Ayla remembered that the Mamutoi had different names for their summer camps than they did for their winter dwellings. The Lion Camp, for example, was the Cattail Camp at the Summer Meeting, but the same people who lived at Lion Camp lived there. She asked Jondalar if the Ninth Cave had a different summer name. He explained that
their location was just called the camp of the Ninth Cave, but living arrangements at Zelandonii Summer Meetings were not quite the same as they were in winter in the shelters of stone.
Each summer dwelling accommodated more people than usually shared the roomier, more permanent structures under the large overhang of the Ninth Cave. As a rule, family members, including those who had separate dwellings in winter, shared a lodge, but some people didn’t even stay at the same camp. Instead, it was not uncommon for some to spend the summer with other relatives or friends. For example, young matrons who had moved to their mates’ Caves often liked to take their children and spend the summer with their mothers, siblings, or childhood friends, and their mates usually accompanied them.
In addition, young women who would be having their First Rites that year lived together in a separate dwelling near the large central dwelling of the zelandonia, at least for the first part of the summer. Another dwelling nearby was set up for the women who chose to be donii-women that year, to be available for the young men who were approaching puberty.
Most young men who were past puberty—and some men not so young—often chose to band together separately away from their home camps and set up lodges of their own. They were required to be on the periphery of the camp, as far away as possible from the very desirable young women who were being prepared for First Rites. For the most part the men didn’t mind. They would have liked to ogle the women, but they rather liked the privacy of being off by themselves, so no one could complain if they were a little loud or rowdy. As a consequence, the men’s dwellings were called “the far lodges,” usually shortened to fa’lodges. The men who stayed in a fa’lodge were usually unmated or between mates—or wished they were.
Since he didn’t rush to greet her when she went out, Ayla assumed that Wolf was with Jondalar. There were not many people outside, most were probably somewhere around the central area, the main focus of the Summer Meeting, but she
found some leftover tea near the camp’s fireplace. She noticed that the fireplace was not shaped like a big round bonfire, but more like a trench. She had seen the evening before that more people could get closer to a fire if it was extended and longer logs and branches, cut down or deadfall, could be used without having to hack them into smaller pieces. While she was drinking the tea, Salova, Rushemar’s mate, came out of her lodge, holding her baby daughter.
“Greetings, Ayla,” she said, putting her baby down on a mat.
“Greetings, Salova,” Ayla said, coming closer to see the baby. She held out a finger for the infant to grab and smiled at her.
Salova looked at Ayla, hesitated, then asked, “Would you mind watching Marsola for a while? I gathered some materials to make baskets and have some of them soaking in the creek. I’d like to get them and sort them out. I promised some people I would make baskets for them.”
“I’d love to watch Marsola,” Ayla said, smiling at her, then turned back to the baby.
Salova was a little anxious around the foreign woman and kept up a nervous chatter. “I just fed her, so she shouldn’t be any trouble. I’ve got plenty of milk. Giving a little to Lorala isn’t any trouble at all. Lanoga brought her around last night. She’s getting nice and plump, and smiles now. She didn’t used to smile at all. Oh, you haven’t eaten yet, have you? I have some soup left over from last night with some good pieces of deer meat in it. You are welcome to it, if you want. It’s what I ate this morning, it’s probably still warm.”
“Thank you. I think I will have a little soup,” Ayla said.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, then hurried away.
Ayla found the soup in a large aurochs stomach container that had been mounted on a wood frame and placed over some hot coals at the edge of the long community fireplace to simmer—the coals had almost died, but the soup was still hot. A stack of odd bowls was nearby, some tightly woven, some carved out of wood, a couple of shallow ones shaped out of some large bone. A few used bowls were scattered around
where people had left them. Ayla scooped out some soup with a ladle made of a curved sheep horn, then took out her eating knife. She saw that there were vegetables in it, too, though they were rather soft by now.
She sat on the mat beside the baby, who was lying on her back, kicking her feet into the air. Some deer dewclaws had been tied to one ankle, and they rattled whenever she kicked up her feet. Ayla finished her soup, then picked up the baby and, supporting her head with her hands, held her so that she was looking at her. When Salova came back with a wide, flat basket full of various fibrous vegetation, she saw Ayla talking to her baby and making her smile. It warmed the young mother’s heart and made her feel more relaxed around the stranger.
