The valley of horses_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [44]
They stood by a tree not saying anything, her head bowed. He moved aside a tendril of hair and lifted her chin to look at him. She had tears in her eyes. Jondalar wiped a glistening drop from the corner of her eye with a knuckle, then brought it to his lips.
“Oh … Jondalar,” she cried, reaching for him.
He held her, kissed her gently, then more passionately.
“Noria,” he said. “Noria woman, beautiful woman.”
“Jondalar make Noria woman,” she said. “Make … Noria … Make …” She heaved a sob, wishing she knew the words to tell him what she wanted to say.
“I know, Noria. I know,” he said, holding her. Then he stood back holding her shoulders, smiled at her and patted her stomach. She smiled through her tears.
“Noria make Zelandonyee.…” She touched his eyelid. “Noria make Jondal … Haduma.…”
“Yes.” He nodded. “Tamen told me. Jondal, sixth-generation Hadumai.” He reached into his pouch. “I have something I want to give you, Noria.” He took out the stone donii and put it in her hand. He wished there were some way to tell her how special it was to him, to tell her his mother had given it to him, to tell her how old it was, how it had been passed down for many generations. Then he smiled. “This donii is my Haduma,” he said. “Jondalar’s Haduma. Now, it is Noria’s Haduma.”
“Jondalar Haduma?” she said with wonder, looking at the carved female shape. “Jondalar Haduma, Noria?”
He nodded, and she burst into tears, clutched it in both hands, and brought it to her lips. “Jondalar Haduma,” she said, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Suddenly she threw her arms around him and kissed him, then ran back toward the tents, crying so hard that she could barely see her way.
The whole camp turned out to see them off. Haduma was standing beside Noria when Jondalar stopped in front of them. Haduma was smiling, nodding approval, but tears were rolling down Noria’s cheeks. He reached for one, brought it to his mouth, and she smiled, though it didn’t check her tears. He turned to go, but not before he saw the curly-haired young man Jeren had sent as a runner looking at Noria with lovesick eyes.
She was a woman now and blessed by Haduma, assured of bringing a lucky child to a man’s hearth. It was common talk that she had known pleasure at First Rites, and everyone knew such women made the best mates. Noria was eminently matable, utterly desirable.
“Do you really think Noria is pregnant with a child of your spirit?” Thonolan asked after they left the camp behind.
“I’ll never know, but that Haduma is a wise old woman. She knows more than anyone can guess. I think she does have ‘big magic.’ If anyone could make it happen, she could.”
They walked in silence beside the river for a while, then Thonolan said, “Big Brother, there’s something I’d like to ask you.”
“Ask away.”
“What magic do you have? I mean, every man talks about being chosen for First Rites, but it really scares a lot of them. I know a couple who have turned it down, and to be honest, I always feel clumsy. I’d never turn it down, though. But you, you get chosen all the time. And I’ve never seen it fail. They all fall in love with you. How do you do it? I’ve watched you rut around at festivals; I can’t see anything special.”
“I don’t know, Thonolan,” he said, a little embarrassed. “I just try to be careful.”
“What man doesn’t? It’s more than that. What was it Tamen said? ‘Pleasure woman First Rites not easy.’ How do you give a woman pleasure then? I’m just happy if I don’t hurt her too much. And it’s not like you’re undersized or anything to make it easier. Come on, give your little brother some advice. I wouldn’t mind a bunch of young beauties following me around.”
He slowed and looked at Thonolan. “Yes you would. I think that’s one of the reasons I got myself promised to Marona, so I’d have an excuse.” Jondalar’s forehead furrowed. “First Rites are special for a woman. They are for