The Land of Painted Caves Page 8

  The First had various journeys planned for Ayla. She wanted to take her to meet some of the Zelandonii Caves that were farther away and visit their sacred places, and perhaps meet some of the people who were neighbors of the Zelandonii who lived near the boundaries of their territory. But Zelandoni had a feeling that the young woman, after coming so far to get here, might not be especially interested in making the extended trip she had in mind for her. She hadn’t really mentioned anything about the Donier Tour that acolytes were expected to make.

  She began to think that, perhaps, she ought to agree to allowing the horses to pull her on that thing; it might encourage Ayla to make the excursions. The large woman wasn’t really interested in being dragged around by horses, and if she were honest with herself, she’d have to admit that the idea actually frightened her, but she had faced worse fears in her life. She knew the effect Ayla’s control of the animals would have on people; they likely would be a little frightened, and very impressed. Maybe one day she ought to see what it would be like to sit on this pole-drag thing.

  “Perhaps sometime we’ll try to see if your Whinney can pull me,” Zelandoni said, and watched a large grin expand across the young woman’s face.

  “This is as good a time as any,” Ayla said, thinking it might be best to take advantage of the woman’s agreeable mood before she changed her mind, and watched the startled look appear on the face of the One Who Was First.

  Just then, the drape covering the entrance was pulled back and Jondalar strode in. He could see Zelandoni’s startled expression and wondered what had brought it on. Ayla stood up and they greeted each other with a light embrace and a touching of cheeks, but their strong feelings for each other were obvious and did not escape their visitor’s attention. Jondalar glanced toward the baby’s place and noticed that she was sleeping, and then he walked to the older woman and greeted her in a similar fashion, still wondering what had disconcerted her.

  “And Jondalar can help us,” Ayla added.

  “Help you with what?” he said.

  “Zelandoni was talking about making some trips this summer to visit other Caves, and I thought it would be easier and faster using horses.”

  “It probably would, but do you think Zelandoni could learn to ride?” Jondalar asked.

  “She wouldn’t have to. We could make a comfortable seat on the pole-drag for her and Whinney could pull her,” Ayla said.

  Jondalar’s forehead wrinkled as he thought about it, then he nodded his head. “I don’t see why not,” he said.

  “Zelandoni said sometime she’d be willing to try to see if Whinney could pull her, and I said, ‘This is as good a time as any.’ ”

  Zelandoni glanced at Jondalar and detected a glint of enjoyment in his eyes, then looked at Ayla and tried to think of a way to put it off. “You said you would have to make a seat. You don’t have one made yet,” she said.

  “That’s true, but you didn’t think Whinney could pull you. You don’t need a seat to try it and see if she can. I don’t have any doubt, but it might reassure you, and give us a chance to think about how to make a seat,” Ayla said.

  Zelandoni felt that somehow she had been snared. She didn’t really want to do this, especially not right away, but she didn’t think she could get out of it now. Then, recognizing that in her eagerness to have Ayla begin her Donier Tour, she had done it to herself, she heaved a big sigh and stood up. “Well, let’s get it over with then,” she said.

  When she lived in her valley, Ayla had thought of a way to use her horse to transport things of considerable size and weight, such as an animal she had hunted—and once, Jondalar, wounded and unconscious. It consisted of two poles attached together at the shoulders of the horse with a kind of strap made of thongs that went across Whinney’s chest. The opposite ends of the poles spread out and rested on the ground behind the horse. Because only the very small surface area of the ends of the poles were dragged on the ground, it was relatively easy to pull them, even over rough terrain, especially for the sturdy horses. A platform made of planks or leather hides or basketry fibers was stretched across the poles to carry the loads, but Ayla wasn’t sure if the flexible platform would hold the large woman without bending down to the ground.

  “Finish your tea,” Ayla said as the woman started to get up. “I need to find Folara or someone to watch Jonayla. I don’t want to wake her up.”

