The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [469]
The directness that was typical of the Mamutoi still caught Jondalar by surprise, even after all the time he’d lived with them, especially when it came from a stranger. The headman’s question would have been thought somewhat impolite among Jondalar’s people; not a major indiscretion, just a sign of immaturity, or lack of appreciation for the more subtle and indirect speech of knowing adults.
But, Jondalar had learned, candor and directness were considered proper among the Mamutoi, and lack of openness was suspect, though their ways were not as completely open as they seemed. Subtleties existed. It was a matter of how one expressed directness, how it was received, and what was not said. But the forthright curiosity of the headman of this Camp was, among the Mamutoi, entirely appropriate.
“I am going home,” Jondalar said, “and I’m bringing this woman back with me.”
“Why should a day or two make any difference?”
“My home is far to the west. I’ve been gone …”Jondalar stopped to consider, “four years, and it will take another year to get back, if we are lucky. There are some dangerous crossings—rivers and ice—along the way, and I don’t want to reach them at the wrong season.”
“West? It looks like you’re traveling south.”
“Yes. We are heading for Beran Sea and the Great Mother River. We will follow her upstream.”
“My cousin went west on a trading mission, some years back. He said some people there live near a river they also call the Great Mother,” the man said. “He thought it was the same one. They traveled west from here. Depends how far upstream you want to go, but there is a passage south of the Great Ice, but north of the mountains to the west. You might make your Journey much shorter by going that way.”
“Talut told me of the northern route, but no one seems to be sure that it is the same river. If it’s not, it could take longer trying to find the right one. I came the southern way, and I know that route. Besides, I have kin among the River People. My brother was mated to a Sharamudoi woman, and I lived with them. I’d like to see them once more. It’s not likely that I will ever see them again.”
“We trade with the River People … seems to me I did hear about some strangers, a year or two ago, living with that group that a Mamutoi woman joined. It was two brothers, now that I think about it. The Sharamudoi have different mating customs, but as I recall, she and her mate were going to be joining with another couple—some kind of an adoption, I suppose. They sent word inviting any Mamutoi relations who wanted to come. Several went, and one or two have gone back since.”
“That was my brother, Thonolan,” Jondalar said, pleased that the account tended to verify his story, although he still could not say his brother’s name without feeling pain. “It was his Matrimonial. He joined with Jetamio, and they became cross-mates with Markeno and Tholie. Tholie was the one who first taught me to speak Mamutoi.”
“Tholie is a distant cousin of mine, and you are the brother of one of her mates?” The man turned to his sister. “Thurie, this man is kin. I think we must welcome them.” Without waiting for an answer, he said, “I am Rutan, headman of Falcon Camp. In the name of Mut, the Great Mother, you are welcome.”
The woman had no choice. She would not embarrass her brother by refusing to extend a welcome along with him, though she thought of a few choice things to say to him privately. “I am Thurie, headwoman of Falcon Camp. In the name of the Mother, you are welcome here. In summer, we are Feather Grass Camp.”
It was not the warmest welcome he had ever received. Jondalar detected a definite reservation and restriction. She was welcoming him “here,” to this place specifically, but this was a temporary location. He knew Feather Grass Camp referred to any summer hunting camp site. The Mamutoi were sedentary in the winter, and this group, like the rest, lived in a permanent encampment or community of one or two large or several smaller semisubterranean earthlodges, which they called Falcon Camp. She had not welcomed