The Shelters of Stone (Earth's Children 5)

The group that had started out from the Ninth Cave had enlarged considerably, but the ones who had joined them along the way quickly dispersed, looking for friends and relatives and a place to establish their camp. Zelandoni headed for the main camp area, where the zelandonia had their own special lodge in the center of everything. They always played a majer role at the Summer Meeting. Ayla hoped that the Ninth Cave would find a place somewhat away from the major activities. It would be easier to take the animals out for exercise if they didn’t have to be led through crowds of curious people.

Jondalar had already spoken to his brother about the needs of the animals and their nervousness around so many people. Joharran had nodded and said he would keep it in mind, but privately he felt that the needs of the people of the Ninth Cave were more important than those of the animals. He wanted to be close to the centers of activity, and he hoped to find a spot near a river so it would not be such a burden to carry water, perhaps close to a tree or two for shade, and not too far from the wooded area that would supply firewood. He knew, however, that the large woods near the encampment would be denuded before the end of the season. Everybody needed firewood.

But when he, Solaban, and Rushemar started looking, Joharran quickly realized that the good, close-in spots near the woods and water were already taken. The Ninth was a sizable Cave with more people than other Caves, they needed more space for their camp, and he wanted to find a place before it got too dark. It forced Joharran to inspect the periphery of the Summer Meeting area. The large waterway had narrowed around the turn of the last bend, and he’d noticed that the banks were steeper on the downriver side of the campsite, making it harder to reach the water.

The three men went back to The River and started walking upstream. After a short distance, they saw a small runoff creek that flowed through a grassy meadow and emptied into the main river, and they turned to follow it. Somewhat back from The River, they noticed an open stand of trees. As they neared they saw that the woodland was a gallery forest lining both sides of the small stream. They headed into the woods. As they walked along the little stream, Joharran became aware that the creek was curving around the base of a hill, and the wooded area was growing thicker, becoming an actual forest that was bigger and went deeper than it seemed at first.

After some time they came to the source of the creek, a small spring that bubbled up from underground, overhung with trailing branches of willow that were framed by birch, spruce, and a few larch. A deep pool fed by the same source was on the other side of the spring. The entire countryside was full of natural springs, and like many others, this one created a small tributary to The River. Behind the trees on the other side of the pool was a fairly steep, rock-strewn slope Uttered with stones of all sizes, from tiny pebbles to massive boulders. In front of the pool was a grassy glen that led to a small open beach of soil, fine sand, and smooth, water-rounded stones, with a screen of dense brush along the near side of the pool.

It was an agreeable place, and Joharran thought that if he were by himself or with just a few people, he would set up camp right there, but with the whole Cave, they not only needed more room, they needed to be closer to the main campsite. The three men headed back along the creek, and when they reached the meadow beside The River, Joharran stopped.

“What do you think?” he asked. “It’s a little farther away from everything.”

Rushemar dipped his hand in the creek and took a taste of the water. It was cool and fresh. “This will have good water all summer. You know that by the end of the season both the stream through the main campsite and The River in front of the camp and downstream will not be fresh and clean anymore.”

“And everyone else will be using the big woods for firewood,” Solaban said. “This area won’t get as much use, and there’s more here than it seems.”

The Ninth Cave set up their camp on the grassy level meadow between the woods and The River close to the small stream. Most people agreed it was a good enough campsite. No other Cave was likely to set up their lodges upstream from them and muddy their water, it was too far from the center of activities. Their water would stay clean for their own swimming, bathing, and washing of clothes. The spring-fed stream would provide clear drinking water no matter how befouled The River might become after hundreds of people used it for their needs.

The woods offered shade and firewood, and it appeared small enough that it would not draw too many people in search of the same resources, at least not for a while. Most would head for the larger grove of trees farther downstream. The woods, along with the meadow, also provided wild vegetables—berries, nuts, roots, leaves—and small game. Fish were plentiful in The River, as were freshwater mollusks. The site had many advantages.

Its major disadvantage was the distance people would have to walk to reach the area where most of the activities would take place. Some people did think it was too far, primarily those who had family or close friends in other Caves that had already made their camp in places they thought were more desirable. Several of those decided to camp with others. In a way, Jondalar was glad. It would make room for Dalanar and the Lanzadonii when they arrived, if they wouldn’t mind being somewhat out of the way.

To Ayla, it was perfect. The animals would have a place away from the thronging masses of people, with a meadow for them to graze in. The animals were already the objects of increased attention, which meant, of course, that Ayla was, too. She remembered how skittish Whinney, Racer, and Wolf had been when they had first arrived at the Mamutoi gathering, though they seemed to accept large numbers of people more easily now, perhaps even better than she did. People spoke out openly, and Ayla couldn’t help hearing. The)’ seemed to be especially astonished at how well the horses and the wolf tolerated each other—they actually appeared to be friends—and how well they all responded to the foreign woman and Marthona’s son.

She and Jondalar rode up the stream and found the idyllic glen with its pond. It was exactly the sort of place they loved. It was so perfect for them, it made them feel it was theirs, though of course anyone could use it, but Jondalar doubted that it would be used much. Most people came to the Summer Meeting for the group activities and had less need for moments of solitude than Ayla, or the animals, or, he had to admit, himself. She was delighted to discover that the dense brush was mostly hazelnut shrubs, one of her most favorite foods. The nuts were not ripe yet, but it looked as if it would be a good crop, and Jondalar was already planning to come back to see if any of the rocks and stones on the slope on the far side of the pond were flint.

