Laughter and comments greeted his remark. "Getting long in the tooth, Joharran?" a young man called out.

"Wait until you've lived as many years as I have. Then you'll know what old is," a white-haired man said.

When things settled down, Joharran continued. "Once they are mated, most people will think of her as Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, but Jondalar suggested that the Ninth Cave accept her as Zelandonii before the Matrimonial. In effect, he has asked that we adopt her. It would make the Matrimonial ceremonies easier and less confusing, and we wouldn't have to get special dispensations from everyone at the Summer Meeting if we do it before we go."

"What does she want?" a woman asked.

Everyone turned to look at her. Ayla swallowed hard, and then, concentrating on saying the words as correctly as she could, she said, "More than anything in this world, I want to be a Zelandonii woman, and mated to Jondalar."

Though she tried, she couldn't prevent the unusual quality of the way she spoke, and no one who heard her could mistake her foreign origins; but the simple statement, spoken with such sincere conviction, won most people over.

"She did travel a long way to get here." "She'll be the same as Zelandonii anyway."

"But what is her status?" Laramar asked.

"She will have the same status as Jondalar," Marthona said. She had expected him to make trouble, and this time she was ready.

"Jondalar has a high position in the Ninth Cave because you are his mother, but we don't know anything about her, except that she was raised by flatheads," Laramar said loudly.

"She was also adopted by the highest-ranked Mamut, which is what they call a Zelandoni. She would have been adopted by the leader if the Mamut hadn't spoken for her," Marthona said.

"Why does there always seem to be one who objects?" Ayla said to Jondalar in Mamutoi. "Are we going to have to make fire with a firestone and then give him one to persuade him, like Frebec at the Lion Camp?"

"Frebec turned out to be a good man; somehow I don't think Laramar will," Jondalar murmured back.

"That's what she says. How do we know?" Laramar said, continuing his loud objections.

"Because my son was there, and he says the same thing," Marthona replied. "The leader, Joharran, doesn't doubt them."

"Joharran is family. Of course Jondalar's brother isn't going to doubt her. She will be part of your family, and you all want her to have a high status," Laramar said.

"I don't know why you are objecting. Laramar," a voice from another quarter spoke out. People turned and were surprised to see that it was Stelona. "If it wasn't for Ayla, your mate's youngest daughter would probably have starved to death. You didn't tell us that Tremeda got sick and lost her milk, or that Lanoga was trying to keep her alive with mashed-up roots. Ayla did. I wonder if you even knew. Zelandonii don't let Zelandonii starve. Several of us mothers are feeding the baby, and Lorala is already getting stronger. I would be more than willing to sponsor Ayla, if she needs one. She is a woman the Zelandonii would be proud to claim."

Several other women spoke up, defending Ayla, all nursing mothers holding their infants. The story of Ayla and Tremeda's baby had started to spread, but not everyone knew, or knew the entire story. Most people understood what kind of "sickness" Tremeda had, but in any case her milk was gone, and they were glad the baby was being fed.

"Do you have any more objections, Laramar?" Joharran said. The man shook his head and backed away. "Does anyone else have any objections to accepting Ayla into the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii?" There was a background murmur, but no one spoke up. He reached down and gave Ayla a hand to help her up onto the level stone, then they turned to face the people. "Since several people are willing to sponsor her, and there are no objections, let me introduce Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, formerly a Member of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth, Chosen by the Spirit of the Cave Lion, Protected by the Cave Bear, Friend of the horses, Whinney and Racer, and the four-legged hunter, Wolf." He had spoken to Jondalar to make sure he got her names and ties right, and memorized them. "And soon to be mated to Jondalar," he added. "Now, let's go eat!"

They both got down from the Speaking Stone, and as they made their way toward the food, they were stopped by people introducing themselves again, commenting on Tremeda's baby, and in general welcoming her.

But one person had no wish to welcome her. Laramar was not a man who was easily embarra.s.sed, but he had been thoroughly chastened and was not happy about it. Before Laramar left the group, he glared at Ayla with a look so full of anger, it left her chilled. He didn't know Zelandoni had seen it, too. When they reached the place where the food was being served, they noticed that Laramar's barma was being offered, but the one who was pouring it was his mate's oldest son, Bologan.

