The Plains of Passage (Earth's Children 4)

Jondalar hadn't realized that in his anger, he had been speaking in his native tongue. "You speak Zelandonii?" he said to the man with surprise, but his overwhelming need came first. "Then tell them to get these ropes off me before I make a mess all over myself!"

The man spoke to one of the women. She answered, shaking her head, but he spoke again. Finally she took a knife out of a sheath at her waist, and with a command that made the rest of the women surround him with pointing spears, she stepped forward and motioned him around. He turned his back to her and waited while she hacked at his bindings. They must need a good flint knapper around here, he couldn't help but think. Her knife is dull.

After what seemed forever, he felt the ropes fall away. Immediately he reached to unfasten his closure flap, and, too much in need to be embarrassed, he pulled out his organ and frantically looked for a corner or some out-of-the-way place to go. But the spear-holding women would not let him move. In anger and defiance, he purposely turned to face them and, with a great sigh of relief, let his water come.

He watched them all as the long yellow stream slowly emptied his bladder, steaming as it hit the cold ground and raising up a strong smell. The woman in command seemed appalled, though she tried not to show it. A couple of the women turned their heads or averted their eyes; others stared in fascination, as if they'd never seen a man pass his water before. The older man was trying very hard not to smile, though he couldn't hide his delight.

When Jondalar was through, he tucked himself back in and then faced his tormentors, determined not to let them tie his hands again. He addressed himself to the man. "I am Jondalar of the Zelandonii, and I am on a Journey."

"You Journey far, Zelandonii. Maybe ... too far."

"I have traveled much farther. I wintered last year with the Mamutoi. I am returning home now."

"That's what I thought I heard you speaking before," the old man said, shifting into the language in which he was much more fluent. "There are a few here who understand the language of the Mammoth Hunters, but the Mamutoi usually come from the north. You came from the south."

"If you heard me speaking before, why didn't you come? I'm sure there's been some misunderstanding. Why was I tied up?"

The old man shook his head, Jondalar thought with sadness. "You will find out soon enough, Zelandonii."

Suddenly the woman interrupted with a spate of angry words. The old man started to limp away, leaning on a staff.

"Wait! Don't go! Who are you? Who are these people? And who is that woman who told them to take me here?" Jondalar asked.

The old man halted and looked back. "Here, I am called Ardemun. The people are the S'Armunai. And the woman is ... Attaroa."

Jondalar missed the emphasis that had been put on the name of the woman. "S'Armunai? Where have I heard that name before ... wait ... I remember. Laduni, the leader of the Losadunai..."

"Laduni is leader?" Ardemun said.

"Yes. He told me about the Sarmunai when we were traveling east, but my brother didn't want to stop," Jondalar said.

"It's well you didn't, and too bad you are here now."

"Why?"

The woman in command of the spear holders interrupted again with a sharp order.

"Once I was a Losadunai. Unfortunately, I made a Journey," Ardemun said as he limped out of the earthlodge.

After he left, the woman in command said some sharp words to Jondalar. He guessed that she wanted to lead him someplace, but he decided to feign complete ignorance.

"I don't understand you," Jondalar said. "You'll have to call Ardemun back."

She spoke to him again, more angrily, then poked her spear at him. It broke the skin, and a line of blood trickled down his arm. Anger flared in his eyes. He reached over and touched the cut, then looked at his bloody fingers.

"That wasn't necess—" he started to say.

She interrupted with more angry words. The other women circled him with their weapons as the woman walked out of the earthlodge; then they prodded Jondalar to follow. Outside, the cold made him shiver. They went past the palisaded enclosure, and though he couldn't see in, he sensed that he was being watched through the cracks by those inside. The whole idea puzzled him. Animals were sometimes driven into surrounds like that, so they couldn't get away. It was a way of hunting them, but why were people kept there? And how many were in there?

It's not all that large, he thought, there can't be too many in there. He imagined how much work it must have taken to fence in even a small area with wooden stakes. Trees were scarce on the hillside. There was some woody vegetation in the form of brush, but the trees for the fence had to come from the valley below. They had to chop the trees down, trim them of branches, carry them up the hill, dig holes deep enough to hold them upright, make rope and cord, and then tie the trees together with it. Why had these people been willing to put forth so much effort for something that made so little sense?

He was led toward a small creek, largely frozen over, where Attaroa and several women were overseeing some young men who were carrying large, heavy mammoth bones. The men all looked half-starved, and he wondered where they found the strength to work so hard.

Attaroa eyed him up and down once, her only acknowledgment of him, then ignored him. Jondalar waited, still wondering about the behavior of these strange people. After a while he became chilled, and he began moving around, jumping up and down and beating his arms trying to warm himself. He was getting more and more angry at the stupidity of it all, and, finally deciding he wasn't going to stand there any longer, he turned on his heel and started back. In the earthlodge, at least he'd be out of the wind. His sudden movement caught the spear wielders by surprise, and when they put up their phalanx of points, he pushed them aside with his arm and kept on going. He heard shouts, which he ignored.

He was still cold when he got inside the earthlodge. Looking around for something to warm himself, he strode to the round structure, ripped off the leather cover, and wrapped it around him. Just then several women burst in, brandishing their weapons again. The woman who'd pricked him before was among them, and she was obviously furious. She lunged at him with her spear. He ducked aside and grabbed for it, but they were all stopped in their tracks by harsh and sinister laughter.

"Zelandonii!" Attaroa sneered, then spoke other words that he didn't understand.