The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [74]
Ayla was surprised at the gentleness in the woman’s voice as she talked to the small boy, and the look of tenderness in her eyes. It made her wonder if Zelandoni had ever wanted children. With her knowledge of medicine, Ayla was sure the donier would know how to dislodge a pregnancy, but it was more difficult to know how to start one or to prevent a miscarriage. I wonder how she thinks new life starts, Ayla thought, or if she knows how to prevent it.
When Proleva picked up the boy to take him to their dwelling, Wolf started to follow. Ayla called him back. “I think you should go to Marthona’s dwelling, Wolf,” she said, giving him a “go home” signal. His home was anyplace that Ayla had laid her furs.
As the chill darkness overwhelmed the region beyond the palliative of firelight, many people left the main celebration area. Some, especially families with young children, retired to personal dwellings. Others, mostly young couples but older people as well and occasionally more than two, were in the shadows around the edges of the fire, involved with each other in more private ways, sometimes talking, sometimes embracing. It was not uncommon to share partners at such events, and as long as all the parties were agreeable, no ill will resulted.
The occasion reminded Ayla of a celebration to Honor the Mother, and if it honored Her to share Her Gift of Pleasure, She seemed to be well honored that evening. The Zelandonii were not so different from the Mamutoi, Ayla thought, or the Sharamudoi, or the Losadunai, and even the language was the same as the Lanzadonii.
Several men tried to enrice the beautiful stranger into sharing the Great Mother’s pleasurable Gift. Ayla enjoyed the attention, but she made it plain that she had no desire for anyone except Jondalar.
He had mixed feelings about all the interest she was getting. He was pleased that she was so well received by his people, and proud that so many men admired the woman he had brought home, but he wished that they would not be so openly eager to take her to their furs—especially that stranger called Charezal—and he was glad that she showed no inclination for anyone else.
Jealousy was not well tolerated by the Zelandonii. It could lead to discord and strife even fighting, and as a community, they valued harmony and cooperation above all else. In a land that was little more than a frozen waste for a large part of the year, willing mutual assistance was essential for survival. Most of their customs and practices were aimed at maintaining goodwill and discouraging anything, such as jealousy, that might jeopardize their amicable relations.
Jondalar knew he would have trouble hiding his jealousy if Ayla chose someone else. He did not want to share her with anyone. Perhaps, after they had been mated for many years and the comfort of habit occasionally gave way to the excitement of someone new, it would be different, but not yet, and in his heart he doubted if he could ever willingly share her.
Some people had started singing and dancing, and Ayla was trying to move in their direction, but everyone around her crowded in close, wanting to talk. One man in particular, who had been hovering around the edge of the group most of the evening, now seemed determined to speak to her. Ayla thought she had noticed someone unusual earlier, but when she tried to focus on him, someone else would ask her a question or make a comment that distracted her.
She looked up as a man handed her another cup of the barma. Though the drink reminded her of Talut’s bouza, this was stronger. She was feeling a bit giddy and decided it was time to stop. She was familiar with the effects such fermented drinks could have on her, and she did not want to get too “friendly” the first time she met Jondalar’s people.
She smiled at the man who had given her the cup in anticipation of politely refusing him, but the shock of seeing him froze the smile on her face for a moment. It quickly became an expression of genuine warmth and friendliness.