  She returned quickly, but not with Folara. Instead Lanoga, Tremeda’s daughter, followed Ayla in, carrying her youngest sister, Lorala. Ayla had tried to assist Lanoga and the rest of the children almost since she arrived. She couldn’t ever remember being so angry with anyone as she was with Tremeda and Laramar because of the way they neglected their children, but there was nothing she could do about it—nothing anyone could do—except help the young ones.

  “We won’t be gone long, Lanoga. I should be back before Jonayla wakes up. We’re just going to the horse shelter,” Ayla said, then added, “There’s some soup behind the fireplace with several good pieces of meat left and a few vegetables, if you or Lorala are hungry.”

  “Lorala might be. She hasn’t eaten since I brought her to Stelona to nurse this morning,” Lanoga said.

  “You have something, too, Lanoga,” Ayla said as they were leaving. She thought Stelona had probably given her something to eat, but was sure the girl hadn’t eaten since the morning meal either.

  When they were some distance from the dwelling, and Ayla was sure she wouldn’t be overheard, she finally voiced her anger. “I’m going to have to go over there and check to see if there’s any food for the children.”

  “You brought food over there two days ago,” Jondalar said. “It shouldn’t be all gone yet.”

  “You must know that Tremeda and Laramar are eating it, too,” Zelandoni said. “You can’t prevent them. And if you bring grain or fruit, or anything that will ferment, Laramar will take it and add it to the birch sap for his barma. I’ll stop by on the way back for the children and take them with me. I can find someone to give them an evening meal. You shouldn’t be the only one feeding them, Ayla. There are enough people in the Ninth Cave to make sure those children get enough to eat.”

  When they reached the horse shelter, Ayla and Jondalar gave Whinney and Gray some individual attention. Then from the end of a post, Ayla got the special harness she used for the pole-drag and led the mare outside. Jondalar wondered where Racer was, and looked over the edge of the stone porch at The River to see if he could catch sight of him, but he didn’t seem to be nearby. He started to whistle for him, then changed his mind. He didn’t need the stallion now. He would look for him later, after they got Zelandoni on the travois.

  Ayla looked around the horse shelter and noticed some planks that had been pried out of a log with wedges and a maul. She had planned to make additional feeding boxes for the horses with them, but then Jonayla was born, and they kept using ones she had made before, and she never got around to making more. Since they were kept under the overhanging ledge, protected from the worst of the weather, they seemed to be usable.

  “Jondalar, I think we need to make a platform that won’t bend so easily, for Zelandoni. Do you think we could fasten these planks across the poles to use as a base for a seat?” Ayla asked.

  He looked at the poles and the planks, and then at the abundantly endowed woman. His forehead wrinkled in a familiar knot. “It’s a good idea, Ayla, but the poles are flexible, too. We can try it, but we may have to use sturdier ones.”

  There were always thongs or cords around the horse shelter. Jondalar and Ayla used some to fasten the planks across the poles. When they were done, the three of them stood back and looked at their handiwork.

  “What do you think, Zelandoni? The planks are slanting, but we can fix that later,” Jondalar said. “Do you think you could sit on them?”

  “I’ll try, but it may be a little high for me.”

  While they were working, the Donier had become interested in the apparatus they were making
, and was curious herself to see how it would work. Jondalar had devised a halter for Whinney similar to the one he used for Racer, though Ayla seldom used it herself. She usually rode bareback with only a leather riding blanket, directing the animal with her position and the pressure of her legs, but for special circumstances, especially when other people were involved, it gave her an added measure of control.

  While Ayla put the halter on the mare, making sure Whinney was calm, Jondalar and Zelandoni went to the reinforced travois behind the horse. The planks were a bit high, but Jondalar lent his strong arm and gave her a boost. The poles did bend under her weight, enough that her feet could touch the ground, but it gave her the feeling that she could get down easily enough. The slanting seat did feel somewhat precarious, but it wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be.

  “Are you ready?” Ayla asked.

