Jondalar noticed Ayla observing the great limestone cliff and stopped for a moment to let her catch up with him. The path wasn’t as narrow and they could walk abreast. “The place where Grass River joins The River is called Two Rivers,” he said. “That cliff is Two Rivers Rock because it overlooks the confluence.”
“I thought it was the Third Cave,” Ayla said.
“It is blown as the home of the Third Cave of the Zelandonii, but its name is Two Rivers Rock, just like the home of the Fourteenth Cave of the Zelandonii is called Little Valley, and the home of the Eleventh Cave is River Place,” Jondalar explained.
“Then what is the home of the Ninth Cave called?” Ayla said.
“The Ninth Cave,” Jondalar said, and noticed her frown.
“Why doesn’t it have another name like the others?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” Jondalar said. “It’s just always been the Ninth Cave. I suppose it could have been called something like ‘Two Rivers Rock,’ since Wood River joins The River nearby, but the Third Cave already had that name. Or it might have been ‘Big Rock,’ but another place is called that.”
“There are other names it could have been called. Something about the Falling Stone, maybe. No other place has such an unusual object, does it?” Ayla asked, trying to understand. It was easier to remember things if they were consistent, but there always seemed to be exceptions.
“No, not that I’ve ever seen,” Jondalar said.
“But the Ninth Cave is just the Ninth Cave and doesn’t have any other name except that,” Ayla said. “I wonder why.”
“Maybe it’s because our shelter is unique for so many reasons. No one has seen or even heard of a single rock shelter as big, or one that has so many people. It does overlook two rivers, like some others, but Wood River Valley has more trees than most other valleys. The Eleventh Cave always asks
to cut trees for their rafts from there. And then, as you said, there is the Falling Stone,” Jondalar said. “Everyone knows of the Ninth Cave, even people from far away, but no single name really describes it all. I guess it just came to be known for the people who live there, the Ninth Cave.”
Ayla nodded, but she was still frowning. “Well, naming it for the people does make it unique, I suppose.”
As they neared the home of the Third Cave, Ayla could see a clutter of tents, lean-tos, frames, and racks in the space between the base of the cliff and The River. A random scatter of hearths—the dark circular lenses of former fires and a few with burning flames—were interspersed among the structures. It was the main working area of the Third Cave’s outside activities and included a small dock along the bank of The River to secure rafts.
The territory of the Third Cave encompassed not only the cliff, but the area below the stone terraces all the way to the edge of the water of both rivers and in some places beyond. It wasn’t owned by them. People, particularly from the other nearby Caves, could walk into another Cave’s territory and use its resources, but it was considered polite to be invited or to ask first. Such tacit strictures were understood by adults. Children, of course, could go anywhere they wanted.
The region along The River between Wood River just beyond the Ninth Cave on the north and Grass River at Two Rivers Rock on the south was considered a cohesive community by the Zelandonii who lived there. In effect, it was an extended village, though they didn’t, quite, have a concept for that kind of settlement or give a name to it. But when Jondalar was traveling and referred to the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii as his home, it was not only the many people of that particular stone shelter that he thought of, but the entire neighboring community.
The visitors began ascending the trail toward the main level of Two Rivers Rock but stopped when they reached the lower level to wait for a person who wanted to join the meeting. While they were standing there, Ayla looked up and found herself reaching for the nearby wall to steady herself.
The top of the cliff overhung so far that as the eye followed the massive stone walls up, it gave her the feeling that the cliff itself was bending over backward along with the viewer.
“That’s Kimeran,” Jondalar said, grinning, as the man greeted Joharran. Ayla looked at the stranger, who was blond and taller than Joharran. She was struck by the subtle body language of the two men, who seemed to regard each other as equals.
The newcomer eyed the wolf with apprehension, but made no comment as they continued up to the next level. When they finally reached the main level, Ayla had to stop again, halted this time by the spectacular view. Her breath caught in her throat. The stone front porch of the Third Cave’s rock shelter commanded an expansive vista of the surrounding countryside. Somewhat upstream along Grass River, she could even see another small watercourse that joined the secondary.
“Ayla.” She turned around when she heard her name. Joharran was behind her, with the man who had just joined them. “I want to introduce you to someone.”
