“If we’re all going to say what we think, and get it out in the open,” Jondecam said, “you have an unusual way of speaking, Ayla. It takes a little getting used to, but I like it. It makes people take notice and listen. You must come from very far away, though.”
“Farther away than you can imagine,” Jondalar said.
“And I want to ask one more thing,” Jondecam added. “Where is that wolf? Other people have talked about meeting him, and I was hoping to meet him.”
Ayla smiled at the man. He was so straightforward and honest, she couldn’t help but like him, and so relaxed and comfortable with himself, he made everyone else feel the same way. “Wolf is with Marthona. I thought it might be easier on him and everyone else if he stayed away. But if you stop by the Ninth Cave’s camp, I’ll be happy to introduce him to you, and I have a feeling he will like you, too,” she said. “All of you are welcome,” she said, looking at everyone, including the young couple, who were actually smiling in a natural and relaxed way.
“Yes, by all means,” Jondalar added. He liked these couples that they had met, but particularly Levela, who was an outgoing and caring young woman, and Jondecam, who reminded him of his brother Thonolan.
They noticed that the First was standing in the center of the lodge, silently waiting for everyone’s attention. When she had it, she spoke to them all, telling them of the seriousness of the commitment they were making, repeating some of the things she had said to the women earlier, and giving them some instructions on what was expected of them at the Matrimonial. Then some of the other zelandonia told them where they were supposed to stand and explained where to walk and what to say They went through a rehearsal of the steps and movements.
Before they left, the First spoke to them again. “Most of you know this, but I want to say it now so it is clear. After the Matrimonial, for a period of half of a moon’s cycle—approximately fourteen days using the counting words—the newly mated couples are not allowed to speak to anyone except each other. Only in the case of dire emergency are you to communicate with anyone else, and then only to a donier, who will decide if it was important enough to break the ban. I want you to understand why this is done. It is a way of forcing a couple together to see if they can really live with each other. At the end of the time, if they decide that their mating is incompatible, any couple can decide to break the tie with no consequences. It would be as if they had never mated.”
The Zelandoni Who Was First knew most of the couples looked forward to the ban, delighted with the idea of spending time together totally involved with only each other. But at the end, she knew, there would likely be one or two couples who would quietly decide to go their separate ways. She looked carefully at each person trying to judge which couples might last. She was also trying to assess which of the couples would not last even fourteen days. Then she wished them all well and told them the Matrimonial would be the following evening.
Ayla and Jondalar were not concerned that their time alone would prove their union incompatible. They had already spent the better part of a year with only each other for company, except for the brief stops at a few Caves along the route of their Journey. They both looked forward to their period of forced intimacy, especially since there would be no pressures to keep traveling.
After leaving the lodge, the four couples walked together toward their camps. Janida and Peridal turned off first. Before they left, Janida held out both hands to Levela. “I want to thank you,” she said, “for including us and making us welcome. When we walked in, it felt like everybody was staring at us, and I didn’t know what to do. But I noticed when we left, that people were looking at Joplaya and Echozar, and Ayla and Jondalar, and even you and Jondecam. Maybe everyone was staring at everyone else, but you were the one who made me feel a part of something, not separate and outside of it.” She leaned forward and brushed Levela’s cheek with hers.
“Janida is an intelligent young woman,” Jondalar said after they continued on. “Peridal is lucky to get her, and I hope he appreciates her.”
“There does seem to be some real affection between them,” Levela said. “I wonder why he was resisting the mating?”
“I would guess the resistance was more from his mother than from him,” Jondecam said.
“I think you are right,” Ayla said. “Peridal is very young. His mother still has a lot of influence on him. But so is Janida. How many years can each of them count?”
“I think both can count thirteen years. She just barely, he is some moons older, closer to a fourteen-year,” Levela said.
“I am an old man next to him,” Jondalar said. “I can count a double handful more, twenty-three years. Peridal hasn’t even had a chance to live in a fa’lodge yet.”
“And I am an old woman,” Ayla said. “I can count nineteen years.”
“That’s not so old, Ayla. I can count twenty years,” Joplaya said.
“What about you. Echozar?” Jondecam said. “How many years can you count?”
“I have no idea,” he said. “No one ever told me, or even kept track, as far as I know.”
“Have you ever tried to think back and remember each year?” Levela asked.
“I have a good memory, but childhood to me is a blur, each season just fading into the next,” Echozar said.
“I can count seventeen years,” Levela said.
“I’m a twenty-year,” Jondecam volunteered. “And here’s our camp. We will see you tomorrow.” They waved farewell with the beckoning come-back-to-see-us-again motion to the four who continued toward the combined camp of Zelandonii and Lanzadonii.
Ayla woke early on the day she and Jondalar were to be mated. The faint light that preceded the rising sun glimmered feebly through the cracks between the nearly opaque panels of the lodge, highlighting the seams and outlining the opening. She lay still, trying to distinguish details in the shadowy shapes silhouetted against the walls.
She could hear Jondalar’s regular breathing. She raised up quietly and looked at the face of the man sleeping beside her in the dim light. The fine straight nose, the square jaw, the high forehead. She remembered the first time she had studied his face while he slept, in the cave of her valley. He was the first man of her own kind she had seen, that she could recall, and he had been badly wounded. She didn’t know if he would live, but she thought then that he was beautiful.
She thought so still, although she had learned since that men were not usually called beautiful. Her love for the man swelled to fill her whole being. It was almost more than she could bear, almost painful, excruciatingly full, wonderfully warm. She could hardly contain herself. She got up quietly, dressed quickly, and slipped outside.
She looked out over the camp. From the slightly higher elevation
of their campsite she could see The River Valley spread out before her. In the near darkness, the lodges appeared as black mounds rising out of the shadowy earth, each round structure with its center pole supporting the multi-dwelling units. The camp was still now, so different from the bustling, noisy, boisterous place it would be later.
Ayla turned toward the small creek and followed it upstream. It was growing perceptibly lighter, blotting out more of the twinkling sparks in the sky. The horses in their fenced-in enclosure noticed her approach and nickered softly in greeting. She veered toward them, ducking under the poles strung between posts that defined their area. She put her arm around the hay-colored mare’s neck.