  “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Zelandoni said.

  Ayla started Whinney at a slow walk in the direction of Down River. Jondalar walked behind, smiling encouragingly at Zelandoni. Then Ayla led the horse under the overhanging shelf and made a wide complete turn until they were facing in the opposite direction, and headed toward the east end of the front ledge, toward the dwellings.

  “I think you should stop now, Ayla,” the woman said.

  Ayla stopped immediately. “Are you uncomfortable?” she said.

  “No, but didn’t you say you wanted to make a real seat for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then the first time you take me for everyone to see on this, I think it would be better to have the seat fixed up the way you want it, because you know people will be looking and appraising,” the large woman said.

  Ayla and Jondalar were taken aback for a moment, then Jondalar said, “Yes, You are probably right.”

  In the next breath, Ayla said, “That means you would be willing to ride on the pole-drag!”

  “Yes, I think I could become used to it. It’s not like I couldn’t get off anytime I wanted to,” the great Donier said.

  Ayla wasn’t the only one working on traveling gear. The entire Cave had various items spread out in their dwellings or outside workplaces. They needed to make or repair sleeping rolls, traveling tents, and certain structural elements of the summer shelters, although most of the materials to make them would be gathered at the campsite. Those who had made objects as gifts or for trade, especially those who were proficient in certain crafts, had to make decisions regarding what and how much to bring. Those walking could carry only a limited amount with them, especially since they also had to carry food, both for immediate use and for gifts and special feasts, clothing, and sleeping rolls and other necessities.

  Ayla and Jondalar had already decided to make new pole-drags for Whinney and Racer—the ends of the poles that dragged on the ground were the part that wore down first, especially when dragging heavy loads. After several people had made requests, they had offered the additional carrying power of the horses to family and close friends, but even the sturdy horses could take only so much.

  From the beginning of spring, the Cave had hunted meat and collected plants—berries, fruits, nuts, mushrooms, edible stems, leaves and roots of vegetables, wild grains, even lichen and the inner bark of certain trees. Though they would bring a small amount of fresh food recently hunted or foraged, most of their food was dried. Drying preserved food for a long time and it weighed less, allowing them to carry more to eat while traveling and after they arrived until hunting and gathering patterns could be established at the location of the current year’s Summer Meeting.

  The site of the annual gathering changed every year in a regular cycle of suitable places. There were only certain areas that could accommodate a Summer Meeting and any area could only be used for one season and then had to rest for several years before it could be used again. With so many people congregated in one place—somewhere between one and two thousand people—by the end of the summer they would have used up all the resources for some distance around, and the earth needed to recover. The year before they had followed The River north about twenty-five miles. This year they would be traveling west until they reached another waterway, West River, which ran generally parallel to The River.

  Joharran and Proleva were inside their dwelling finishing a midday meal along with Solaban and Rushemar. Ramara, Solaban’s mate, and her son Robenan, had just left with Jaradal, Proleva’s son, both of whom could count six years. Sethona, her baby daughter, had fallen asleep in Proleva’s arms and she had just stood up to put her down. When they heard a tapping on the hard rawhide panel beside the entrance, Proleva thought that Ramara had probably forgotten something and returned, and was surprised when a much younger woman entered at her call to come into the dwelling.

  “Galeya!” Proleva said, rather surprised. Though Galeya had been friends with Joharran’s sister, Folara, almost from birth, and often came to their dwelling with her friend, she seldom came alone.

  Joharran looked up. “Are you back already?” he said, then turned to the others. “Since she’s such a fast runner, I sent Galeya to the Third Cave earlier this morning to find out when Manvelar plans to leave.”

  “When I got there, he was just going to send a runner to you,” Galeya said. She was a little out of breath, and her hair was wet from the sweat of her effort. “Manvelar said the Third Cave is ready to leave. He wants to start tomorrow morning. If the Ninth Cave is ready to go, he would like to travel with us.”

