The Valley of Horses (Earth's Children 2)

The two brothers were led back to their tent and their backframes were returned, but not their spears or knives. One man was always a short distance away, obviously keeping an eye on them. Food was brought to them, and, when night fell, they crawled into their tent. Thonolan was in high spirits, but Jondalar was in no mood for conversation with a brother who laughed every time he looked at him.

There was an air of expectancy in the camp when they awoke. About midmorning a large party arrived, amid shouts of greeting. Tents were set up, men, women, and children settled in, and the spartan camp of the two men began to take on aspects of a Summer Meeting. Jondalar and Thonolan watched with interest the assembly of a large structure, circular, with straight walls covered with hides, and a domed, thatched roof. The various parts of it were preassembled, and it went up with surprising speed. Then bundles and covered baskets were carried inside.

There was a lull in activities while food was prepared. In the afternoon, a crowd began to gather around the large circular structure. The old woman’s log was brought and placed just outside the opening, and the fur robe draped over it. As soon as she appeared, the crowd quieted and formed a circle around her, leaving the place in the center open. Jondalar and Thonolan watched her speak to a man and point to them.

“Maybe she’ll want you to show off your great desire for her again.” Thonolan gibed as the man beckoned.

“They’ll have to kill me first!”

“You mean you’re not dying to bed that beauty?” Thonolan asked, feigning wide-eyed innocence. “It certainly looked that way yesterday.” He began to chuckle again. Jondalar turned and stalked off toward the group.

They were led to the center and she motioned for them to sit in front of her again.

“Zel-an-don-yee?” the old woman said to Jondalar.

“Yes,” He nodded. “I am Jondalar of the Zelandonii.”

She tapped the arm of an old man beside her.

“I … Tamen,” he said, then some words Jondalar couldn’t understand, “ … Hadumai. Long time … Tamen …” another unfamiliar word, “west … Zelandonii.”

Jondalar strained, then suddenly realized he had understood some of the man’s words. “Your name is Tamen, something about Hadumai. Long time … long time ago you … west … made a Journey? to the Zelandonii? Can you speak Zelandonii?” he asked excitedly.

“Journey, yes,” the man said. “No talk … long time.”

The old woman grabbed the man’s arm and spoke to him. He turned back to the two brothers.

“Haduma,” he said, pointing to her. “ … Mother …” Tamen hesitated, then indicated everyone with a sweep of his arm.

“You mean like Zelandoni, One Who Serves the Mother?”

He shook his head. “Haduma … Mother …” He thought for a moment, then beckoned to some people and lined them up in a row beside him. “Haduma … mother … mother … mother … mother,” he said, pointing first at her, then to himself, then to each person in turn.

Jondalar studied the people, trying to make sense out of the demonstration. Tamen was old, but not as old as Haduma. The man next to him was just past middle age. Beside him was a younger woman holding the hand of a child. Suddenly, Jondalar made a connection. “Are you saying Haduma is mother’s mother five times?” He held up his hand with five fingers outstretched. “The mother of five generations?” he said with awe.

The man nodded vigorously. “Yes, mother’s mother … five … generations,” he said, pointing again to each person.

“Great Mother! Do you know how old she must be?” Jondalar said to his brother.

“Great mother, yes,” Tamen said. “Haduma … mother.” He patted his stomach.

“Children?”

“Children.” He nodded. “Haduma mother children …” He began drawing lines in the dirt.

“One, two, three …” Jondalar said the counting words with each one. “ … Sixteen! Haduma gave birth to sixteen children?”

Tamen nodded, pointing again to the marks on the ground. “ … Many son … many … girl?” He shook his head, doubtful.

“Daughters?” Jondalar offered.

Tamen brightened. “Many daughters …” He thought for a moment, “Live … all live. All … many children.” He held up one hand and one finger. “Six Caves … Hadumai.”

“No wonder they were ready to kill us if we so much as looked cross at her,” Thonolan said. “She’s the mother of all of them, a living First Mother!”

Jondalar was as impressed, but even more puzzled. “I am honored to know Haduma, but I don’t understand. Why are we being held? And why did she come here?”

