The northern arm of the Great Mother River, with its meandering network of channels, was the winding, twisting upper boundary of the extensive delta. Brush and trees hovered close to the outer edge of the river, but beyond the narrow border, away from the immediate source of moisture, the woody vegetation quickly gave way to steppe grasses. Riding almost due west through the dry grassland, close to the wooded strip but avoiding the sinuous turns of the river, Ayla and Jondalar followed the left bank upstream.
They ventured into the marshy wetlands frequently, usually making camp close to the river, and they were often astonished by the diversity they found. The massive river mouth had seemed so uniform in the distance when they had viewed it from the large island, but at close hand it revealed a wide range of landscapes and vegetation, from bare sand to dense forest.
One day they rode past fields upon fields of cattails, with brown flowerheads bunched into the shape of sausages, topped by spikes covered with masses of yellow pollen. The next, they saw vast beds of tall phragmite reeds, more than twice Jondalar’s height, growing together with the shorter, more graceful variety; the slender plants grew nearer the water and were more densely packed together.
The islands formed by the deposition of suspended silt, usually long, narrow tongues of land made up of sand and clay, were buffeted by the waters of the surging river and the conflicting currents of the sea. The result was a variegated mosaic of reed beds, wetlands, steppes, and forests in many different stages of development, all subject to rapid change and full of surprises. The shifting diversity extended even beyond the boundary. The travelers unexpectedly came upon oxbow lakes that were completely cut off from the delta, between banks that had begun as isles of sedimentation in the river.
Most islands were originally stabilized by beach plants and giant lyme grass that reached nearly five feet, which the horses loved—the high salt content attracted many other grazing animals as well. But the landscape could change so rapidly that they sometimes found islands, within the confines of the immense mouth of the river, with beach plants still surviving on inland dunes beside fully mature woods, complete with trailing lianas.
As the woman and man traveled beside the great river, they often had to cross small tributaries, but the running streams were hardly noticeable as the horses splashed through them, and the small rivers were not difficult to negotiate. The wet lowlands of slowly drying channels that had changed course were another matter. Jondalar usually detoured around them. He was acutely aware of the danger of swampy fens and the soft silty soil that often formed in such places, because of the bad experience he and his brother had had when they had come that way before. But he didn’t know the dangers that were sometimes hidden by rich greenery.
It had been a long, hot day. Jondalar and Ayla, looking for a place to camp for the night, had turned toward the river and saw what appeared to be a likely possibility. They headed down a slope toward a cool, inviting glen with tall sallows shading a particularly green lea. Suddenly a large brown hare bounded into view on the other side of the field. Ayla urged Whinney on as she reached for the sling at her waist, but as they started across the green, the horse hesitated when the solid earth beneath her hooves became spongy.
The woman felt the change of pace almost immediately, and it was fortunate that her first instinctive reaction was to follow the mare’s lead, even though her mind was on securing dinner. She pulled up short just as Jondalar and Racer came pounding up. The stallion, too, noticed the softer ground, but his momentum was greater, and it carried him a few steps farther.
The man was almost thrown as Racer’s front feet sank into a slurry of thick, silty mud, but he caught himself and jumped down alongside the horse. With a sharp whinny and a wrenching twist, the young stallion, his hind legs still on solid ground, managed to pull one leg out of the sucking morass. Stepping back and finding firmer support, Racer pulled until his other foot was suddenly released from the quicksand with a slurping pop.
The young horse was shaken, and the man paused to lay a calming hand on his arching neck, then he twisted off a branch from a nearby bush and used it to prod the ground ahead. When that was swallowed, he took the third long pole, which was not used for the travois, and explored with it. Though covered with reeds and sedge, the small field turned out to be a deep sinkhole of waterlogged clay and silt. The horses’ agile retreat had averted a possible disaster, but they approached the Great Mother River with more caution from then on. Her capricious diversity could hold some unwelcome surprises.