As people were beginning to eat, it started raining again. They found places beneath the deep overhanging shelf to enjoy their food, some sitting on the ground, others on logs or blocks of stone that had been brought in at various times and left for future use. Zelandoni caught up with Ayla as she was walking toward Jondalar's family.

"I'm afraid you have an enemy in Laramar," she said.

"I'm sorry about that," Ayla said. "I didn't mean to cause problems for him."

"You didn't cause his problems. He was trying to cause you problems, or rather trying to humiliate Marthona and her family, and brought problems on himself instead. But now, I think he will blame you," Zelandoni said.

"Why should he want to make trouble for Marthona?"

"Because he is the lowest-ranked member of the Ninth Cave and she and Joharran are the highest, and he managed to catch her in a slight mistake the other day. As you may already know, that is hard to do. I think it may have given him a temporary illusion of triumph, and he liked it so well, he thought he'd try it again," the donier said.

Ayla's frown deepened as Zelandoni explained. "It may not be just Marthona he wanted to get the better of," Ayla said. "I think I made a mistake the other day, too."

"What do you mean?"

"The day I went there to show Lanoga how to make food for the baby and give her a bath, and clean herself, Laramar came home. I'm sure he didn't know the baby had no milk, he didn't even know about Bologan's injuries. It made me angry; I don't like him. Wolf was with me, and I know when Laramar saw him, he got scared. He tried to cover up his fear, and I found myself feeling like a wolf pack leader wanting to put a lower-ranked wolf in his place. I knew I shouldn't have done it. It just gave him bad feelings toward me," Ayla said.

"Do leaders of wolf packs really put lower-ranked wolves in their place?" Zelandoni said. "How do you know?"

"I learned to hunt meat-eaters before I learned to hunt meat," Ayla said. "I'd spend whole days watching them. That may be why Wolf can live with people. Their ways are not so different from ours."

"How amazing!" Zelandoni said. "And, I'm afraid you're right. You created some bad feelings, but it wasn't entirely your fault. At the burial, you were among the highest ranked of the Ninth Cave, which is where I thought you belonged; Marthona and I agreed. He wanted you in the place he thought you belonged, which was behind him. Traditionally, he was correct.

"At a burial, all the members of a Cave should go before anyone who is visiting. But you are not exactly a visitor. First you were with the zelandonia, because you are a healer, and they always go first. Then you were with Jondalar and his family, which is also where you belong, as everybody agreed today. But at the burial, he mentioned it to Marthona and caught her off guard. That's why he thought he'd triumphed. Then, without even knowing it, you put him in his place. He thought he could get back at both of you through Marthona, but he seriously underestimated her."

"There you are," Jondalar said. "We were just talking about Laramar."

"So were we," Ayla said, but she doubted that their conversation had brought out the same insights. Partly because of her own doing, and partly because of circ.u.mstances she wasn't aware of, she had created an enemy. Another one, she realized. She hadn't wanted to cause bad feelings in any of Jondalar's people, but in the short time she had been there, she had made two people angry at her. Marona hated her, too. She realized she hadn't seen the woman for some time and wondered where she was.

21.

The people of the Ninth Cave had been making preparations for their annual trek to the Summer Meeting of the Zelandonii since they returned from the last one, but as the time of their departure drew near, activities and antic.i.p.ation became more intense. There were final decisions about what to take with them and what to leave behind, but it was the process of closing down their dwellings for the summer that always made them aware that they were leaving and would not be back until cold winds blew.

A few people would stay behind for one reason or another: temporary or more serious illness, to finish a project, to wait for someone. Others would return occasionally to their winter home, but most would be gone all summer. Some people would stay close to the place that had been chosen for the Summer Meeting, but many would travel to different places for diverse reasons throughout the warm season.

There would be hunting trips, harvesting treks, visits to relatives, sojourns to group meetings of other Zelandonii, and travels to neighboring peoples. Some young people would venture farther afield and go on Journeys. Jondalar's return with new discoveries and inventions, a beautiful and exotic woman with rare talents, and exciting stories would encourage some of those who had been thinking about it to decide to go on a Journey of their own, and some mothers who knew that his brother had died far away would be unhappy that Jondalar had returned and caused such excitement.

