The Shelters of Stone (Earth's Children 5)

“I don’t recall much, I was pretty young,” Jondalar said. “She was short. I remember that she had big, beautiful eyes, dark like Brukeval’s, brownish, but not really dark brown, more hazel. People used to say her eyes were her best feature.”

“Brownish, like Guban’s eyes?” Ayla asked.

“Now that you mention it, I guess they were.”

“Are you sure Brukeval’s mother didn’t have the look of the Clan, like Echozar … and Rydag?”

“I don’t think she was considered very pretty, but I don’t recall her having browridges, like Yorga. She never did mate. I guess men weren’t too interested in her.”

“How did she get pregnant?”

She could see Jondalar’s smile even in the dark. “You are convinced that it takes a man, aren’t you? Everyone just said the Mother Blessed her, but Zolena … Zelandoni once told me that she was one of those rare women who was Blessed immediately after First Rites. People always think that’s too young, but it happens.”

Ayla was nodding in agreement. “What happened to her?”

“I don’t know. Zelandoni said she was never very healthy. I think she died when Brukeval was quite young. He was raised by Marona’s mother, she was a cousin of Brukeval’s mother, but I don’t think she cared much for him. It was more an obligation. Marthona used to watch him sometimes. I remember playing with him when we were little. Some of the older boys picked on him even then. He has always hated it when someone called him a flathead.”

“No wonder he was so furious at Charezal. At least now I understand. But that look …” Ayla shuddered again. “He looked just like Broud. As long as I can remember, Broud hated me. I don’t know why. He just hated me and nothing I ever did could change it. For a while I tried, but I will tell you, Jondalar. I would never want Brukeval to hate me.”

Wolf looked up in greeting when they entered Marthona’s dwelling. He had found Ayla’s sleeping furs and curled up near them when she told him to “go home.” Ayla smiled when she saw his eyes glowing in the light of the one lamp Marthona had left burning. He licked her face and throat in eager welcome when she sat down. Then he welcomed Jondalar.

“He’s not used to so many people,” Ayla said.

When he went back to Ayla, she held his head between her hands and looked into his shining eyes. “What’s the matter, Wolf? A lot of strangers to get used to? I know how you feel.”

“They won’t be strangers for long, Ayla,” Jondalar said. “Everyone already loves you.”

“Except Marona and her friends,” Ayla said, sitting up and loosening the ties of the soft leather top that was meant to be winter underwear for boys.

He was still disturbed over the way Marona had treated her, and so was she, it seemed. He wished that she hadn’t had to be put through such an ordeal, especially her first day here. He wanted her to be happy with his people. She would soon be one of them. But he was proud of the way she had handled it.

“You were wonderful. The way you put Marona in her place. Everyone thought so,” he said.

“Why did those women want people to laugh at me? They don’t know me, and they didn’t even try to get acquainted.”

“It’s my fault, Ayla,” Jondalar said, stopping in the middle of unlacing the ties around the upper portion of his footwear that was wrapped around the calf of one leg. “Marona had every right to expect me to be there for the Matrimonial that summer. I left without explanations. She must have been terribly hurt. How would you feel if you and everyone you knew expected you to mate someone who didn’t show up?”

“I would be very unhappy, and angry at you, but I hope I wouldn’t try to hurt someone I didn’t know,” Ayla said, loosening the waist ties of her leggings. “When they said

they wanted to fix my hair, it made me think of Deegie, but I combed my own hair when I looked in the reflector and saw what they did. I thought you told me the Zelandonii were people who believed in courtesy and hospitality.”

“They do,” he said. “Most of them.”

“But not everyone. Not your former women friends. Maybe you should tell me who else I should watch out for,” Ayla said.

“Ayla, don’t let Marona color your opinion about everyone else. Couldn’t you tell how much most people liked you? Give them a chance.”

“What about the ones who tease orphan boys and turn them into Brouds?”

“Most people are not like that, Ayla,” he said, looking at her with a troubled expression.

She exhaled a long sigh. “No, you’re right. Your mother is not like that, or your sister, or the rest of your kin. Even Brukeval was very nice to me. It’s just that the last time I saw that expression was when Broud told Goov to put a death curse on me. I’m sorry, Jondalar. I’m just tired.” Suddenly she reached for him, buried her face in his neck, and let out a sob. “I wanted to make a good impression on your people, and make new friends, but those women didn’t want to be friends. They just pretended they did.”

“You did make a good impression, Ayla. You couldn’t have made a better one. Marona always did have a temper, but I was sure she would find someone else while I was gone. She is very attractive, everyone always said she was the Beauty of the Bunch, the most desirable woman at every Summer Meeting. I guess that’s why everyone expected us to mate,” he said.

“Because you were the most handsome and she was the most beautiful?” Ayla asked.

“I suppose,” he said, feeling himself flush and glad for the faint light. “I don’t know why she isn’t mated now.”