The Plains of Passage (Earth's Children 4)

"A woman of the Clan learns to anticipate the needs of her mate." She smiled. "And you are my mate, aren't you?"

He smiled back. "Without doubt, my woman of the Clan. And we'll announce it to all the Zelandonii at the Matrimonial of the first Summer Meeting we join. But how can you anticipate needs? And why must Clan women learn that?"

"It's not difficult. You just think about someone. It was hot today, and I thought about making a head covering ... making a sun hat ... for myself, so I knew it must be hot for you, too," she said, picking up another willow withe to add to the broadly conical hat that was beginning to take shape. "Men of the Clan don't like to ask tor anything, especially for their own comfort. It is not considered manly behavior for them to think about comfort, so a woman must anticipate a man's needs. He protects her from danger; it's her way of protecting him, to make sure he has the right clothing and eats well. She doesn't want anything to happen to him. Who would protect her and her children then?"

"Is that what you are doing? Protecting me so I will protect you?" he asked, grinning. "And your children?" In the firelight, his blue eyes were a deep violet, and they sparkled with fun.

"Well, not exactly," she said, looking down at her hands. "I think it's really the way a Clan woman tells her mate how much she cares for him, whether she has children or not." She watched her rapidly moving hands, though Jondalar had the feeling that she didn't need to see what she was doing. She could have made the hat in the dark. She picked up another long twig, then looked directly at him. "But I do want to have another child before I get too old."

"You have a long way to go for that," he said, putting another piece of wood on the fire. "You're still young."

"No, I'm getting to be an old woman. I am already..." She closed her eyes to concentrate as she pressed her fingers against her leg, saying the number words he had taught her, to verify to herself the right word for the number of years she had lived. ". . . Eighteen years."

"That old!" Jondalar laughed. "I have seen twenty-two years. I'm the one who is old."

"If it takes us a year to travel, I will be nineteen years when we reach your home. In the Clan, that would be almost too old for child-bearing."

"Many Zelandonii women have children at that age. Maybe not their first, but their second or third. You are strong and healthy. I don't think you're too old to have children, Ayla. But I will tell you this. There are times when your eyes seem ancient, as though you've lived many lifetimes in your eighteen years."

It was an unusual thing for him to say, and she stopped her work to look at him. The feeling she evoked in him was almost frightening. She was so beautiful in the light of the fire, and he loved her so much, he didn't know what he would do if anything ever happened to her. Overcome, he looked away. Then, to ease the moment, he tried to introduce a lighter subject.

"I'm the one who should worry about age. I'd be willing to wager that I will be the oldest man at the Matrimonial," he said, then laughed. "Twenty-three is old for a man to be mated for the first time. Most men my age have several children at their hearths."

He looked at her, and she saw again that look of overwhelming love and fear in his eyes. "Ayla, I want you to have a child, too, but no

t while we're traveling. Not until we're safely back. Not yet."

"No, not yet," she said.

She worked quietly for a while, thinking about the son she had left behind with Uba, and about Rydag, who had been like her son in many ways. Both of them lost to her. Even Baby, who was, in a strange way, like a son—at least, he was the first male animal she found and cared for—had left her. She would never see him again. She looked at Wolf, suddenly worried that she might lose him, too. I wonder, she thought, why is my totem taking all my sons away from me? I must be unlucky with sons.

"Jondalar, do your people have any special customs about wanting children?" Ayla asked. "Women of the Clan are always supposed to want sons."

"No, not really. I think men want a woman to bring sons to his hearth, but I think women like to have daughters first."

"What would you like to have? Someday?"

He turned to study her in the light of the fire. Something seemed to be bothering her. "Ayla, it doesn't matter to me. Whatever you want; or whatever the Mother gives you."

Now it was her turn to study him. She wanted to be sure he really meant it. "Then I think I'm going to wish for a daughter. I don't want to lose any more children."

Jondalar didn't quite know what she meant and didn't know how to respond. "I don't want you to lose any more children, either."

They sat quietly while Ayla worked on the sun hats. Suddenly, he asked, "Ayla, what if you are right? What if children are not given by Doni? What if they are started by sharing Pleasures? You could have a baby starting inside you right now, and not even know it."

"No, Jondalar. I don't think so. I think my moon time is coming on," she said, "and you know that means no babies have started."

She didn't usually like to talk about such personal matters with a man, but Jondalar had always been comfortable around her then, not like the Clan men. A woman of the Clan had to be especially careful not to look directly at a man when she was going through her woman's curse. But even if she wanted to, she couldn't exactly go into seclusion or avoid Jondalar while they were traveling, and she sensed that he needed reassurance. She considered, for a moment, telling him about Iza's secret medicine that she had been taking to fight off any impregnating essences, but she couldn't do it. Ayla could no more tell a lie than Iza could, but, short of a direct question, she could retrain from mentioning it. If she didn't bring it up, it wasn't likely that a man would think to ask if she was doing something to prevent pregnancy.

Most people wouldn't think it was possible that such powerful magic could exist.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said. "I am not pregnant. No baby has started growing inside me." He relaxed then.

As Ayla was finishing up the sun hats, she felt a soft sprinkling of rain. She hurried to finish. They brought everything inside the tent with them, except the parfleche hanging from the poles, and even the damp Wolf seemed happy to curl up at Ayla's feet. She left the lower part of the entrance flap open for him, in case he needed to go out, but they closed the smoke-hole flap when the rain began coming down harder. They cuddled together when they first lay down, then rolled over, but they both had trouble sleeping.

Ayla was feeling anxious, and achy, but she tried not to toss and turn too much so she wouldn't disturb Jondalar. She listened to the pattering of rain on the tent, but it didn't full her to sleep the way it usually did, and after a long while she wished it were morning so she could just get up and leave.