The Land of Painted Caves (Earth's Children 6)

Before She was through, Her children loved too.

The drumbeats slowed imperceptibly. Everyone knew this was the end; there was only one line left, yet somehow they were held waiting, not knowing why. It made them nervous, drove up the tension. When the drums got to the end of the verse, they didn’t stop; instead the drums continued with unfamiliar words.

H-e-e-er la-a-ast G-i-i-ift, th-e-e-e …

The people listened carefully, but still weren’t sure what they had heard. Then Ayla stood alone, slowly repeating the verse, with emphasis.

Her last Gift, the Knowledge that man has his part.

His need must be spent before new life can start.

It honors the Mother when the couple is paired,

Because woman conceives when Pleasures are shared.

Earth’s Children were Blessed. The Mother could rest.

That didn’t belong. That was new! They had never heard that part before. What did it mean? People felt uneasy. For as long as anyone knew or remembered, for long before anyone remembered, the Mother’s Song had been the same, except for insignificant variations. Why was it different now? The meaning of the words hadn’t yet penetrated. It was disquieting enough that new words were added, that the Mother’s Song had changed.

Suddenly the last fire was put out. It was so black, no one dared move. “What does it mean?” a voice called out. “Yes, what does it mean?” came an echoing question.

But Jondalar was not asking. He knew. Then it’s true, he thought. Everything Ayla has always said is true. Though he’d had time to think about it, even his mind struggled with the implications. Ayla had always told him Jonayla was his daughter, his true daughter, of his flesh, not just his spirit. She had been conceived because of his actions. Not some amorphous spirit that he couldn’t see, mixed up in some vague way by the Mother inside Ayla with her spirit. He did it. He and Ayla both. He had given Ayla his essence with his manhood, his organ, and that was combined with something inside Ayla to make life begin.

Not every time. He had put a lot of his essence inside her. Maybe it took a lot of essence. Ayla had always said she wasn’t sure exactly how it worked, only that it was a man and woman together that made life start. The Mother had given Her children the Gift of Pleasures to make life begin. Shouldn’t starting a new life be a Pleasure? Is that why the urge to spend his essence inside a woman was so strong? Because the Mother wanted Her children to make their own children?

He felt as though his body had a new sense to it, as though it had come alive in some way. Men were necessary. He was necessary! Without him there would have been no Jonayla. If it had been some other man, she would not be Jonayla. She was who she was because of both of them, Ayla and him. Without men, there could be no new life.

Around the periphery, torches were being lit. People started getting up, milling around. Food was being uncovered and set out in several different areas. Each Cave, or group of related Caves, had a feasting place so no one would have to wait too long to eat. Except for children, most people hadn’t eaten much all day. Some were too busy, some wanted to save room for the feast, and while it wasn’t required, it was considered more proper to eat sparingly before the main meal on feast days.

People were talking as they headed toward the food, asking each other questions, still feeling uneasy.

“Come on, Jondalar,” Joharran said. Jondalar didn’t hear. He was so lost in his own thoughts, the crowd around him did not exist.

“Jondalar!” Joharran said again, and shook his shoulder.

“What?” Jondalar said.

“Come on, they are serving the food.”

“Oh,” the younger brother said, his mind still whirling as he stood up.

“What do you think it all means?” Joharran asked as they started walking.

“Did you see where Ayla went?” Jondalar said, still oblivious to everything

except his own thoughts.

“I haven’t seen her, but I imagine she’ll join us before long. It was quite a ceremony. It took a lot of work and planning. Even the zelandonia need to relax and eat once in a while,” Joharran said. They walked a few steps. “What do you think that meant, Jondalar? That last verse to the Mother’s Song?”

Jondalar finally turned to look at his brother. “It meant what it said, ‘man has his part.’ It’s not just women who are Blessed. No new life can begin without a man.”

Joharran frowned, showing the furrows on his brow that matched his brother’s. “Do you really think so?”

Jondalar smiled. “I know so.”

As they approached the area where the Ninth Cave had gathered to feast, various strong drinks were being handed out. Someone put watertight woven cups in both Joharran’s and Jondalar’s hands. They took a taste, but it wasn’t what either expected.

“What’s this?” Joharran said. “I thought it would be Laramar’s brew. It’s nice, but it’s rather light.”