The man took a step forward and held out both hands, but his eyes glanced warily at the wolf beside her, who was looking at him with attentive curiosity. He seemed to be as tall as Jondalar and, with his blond hair, bore a superficial resemblance to him. She put her hand down to signal the animal to stay back as she moved forward to greet him.
“Kimeran, this is Ayla of the Mamutoi…,” Joharran began. Kimeran took both of her hands in his as the leader of the Ninth Cave continued with her names and ties. Joharran had noticed the man’s anxious look and understood exactly how he felt. “Ayla, this is Kimeran, Leader of Elder Hearth, the Second Cave of the Zelandonii, Brother of Zelandoni of the Second Cave, Descendant of the Founder of the Seventh Cave of the Zelandonii.”
“In the name of Doni, the Great Earth Mother, you are welcome to the land of the Zelandonii, Ayla of the Mamutoi,” Kimeran said.
“In the name of Mut, Mother of All, also known as Doni
and by many other names, I greet you Kimeran, Leader of rüder Hearth, the Second Cave of the Zelandonii,” Ayla said, then smiled and repeated his complete introduction. Kimeran noticed her foreign accent and then her lovely smile. She was truly beautiful, he thought, but could he expect any less from Jondalar?
“Kimeran!” Jondalar said when they finished the formal words. “It’s good to see you!”
“And you, Jondalar.” The men grabbed each other’s hands, then gave each other a rough but affectionate hug.
“So you are leader of the Second now,” Jondalar said.
“Yes. For a couple of years. I wondered if you’d make it back. I heard you had returned, but I had to come and see for myself if all the stories about you are true. I think they must be,” Kimeran said, smiling at Ayla, but still keeping a cautious distance from the wolf.
“Ayla, Kimeran and I have been friends for a long time. We went through our manhood ceremony together, got our belts … became men at the same time.” Jondalar smiled and shook his head at the memory. “We were all about the same age, but I felt that I stood out because I was taller than everyone. I was so glad when I saw Kimeran coming because he was as tall as me. I wanted to stand near him so I wouldn’t be so noticeable. I think he felt the same way.” He turned back to the man, who was also smiling, but his expression changed at Jondalar’s next words. “Kimeran, I think you should come and meet Wolf.”
“Meet him?”
“Yes, Wolf won’t hurt you, Ayla will introduce you. Then he’ll know you as a friend.”
Kimeran felt disconcerted as Jondalar walked him toward the four-legged hunter. It was the biggest wolf he’d ever seen, but the woman obviously wasn’t afraid. She went down on one knee and put an arm around him, then looked up and smiled. The wolf’s mouth was open, his teeth were bared, and his tongue was hanging out the side. Was that wolf sneering at him?
“Put your hand out so Wolf can smell it,” Jondalar urged.
“What’s that word you called him?” Kimeran said, frowning and avoiding the gesture. He wasn’t at all sure he wanted to offer his hand to the animal, but people were standing around watching, and he didn’t want to seem afraid, either.
“It’s the name Ayla gave him, it’s the Mamutoi word for ‘wolf.’ ”
When Ayla took his right hand, Kimeran knew he was committed. He took a deep breath and allowed her to bring that important appendage close to the mouth that was full of sharp teeth.
Kimeran was surprised, as most people were, when Ayla went through the process of showing him how to touch the wolf, and he was startled when Wolf licked his hand. But when he felt Wolf’s living warmth, the man wondered why the animal stood still for the touching, and once the initial wonder was over, he found himself paying more attention to the woman.
What kind of power does she have? he wondered. Is she Zelandoni? He was particularly aware of the zelandonia and their unique abilities. She speaks in perfectly clear and understandable Zelandonii, but she has a manner of speaking that is strange. It is not exactly an accent, he thought. She almost seems to swallow some of the sounds. It isn’t unpleasant, but it does make you take notice of her … not that you wouldn’t anyway. She has a foreign look, you know she’s a stranger, but a beautiful, exotic stranger, and the wolf is a part of it. How does she control a wolf? He took on a look of wonder, almost awe.
Ayla had been watching Kimeran’s expressions and saw the look of wonder. She glanced away when she felt herself starting to smile, then she looked up at him. “I’ve taken care of Wolf since he was a little pup,” she said. “He was raised with the children of the Lion Camp. He’s used to people.”
Kimeran felt a flush of surprise. It was almost as though she knew what he was thinking and gave him an answer to his questions before he even asked.
