The valley of horses_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [62]
He went out to heat some water. He didn’t have to be a zelandoni to know about the painkilling properties of willowbark; everyone made willowbark if they had a headache, or some other minor pain. He didn’t know if it was used for serious wounds, but he didn’t know what else to do. He paced nervously around the fire, looking inside the tent with each circuit, waiting for the cold water to boil. He piled more wood on the fire and singed an edge of the wooden frame that supported the cooking hide full of water.
Why is it taking so long! Wait, I don’t have the willowbark. I’d better get it before the water boils. He put his head inside the tent and stared at his brother for a long moment, then ran to the edge of the river. After peeling bark from a bare-leafed tree whose long thin branches trailed the water, he raced back.
He looked first to see if Thonolan had roused, and saw that his summer tunic was soaked with blood. Then he noticed the overfull cooking skin boiling over and putting out the fire. He didn’t know what to do first—tend to the tea, or to his brother—and he looked back and forth from the fire to the tent to the fire. Finally he grabbed a drinking cup and scooped out some water, scalding his hand, then dropped the willowbark in the hide pot. He put a few more sticks on the fire, hoping they would catch. He searched through Thonolan’s backframe, dumped it out in frustration, and picked up his brother’s summer tunic to replace his bloody one.
As he started into the tent, Thonolan moaned. It was the first sound he had heard from his brother. He scrambled out to scoop up a bowl of the tea, noticed there was hardly any liquid left, and wondered if it was too strong. He ducked back into the tent with a cup of the hot liquid, looked frantically for a place to set it, and saw that more was soaked with blood than his summer tunic. It was pooling under Thonolan, discoloring the sleeping roll.
He’s losing too much blood! O Mother! He needs a zelandoni. What am I going to do? He was becoming more agitated and fearful for his brother. He felt so helpless. I need to go for help. Where? Where can I find a zelandoni? I can’t even get across the Sister, and I can’t leave him. Some wolf or hyena will smell the blood and come after him.
Great Mother! Look at all the blood on that tunic! Some animal will smell it. Jondalar snatched the blood-soaked shirt and threw it out of the tent. No, that’s not any better! He dove out of the tent, picked it up again, and looked wildly for some place to put it, away from the camp, away from his brother.
He was in shock, overcome with grief, and, in the depths of his heart, he knew there was no hope. His brother needed help that he could not give, and he could not go for help. Even if he knew where to go, he couldn’t leave. It was senseless to think any bloody tunic would draw carnivorous animals any more than Thonolan himself would, with his open wound. But he didn’t want to face the truth in his heart. He turned away from sense and gave in to panic.
He spied the stand of alder and, in an irrational moment, raced up the hill and stuffed the leather shirt high up in a crook of one of the trees. Then he ran back. He went into the tent and stared at Thonolan, as if by sheer effort of will he could make his brother sound and whole again, and smiling.
Almost as though Thonolan sensed the plea, he moaned, tossed his head, and opened his eyes. Jondalar kneeled closer and saw pain in his eyes, in spite of a weak smile.
“You were right, Big Brother. You usually are. We didn’t leave that rhino behind.”
“I don’t want to be right, Thonolan. How do you feel?”
“Do you want an honest answer? I hurt. How bad is it?” he asked, trying to sit up. The halfhearted grin turned to a grimace of pain.
“Don’t try to move. Here, I made some willowbark.” Jondalar supported his brother’s head and held the cup to his lips. Thonolan took a few sips, then lay back down with relief. A look of fear joined the pain in his eyes.
“Tell me straight, Jondalar. How bad is it?”
The tall man closed his eyes and drew