Birds continued to be the dominant wildlife of the delta, particularly several varieties of herons, egrets, and ducks, with large numbers of pelicans, swans, geese, cranes, and some black storks and colorful glossy ibises nesting in trees. Nesting seasons varied with species, but all of them had to reproduce during the warmer times of year. The travelers collected eggs from all the different birds for quick and easy meals—even Wolf discovered the trick of cracking shells—and developed a taste for some of the mildly fishy flavored varieties.
After a time they became accustomed to the birds of the delta. There were fewer surprises as they began to know what to expect, but one evening, as they were riding close to silvery sallow woods beside the river, they came upon a stunning scene. The trees opened up on a large lagoon, almost a lake, though at first they thought it was a firmer landscape, since large water-lily plants covered it completely. The sight that had arrested their attention was hundreds of the smaller squacco herons, standing—long necks curved into an S and long beaks poised to stab at fish—on nearly every single one of the sturdy lily pads that surrounded each fragrant blooming white flower.
Beguiled, they watched for a while, then decided to leave, afraid that Wolf might come bounding up and frighten the birds off their roosts. They were a short distance beyond the place, setting up their camp, when they saw hundreds of the long-necked herons climbing into the air. Jondalar and Ayla stopped and gazed at the sight as the birds, flapping large wings, became dark silhouettes against the pink clouds of the eastern sky. The wolf came loping into camp then, and Ayla supposed he had routed them. Though he made no real attempt to catch any, he had such fun chasing the flocks of marsh birds that she wondered if he did it because he enjoyed watching them lift into the air. She was certainly awed by the sight.
Ayla woke the next morning feeling hot and sticky. The heat was already gathering force, and she didn’t want to get up. She wished they could just relax for a day. It wasn’t so much that she was tired, just tired of traveling. Even the horses need a rest, she thought. Jondalar had been pushing to keep going, and she could sense the need that was driving him, but if one day would make that much difference in crossing the glacier he kept talking about, then they were already too late. They would need more than one sure day of the right kind of weather to be certain of safe travel. But when he got up and started packing, she did, too.
As the morning progressed, the heat and humidity, even on the open plain, were becoming oppressive, and when Jondalar suggested that they stop for a swim, Ayla instantly agreed. They turned toward the river and welcomed the sight of a shaded clearing that opened to the water. A seasonal streambed that was still slightly soggy and filled with decaying leaves left only a small patch of grass, but it created a cool, inviting pocket surrounded by pines and willows. It led to a muddy backwater ditch, but a short distance beyond, at a bend in the river, a narrow, pebbly beach jutted into a quiet pool, dappled with sun filtering through overhanging willows.
“This is perfect!” Ayla said with a big smile.
As she started to unhitch the travois, Jondalar asked, “Do you really think that’s necessary? We won’t be here long.”
“The horses need a rest, too, and they might like to have a good roll or a swim,” she said, removing the pack baskets and riding blanket from Whinney. “And I’d like to wait for Wolf to catch up with us. I haven’t seen him all morning. He must have caught the scent of something wonderful that’s giving him a good chase.”
“All right,” Jondalar said, and he started untying the thongs of Racer’s pack baskets. He put them into the bowl boat beside Ayla’s and gave the stallion a friendly slap on the rump, to let him know that he was free to follow his dam.
The young woman quickly shed her few garments and waded into the pool, while Jondalar stopped to pass his water. He glanced up at her, then couldn’t look away. She was standing in shimmering water up to her knees, in a beam of sunlight coming through an opening in the trees, bathing in brilliance that lighted her hair into a golden halo, and gleamed off the bare tanned skin of her supple body.
Watching her, Jondalar was struck again by her beauty. For a moment, his strong feelings of love for her overpowered him, seeming to catch in his throat. She bent down to lift a double handful of water to splash down on herself, accenting the rounded fullness of her backside and exposing the paler skin of her inner thigh, and sending a flush of heat and wanting through him. He looked down at the member he was still holding in his hand and smiled, beginning to think of more than swimming.