The evening before they planned to leave, the entire Ninth Cave was eager and restless. When Ayla thought about the Summer Meeting, where she and Jondalar would be mated, she could hardly believe it was really true. Sometimes she would wake up and be almost afraid to open her eyes for fear that it might be just a wonderful dream and she would find herself back in the small cave in her lonely valley. She thought often of Iza, wishing that somehow the woman she regarded as her mother could know that she would soon have a mate, and that she had finally found her people, at least the ones she chose to be her people.

Ayla had long ago accepted the fact that she would never know the people to whom she was born, or even who they were, and realized that it didn't matter. When she was living with the Clan, she had wanted to be one of them, a woman of the Clan, which clan was not important. But when she finally understood that she was not Clan, and never would be, then the only distinction that mattered was that she was one of the Others, in her mind kin to all of the Others. She had been happy to be Mamutoi, the people who had adopted her, and she would have been content to be Sharamudoi, the people who had asked Jondalar and her to stay and live with them. She wanted to be Zelandonii only because they were Jondalar's people, not because they were any better than, or even very different from, any of the Others.

During the long winter, when most people stayed close to the Ninth Cave, many of them spent time making gifts they would be giving to people when they saw them again at the next Summer Meeting. When she heard people talking about gifts, Ayla decided to make some, too. Though she'd had only a short time to work on them, she made small tokens that she planned to give to those people who had been especially kind to her, and who she knew would be giving gifts to her and Jondalar for their Matrimonial. She had a surprise for Jondalar, too. She had brought it with her all the way from the Summer Meeting of the Mamutoi. It was the one thing she insisted on taking with her through all the adversities and hardships of their Journey.

Jondalar was planning a surprise of his own. He had discussed with Joharran the best place to establish a home for Ayla and himself within the abri of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, and he wanted it to be ready for Ayla when they returned in the fall. To that end, he had been making arrangements. He talked with the fabricators of outside wall panels, and the people who were best at the construction of the lower stone walls, with those who were skilled at stone paving, and the ones who made interior room division panels, with the specialists in making all the components required to erect a dwelling.

Planning their future home involved some complicated trading and bargaining. First, Jondalar agreed to trade some good stone knives for fresh hides from several people, mostly from the recent megaceros and bison hunts. The blades of the knives would be knapped by him, but they would be hafted in finely made handles fabricated by Solaban, whose work Jondalar especially admired. In return for the handles, Jondalar had agreed to produce several burins-chisel-like flint carving tools-to the handle-maker's specific requirements. Long talks between the two men that included drawings made with charcoal on birch bark had created an understanding of what was wanted.

Some of the skins Jondalar acquired would be used to make the rawhide panels Jondalar needed for his dwelling, and some would compensate Shevola, the panel-maker, for her time and effort. He also promised to make her a couple of special leather-cutting knives, some hide-sc.r.a.pers, and some woodcutting tools.

He made similar arrangements with Zelandoni's acolyte, the artist Jonokol, to paint the panels, which would incorporate Jonokol's own ideas of design and composition using basic symbols and animals that all Zelandonii were generally expected to use, along with some that Jondalar wanted. Jonokol also wanted some special tools. He had some ideas for sculpturing limestone in high relief, but he lacked the flint-knapping skill to convert the ideas he envisioned for a special kind of burin with a beaked nose into the tool he wanted. Burins and specialized flint tools were difficult to make in any case. It took a very experienced and skilled flintknapper to make them well.

Once the materials and various components were ready, it would take relatively little time to actually construct the dwelling. Jondalar had already persuaded several of his relatives and friends to make a trek back with him to the Ninth Cave from the Summer Meeting, along with the skilled workers-but without Ayla-to help him build it. He smiled to himself every time he imagined how pleased she would be when they returned in the fall to find she had a home of her own.

Though it took several long afternoons for Jondalar to baiter his skill at making flint tools with all the other people who could make the elements that would be needed for him to construct a place to live, the bargaining was often enjoyable. It usually started with pleasantries, then good-natured arguments that sometimes sounded like heated battles or insulting comments, but usually concluded in laughter over a cup of tea, or barma, or wine, or even a meal. Jondalar was careful to make sure Ayla was not present when he was bargaining for the dwelling, but that did not mean she wasn't exposed to the practice.

The first time she heard people bargaining, she didn't understand the nature of the loud, colorfully vilifying exchange. It was between Proleva and Salova, Rushemar's mate, who was a maker of baskets. Ayla thought they were really angry, and she hurried to get Jondalar, hoping he could do something to stop it.