The old man pointed to their meat drying on cords, then to the young man who had first detained them. “Jeren … hunt, Jeren make …” Tamen drew a circle on the ground with two diverging lines making a broad V from the small space left open. “Zelandonii man make … make run …” He thought for a long time, then smiled and said, “Make run horse.”

“So that’s it!” Thonolan said. “They must have built a surround and were waiting for that herd to move closer. We chased them off.”

“I can understand why he was angry,” Jondalar said to Tamen. “But we didn’t know we were on your hunting grounds. We’ll stay and hunt, of course, to make restitution. It’s still no way to treat Visitors. Doesn’t he understand passage customs for those on a Journey?” he said, venting his own anger.

The old man didn’t catch every word, but enough to understand the meaning. “Not many Visitors. Not … west … long time. Customs … forget.”

“Well, you ought to remind him. You were on a Journey, and he might want to make one someday.” Jondalar was still annoyed at their treatment, but he didn’t want to make too much of an issue about it. He still wasn’t sure what was going on and he didn’t want to actually offend them. “Why did Haduma come? How can you allow her to make a long trip at her age?”

Tamen smiled. “Not … allow Haduma. Haduma say. Jeren … find dumai. Bad … bad luck?” Jondalar nodded to indicate the correctness of the word, but he didn’t understand what Tamen was trying to say. “Jeren give … man … runner. Say Haduma make bad luck go. Haduma come.”

“Dumai? Dumai? You mean my donii?” Jondalar said, taking the carved stone figurine out of his pouch. The people around gasped and drew back when they saw what he had in his hand. An angry murmur rose from the crowd, but Haduma harangued them and they quieted.

“But this donii is good luck!” Jondalar protested.

“Good luck … woman, yes. Man …” Tamen searched his memory for a word, “ … sacrilege,” he said.

Jondalar sat back, stunned. “But if it’s good luck for a woman, why did she throw it?” He made a violent gesture of casting the donii down, bringing exclamations of concern. Haduma spoke to the old man.

“Haduma … long time live … big luck. Big … magic. Haduma say me Zelandonii … customs. Say Zelandonii man not Hadumai … Haduma say Zelandonii man bad?”

Jondalar shook his head.

Thonolan spoke up. “I think he’s saying she was testing you, Jondalar. She knew the customs were not the same, and she wanted to see how you would react when she dishonored …”

“Dishonor, yes,” Tamen interrupted, hearing the word.

“Haduma … know not all man, good man. Want know Zelandonii man dishonor Mother.”

“Listen, that’s a very special donii,” Jondalar said, a little indignant, “It’s very old. My mother gave it to me—it’s been handed down for generations.”

“Yes, yes.” Tamen nodded vigorously. “Haduma know. Wise … much wise. Long time live. Big magic, make bad luck go. Haduma know Zelandonii man, good man. Want Zelandonii man. Want … honor Mother.”

Jondalar saw the grin lighting up Thonolan’s face, and squirmed.

“Haduma want,” Tamen pointed to Jondalar’s eyes, “blue eyes. Honor Mother. Zelandonii … spirit make child, blue eyes.”

“You did it again, Big Brother!”

Thonolan blurted, grinning with malicious delight, “With those big blue eyes of yours. She’s in love!” He was shaking, trying to hold his laughter in, afraid it might offend, but unable to stop. “Oh, Mother! I can hardly wait to get back home and tell them. Jondalar, the man every woman wants! Do you still want to go back? For this, I’d give up the end of the river.” He couldn’t talk anymore. He was doubled over, pounding the ground, holding his sides and trying not to laugh out loud.

Jondalar swallowed several times. “Ah … I … um … does Haduma think the Great Mother … ah … could still … bless her with a child?”

Tamen looked at Jondalar, perplexed, and at Thonolan’s contortions. Then a big grin cracked his face. He spoke to the old woman, and the whole camp erupted into raucous laughter, the old woman’s cackle heard above all. Thonolan, with a heave of relief, let out a great whoop of glee as tears squeezed out of his eyes.

Jondalar did not see anything funny.

The old man was shaking his head, trying to talk. “No, no, Zelandonii man.” He beckoned to someone. “Noria, Noria …”