She looked at him as he started into the water, saw his smile, and a familiar, compelling look in his intense blue eyes, then noticed the shape of his manhood changing. She felt a deep stirring in response; then she relaxed and a tension she didn’t realize was there, drained away. They were not going to travel anymore today, not if she could help it. They both needed a change of pace, a pleasantly exciting diversion.
He had noticed her eyes glance down at him, and at some level noted the welcome response and a slight change in her posture. Without really changing position, her stance became somehow more inviting. His reaction was obvious. He could not have hidden it if he’d wanted to.
“The water is wonderful,” she said. “It was a good idea you had, to go swimming. It was getting so hot.”
“Yes, I’m feeling a heat,” he said, with a wry grin as he waded toward her. “I don’t know how you do it, but I have no control around you.”
“Why would you want to? I don’t have any around you. You just have to look at me that way, and I’m ready for you.” She smiled, the big beautiful smile that he loved.
“Oh, woman,” he breathed as he took her in his arms. She reached up for him as he bent down to touch her soft lips with his in a firm, unhurried kiss. He ran his hands down her back, feeling her sun-warmed skin. She loved his touch and responded to his caress with an instant and surprising anticipation.
He reached lower, to her smooth rounded mounds, and pulled her toward him. She felt the full length of his warm hardness against her stomach, but the movement had unbalanced her. She tried to catch herself, but a stone gave way beneath her foot. She clutched at him for support, unbalancing him as his footing gave away. They fell into the water with a splash, then sat up, laughing.
“You’re not hurt, are you?” Jondalar asked.
“No,” she said, “but the water is cold and I was trying to ease in. Now that I’m wet, I think I’ll go for a swim. Isn’t that what we came here to do?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do other things, too,” he said. He noticed that the water reached to just under her arms, and her full breasts were floating, reminding him of the curving prows of a pair of boats with hard pink tips. He bent over and tickled a nipple with his tongue, feeling her warmth within the cool water.
She felt a shivery response and tilted her head back to let the sensation wash over her. He reached for her other breast, cupped it, then slid his hand back along her side and pulled her closer. She was feeling so sensitive, just the pressure of his palm sliding across her hard nipple sent new tingles of pleasure through her. He suckled the other, then let go and kissed her along her breast and on up her throat and neck. He blew softly in her ear, then found her lips. She opened her mouth slightly and felt the touch of his tongue, then his kiss.
“Come,” he said, when they separated, getting up and extending a hand to help her up. “Let’s go swimming.”
He led her deeper into the pool, until the water reached her waist, then pulled her close to him, to kiss her again. She felt his hand between her legs, the coolness of the water as he opened her folds, and a stronger sensation when he found her hard little node and rubbed it.
She let the feeling course through her. Then, she thought, This is happening too fast. I’m almost ready. She took a deep breath, then slipped out of his grasp and, with a laugh, splashed him.
“I think we should swim,” she said, and reached out for a few strokes. The swimming hole was small, enclosed on the opposite side by a submerged island covered with a dense reed bed. Once across it, she stood up and faced him. He smiled and she felt the force of his magnetism, of his need, of his love, and wanted him. He swam toward her as she started swimming back toward the beach. When they met, he turned and followed her.
Where the water became shallow, he stood up and said, “All right, we did our swimming,” then took her hand and led her out of the water to the beach. He kissed her again and felt her pull him closer, and she seemed to melt in his arms as her breasts and stomach and thighs pressed against his body.
“Now it’s time for other things,” he said.
Her breath caught in her throat, and he watched her eyes dilate. Her voiced quivered slightly as she tried to speak. “What other things?” she asked, with an attempt at a teasing smile.
He dropped down on the ground cover and held up his hand to her. “Come here and I’ll show you.”
She sat down next to him. He pushed her back kissing her, then, with no other preliminary, he moved to cover her, and down, pushed her legs apart, and ran his warm tongue up her cool wet folds. Her eyes opened wide for an instant as she shivered at the sudden throbbing rush that pulsed through her, feeling it deep inside. Then she felt a sweet pulling, as he suckled at her place of Pleasures.
