The valley of horses_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [244]
“They’re Clan, and they’re human,” she interrupted.
“You are going to hear that word a lot, Ayla. It’s only fair to tell you. You should also know that for a man to force a Clan woman is one thing—not approved, but overlooked. For a woman to ‘share Pleasures’ with a flathead male is … unforgivable to many people.”
“Abomination?”
Jondalar blanched, but pressed on. “Yes, Ayla. Abomination.”
“I am not abomination!” she flared. “And Durc is not abomination! I did not like what Broud did to me, but it was not abomination. If it had been some other man who did it just to relieve his needs, and not with hatred, I would have accepted it like any Clan woman. There is no shame to being a woman of the Clan. I would have stayed with them, even as Broud’s second woman, if I could have. Just to be near my son. I don’t care how many people do not approve!”
He had to admire her, but it was not going to be easy for her. “Ayla, I’m not saying you should feel shame. I am only telling you what to expect. Perhaps you could say you come from some other people.”
“Jondalar, why do you tell me to say words that are not true? I don’t know how. In the Clan, no one makes untruths—it would be known. It could be seen. Even if one refrains from mentioning something, it is known. It is allowed sometimes, for … courtesy, but it is known. I can see when you say words that are not true. Your face tells me, and your shoulders, and your hands.”
He flushed. Were his lies so apparent? He was glad he had decided to be scrupulously honest with her. Maybe he could learn something from her. Her honesty, her forth-rightness, were part of her inner strength.
“Ayla, you don’t have to learn to lie, but I thought I should tell you these things before I leave.”
Ayla felt a tight knot forming in her stomach, and her throat constricted. He is going to leave. She wanted to dive back into the furs and hide her head again. “I thought you would,” she said. “But you have nothing for traveling. What do you need?”
“If I could have some of your flint, I can make tools, and some spears. And if you will tell me where the clothes are that I was wearing, I’d like to repair them. The haversack should be in good shape, if you brought it from the canyon.”
“What is a haversack?”
“It’s something like a backframe, but worn over one shoulder. There is no word for it in Zelandonii; the Mamutoi use it. Those are Mamutoi clothes I was wearing …”
Ayla shook her head. “Why is this a different word?”
“Mamutoi is a different language.”
“A different language? What language did you teach me?”
Jondalar had a sinking feeling. “I taught you my language—Zelandonii. I didn’t think …”
“Zelandonii—they live west?” Ayla felt uneasy.
“Well, yes, but far to the west. The Mamutoi live nearby.”
“Jondalar, you taught me a language spoken by people who live far away, but not one spoken by people who live nearby. Why?”
“I … didn’t think about it. I just taught you my language,” he said, suddenly feeling terrible. He hadn’t done anything right.
“And you are the only one who can speak it?”
He nodded. Her stomach churned. She thought he had been sent to teach her to speak, but she could only speak to him. “Jondalar, why didn’t you teach me the language everyone knows?”
“There is no language everyone knows.”
“I mean the one you use when you speak to your spirits, or maybe to your Great Mother.”
“We don’t have a language just for speaking to Her.”
“How do you talk to people who don’t know your language?”
“We learn each other’s. I know three languages, and a few words in some others.”
Ayla was shaking again. She thought she would be able to leave the valley and speak to the people she would meet. What was she going to do now? She got up, and he stood also. “I wanted to know all your words, Jondalar. I have to know how to speak. You must teach me. You must.”
“Ayla, I can’t teach you two more languages now. It takes time. I don’t even know them perfectly—it’s more than words …”
“We can start with words. We will have to start from the beginning.