“If I want your children to be born to my hearth, it is my responsibility to provide a place for you and your children to live. A place that will be yours no matter what happens,” he said.
“You mean you were required to make a dwelling for me?” she asked.
“Not exactly. I am required to make sure you have a place to live, but I wanted to give you your own home. We could have stayed with my mother. It’s not unusual when young men are first mated. Or if you were Zelandonii, we could have arranged to stay with your mother, or some other of your kin, until I could provide you with a place of your own. In that case, I would be obligated to your kin, of course.”
“I didn’t understand that you would be taking on so much obligation for me when we joined,” Ayla said.
“It’s not just for a woman, it’s for the children. They can’t take care of themselves, they must be provided for. Some people live with kin all their lives, often with a woman’s mother. When the mother dies, her home belongs to her children, but if one has been living with her, that one has first claim. If a mother’s home becomes her daughter’s, her mate doesn’t have to provide one, but he may be obligated to his mate’s siblings. If the home becomes a son’s, he may owe his own siblings.”
“I think I still have a lot to learn about the Zelandonii,” Ayla said, frowning at the thought.
“And I still have a lot to learn about you, Ayla,” he said, reaching for her again. She was more than willing. He could feel himself wanting her as they kissed and could sense her responding to him.
“Wait here,” he said.
He went out and returned with their sleeping furs. He untied the rolls and spread them out on the platform. Wolf watched from the middle of the empty main room, then lifted his head and howled.
“I think he’s feeling unsettled. He wants to know where he is supposed to sleep,” Ayla said.
“I think I’d better go to my mother’s dwelling and get his bedding. Don’t go away,” Jondalar said, smiling at her. He returned quickly and set Ayla’s old clothing that was Wolf’s bedding and his feeding bowl by the entrance. The wolf sniffed at them, then circled around and curled up on them.
Jondalar went to the woman who was still waiting by the fire, picked her up and carried her to the sleeping platform, and put her down on top of the furs. He began to slowly undress her, and she started to untie a cord to help.
“No. I want to do it, Ayla. It would please me,” he said.
She put her hand down. He continued undressing her slowly, tenderly, then removed his own clothing and crawled in beside her. And gently, with exquisite tenderness, he made love to her half the night.
The Cave quickly settled down into their usual routine. It was a glorious autumn. The grasses of the fields rippled in golden waves in the brisk wind, and trees near The River blazed with brilliant shades of yellows and reds. Bushes were heavy with ripe berries, apples were rosy but tart, waiting for the first frost to turn sweet, nuts were dropping from the trees. While the weather held, the days were filled with gathering the season’s bounty of fruits, nuts, berries, roots, and herbs. After the temperatures at night dropped below freezing, hunting parties went out regularly to stock up on a supply of fresh meat to supplement the