“I really appreciate your watching her, Ayla. It gave me a chance to get this ready,” Salova said.
“It was my pleasure, Salova. Marsola is a wonderful baby.”
“Did you know that Proleva’s younger sister, Levela, is getting mated at the First Matrimonial, just like you? You always feel a special tie to the people who mate at the same Matrimonial as you,” Salova said. “Proleva wanted me to make some special baskets for her, as part of her Matrimonial gift.”
“Would you mind if I watched you for a little while? I’ve made baskets, but I’d like to know how you make them,” Ayla said.
“I don’t mind at all. I’d like the company, and maybe you can show me how you do it. I always like to learn new ways,” Salova said.
The two young women sat together, talking and comparing basket-making techniques, while the baby slept beside them. Ayla liked the way Salova used materials of different colors and actually wove pictures of animals and various designs into her containers. Salova thought Ayla’s subtle techniques that created different textures gave a rich elegance to her seemingly simple baskets. Each gained an appreciation for the other’s skill, and for each other.
After a while Ayla got up. “I’m going to have to use the
trenches, can you tell me where they are? I should empty the night basket, too. And I might as well wash these bowls,” she added, picking up the used ones that were scattered around. “And then I should go check on the horses.”
“The trenches are over there,” Salova said, pointing in a direction away from the creek and the camp, “and we’ve been washing the cooking and eating things at the end of the creek, where it empties into The River. There’s some clean sand for scouring nearby. I don’t have to tell you where the horses are.” She smiled then. “I went to look at the horses yesterday with Rushemar. They made me nervous at first, but they seem gentle, and content. The mare ate some grass out of my hand.” Her smile turned to a grin and then to a worried frown. “I hope that was all right. Rushemar said Jondalar told him it would be.”
“Of course it’s all right. It makes them more comfortable if they get to know the people around them,” Ayla said.
She’s not so strange, Salova thought as she watched Ayla go. She talks a little funny, but she’s really nice. I wonder what ever made her think that she could make those animals do what she wanted them to? I never even imagined that one day I would feed a horse some grass out of my own hand.
After cleaning up the bowls and stacking them near the fire trench, Ayla thought it might be nice to clean herself up and go for a swim. She went back to their lodge, smiled at Salova and the baby, and slipped inside. She took the soft drying hide out of her traveling pack and then looked over her clothing. She didn’t have much, but it was more than she came with. Though she had cleaned them, she did not want to wear the worn and stained clothes she had worn on her long Journey except as working clothes.
The clothes she had worn on the recent trek to the Summer Meeting were the ones she had saved to wear when she met Jondalar’s people, but even they were well-worn and had their share of stains. She also had the boys’ winter underwear that Marona and her friends had given her, but she knew that wouldn’t be appropriate. Of course, she had her Matrimonial outfit, but that would be saved, as would the beautiful
outfit that Marthona had given to her, for special occasions. What was left were a few things of theirs that Marthona and Folara had given her. They were unfamiliar to her, but she thought they might be suitable.
Before she left the lodge, she noticed her riding blanket folded up near her sleeping roll and decided to take it as well. Then she went to see the horses. Whinney and Racer were both glad to see her and crowded close to get her attention. Both wore halters with a long lead attached to a sturdy tree; she removed them and put them in her pack, then she tied the riding blanket on Whinney, mounted her, and started upstream.
The horses were in high spirits and broke out at a fast run, happy for the freedom. Their feeling was communicated to Ayla, who let them set their own pace. She was particularly pleased when she reached the meadow near the pool to see Wolf racing toward them. That had to mean Jondalar was nearby.
Sometime after Ayla left, Joharran came to the camp and asked Salova if she had seen Ayla.
“Yes, we were making baskets together,” she said. “The last time I saw her, she was heading toward the horses. She said she needed to check on them.”
“I’ll go look for her, but if you see her, will you tell her Zelandoni wants to talk to her?”
Of course,” Salova said, wondering what the donier wanted. Then she shrugged. No one was likely to tell her what the First wanted.
