The Plains of Passage (Earth's Children 4)

"I told you he likes to be scratched. So do the horses," Ayla said, signaling Whinney forward.

Darvalo glanced at Jondalar. He was just standing and smiling, like there was nothing strange at all about a woman who scratched wolves and horses.

"Darvalo of the Sharamudoi, this is whinny." Ayla said Whinney's name as a soft nicker, the way she had first named the horse, and when she said it, she sounded exactly like a horse. "That's her real name, but sometimes we just call her Whinney. It's easier for Jondalar to say."

"Can you talk to horses?" Darvalo said, completely overwhelmed.

"Anyone can talk to a horse, but a horse doesn't listen to everyone. You have to get to know each other first. That's why Racer listens to Jondalar. He got to know Racer when he was just a baby."

Darvalo spun around to look at Jondalar and took two steps back. "You are sitting on that horse!" he said.

"Yes, I'm sitting on this horse. That's because he knows me, Darvo. I mean, Darvalo. He even lets me sit on his back when he runs, and we can go very fast."

The young man looked like he was ready to run himself, and Jondalar swung a leg over and slid down. "About these animals, you could help us, Darvo, if you're willing," he said. The boy looked petrified and ready to bolt. "We've been traveling a long time, and I'm really looking forward to a visit with Dolando and Roshario, and everyone, but most people get a little nervous when they first see the animals. They aren't used to them. Would you walk in with us, Darvalo? I think if everyone sees that you aren't afraid to stand next to the animals, they might not be so worried, either."

The youth relaxed a little. That didn't seem so difficult. After all, he was already standing next to them, and wouldn't everyone be surprised to see him walking in with Jondalar and the animals? Especially Dolando and Roshario...

"I almost forgot," Darvalo said. "I told Roshario I would get some blackberries for her, since she can't pick them any more."

"We have blackberries," Ayla said, at the same time that Jondalar said, "Why can't she pick them?"

Darvalo looked from Ayla to Jondalar. "She fell down the cliff to the boat dock and broke her arm. I don't think it will ever be right. It wasn't set."

"Why not?" they both asked.

"There was no one to set it."

"Where's Shamud? Or your mother?" Jondalar asked.

"Shamud died, last winter."

"I'm sorry to hear that," the man interjected.

"And my mother is gone. A Mamutoi man came to visit Tholie not long after you left. He's kin, a cousin. I guess he liked my mother, and he asked her to be his mate. She surprised everyone and left to go live with the Mamutoi. He asked me to come, too, but Dolando and Roshario asked me to stay with them. So I did. I am Sharamudoi, not Mamutoi," Darvalo explained. Then he looked at Ayla and blushed. "Not that there's anything wrong with being Mamutoi," he added hastily.

"No, of course not," Jondalar said, a frown of worry on his face. "I understand how you feel, Darvalo. I am still Jondalar of the Zelandonii. How long ago did Roshario fall?"

"Summer Moon, about now," the boy said.

Ayla looked at Jondalar with a questioning glance.

"About this phase of last moon," he explained. "Do you think it's too late?"

"I won't know until I see her," Ayla said.

"Ayla is a healer, Darvalo. A very good healer. She might be able to help," Jondalar said.

"I wondered if she was shamud. With those animals and all." Darvalo paused for a moment, looking at the horses and the wolf, and nodded. "She must be a very good healer." He stood up a little taller for his thirteen years. "I'll walk in with you so no one will be afraid of the animals."

"Will you carry these blackberries for me, too? So I can stay close to Wolf and Whinney. They are sometimes afraid of people, too."

15

Darvalo led the way downhill along the path through the open wooded landscape. At the bottom of the slope they came to another path and turned right, down a more gradual incline. The new trail was a runoff for excess water during the spring melt and in rainier seasons, and though the sometime creek bed was dry at the end of a hot summer, it was rocky, which made walking difficult.

Though horses were animals of the plains, Whinney and Racer were surefooted in the mountain terrain. They had learned at a young age to negotiate the steep narrow trail up to Ayla's cave in the valley. But she still worried that the horses might injure themselves because of the unstable footing, and she was glad when they turned up another path that came from someplace downhill and continued on. The new trail was well used and wide enough in most places for two people to walk side by side, though not two horses.

After traversing the side of a steep grade and around to the right, they reached a sheer rock wall. When they came to a talus slope, Ayla felt a sense of familiarity. She had seen similar accumulations of sharp rocky debris at the base of steep walls in the mountains where she grew up. She even noticed the large white horn-shaped flowers of a stout plant with jagged leaves. The members of the Mammoth Hearth she had met called the unpleasant-smelling plant thorn-apple, because of its spiny green fruit, but it brought back memories from her childhood. It was datura. Creb and Iza had both used it, but for different purposes.