The Valley of Horses (Earth's Children 2)

“Sorry. That is courtesy, right? Custom? Jondalar, what good are words like sorry? It doesn’t change anything, it doesn’t make me feel any better.”

He pulled his hand through his hair. She was right. Whatever he had done—and he thought he knew what it was—being sorry didn’t help. It also didn’t help that he had been evading the issue, not facing it directly for fear he would open himself to further embarrassment.

She went into the cave, took off her picking basket, and stirred up the fire to begin an evening meal. He followed her, put his basket next to hers, and pulled up a mat to the fireplace to sit and watch her.

She used some of the tools he had given her after he cut up the deer, and liked them, but for some tasks she preferred to use the handheld knife she was accustomed to. He thought she wielded the crude knife, shaped on flake of flint that was much heavier than his blades, with as much skill as anyone he knew used with the smaller, finer, hafted knives. His flint-knapper mind was judging, evaluating, comparing the merits of each type. It’s not so much that one is easier to use than the other, he was thinking. Any sharp knife will cut, but think how much more raw flint it must take to make tools for everyone. Just hauling the stone could be a problem.

It made Ayla nervous to have him sitting there watching her so closely. Finally she got up to get some chamomile for tea, hoping it would divert his attention, and to calm herself. It only made him realize he had been putting off facing the problem again. He gathered up his fortitude and decided on a direct approach.

“You’re right, Ayla. Saying I’m sorry doesn’t mean much, but I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know what I did that offended you. Please tell me, why do you feel bad?”

He must be saying words that were untrue again, she thought. How could he not know? Yet he seemed troubled. She looked down, wishing he hadn’t asked. It was bad enough having to suffer such humiliation, without having to talk about it. But he had asked.

“I feel bad because … because I’m not acceptable.” She said it to the hands in her lap holding her tea.

“What do you mean you are not acceptable? I don’t understand.”

Why was he asking her these questions? Was he trying to make her feel worse? Ayla glanced up at him. He was leaning forward, and she read sincerity and anxiety in his posture and eyes.

“No man of the Clan would ever relieve his need himself if there was an acceptable woman around.” She blushed with the recitation of her failing and looked down at her hands. “You were full with need, but you ran away from me. Should I not feel bad if I am not acceptable to you?”

“Are you saying you’re offended because I didn’t …” He sat back and looked up. “Oh, Doni! How could you be so stupid, Jondalar?” he asked the cave at large.

She looked up at him, startled.

“I thought you didn’t want me to annoy you, Ayla. I was trying to respect your wishes. I wanted you so much, I couldn’t stand it, but every time I touched you, you stiffened up. How could you think any man would not find you acceptable?”

A surge of understanding welled up inside her that dissolved the taut aching heart. He wanted her! He thought she didn’t want him! It was customs again, different customs. “Jondalar, you only had to make the signal. Why did it matter what I wanted?”

“Of course it matters what you want. Don’t you …” Suddenly he flushed. “Don’t you want me?” There was hesitation in his eyes, and fear of rejection. She knew the feeling. It surprised her to see it in a man, but it melted any residual doubt she might have harbored and drew forth a warmth and tenderness.

“I want you, Jondalar, I wanted you when I first saw you. When you were so hurt I wasn’t sure you would live, I would look at you and feel … Inside would come this feeling. But you never gave me the signal.…” She looked down again. She had said more than she intended. Women of the Clan were more subtle in their inviting gestures.

“And all this time I’ve been thinking … What is this signal you keep talking about?”

“In the Clan, when a man wants a woman, he makes the signal.”

“Show me.”

She made the gesture and blushed. It was not a signal usually made by a woman.

“That’s all? I just do that? Then what do you do?” He was a little stunned when she got up, kneeled, and presented.

“Are you saying a man does this, and a woman does that, and that’s it? They’re ready?”

“A man doesn’t make the signal if he’s not ready. Weren’t you ready today?”