"You say Proleva and Salova are having a terrible disagreement? What are they saying?" Jondalar asked.

"Proleva said Salova's baskets were ugly and poorly made, but it's not true. Her baskets are beautiful, and Proleva must think so, too. I've seen several in her dwelling. Why would she say such a thing to her?" Ayla said. "Can't you do something to stop them from fighting like that?"

Jondalar understood her genuine concern, but he was having trouble suppressing a smile. Finally he could not hold back any longer and laughed out loud. "Ayla, Ayla. They are not fighting, they are enjoying themselves. Proleva wants some of Salova's baskets, and that's the way it's done. They will come to an agreement, and both will be happy. It's called bargaining, and I can't stop it. If I could, they would feel cheated of their fun. Why don't you go back and watch them? You'll see. Before long, they will be smiling, each thinking she has made a good trade."

"Are you sure, Jondalar? They seem so angry," Ayla said. She could hardly believe Proleva just wanted some of Salova's baskets and that this was the way they went about it.

She went back and found a place to sit nearby to watch and listen. If this was the way things were done among Jondalar's people, she wanted to be able to bargain, too. After a few moments, she noticed that several other people were watching the nfrontation, smiling and nodding to each other. She soon realized the two women were not really angry, but she doubted that she would ever be able to say something was so dreadful if she really believed it was beautiful. She shook her head in wonderment. What a strange way to behave!

When the bargaining was concluded, she went to find Jondalar. "Why do people enjoy saying such terrible things when they don't mean them? I'm not sure if I'll ever learn to 'bargain' like that."

"Ayla, both Projeva and Salova knew that each didn't really mean what the other said. They were playing a game with each other. As long as both of them know it's a game, there is no harm," Jondalar said.

Ayla thought about it. There is more to it than it seems, she thought, but she couldn't quite think what it was.

The night before they were to leave, after bundles had been packed, the tent checked and repaired, and traveling gear readied, everyone in Marthona's home was so excited, no one wanted to go to bed. Proleva stopped by with Jaradal to see if any help was needed. Marthona invited them to come in and sit for a while, and Ayla volunteered to make a nice tea. After a second tapping at the entrance, Folara admitted Joharran and Zelandoni. They had arrived together from different directions, both with offers and questions, but actually wanting to visit and talk. Ayla added more water and extra herbs to the tea.

"Did the traveling tent need repairs?" Proleva asked.

"Not many," Marthona said. "Ayla helped Folara with it. They used Ayla's new thread-puller."

The traveling tents that would be set up each evening were large enough to accommodate several people, and Marthona's family tent would be shared by all of them: Marthona, Willamar, and Folara; Joharran, Proleva, and Jaradal; and Jondalar and Ayla. Zelandoni would be traveling with them as well, Ayla was pleased to learn. She seemed like a member of the family, like an aunt without a mate. The tent would have one other occupant, the four-legged hunter Wolf, and the two horses would be nearby "Did you have any trouble getting poles?" Joharran asked.

"I broke an axe cutting them down," Willamar said.

"Could you resharpen it?" Joharran asked. Though tall straight trees had been cut for tent poles, they would still need wood for fires along the way and after they arrived at the site of the Summer Meeting, and axes to cut trees down, though unpolished stone axes had their own way of being used.

"It shattered. I couldn't sharpen it, I couldn't even get a blade out of it," Willamar said.

"It was a bad piece of flint," Jondalar said. "Full of small inclusions."

"Jondalar made a new axe, and resharpened the others," Willamar said. "It's good to have him back."

"Except now we're going to have to watch out for stray chips of flint again," Marthona said. Ayla noticed she was smiling and understood that she wasn't really complaining. She was glad he was home, too. "He did clean up the flakes he knocked off to sharpen the axes. Not like when he was a boy. I didn't see a single sharp sliver of stone. Of course, I don't see as well anymore."

"The tea is ready," Ayla said. "Does anyone need a cup?"

"Jaradal doesn't have one. You should always remember to bring your own cup, Jaradal," Proleva said, reminding her young son.

"I don't need to bring my own cup here. Grandam has my own cup for me," Jaradal said.

"He's right," Marthona said. "Do you remember where it is, Jaradal?"