He wanted to taste her, to drink her, and he knew she was ready. His own excitement grew as he felt her respond, and his loins ached with need as his large, slightly curving manhood swelled to its fullest. He nuzzled, nibbled, suckled, manipulating her with his tongue, then reached to taste her inside, and savored it. For all his need, he wished he could go on forever. He loved to Pleasure her.
She felt the excited frenzy growing inside her, and she moaned, then cried out as she felt the peak rising, almost reaching its crest.
If he allowed it, he could have let himself release without even entering her, but he loved that feeling of her when he was inside, too. He wished there was some way he could do it all at once.
She reached for him and lifted up to meet him as the clamorous storm within her rose, and then almost without warning, suddenly erupted. He felt her wetness and warmth, then raised himself and moving up, found her welcome entrance and, with a strong surging push, filled it completely. His eager manhood was so ready, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait.
She called out his name, reaching for him, wanting him, arching to his push. He plunged in again and felt her full embrace. Then, shuddering and groaning, he backed out, feeling the exquisite pull in his loins as his sensitive organ incited sensations deep within him. Then suddenly he was there, he could wait no more and as he pushed in again, felt the burst of Pleasures overtake him. She cried out with him, as her fierce delight overflowed.
He made a few last strokes; then he collapsed on top of her, both of them resting from the exhilarating arousal and tempestuous release. After a while, he lifted his head and she reached up to kiss him, conscious of the smell and taste of herself, which always reminded her of the incredible feelings he could evoke in her.
“I thought I wanted to make this last, take a long time, but I was so ready for you.”
“That doesn’t mean it can’t last, you know,” he said, and watched a slow smile grow.
Jondalar rolled off to his side, then sat up. “This rocky beach is not very comfortable,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t notice, but now that you mention it, there is a stone jabbing my hip, and another under my shoulder. I think we should find a softer place … for you to lie on,” she said with a sly grin and a glint in her eye. “But first, I’d like to go for a real swim. Maybe there’s a deeper channel nearby.”
They waded back into the river, swam the short distance of the pool, then continued upstream, breaking through the shallow, muddy reed bed. On the other side the water was suddenly cooler, then the ground under their feet dropped off and they found themselves in an open channel that wound through the reeds.
Ayla reached out and pulled ahead of Jondalar, but he exerted himself and caught up. They were both strong swimmers, and were soon having a friendly competition, racing along the open channel as it twisted and turned through the tall reeds. They were so evenly matched, that the smallest advantage could put one or the other into the lead. Ayla happened to be ahead when they reached a split with both new channels curving so sharply that, when Jondalar looked up, Ayla was out of sight.
“Ayla! Ayla! Where are you?” he called. There was no answer. He called out again, starting up one of the channels. It twisted around on itself, and all he could see were reeds; every place he turned, just walls of tall reeds. In a sudden panic, he called out again, “Ayla! Where in the Mother’s cold underworld are you?”
Suddenly he heard a whistle, the one Ayla used to call Wolf. A wave of relief washed over him, but it sounded much farther away than he thought it should have. He whistled back and heard her reply, then started swimming back along the channel. He reached the place where the channel split, then turned up the other fork.
It also turned back on itself and into another channel. He felt a strong current take him, and suddenly he was heading downstream. But ahead he saw Ayla swimming hard against the pull of the stream, and he swam to meet her. She kept going when he came abreast, afraid the current would take her back down the wrong channel again if she stopped. He turned around and swam upstream beside her. When they reached the fork, they stopped to rest, treading water.
“Ayla! What were you thinking of? Why didn’t you make sure I knew which way you were going?” Jondalar scolded in a loud voice.
She smiled at him, knowing now that his anger was a release of tension caused by his fear and worry. “I was just trying to keep ahead of you. I didn’t know that channel would turn back on itself so quickly, or that the current would be so strong. I was carried downstream before I realized it. Why is it so strong?”
