The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [76]
“You don’t think she’s going to be interested in someone whose mother was half flathead, do you?” Charezal said.
There was a gasp from the crowd and a sudden silence. No one had openly made such a reference to Brukeval in years. His face distorted with a venomous look of pure hatred as he glared at the young man in a barely controlled rage. Ayla was stunned to see the transformation. She had seen that kind of rage from a man of the Clan once before, and it frightened her.
But this was not the first time someone had poked fun at Brukeval like that. He had felt especially sensitive to Ayla’s predicament when she was laughed at for wearing the clothes Marona and her friends had given to her. Brukeval had been the butt of cruel jokes, too. He had wanted to run to her, protect her, as Jondalar did, and when he saw the way she stood up to their laughter, tears had come to his eyes. As he’d watched her walk so proudly and face them all down, he had lost his heart to her.
Later, though he ached to talk to her, he suffered agonies of indecision and hesitated to introduce himself. Women didn’t always respond favorably to him, and he would rather have admired her from a distance than see her look at him with the disdain some beautiful women did. But after watching her for some time, he finally decided to take a chance. And then, she had been so nice to him! She had seemed to welcome his presence. Her smile had been so warm and receptive, it made her even more beautiful.
In the silence after Charezal’s remark, Brukeval watched Jondalar move up behind Ayla, hovering protectively. He envied Jondalar. He had always envied Jondalar, who was even taller than most. Though he had never taken part in the sport of name-calling, and had in fact defended him more than once, he felt that Jondalar pitied him, and that was worse. Now Jondalar had come home with this beautiful woman that everyone admired. Why were some people so favored?
But his glare at Charezal had upset Ayla more than he could know. She hadn’t seen an expression like that since she left Brun’s clan; it reminded her of Broud, the son of Brun’s mate, who had often looked at her like that. Though Brukeval was not angry at her, she shuddered at the memory and wanted to get away.
She turned to Jondalar. “Let’s go. I’m tired,” she said under her breath in Mamutoi, and realized that she really was—exhausted, in fact. They had just completed a long, hard Journey, and so much had happened, it was hard to believe they had arrived only that day. There had been the anxiety of meeting Jondalar’s family and the sadness of telling them about Thonolan’s death; the unpleasantness of Marona’s joke as well as the excitement of meeting all the people of this large Cave; and now Brukeval. It was too much.
Jondalar could see that the incident between Brukeval and Charezal had distressed her, and he had some idea why. “It has been a long day,” he said. “I think it’s time for us to go.”
Brukeval seemed upset that they were leaving so soon after he had finally gotten up the courage to talk to her. He smiled hesitantly. “Do you have to go?” he asked.
“It’s late. Many people have already gone to bed, and I am tired,” she said, smiling back at him. Without that malevolent expression, she could smile at him, but it lacked the earlier warmth. They said good night to the people nearby, but when she looked back, she noticed Brukeval glaring again at Charezal.
As she and Jondalar walked back toward the dwellings and Marthona’s place, Ayla asked, “Did you see the way your cousin was looking at Charezal? It was filled with hate.”
“I can’t say I blame him for being upset at Charezal,” he said. Jondalar had not exactly warmed to the man, either. “You know it’s a terrible insult to call someone a flathead, and even worse to say someone