It was his turn to blush. He had forgotten how ready he was, what he had done to keep from forcing himself on her. He would have given anything then to have known this signal.

“What if a woman doesn’t want him? Or she’s not ready?”

“If a man makes the signal, a woman must assume the position.” She thought of Broud, and her face clouded with remembered pain and degradation.

“Anytime, Ayla?” He saw the pain, and wondered. “Even her first?” She nodded. “Is that how it happened for you? Some man just gave you a signal?” She closed her eyes and swallowed, then nodded again.

Jondalar was aghast, and indignant. “Do you mean to say there were no First Rites? No one to watch and make sure a man didn’t hurt you too much? What kind of people are they? Don’t they care about a young woman’s first time? They just leave it to any man to take her when he’s high in his heat? To force her whether she’s ready or not? Whether it hurts or not?” He was up and angrily pacing. “That’s cruel! That’s inhuman! How could anyone allow it? Don’t they have any compassion? Don’t they care at all?”

His outburst was so unexpected that Ayla just sat staring wide-eyed, watching Jondalar work himself up into a fever of righteous wrath. But as his words became more vituperative, she started shaking her head, negating his statements.

“No!” she said, finally giving voice to her dissent. “That’s not true, Jondalar. They do care! Iza found me—she took care of me. They adopted me, made me part of the Clan, even though I was born to the Others. They didn’t have to take me in.

“Creb didn’t understand that Broud hurt me, he never had a mate. He didn’t know about women that way and it was Broud’s right. And when I got pregnant, Iza took care of me. She made herself sick getting medicine for me so I wouldn’t lose my baby. Without her, I would have died when Durc was born. And Brun accepted him, even though everyone thought he was deformed. But he wasn’t. He’s strong and healthy …” Ayla stopped when she saw Jondalar staring at her.

“You have a son? Where is he?”

Ayla hadn’t spoken of her son. Even after so long a time, it was painful to talk

about him. She knew any mention would cause questions, though eventually it would have come up.

“Yes, I have a son. He is still with the Clan. I gave him to Uba when Broud made me leave.”

“Made you leave?” He sat back down. So she had a son. He had been right in suspecting that she had been pregnant. “Why would someone make a mother leave her child? Who is this … Broud?”

How could she explain? She closed her eyes for a moment. “He’s the leader. Brun was the leader when they found me. He allowed Creb to make me Clan, but he was getting old, so he made Broud leader. Broud always hated me, even when I was a little girl.”

“He’s the one who hurt you, isn’t he?”

“Iza told me about the signal when I became a woman, but she said men relieved their needs with women they liked. Broud did it because it made him feel good to know he could make me do something I hated. But I think my totem led him to do it. The spirit of the Cave Lion knew how much I wanted a baby.”

“What does this Broud have to do with your baby? The Great Earth Mother blesses when She chooses. Was your son of his spirit?”

“Creb said spirits made babies. He said a woman swallowed the spirit of a man’s totem. If it was strong enough, it would overcome the spirit of her totem, take its life force, and start a new life growing in her.”

“That’s an odd way of looking at it. It’s the Mother who chooses the man’s spirit to mix with the woman’s spirit when She blesses a woman.”

“I don’t think spirits make babies. Not spirits of totems, or spirits mixed by your Great Mother. I think life starts when a man’s organ is full and he puts it inside a woman. I think that’s why men have such strong needs, and why women want men so much.”

“That can’t be, Ayla. Do you know how many times a man can put his manhood inside a woman? A woman couldn’t have that many children. A man makes a woman, with the Mother’s Gift of Pleasure; he opens her so the spirits can enter. But the Mother’s most sacred Gift of Life is given only to women. They receive the spirits and create life, and become mothers like Her. If a man honors Her, appreciates Her Gifts, and makes a commitment to take care of a woman and her children, Doni may choose his spirit for the children of his hearth.”