His tension vented, and relieved that she was safe, Jondalar’s anger quickly dissipated. “I’m not sure,” he said. “It is strange. Maybe we’re close to the main channel, or the land under the water is dropping off here.”
“Well, let’s go back. This water is cold, and I’m ready for that sunny beach,” Ayla said.
Letting the current help them, their swim back was more leisurely. Though it was not as strong as the pull of the other channel, it moved them along. Ayla turned to float on her back, and she watched the green reeds slipping by and the clear blue vault above. The sun was still in the eastern sky, but high.
“Do you recall where we came into this channel, Ayla?” Jondalar asked. “It all looks so much the same.”
“There were three tall pines in a row on the riverbank, the middle one bigger. They were behind some hanging willows,” she said, then turned over to swim again.
“There are a lot of pines along the water here. Maybe we should head for the shore. We might have gone past them,” he said.
“I don’t think so. The pine on the downstream side of the big one had a funny bent shape. I haven’t seen it yet. Wait … up ahead … there it is, see it?” she said, moving toward the reed bed.
“You’re right,” Jondalar said. “Here’s where we came through. The reeds are bent.”
They clambered back across the reeds to the small pool, which now felt warm. They walked out onto the little spit of stony ground with a feeling of coming home.
“I think I’ll start a fire and make some tea,” Ayla said, running her hands down her arms to push the water off. She gathered up her hair and squeezed the water out, then headed for their pack baskets, gathering a few sticks of wood along the way.
“Do you want your clothes?” Jondalar asked, dropping more wood.
“I’d rather dry off a little first,” she said, noting that the horses were grazing on the steppes nearby, but not seeing any sign of Wolf. She felt a twinge of worry, but it wasn’t the first time he had gone off alone for half a day. “Why don’t you spread out the ground cover on that sunny patch of grass. You can relax while I make the tea.”
Ayla got a good fire going while Jondalar got some water. Then she selected the dried herbs from her store of them, thinking about them carefully. She thought alfalfa tea would be good, since it was generally stimulating and refreshing, with some borage flowers and leaves, which made a healthful tonic, and gillyflowers for sweetness and a mild spicy taste. For Jondalar, she also chose some of the deep red male catkins from alder trees that she had collected very early in the spring. She remembered having mixed feelings when she picked them, thinking of her Promise to mate with Ranec, but all the while wishing it was with Jondalar instead. She felt a warm glow of happiness as she added the catkins to his cup.
When it was done, she carried the two cups of tea to the patch of grass where Jondalar was relaxing. Part of the ground cover he had spread out was in the shade already, but she was just as glad. The heat of the day had already warmed away the chill of the swim. She handed him a cup and sat down beside him. They rested together companionably, sipping the refreshing drinks, not saying much, watching the horses standing together head to back, flicking flies away from each other’s faces with their tails.
When he finished, Jondalar lay back, his hands behind his head. Ayla was glad to see him more relaxed and not pushing to be up and going right away. She put her cup down, then stretched out on her side beside him, putting her head in the hollow below his shoulder, and her arm across his chest. She closed her eyes, breathing in his man scent, and felt him put his arm around her and his hand moving across her hip, in an unconscious gentle caress.
She turned her head and kissed his warm skin, then blew her breath toward his neck. He felt a slight shiver and closed his eyes. She kissed him again, then raised up and pressed a series of nibbling little kisses up his shoulder and neck. Her kisses tickled him almost more than he could bear, but it gave him such excruciating tingles of excitement, he resisted moving and forced himself to lie still.
She kissed his neck and throat, and his jaw, feeling the stubble of whiskers on her lips; then she lifted herself up until she reached his mouth and moved across his lips from one side to the other with her soft nibbles. When she reached the other side, she pulled back and looked down at him. His eyes were closed, but he had an expression of anticipation. Finally he opened his eyes and saw her leaning over him and smiling with absolute delight, her hair still damp and hanging over one shoulder. He wanted to reach for her, crush her to him, but he smiled back.
