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The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [79]

By Root 2169 0
a temper, but I was sure she would find someone else while I was gone. She is very attractive, everyone always said she was the Beauty of the Bunch, the most desirable woman at every Summer Meeting. I guess that’s why everyone expected us to mate,” he said.

“Because you were the most handsome and she was the most beautiful?” Ayla asked.

“I suppose,” he said, feeling himself flush and glad for the faint light. “I don’t know why she isn’t mated now.”

“She said she was, but it didn’t last.”

“I know. But why didn’t she find someone else? It’s not like she suddenly forgot how to Pleasure a man, or became less attractive and desirable.”

“Maybe she did, Jondalar. If you didn’t want her, maybe other men decided to look again. A woman who is willing to hurt someone she doesn’t even know may be less attractive than you think,” Ayla said as she pulled the leggings off one leg.

Jondalar frowned. “I hope it’s not my fault. It’s bad enough that I left her in such a predicament. I would hate to think I made it impossible for her to find another mate.”

Ayla looked at him quizzically. “Why would you think that?”

“Didn’t you say that maybe if I didn’t want her, other men…”

“Other men might look again. If they didn’t like what they saw, how is that your fault?”

“Well … ah …”

“You can blame yourself for leaving without explaining. I’m sure she was hurt and embarrassed. But she has had five years to find someone else, and you said she is considered very desirable. If she couldn’t find someone else, it’s not your fault, Jondalar,” Ayla said.

Jondalar paused, then nodded. “You’re right,” he said, and continued removing his clothing. “Let’s go to sleep. Things will look better in the morning.”

As she crawled into her warm and comfortable sleeping furs, Ayla had another thought. “If Marona is so good at ‘Pleasuring,’ I wonder why she doesn’t have any children?”

Jondalar chuckled. “I hope you are right about Doni’s Gift making children. It would be like two Gifts …” He stopped as he was lifting his side of the covers. “But you’re right! She doesn’t have any children.”

“Don’t hold the cover up like that! It’s cold!” she said in a loud whisper.

He quickly got into the sleeping roll and snuggled his naked body next to hers. “That could be the reason she never mated,” he continued, “or at least part of it. When a man decides to mate, he usually wants a woman who can bring children to his hearth. A woman can have children, and stay at her mother’s hearth, or even make her own hearth, but the only way a man can have children at his hearth is to mate a woman so she can bring her children to it. If Marona mated and didn’t have any children, it could make her less desirable.”

“That would be a shame,” Ayla said, feeling a sudden stab of empathy. She knew how much she wanted children. She had wanted a baby of her own from the time she watched Iza give birth to Uba, and she was sure that it was Broud’s hatred that had given her one. It was his hatred that had caused him to force her, and if he hadn’t forced her, no new life would have started growing inside her.

She didn’t know it at the time, of course, but looking closely at her son had made her understand. Brun’s clan had never seen a child like hers, and since her son didn’t look quite like her—like the Others—they thought he was a deformed child of the Clan; but she could see he was a mixture. He had some of her characteristics and some of theirs, and with a sudden insight, she had realized that when a man put his organ in that place where babies came from, somehow it made new life start. It wasn’t what the Clan believed, and it wasn’t what Jondalar’s people or any of the Others believed, but Ayla was convinced it was true.

Lying next to Jondalar, knowing she was carrying his baby inside her, Ayla felt a pang of pity and sorrow for the woman who had lost him and, perhaps, could not have children. Could she really blame Marona for being upset? How would she feel if she lost Jondalar? Tears threatened at the thought, and a flush of warmth at her good fortune washed over her.

It was a nasty

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