"Yes, 'Thona," he said, getting up and running to a low shelf and returning with a small cup shaped and hollowed out of wood. "Here it is." He held it high to show everyone, causing delighted smiles from the a.s.sembled group. Ayla noticed that Wolf had moved from his customary spot near the entrance and was wriggling on his belly toward the boy with his tail held high, every motion of his body expressing his yearning to reach the object of his desire. The boy spied the animal, drank down his tea in a few gulps, then announced, "I play with Wolf now," though he was watching Ayla to see what her reaction would be.

Jaradal reminded her so much of Durc, she couldn't help but smile. The boy headed toward the animal, who made a whining yelp as he got up to meet him, then started licking Jaradal's face. Ayla could tell that Wolf was beginning to feel comfortable with his new, though very large, pack, especially the child of the extended family and his friends. For Wolf's sake, she almost felt sorry that they would be leaving so soon. She knew it would be hard on him to be faced with the many new people they would meet. It would be hard on her, too. Her excitement about the Summer Meeting was tinged with trepidation.

"This is very good tea, Ayla," Zelandoni said. "You sweetened it with licorice root, didn't you?"

Ayla, smiled. "Yes. It's calming for the stomach. Everyone is so excited about leaving, I thought I should make something calming."

"And it tastes good." Zelandoni paused, considering her words. "It occurs to me, since we are all here, that perhaps you should show Joharran and Proleva your way of making fire. I know I asked everyone not to tell anyone else about it yet, but we are all going to be traveling together and they will see it anyway."

Jondalar's brother and his mate glanced at the others with questioning looks, and then at each other.

Folara smiled. "Should I put the fire out?"

"Yes, why don't you," the donier said. "It is more impressive to see it that way the first time."

"I don't understand. What's this about fire?" Joharran said.

"Ayla discovered a new way to start a fire," Jondalar said, "but it's easier to show you."

"Why don't you show them, Jondalar?" Ayla said.

Jondalar asked his brother and Proleva to come to the cooking hearth, and after Folara smothered the fire, and other people put out the lamps that were near them, Jondalar used the firestone and flint and soon had a small fire started.

"How did you do that?" the leader asked. "I've never seen anything like it."

Jondalar held up the firestone. "Ayla discovered the magic in these stones," he said. "I've been meaning to tell you about them, but there's been so much going on, I haven't had time yet. We just showed Zelandoni, and not long ago Marthona, Willamar, and Folara."

"Are you saying anyone can do that?" Proleva said.

"Yes, with practice, anyone can do it," Marthona said.

"Yes, let me show you how the stones work," Jondalar said. He went through the process, and Joharran and Proleva were amazed.

"One of those stones is flint, what is the other one? And where does it come from?" Proleva said.

"Ayla calls it a firestone," Jondalar said, and explained how she happened to discover its properties. "We looked, but didn't see any on the way back. I was beginning to think they could be found only in the east, then Ayla found some not far from here. If there are some nearby, there should be more. We'll keep looking. We have enough for all of us, but they could be significant gifts, and Willamar thinks they would be good to trade."

"Jondalar, I think we're going to have to have some long talks. I wonder just what else you haven't told me. You go off on a Journey, and return with horses that carry you on their backs, a wolf that lets children pull his fur, powerful new throwing weapons, magic stones that make instant fire, stories about intelligent flatheads, and a beautiful woman who knows their language and learned healing from them. Are you sure there isn't something else you've forgotten to tell me?" Joharran said.

Jondalar smiled wryly. "Not that I can think of right now," he said. "When you put it all together like that, I guess it does sound rather unbelievable."

"'Rather unbelievable'? Listen to him!" Joharran said. "Jondalar, I have a feeling your 'rather unbelievable' Journey is going to be talked about for many years."

"He does have interesting stories to tell," Willamar admitted.

"It's all your fault, Willamar," Jondalar said with a grin, then looked at his brother. "Don't you remember staying up late listening to him telling stories about his travels and adventures, Joharran? I always thought he was better than many of the traveling Story-Tellers. Did you ever show Joharran the gift he just brought you, mother?"

"No, Joharran and Proleva haven't seen it yet," Marthona said. "I'll go get it." She went into her sleeping room and returned with a flat section of palmate antler and gave it to Joharran. It was carved with two streamlined animals apparently swimming. They were fishlike, but not fish. "What did you say these were, Willamar?"