She bent down and explored his mouth with her tongue, so lightly he could hardly feel it, but the breeze blowing across the wetness sent unbelievable shivers through him. Finally, when he thought he could stand it no longer, she kissed him, firmly. He felt her tongue seeking entrance and opened his mouth to receive her. Slowly she explored inside his lips, and under his tongue, and the ribbed roof of his mouth, testing, touching, tickling, then barely kissed his lips with her light little nibbles until he couldn’t stand it. He reached up and grabbed her head and brought her to him as he lifted his head to give her a firm, strong, satisfying kiss.
When he dropped his head back and let go, she was grinning mischievously. She had made him react, and they both knew it. As he watched her, being so pleased with herself, he was pleased, too. She was feeling innovative, playful, and he wondered what other delights she had in store for him. A surge of sensation pulsed through him at the thought. This could turn out to be interesting. He smiled and waited, watching her with his startling, deep blue eyes.
She leaned across and kissed his mouth again, and his neck and shoulders and chest, then his nipples. Then, in a sudden shift, she got up on her knees at his side and leaned over him the other way, reached down and grasped his enlarged organ. As she took as much as she could hold into her warm mouth, he felt her moist warmth enclose the sensitive end of his manhood, and go farther. She pulled back slowly, creating suction, and he felt a pulling that seemed to draw from some deep internal place and extend throughout every part of him. He closed his eyes and let himself feel the growing enjoyment, as she moved her hands and warm, pulling mouth up and down his long shaft.
She probed the end with her exploring tongue, then made rapid circles around it, and he began to want her with more urgency. She reached down to take the soft pouch below his member in her hand, and gently—he had told her to always be gentle there—felt the two mysterious, soft, round pebbles within. She wondered about them, what they were for, and felt they were important in some way. As her warm hands cupped his tender sac, he felt a different sensation, pleasurable but with a touch of concern for this sensitive place, which seemed to stimulate him in another way.
She pulled away then and looked at him. His intense pleasure in her and what she was doing showed on his face and in his eyes as he smiled at her, encouraging her. She was enjoying the process of Pleasuring him. It stimulated her in a different, but deep and exciting way, and she understood a little why he so loved to Pleasure her. She kissed him then, a long lingering kiss, then pulled back and put her leg over him, straddling him, facing his feet.
Sitting on his chest, she bent over and took his hard throbbing member in her two hands, one above the other. Though he was hard, extended, his skin felt soft, and when she held it in her mouth, he felt smooth and warm. She made her soft nibbling kisses down its length. When she reached the base, she reached farther down for his pouch, and took it gently in her mouth, feeling the firm roundnesses inside.
He shuddered as jolts of unexpected Pleasure eddied through him. It was almost too much. Not only the tumultuous sensations he was feeling, but the sight of her. She had lifted up to reach him, and with her legs straddling him, he could see her moist, deep pink petals and folds, and even her delicious opening. She let go of his pouch and moved back to take his exciting, throbbing manhood into her mouth to suckle again, when she suddenly felt him move her back a little farther. Then, with an unexpected shock of excitement, his tongue had found her folds, and the place of her Pleasures.
He explored her eagerly, completely, using his hands and his mouth, suckling, manipulating, feeling the joy of Pleasuring her, and at the same time, the excitement she caused within him as she rubbed him back and forth while she suckled him.
She was ready quickly and could not hold back, but he was trying to, straining not to let go just yet. He could easily have given in, but he wanted more, so when she stopped as her charging senses overcame her, arching back and crying out, he was glad. He felt her wetness, then gritted his teeth as he struggled for control. Without their earlier Pleasures, he was sure he would not have been able to, but he held back and reached a plateau just before he peaked.
“Ayla, move around the other way! I want all of you,” he said.
She nodded, understanding. And, wanting all of him, too, she backed off and then straddled him the other way. Lifting up, she eased his fullness into herself, and then lowered down. He moaned and called her name, over and over, feeling her deep warm well receive him. She felt pressures in sensitive different places as she moved up and down, guiding the direction of the hard fullness inside her.
