The Shelters of Stone (Earth's Children 5)

“Losaduna is fortunate to have found a woman like her. Just as I was fortunate to find Willamar,” Marthona said. “I was very reluctant to mate again, but I’m glad he persisted.” She turned to smile at him. “I suppose that’s one reason I finally passed on the leadership. I was leader for many years with Willamar beside me, and we never had a problem over it, but I grew tired of the demands. I wanted some time to myself, and I wanted to have some time to share with Willamar. After Folara came along, I wanted to be a mother again. Joharran seemed to have the potential, so I started to prepare him, and when he was old enough, I was glad to pass the responsibility on to him. He is very much like Joconan, I’m sure he’s the son of Joconan’s spirit.” She smiled at her eldest son. “I still keep a hand in. Joharran often consults with me, though I think he does it for my sake, not his.”

“That’s not true, mother. I value your advice,” Joharran said.

“Did you love Dalanar very much, mother?” Jondalar asked. “You know there are songs and stories about your love.” He had heard them, but he’d often wondered, if it was really so strong, how could they have parted?

“Yes, I loved him, Jondalar. A small part of me still does. It is not easy to forget someone you have loved that much, and I’m glad we are still friends. I think we are better friends now than when we were mated.” She noticed her elder son. “I still love Joconan, too. His memory remains with me and reminds me of when I was a young woman and in love for the first time, even though it took him a while to decide what he wanted,” she added rather cryptically.

Jondalar remembered the story he had heard about his mother on his Journey. “You mean between you and Bodoa or both?” he asked.

“Bodoa! I haven’t heard that name in a long time,” Zelandoni said. “Isn’t she the foreign woman who was being trained by the zelandonia? From some eastern people, what were they called? Zar … Sard … something.”

“S’Armunai,” Jondalar said.

“That’s it. I was still young when she left, but it’s said she was quite skilled,” Zelandoni said.

“She is S’Armuna now. Ayla and I met her on our Journey. The S’Armunai Wolf Women captured me, and Ayla followed their trail and came after me. We were lucky to get away from them alive. If it hadn’t been for Wolf, I don’t think either one of us would be here. You can imagine how surprised I was to find someone among those people who not only knew how to speak Zelandonii, but knew my mother!”

“What happened?” several people asked.

Jondalar briefly related the story of the cruel woman Attaroa and the S’Armunai Camp she had perverted. “Although S’Armuna helped Attaroa in the beginning, she regretted it and finally decided to help her people and try to correct the problems Attaroa caused.” Everyone shook their heads in wonder.

“That’s the most oudandish story I’ve ever heard,” Zelandoni said, “but it shows what can happen when a donier becomes warped. I think Bodoa could have gone far if she hadn’t abused her power. It’s lucky for her that she finally came to her senses. It is said One Who Serves The Mother will pay in the next world if they misuse their power in this one. That’s one reason the zelandonia are so careful about whom they accept. There is no turning back. It’s one way we are different from leaders of a Cave. A Zelandoni is a Zelandoni for life. Even if we may sometimes want to, we cannot drop the burden.”

Everyone was quiet for a while, thinking about the story Jondalar had told. They looked up when Ramara came by. “I’m supposed to let you know, Joharran, that they brought the rhino in. Jondalar gets credit, it was his spear that killed him.”

“I’m glad to hear that, thank you, Ramara.”

Ramara would have liked to stay and hear what everyone was talking about, but she did have other things to do, and she wasn’t specifically invited, although no one would have told her go.

“You have first choice, Jondalar,” Joharran said after she left. “Are you going to take the horn?”

“I don’t think so. I’d rather have the fur.”

“Tell me what happened out there with that rhino,” Joharran asked.

Jondalar told how they happened to see the young men baiting the woolly rhinoceros and stopped to watch. “I didn’t realize how young they were until after the accident. I don’t think they wanted the rhino as much as they wanted admiration and praise, and to be the envy of their friends.”

“None of them had any experience with rhinos, and not much with hunting. They shouldn’t have tried to get one on their own. This was a hard way for them to learn that hunting rhinos, or any animal, is not really a game,” Joharran said.

“But it is true that if they had brought in that woolly rhinoceros by themselves, they would have been highly praised, and the envy of their friends,” Marthona said. “In one sense, this accident, terrible as it was, may help prevent future attempts and even worse tragedies. Think how many youngsters would be trying the same thing if they had succeeded. This way, it may make others think again before they attempt such a game, at least for a while. The mother of this young man may suffer and worry, but it may spare other mothers even more grief. I just hope Matagan survives without severe crippling.”

“As soon as Ayla saw the rhino gore him, she raced to help,” Jondalar said. “It’s not the first time she’s rushed into a dangerous situation when someone is hurt, but she worries me sometimes.”

“He was very lucky that she was there. I’m sure he would be crippled for life, or worse, if someone hadn’t been there who knew what to do,” Zelandoni said, then to Ayla: “Exactly what did you do first?”

Ayla explained in general. Zelandoni drew her out for more detail, and her reasoning. In the guise of interested conversation, Zelandoni was examining Ayla’s knowledge of the healing arts. Though she hadn’t mentioned it yet, the One Who Was First was trying to arrange a formal meeting of the zelandonia so they could learn the extent of Ayla’s training, but she was glad for this opportunity to question her alone first. It was unfortunate for poor Matagan, but Zelandoni was glad for this demonstration of her skills to the whole Summer Meeting. It gave her this opportunity to begin to approach the zelandonia with the idea of her entering into their alliance.

Zelandoni had already reevaluated her first impression several times, but now she looked at the young woman in an entirely new light. Ayla was no novice. She was an equal, a true colleague. It was entirely possible that Zelandoni might learn a few things from her. Those club moss spores, for example. That was an application Zelandoni had not used,

but upon reflection, it was probably a good procedure. She was anxious to talk to Ayla alone, to compare ideas and knowledge, and it would be good to have someone to talk with at the Ninth Cave.

Zelandoni did work with the other zelandonia in the region and discussed professional matters with colleagues during the Summer Meetings. She had a couple of acolytes, of course, though she had no serious acolyte interested in healing. To have a true healer within her own Cave, especially one who brought new knowledge, that could be very worthwhile.

“Ayla,” Zelandoni said, “it might be a good idea to talk to Matagan’s family.”

“I’m not sure I know what to say to them,” Ayla said.

“They must be worried, and I think they might like to know what happened. I’m sure it would help if you reassure them.”