After the people settled in and began surveying their location, most thought it was a choice spot. Joharran was pleased to have arrived soon enough to lay claim to it. He felt it would have been chosen sooner had there not been a second and somewhat larger tributary that meandered through the middle of the large field that encompassed the Summer Meeting. Most of the earner-arriving Caves had arranged themselves along the banks of that stream, knowing the waters of The River would soon become polluted from overuse. It was the area Joharran first tried, but he was pleased now that he had looked farther afield.

Jondalar thought that his conversation with his brother had made him consider looking for a place that would be comfortable for the horses and mentioned that he appreciated it. Joharran didn’t correct him. He knew he had been concerned for the comfort of the people, but perhaps the comment about the animals ha

d stayed in the back of his mind and helped him find the place. He couldn’t say it wasn’t true, and if it made his brother feel a little indebted to him, he didn’t mind. It could be hard enough leading such a big Cave, and he never knew when he might have to call upon Jondalar for assistance.

Since it was so late, they decided to wait until morning to erect their summer lodges, and used their traveling tents that night. Once the camp was established, a few people went to the main area, seeking friends or relatives they had not seen since the last Summer Meeting and to see what was planned for the next day; but most people were tired and decided to stay close by. Many looked over the local area, deciding exactly where they wanted to situate their camp and their individual lodges and to locate where various vegetation grew, particularly the materials they would need to construct their summer residences.

Ayla and Jondalar tethered the horses near the woods and stream, feeling it would be best to keep them secured, more to protect them from people than to restrain them. They would have liked to give them more freedom, but perhaps, after the entire encampment was familiar with them and would not be tempted to hunt them, they could let them wander as they wished, as they did near the Ninth Cave.

In the morning, after they were sure the horses were settled down, Jondalar and Ayla accompanied Joharran as he went to the Summer Meeting’s main area in search of other leaders. Decisions needed to be made about hunting, foraging, and sharing the products of those excursions, and to plan activities and ceremonies, including the first summer Matrimonial. Wolf paced alongside Ayla. Everyone had heard of the woman who had an uncanny control over animals, but hearing was not the same as seeing. As they threaded their way between campsites, stares of consternation followed them, and if a person didn’t happen to see them approach and was suddenly confronted with the sight, the first response was shock and fear. Even people who knew Joharran and Jondalar gaped instead of calling out greetings.

They were walking behind some low bushes, which hid the wolf, when a man approached them. “Jondalar, I heard you were back from your Journey, and brought a woman with you,” he called out, running up. “I’d like to meet her.” His speech had a strange impediment that Ayla couldn’t quite place, then she realized he spoke somewhat like a child, but with a man’s voice. He had a lisp.

Jondalar looked up and frowned. The man was not someone he was particularly happy to see. In fact, it was the one person of all the Zelandonii that he hoped he would not see, and he did not like the assumed friendliness, but he felt he had no choice but to make the introduction.

“Ayla of the Mamutoi, this is Ladroman of the Ninth Cave,” he said, not realizing that he had introduced her with her former status. His voice was as neutral as he could make it, but Ayla immediately detected the disapproving undertone and glanced at him. The tension of his jaw showed he was just short of gritting his teeth, and the stiff, unwelcoming posture gave her further clues that this was not someone he was pleased to see.

The man held out both hands and smiled, showing his two missing front teeth, as he moved toward her. She thought she knew who he might be, but the empty space in the front of his mouth confirmed it. This was the man Jondalar had fought with; Jondalar had hit this man and knocked out those two front teeth. As a result, Jondalar had had to leave the Ninth Cave and went to live with Dalanar for a while, which, as it turned out, was probably the best thing that could have happened. It gave him a chance to get to know the man of his hearth and to learn the skill he ultimately grew to love—knapping flint—from the one who was acknowledged the best.

Ayla had learned enough about the tattooed facial markings to realize that the man was an acolyte, training to become a Zelandoni. Then, to her surprise, she felt Wolf brush against her leg as he moved forward to put himself between her and the stranger, and she heard his low warning growl. The only time the wolf ever did that was when he felt she was threatened. Maybe he’s sensing Jondalar’s stiffness and rejection, she thought, but for some reason, Wolf did not like this man, either. The man hesitated, stepping back, his eyes opened wide with fear.

“Wolf! Stay back,” she said in Mamutoi as she stepped ahead to respond to the formal greeting. “I grrreet you, Ladrrroman ob the Ninth Cave.” She took both his hands. They were damp.

“It’s not Ladroman anymore, or the Ninth Cave. I am Madroman of the Fifth Cave of the Zelandonii now, and an acolyte in the zelandonia. You are welcome here, Ayla of the … what was that name? Muh, Mutoni?” he said, watching the wolf, whose growl had increased in volume. He immediately let go of her hands. He had noticed her accent, but the wolf had so disconcerted him, he hardly paid attention.

“And she is not Ayla of the Mamutoi anymore, Madroman,” Joharran corrected. “She is now Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii.”

“You’ve been accepted by the Zelandonii already? Well, Mamuto or Zelandonii, I’m glad we happened to meet, but I have to go … to a meeting, now,” he said, backing away as fast as he could. He turned around and almost ran back the way he had come. Ayla looked at the two brothers. They were grinning with almost identical smiles.

Joharran saw a group of the people he was looking for. Zelandoni was among them. She motioned the three over, but it was the fourth, Wolf, who got most of the attention. Ayla signaled him back while formal introductions were made. She didn’t know if he would react to someone else the way he had to Madroman. Several people were surprised when the foreign woman with the strange accent was introduced as Zelandonii, formerly Mamutoi, but it was explained that since there was no question about where she would live after she and Jondalar were mated, the Ninth Cave had already accepted her.