At the plateau he had reached, his need was not quite as urgent. He could take a little time. She leaned forward, in yet another, slightly different position. He pulled her closer so he could reach her enticing breasts, held one to his mouth, and suckled hard; then he reached for the other, and finally, holding them together, both at the same time. As always, when he suckled her breasts, he felt the quivering excitement deep and low inside her.
She could feel herself building again as she moved up and down and back and forth on him. He was rising above the plateau, feeling his stronger urges coming over him again, and when she sat back, he grasped her hips and helped guide her movements, pushing up and pulling down. He felt a surge as she lifted up, and then, suddenly, he was there. She moved down on him again, and he cried out with the quaking tremor that rose from deep in his loins in a towering eruption, as she moaned and shuddered with the burst that roared within her.
Jondalar guided her up and down a few more times, then pulled her down on him and kissed her nipples. Ayla quivered once more, then collapsed on him. They lay still, breathing hard, trying to catch their breaths.
Ayla was just beginning to breathe easy when she felt something wet on her cheek. For a moment she thought it was Jondalar, but it was cold as well as wet, and there was a different, though not unfamiliar, smell. She opened her eyes and looked into the grinning teeth of a wolf. He nosed at her again, and then between them.
“Wolf! Get away from here!” she said, pushing his cold nose and wolfish breath away, then rolled over on her side beside the man. She reached up and grabbed Wolf’s ruff and pulled her fingers through his fur. “But I am glad to see you. Where have you been all day? I was getting a little worried.” She sat up and held his head in her two hands and put her forehead down on his, then turned toward the man. “I wonder how long he’s been back.”
“Well, I’m glad you taught him not to bother us. If he had interrupted us in the middle of that one, I’m not sure what I would have done to him,” Jondalar said.
He got up, then helped her up. Taking her in his arms, he looked down at her. “Ayla, that was … what can I say? I don’t begin to have the words to tell you.”
She saw such a look of love and adoration in his eyes, she had to blink back tears. “Jondalar, I wish I had words, but I don’t even know any Clan signs that would show you what I feel. I don’t know if there are any.”
“You just did show me, Ayla, in much more than words. You show me every day, in so many ways.” Suddenly he pulled her to him and held her close, feeling his throat constrict. “My woman, my Ayla. If I ever lost you …”
Ayla felt a quiver of fear at his words, but she only held him tighter.
———
“Jondalar, how do you always know what I really want?” Ayla asked. They were sitting in the golden glow of the fire, sipping tea, watching sparks from the pitchy pine wood pop and send showers of sparks up into the night air.
Jondalar was feeling more rested, contented, and at ease than he had for some time. They had fished in the afternoon—Ayla showed him how she tickled a fish out of the water by hand—then she found soapwort and they had bathed and washed their hair. He had just finished a wonderful meal of some of the fish, plus the slightly fishy-tasting eggs of marsh birds, a variety of vegetables, a doughy cattail biscuit cooked on hot rocks, and a few sweet berries.
He smiled at her. “I just pay attention to what you tell me,” he said.
“But, Jondalar, the first time, I thought I wanted to make it last, but you knew better than I what I really wanted. And then later, you knew I wanted to Pleasure you, and you let me, until I was ready for you again. And you knew when I was ready for you. I didn’t tell you.”
“Yes, you did. Just not with words. You taught me how to speak like the Clan does, with signs and motions, not words. I just try to understand your other signs.”
“But I didn’t teach you any signs like that. I don’t really know any. And you knew how to give me Pleasures before you ever learned how to speak in the language of the Clan.” She was frowning with seriousness in trying to understand, which brought a smile to his face.
“That’s true. But there is an unspoken language among people who speak, much more than they may realize.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed that,” Ayla said, thinking how much she was able to understand about people they met just by paying attention to the signs they made without knowing it.
“And sometimes you learn how to … do some things just because you want to, so you pay attention,” he said.
