“We never got there,” Ayla said. “We’ve been helping Bologan and Lanoga build their lodge.”
“Bologan and Lanoga?” Marthona said. “What happened to Laramar and Tremeda?”
“Lanoga said they got into a fight. Laramar decided to go to a fa’lodge, took his things and left, and Tremeda chased after him and didn’t come back,” Ayla said. It was obvious that she was having some trouble controlling her anger. “Those children were trying to build a lodge by themselves with nothing but tent posts and wet floor mats. They didn’t have any food either. I nursed Lorala a little, but if you have any milk, Proleva, she could probably use some more.”
“Where is their lodge?” Willamar said.
“At the edge of the camp, near the horses,” Ayla said.
“I’ll watch the children, Proleva,” Marthona said. “Why don’t you and Willamar see what you can do.” She turned to Ayla. “I’ll watch Jonayla, too, if you like.”
“She’s almost asleep,” Ayla said, indicating where she was to Marthona. “Tremeda’s children could use a few more floor mats, especially since they don’t have enough sleeping rolls. When I left, Jondalar and Bologan were finishing up the roof.”
The three of them hurried toward the nearly completed small dwelling. They could hear Lorala crying as they approached. To Proleva, it sounded like the fussiness of a baby who was overtired, and maybe hungry. Lanoga was holding her, trying to settle her down.
“Why don’t you let me see if she’ll nurse a little,” Proleva said to the girl.
“I just changed her padding, stuffed it with her nighttime sheep’s wool,” Lanoga said, handing the toddler to Proleva.
When she offered her breast, the baby went for it eagerly. Since her own mother’s milk had dried up more than a year before, many other women had taken turns feeding her and she was used to taking milk from any woman who offered. She also ate different kinds of solid food that Ayla had taught Lanoga to make for her. Considering her difficult beginning, Lorala was a remarkably healthy, happy, gregarious, though somewhat undersized child. The women who fed her took a certain pride in her good health and good nature, knowing that they had contributed to it. Ayla knew that they had kept the baby alive, but Proleva knew it was Ayla’s idea originally, after she discovered that Tremeda’s milk had dried up.
Ayla, Proleva, and Marthona found some additional skins and furs that they didn’t mind giving up for the children to use as sleep coverings, and more food. Willamar, Jondalar, and Bologan collected some wood.
The structure was nearly finished when Jondalar noticed Laramar coming. He stopped some ways back, and stared at the small summer lodge, frowning.
“Where did this thing come from?” he asked Bolagan.
“We built it,” the boy said.
“You didn’t build it by yourselves,” Laramar said.
“No, we helped him,” Jondalar interjected, “since you weren’t here to do it, Laramar.”
“No one asked you to butt in,” Laramar sneered.
“Those children had no place to sleep!” Ayla said.
“Where’s Tremeda? They’re her children; she’s supposed to see to them,” Laramar said.
“She left after you did, chasing after you,” Jondalar said.
“Then she’s the one who left them, not me,” Laramar said.
“They are the children of your hearth; they are your responsibility,” Jondalar said with disgust, struggling to contain his anger, “and you left them without shelter.”
“They had the traveling tent,” Laramar said.
“The leather of your traveling tent was rotten. After it got soaked, it fell apart,” Ayla said. “They had no food either, and several of them are hardly more than babies!”
“I assumed Tremeda would get some food for them,” Laramar said.
“And you wonder why you are the lowest ranked,” Jondalar said with scorn and a look of disgust.
Wolf was aware that something seriously distressing was going on between the people of his pack and the man he didn’t like. He wrinkled his nose and started growling at Laramar, who jumped back to stay out of his way.
“Who are you to tell me what to do?” Laramar said. He was now getting defensive. “I shouldn’t be the lowest ranked. It’s your fault, Jondalar. You’re the one who suddenly came back from a Journey with a foreign woman and you and your mother connive to put her ahead of me. I was born here; she wasn’t. She should be the lowest ranked. Some people may think she’s special, but anybody who lived with Flatheads is not special. She’s an abomination, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. I don’t have to put up with you, Jondalar, or your insults,” Laramar said, then turned and stomped off.
Ayla and Jondalar looked at each other after Laramar left. “Is there truth in what he says?” Ayla asked. “Should I be ranked lowest because I am a foreigner?”