Ayla saw Jondalar step out from behind some brush with a surprised grin on his face. She pulled to a stop, slid down, and raced into his arms.
“What are you doing here?” he asked after their warm embrace. “I didn’t even tell anybody I was coming here. I was just walking upstream, and when I got this far, I remembered that scree slope behind the pool, and thought I’d check to see if there was any flint.”
“Is there?”
“Yes, not the best quality, but serviceable. What made you decide to come here?”
“I woke up feeling lazy. Hardly anyone was around, except Salova and her baby. She asked me to watch Marsola when she went to get her materials to make baskets. She’s such a wonderful baby, Jondalar. We talked for a while and did some basket-weaving, then I decided to come for a swim and take the horses for a run. And found you. What a nice surprise,” she said, smiling.
“A nice surprise for me, too. Maybe I’ll take a swim with you. I’m pretty dusty from hauling rocks around, but first I should get the stones I’ve found and bring them here. Then, we’ll see,” he said with an inviting grin. He gave her a slow, lingering kiss. “Maybe I can worry about those rocks later.”
“Go ahead and get them, so you won’t have to clean the dust off twice. I wanted to wash my hair, anyway. It was a long, sweaty trek getting here,” Ayla said.
When Joharran reached the place where the horses had been, it was obvious they were gone. They’ve probably gone for one of their long rides, he thought, and Zelandoni really wanted to see Ayla. Willamar wanted to talk to them, too. Jondalar knows they’ll have plenty of time to themselves after the Matrimonial, you’d think he would realize that there are important issues to settle at the beginning of a Summer Meeting, Joharran thought, a little irritated that he couldn’t find them. He had not been all that pleased that he was the one the donier happened to see when she was looking for someone to send for them. After all, he had more important things to do than chase after his brother, but he didn’t feel he could exactly refuse Zelandoni, at least not without a very good excuse.
He glanced down and saw the fresh tracks of the horses. He was too experienced a tracker not to notice the direction they had taken, and he knew they had not headed off away from camp. It looked as if they were following the creek upstream. He recalled the pleasing little glen at the head of the small waterway, with the spring-fed pond and the grassy meadow. That’s probably where they went, he thought, smiling to himself. Since he had been sent on a mission to find them, he didn’t like returning without them.
He followed the creek, checking the tracks as he went to make sure they hadn’t veered off, and when he saw the horses ahead, grazing contentedly, he knew he’d found them. When he reached the screen of hazelnut shrubs, some as tall as trees, he peered through and, seeing only Ayla, wondered where his brother was. When he reached the sandy bank, she was just ducking under the water, and he called to her when she came up for air.
“Ayla, I’ve been looking for you.”
Ayla pushed back her hair and rubbed her eyes. Oh, Joharran, it’s you,” she said in a tone of voice he couldn’t quite identify.
“Do you know where Jondalar is?”
“Yes, he was looking for flint in the rock pile behind the pond, and went to get the stones he found. Then he was going to come and bathe with me,” Ayla said, seeming a little disconcerted.
“Zelandoni wants to see you, and Willamar wanted to talk to you both,” Joharran said.
Oh,” she said, sounding rather disappointed.
Joharran had often seen women without clothes on. Most of them bathed in The River every morning in the summer and washed themselves in winter. Nakedness by itself was not considered especially suggestive. Women wore special clothing or accoutrements that were meant to be inviting when they wanted to show interest in a man, or behaved in certain ways, especially at a festival to honor the Mother. But as Ayla started out of the water, it occurred to him that she and his brother had had other plans, which he’d interrupted. The thought made him aware of her body as she approached him, walking out of the water.
She was tall, with shapely curves and well-defined muscles. Her large breasts still had the firmness of a young woman, and he’d always found a woman with a slightly rounded stomach appealing. Marona has always been considered the Beauty of the Bunch, he thought, no wonder she took such a dislike to Ayla from the beginning. She looked good in that winter underwear she got tricked into wearing,
but that was nothing compared to really seeing her. Marona doesn’t compare. My brother is a lucky man, he thought. Ayla is a fine-looking woman. But she is going to get a lot of attention at Mother Festivals, and I’m not sure how Jondalar will like that.