The Plains of Passage (Earth's Children 4)

Dolando stopped suddenly and looked hard at the man. "Is she a shamud?" he asked.

"She is a member of the Mammoth Hearth."

A short, rather plump young woman spoke up then. "If she is Mamut, where is her tattoo?"

"We left before she was fully trained, Tholie," Jondalar said, then smiled at her. The young Mamutoi woman hadn't changed a bit. She was just as direct and outspoken as ever.

Dolando closed his eyes and shook his head. "That's too bad," he said, his eyes speaking his despair. "Roshario fell and hurt herself."

"Darvo told me. He said Shamud died."

"Yes, last winter. I wish the woman was a competent healer. We sent a messenger to another Cave, but their shamud had gone on a trip. A runner has gone to a different Cave, upstream, but they are farther away, and I'm afraid it is already too late to do any good."

"The training she lacked was not as a healer. Ayla is a healer, Dolando. A very good one. She was trained by..." Suddenly Jondalar recalled one of Dolando's few blind spots. "...the woman who raised her. It's a long story, but believe me. She is competent."

They had reached Ayla and the animals, and she listened and watched Jondalar attentively as he spoke. There were some similarities between the language he was speaking and Mamutoi, but it was more by observation that she sensed the meaning of his words and understood that he had been trying to convince the other man of something. Jondalar turned to her.

"Ayla of the Mamutoi, this is Dolando, leader of the Shamudoi, the land-living half of the Sharamudoi," Jondalar said in Mamutoi. He then changed to Dolando's language: "Dolando of the Sharamudoi, this is Ayla, Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth of the Mamutoi."

Dolando hesitated a moment, eying the horses and then the wolf. He was a handsome animal, standing watchfully and quietly beside the tall woman. The man was intrigued. He had never been so close to one before, only to a few skins. They didn't often hunt wolf, and he had only seen them from a distance or ru

nning for cover. Wolf looked up at him in a way that made Dolando think he was being evaluated in return, then turned back to observe the others. The animal didn't seem to be posing any threat, Dolando thought, and perhaps a woman who had such control over animals was a skilled shamud, regardless of her training. He offered both hands, palms open and up, to the woman.

"In the name of the Great Mother, Mudo, I welcome you, Ayla of the Mamutoi."

"In the name of Mut, the Great Earth Mother, I thank you, Dolando of the Sharamudoi," Ayla said, taking both his hands.

The woman has a strange accent, Dolando thought. She speaks Mamutoi, but it does have an odd quality. She doesn't exactly sound like Tholie. Maybe she's from a different region. Dolando knew enough Mamutoi to understand it. He had traveled to the end of the great river several times in his life to trade with them, and he had helped to bring back Tholie, the Mamutoi woman. It had been the least he could do for the Ramudoi leader, to help the son of his hearth mate the woman he was determined to have. Tholie had made sure that many people knew her language, and it had been useful on subsequent trading expeditions.

Dolando's acceptance of Ayla had opened the way for everyone to welcome Jondalar back and to meet the woman he had brought with him. Tholie stepped forward, and Jondalar smiled at her. In a complex way, through his brother's mating, they were kin, and he was fond of her.

"Tholie!" he said, smiling broadly as he took both of her hands in his. "I can't tell you how wonderful it is to see you."

"It is wonderful to see you, too. And you have certainly learned to speak Mamutoi well, Jondalar. I must admit there were times when I doubted if you would ever be fluent."

She let go of his hands to reach up and give him a welcoming hug instead. He bent over and, on impulse, because he was so happy to be there, he picked the short woman up to give her a proper embrace. Slightly disconcerted, she blushed, and it occurred to her that the tall, handsome, sometimes moody man had changed. She didn't recall that he was so spontaneously demonstrative with his affections in the past. When he put her down, she studied the man, and the woman he had brought, sure she had something to do with it.

"Ayla of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, meet Tholie of the Sharamudoi, formerly of the Mamutoi."

"In the name of Mut or Mudo, whatever you call Her, I welcome you, Ayla of the Mamutoi."

"In the name of the Mother of All, I thank you, Tholie of the Sharamudoi, and I am very happy to meet you. I have heard so much about you. Don't you have kin in the Lion Camp? I think Talut said you were related when Jondalar mentioned you," Ayla said. She sensed that the perceptive woman was studying her. If Tholie didn't know already, she would soon discover that Ayla had not been born to the Mamutoi.

"Yes, we are related. Not close, though. I came from a southern Camp. The Lion Camp is farther north," Tholie said. "I know them, though. Everyone knows Talut. He's hard not to know, and his sister, Tulie, is very much respected," Tholie said.

That is not a Mamutoi accent, she thought, and Ayla is not a Mamutoi name. I'm not even sure if it's an accent, just a strange way of saying some words. She speaks well, though. Talut always was one for taking people in. He even took in that complaining old woman, and her daughter who mated way beneath her status. I would like to know more about this Ayla, and those animals, she thought, then looked at Jondalar.

"Is Thonolan with the Mamutoi?" Tholie asked.

The pain in his eyes told her the answer before he said the words. "Thonolan is dead."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Markeno will be, too. I can't say I didn't expect it, though. His desire to live died with Jetamio. Some people can recover from tragedy, some cannot," Tholie said.

Ayla liked the way the woman expressed herself. Not without feeling, but open and direct. She was still very much a Mamutoi.

The rest of the Cave who were present greeted Ayla. She sensed reserved acceptance, but curiosity. Their greeting to Jondalar was much less restrained. He was family; there was no doubt that they considered him one of them, and he was warmly welcomed home.

Darvalo was still holding the hat-basket of blackberries, waiting until all the greetings were finished. He held them up to Dolando. "Here are some berries for Roshario," he said.