The Shelters of Stone (Earth's Children 5)

She nodded her head with a look of exasperation. “I don’t think of it as a secret, Jondalar.”

“But you never would tell anyone how you did it.”

“That’s because I was never sure if what I did really made a difference, or if it would work for anyone else,” Marthona said. “I don’t know why I did it the first rime, but I watched Zelandoni do something similar with one of her medicinal drinks, and it seemed to give it a potent magic. I wondered if it might add some magic to my wine, too. It does seem to work,” Marthona said.

“Well, tell us,” Jondalar said. “I always knew you did something special.”

“I watched Zelandoni chew some herbs when she made a certain medicine, so the next rime I crushed, the berries for wine, I chewed some and spat the juice into the mash before it began to ferment. I think it’s strange that something like that should make a difference, but apparently it does.”

“Iza taught

me that there are some medicines and some special drinks that must be chewed with the mouth to make them work,” Ayla said. “Perhaps mixing the berries for wine with a little of the juices from the mouth adds some special in gradient.” She had never thought of it before, but it was possible.

“I ask Doni to help make the fruit juice into wine, too. Maybe that’s the real secret,” Marthona said. “If you don’t ask for too much, sometimes the Mother will give you what you want. When you were little, it never used to fail for you, Jondalar. If you asked Doni for it, you always seemed to get what you really wanted. Is that still true?”

Jondalar reddened slightly. He didn’t realize anyone else knew, but he should have guessed Marthona would. “Usually,” he said, looking away from her direct stare.

“Has She ever not given you what you asked for?” his mother pressed.

“Once,” he said, squirming with discomfort.

She watched him, then nodded. “Yes, I imagine that was too much even for the Great Earth Mother to let you have. I don’t think you’re sorry now, are you?”

Everyone looked puzzled by the rather cryptic conversation between mother and son. Jondalar was noticeably disconcerted. Ayla watched them, then it suddenly came to her that Marthona was talking about Zelandoni, or rather Zolena, the young woman she had been.

“Did you know digging in hallowed ground is one thing only men do, Ayla?” Willamar said, changing the subject to cloak the awkward moment. “It would be too dangerous to expose the Blessed of Doni to such dangerous forces.”

“And I’m glad, too,” Folara said. “It’s bad enough to have to clean and dress a person whose spirit is gone. I hate having to do that! I was so happy when you asked me to look after Wolf earlier today, Ayla. I invited all my friends over, and told them to bring their little sisters and brothers. Wolf met a lot of people.”

“No wonder he’s so tired,” Marthona said, glancing toward the wolf, who was in his sleeping place. “I’d go to sleep after a day like that.”

“I don’t think he’s sleeping,” Ayla said. She knew the difference between his resting and sleeping postures. “I’m sure you are right, though. He is tired. He does love little ones, but they wear him out.”

They all turned with a start at a gentle knock on the panel beside the entrance, though they had been expecting it. “The zelandonia are ready.” It was Joharran's voice. The five of them inside quickly swallowed the last of their wine and went out. Wolf followed them out, but Ayla tied him with the special rope to a firmly planted stake not far from Marthona’s dwelling to keep him away from the burial ceremony that everyone would be attending.

Many people had already gathered around the burial shelter. There was a soft hum of conversation as people greeted each other and talked, but in low voices. The wall panels had been removed and Shevonar’s body was exposed for all to see, lying on the grass-mat shroud and netted hammock that would be folded around him later to carry him to the burial place. But first he would be carried to the Gather Field, which was large enough for all the people from the six Caves in the region that had taken part in the hunt to come together.

Jondalar had gone off with his brother and several others shortly after they reached the area. Marthona and Willamar knew their parts in the forthcoming rituals and hurried to take their places. Ayla didn’t know what to do and was feeling at a loss. She decided she would stay in the background and observe, and hope she wouldn’t do anything that might embarrass her or Jondalar’s family.

Folara introduced the foreign woman her brother had brought back to some of her friends, several young women, and two young men. Ayla was talking to them, or at least trying to. They had already heard so many stories about her, they were awestruck and either tongue-tied with shyness or babbling to overcompensate. She didn’t hear her name being called at first.

“Ayla, I think they want you,” Folara said when she noticed Zelandoni coming toward them.

“You’ll have to excuse her,” the donier said to Ayla’s young admirers, a bit abruptly. “She needs to be in front with the zelandonia.” Ayla followed the woman. Behind her, the young people were even more impressed. When they were out of hearing range of the youngsters, the woman spoke softly to Ayla. “The zelandonia don’t eat at a burial. You will walk with us, but then you will join Jondalar and Marthona at the head of the line to get your food for the feast.”

Ayla didn’t question why she would be walking with the fasting zelandonia but eating with Jondalar’s family, though she thought about it later. She had no idea what was expected of her. She could only follow when they started across the bridge up to Down River and continued on to the Gather Field.

The zelandonia did not eat because it was necessary to fast to communicate with the next world, which would be necessary during the burial. Afterward, the First planned to make an extended metaphysical excursion to contact the elan of Thonolan. It was always difficult to travel to the next world, but she was accustomed to it now and knew what she had to do. Fasting was a part of the life of the zelandonia, and she sometimes wondered why she continued to grow in size, when often she did not eat. Perhaps she made up for it the next day, but it did not seem to her that she ate more than others. She was aware that many people felt that her tremendous size contributed to her presence and her mystique. Her only objection was that she was beginning to find it more difficult to move comfortably. Bending over, climbing a slope, and sitting on the ground or, rather, getting up again were all harder, but the Mother seemed to want her to be substantial, and if it was Her wish, the donier was willing.

From the food being spread out near the high wall at the back, far away from the place where the body was placed, it was evident that many people had been working very hard to prepare it. “This is like a small Summer Meeting,” Ayla heard someone say, and thought, If this is small, how big is a Zelandonii Summer Meeting? With something close to two hundred people from the Ninth Cave alone, plus the people from five other Caves, all of them rather populous, Ayla knew she would never be able to remember all of them. She didn’t think there were even enough counting words for them all. She could only think of them as something like a herd of bison when they came together for mating or migrating.

When the six Zelandonia and the six leaders of the Caves arranged themselves around the burial shelter, which had been taken down, carried to the field, and erected again, people began to sit down on the ground and grow quiet. Someone had filled a large plate with choice portions from the feast, including a whole shank of bison. The One Who Was First picked it up and held it high for everyone to see. Then she placed it beside Shevonar’s body.

“The Zelandonii hold this feast in your honor, Shevonar,” she said, addressing the dead man. “Please join us in spirit so that we may wish your elan Good Journey as you travel to the next world.”

Then the rest of the people lined up to take their portions. Most of the time, when there was a feast, people fell into line at random, but this was a formal public occasion, one of the few times when there was a specific order. People lined up according to their understood but seldom displayed status in order to announce their place in this world to the spirits of the next, and to assist the elan of Shevonar in making the difficult transition.

The grieving mate, Relona, and her two children were first, since it was Shevonar’s funeral, followed by his brother, Ranokol. Joharran and Proleva and Jaradal filed behind them, then Marthona and Willamar along with Folara, Jondalar—the highest-ranking members of the Ninth Cave—and Ayla.