The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [46]
5
I want to get my comb and I think I still have some dried ceanothus flowers left, to wash my hair,” Ayla said, opening her traveling packs. “And the chamois skin from Roshario to dry off with,” she added, pulling it out.
Wolf was bounding toward the entry and back to them again, as though urging them to hurry.
“I think Wolf knows we’re going swimming,” Jondalar said. “I sometimes think that animal can understand language, even if he can’t speak it.”
“I’ll take my change of clothes so I have something clean to put on, and why don’t we spread out the sleeping furs before we go,” Ayla said, putting down her towel and other things, and pulling loose the ties of another bundle.
They quickly made a sleeping place and set out the few other possessions they had with them, then Ayla shook out the tunic and short pants she had been keeping aside. She examined the outfit closely. It was made of soft, supple buckskin, cut in a simple Mamutoi style, but was undecorated, and though clean, it was stained. Even with washing, it was difficult to get stains out of the velvety-textured nap of the leather, but it was the only thing she had to wear to the feast. Traveling limited the amount one could take, even with horses to help with transport, and she had wanted to bring other things that were more important to her than changes of clothing.
Ayla noticed that Marthona was watching her and said, “This is all I have to wear tonight. I hope it will be all right. I couldn’t bring much with me. Roshario gave me a beautiful decorated outfit made in the Sharamudoi style out of that wonderful leather they make, but I gave it to Madenia, that young Losadunai woman who was attacked so brutally.”
“That was kind of you,” the woman said.
“I had to lighten my load anyway, and Madenia seemed so pleased, but now I wish I had one like it. It would be nice to dress for the feast tonight in something a little less worn. Once we get settled, I’ll have to make some clothes.” She smiled at the woman and looked around. “It’s still hard to believe we’re finally here.”
“It’s hard for me to believe, too,” Marthona said, then after a pause, “I would like to help you make some clothes, if you wouldn’t object.”
“No, I wouldn’t object at all. I’d appreciate it.” Ayla smiled. “Everything you have here is so beautiful, Marthona, and I don’t know what is appropriate for Zelandoni women to wear.”
“Can I help, too?” Folara added. “Mother’s ideas about clothes are not always what younger women like.”
“I’d love to have help from both of you, but this will have to do for now,” Ayla said, holding up her worn outfit.
“It will certainly be fine for tonight,” Marthona said. Then she nodded to herself, as though making a decision. “I have something I would like to give you, Ayla. It’s in my sleeping room.”
Ayla followed Marthona into her room. “I have been saving this for you for a long time,” the woman said as she opened a covered wooden box.
“But you just met me!” Ayla exclaimed.
“For the woman Jondalar would someday choose for a mate. It belonged to Dalanar’s mother.” She held out a necklace.
Ayla caught her breath with surprise, and with some hesitation took the proffered necklace. She examined it cautiously. It was made of matched shells, perfect deer teeth, and finely carved heads of female deer made from ivory. A lustrous yellowish orange pendant hung at the center.
“It is beautiful,” Ayla breathed. She felt particularly drawn to the pendant, and she looked at it carefully. It was shiny, polished from being worn and handled. “This is amber, isn’t it?”
“Yes. That stone has been in the family for many generations. Dalanar’s mother made it into this necklace. She gave it to me when Jondalar was born and told me to give it to the woman he chose.”
“Amber is not cold like other stones,” Ayla said, holding the pendant in her hand. “It feels warm, as though it has a living spirit.”
“How interesting that you should say that. Dalanar’s mother always said this piece had life,” Marthona said. “Try it on. See how it looks