“Did you come alone?” Jondalar asked when Kimeran
could finally stop looking at the wolf, and Ayla, and turned his attention back to him.
“More are coming. We got word that Joharran wanted to organize a last hunt before leaving for the Summer Meeting. Manvelar sent a runner to the Seventh, and they sent one to us, but I didn’t want to wait for everyone and came ahead,” he said.
“Kimeran’s Cave is that way, Ayla,” Jondalar said, pointing down the valley of Grass River. “Can you see that small tributary?” Ayla nodded. “That’s the Little Grass River. Continue along Grass River beyond the tributary to reach the Second and the Seventh Caves. They’re related, and live across a rich meadow from each other.”
The two men began talking, reminiscing and catching up, but Ayla was distracted again by the panoramic scene. The Third Cave’s spacious upper terrace gave the inhabitants many advantages. It was well protected by its large overhang from unpleasant weather, yet it offered an extraordinary view.
Unlike the wooded valley near the Ninth Cave, the valleys of both the Grass and the little Grass Rivers were rich, luxuriant grasslands, but different from the broad meadows of the floodplain of The River. A variety of trees and brush lined the banks of the primary river, but beyond the narrow gallery forest it was an open field of essentially shortgrass that was favored by ruminant grazers. Directly across The River toward the west, the broad floodplain led to a series of hills that climbed up to a grass-covered highland.
The valleys of both the Grass and the little Grass Rivers were wetter, almost swampy at certain times of year, which supported the tallgrass varieties of grass that grew higher than a man in places, and were often mixed with herbaceous forbs. The wide variety of plants invited many different types of grazing and browsing animals that preferred specific lands or parts of the various grasses and leafy herbs as they migrated seasonally across the landscape.
Since the main terrace of Two Rivers Rock overlooked the valleys of both The River and Grass River, it made an
ideal location from which to monitor the itinerant herds. As a consequence, over time the people of the Third Cave gained not only great skill in tracking the movements of herds, but knowledge of the seasonal changes and weather patterns that signaled the appearance of the various animals. With that edge their proficiency as hunters grew. Though every Cave hunted, the spears of the hunters of the Third Cave living at Two Rivers Rock brought down more of the grazers and browsers that migrated through the grassy floodplains of the river valleys than any of the others.
The primacy of the Third Cave’s hunting knowledge and skill was known by most of the Zelandonii, but especially acknowledged by their nearest neighbors. They were the ones to whom the others turned for insight and information whenever anyone planned to go hunting, particularly when a major, community-wide, group hunt was considered.
Ayla looked toward the left, south. The grassy valleys of the two rivers, which joined just below, opened out between high cliffs. Enlarged by Grass River, The River flowed southwest close against the base of the tall cliffs, around the rocks of a deep bend, and out of sight, heading for a larger river farther south and eventually to the Great Waters some distance to the west.
Then Ayla looked right, to the north, back the way they had come. The upstream valley of The River was a broad green meadow with the sparkling shimmer of sunlight reflecting off the meandering waterway glinting through the junipers, silver birches, willows, and pines, even an occasional evergreen oak, that marked its course. Upstream on the opposite bank, where The River made a sweeping turn toward the rising sun, the high cliffs and the immense overhanging shelter of the Ninth Cave could be seen.
Manvelar strode toward them, smiling in welcome. Though the gray-haired man was not young, Ayla noticed that he walked with vitality and confidence. She found it difficult to judge his age. After greetings and a few formal introductions, Manvelar led the group to an unoccupied section on the main level somewhat north of the living area.
“We’re preparing a midday meal for everyone,” Manvelar announced, “but if anyone is thirsty, there’s water and some cups here.” He indicated a couple of large wet waterbags propped up against a stone, with a few woven cups stacked nearby.
Most people accepted the offer, though many had brought their personal drinking cups. It was not uncommon to take one’s own cup, bowl, and eating knife in a pouch or carryall of some kind even when going on short trips or visiting friends. Ayla brought not only her own cup, but a bowl for Wolf. People stared with fascination as the magnificent animal eagerly lapped up the water she gave him, and several smiled. It was somehow comforting to realize that the wolf, who seemed bound to the woman with an inexplicably mysterious tie, could be so ordinary as to need a drink of water.