  “That’s a little sooner than I had planned, I was thinking of leaving in the next day or so,” Joharran said, his frown lines showing. He looked at the others. “Do you think we can be ready to go by tomorrow morning?”

  “I can,” Proleva said, without hesitation.

  “We probably can,” Rushemar said. “Salova has finished the last of the baskets she wanted to take with her. We haven’t packed, but I have everything ready.”

  “I’m still sorting through my handles,” Solaban said. “Marsheval came by yesterday to talk about what he should bring. He seems to have a talent for working with ivory, too, and is gaining skill,” he added with a smile. Solaban’s craft was making handles, mostly for knives, chisels, and other tools. Though he could make handles out of antler and wood, he particularly liked working with mammoth tusk ivory and had begun making other objects from it, like beads and carvings, especially since Marsheval had become his apprentice.

  “Can you be ready to leave by tomorrow morning?” Joharran asked. He knew Solaban often agonized to the last moment over the decision of which handles to bring with him to the Summer Meeting, for gifts and for trading.

  “I suppose I can,” Solaban said, then coming to a decision, “Yes, I’ll be ready, and I’m sure Ramara can be, too.”

  “Good, but we need to find out about the rest of the Cave so I can send a runner back to Manvelar. Rushemar, Solaban, we need to tell everyone that I’d like to have a short meeting, as soon as possible. You can say what it’s about if anyone asks and tell them that whoever comes to represent each hearth should be able to decide for the rest,” he said. He dumped the last remnants left in his personal eating bowl into the fire, then wiped it and his eating knife with a damp piece of buckskin before putting them into a carrying pouch attached to his belt. He’d run them under water when he had a chance. As he got up he said to Galeya, “I don’t think you need to run back there again. I’ll send another runner.”

  She looked rather relieved, then smiled. “Palidar runs fast. We were racing with each other yesterday, and he almost beat me.”

  Joharran had to stop and think a moment; the name wasn’t immediately familiar to him. Then he remembered the lion hunt. Galeya had hunted with a young man from the Third Cave, but Palidar had also been with them on the hunt. “Isn’t he a friend of Tivonan, the young man Willamar has been taking with him on trading missions?”

  “Yes. He came back with Willamar and Tivonan last time, and decided he might as well go with us to the Summer Meeting and meet
his Cave there.” Galeya said.

  Joharran nodded. It was acknowledgment enough. He didn’t know if he would send the visitor, or someone else who was a member of the Ninth Cave, but he was aware that Palidar seemed to be of interest to Folara’s friend Galeya, and obviously the young man had found a reason for staying. If there was a possibility that he might someday become a member of the Ninth Cave, Joharran wanted to know more about him, and tucked the thought away in his memory. He had more pressing issues to think about at the moment.

  Joharran knew that at least one person from each dwelling would be present at his meeting, but as people started coming out, he saw that nearly everyone wanted to find out why the leader was calling a sudden meeting. When they had gathered in the work area, Joharran stepped up on the large flat stone that had been placed there so that he, or anyone who had something to say, could be seen more easily.

  “I spoke with Manvelar not long ago,” Joharran began without preamble. “As you know, the site of the Summer Meeting this year is the big field near West River and a tributary near the Twenty-sixth Cave. Manvelar’s mate was from the Twenty-sixth Cave, and when her children were young they used to visit often to see her mother and family. I know how to get there by going south to Big River, then west to another river that joins with West River, and then following it north to the Summer Meeting place, but Manvelar knows a more direct way, starting out at Wood River and going west from here. We’d get there more quickly, and I had hoped we could travel with the Third Cave, but they are leaving tomorrow morning.”

  There was a murmuring from the gathered assembly, but before anyone could speak out, Joharran continued. “I know you like to have a few days’ warning before we leave, and I usually try to do that, but I’m sure most of you are nearly ready to go. If you can pack and be ready by morning, we can travel with the Third Cave and get there much faster. The sooner we get there, the better our chances will be of finding a good place to set up our camp.”