She had been looking into his eyes, seeing in them the love he felt for her and the delight he seemed to be taking in her questions, and she noticed the unfocused look that came over him when he spoke. He stared into space as though he were seeing something far away for a moment, and she knew he was thinking of someone else.
“Especially when the one person you want to learn from is willing to teach you,” she said. “Zolena taught you well.”
He flushed, stared at her with shocked surprise, then looked away, disturbed.
“I’ve learned much from you, too,” she added, knowing her remark had troubled him.
He seemed unable to look directly at her. When he finally did, his forehead was knotted in a frown. “Ayla, how did you know what I was thinking?” he asked. “I mean, I know you have some special Gifts. That’s why the Mamut took you into the Mammoth Hearth when you were adopted, but sometimes you seem to know my thoughts. Did you take those thoughts from my head?”
She was sensing his concern and something more distressing, almost a fear of her. She had encountered a similar fear from some of the Mamutoi at the Summer Meeting when they thought she had some uncanny abilities, but most of it was misunderstanding. Like thinking she had some special control over animals, when all she did was find them when they were babies and raise them as her own.
But ever since the Clan Gathering, something had changed. She hadn’t meant to drink any of the special root mixture that she made for the mog-urs, but she couldn’t help it, and she hadn’t meant to go into that cave and find the mog-urs, it just happened. When she saw them all sitting in a circle in that alcove deep in the cave and … fell into the black void that was inside her, she thought she was lost forever and would never find her way back. Then, somehow, Creb had reached inside her and had spoken to her. Since then, there had been times when she did seem to know things that she couldn’t explain. Just like when Mamut took her with him when he Searched, and she felt herself rise up and follow him across the steppes. But as she looked at Jondalar and saw the strange way he was looking at her, a fear welled up inside her, a fear that she could lose him.
She looked at him in the light of the fire, then looked down. There could be no untruths … no lying between them. Not that she could deliberately say something that wasn’t true, anyway, but not even the understood “refraining from speaking” that the Clan allowed for the sake of privacy, could come between them now. Even at the risk of losing him if she told him the truth, she had to tell him and try to find out what was troubling him. She looked directly at him then, trying to find words to begin.
“I did not know your thoughts, Jondalar, but I could guess them. Weren’t we just talking about the unspoken signs that are made by people who speak with words? You make them, too, you know, and I … I look for them, and many times I know what they mean. Maybe because I love you so much and want to know you, I pay attention to you all the time.” She looked away for a moment, and added, “That’s what women of the Clan are trained to do.”
She looked at him. There was some relief in his expression, and curiosity, as she continued. “It’s not just you. I wasn’t raised with … my kind of people, and I’m used to seeing meaning in the signs people make. It’s helped me to learn about people I meet, though it was very confusing at first because people who talk with words often say one thing, but their unspoken signs mean something else. When I finally learned that, I began to understand more than the words people said. That’s why Crozie wouldn’t wager with me anymore when we played the Knucklebone games. I always knew which of her hands she was holding the marked bone in by the way she held them.”
“I wondered about that. She was considered very good at the game.”
“She was.”
“But how did you know … how could you know I was thinking about Zolena? She’s Zelandoni now. That’s usually how I think of her, not the name she had when she was young.”
“I was watching you, and your eyes were saying that you loved me, and that you were happy with me, and I was feeling wonderful. But when you talked about wanting to learn certain things, for a moment, you didn’t see me. It was like you were looking far away. You told me about Zolena before, about the woman who taught you … your gift … the way you can make a woman feel. We had just been talking about that, too, so I knew that’s who you must have been thinking about.”
“Ayla, that’s remarkable!” he said with a big, relieved grin. “Remind me never to try to keep a secret from you. Maybe you can’t take thoughts from someone’s head, but you can certainly do the next thing to it.”
“There is something else you should know, though,” she said.
Jondalar’s frown returned. “What?”
“Sometimes I think I may have … some kind of Gift. Something happened to me when I was at the Clan Gathering, the time I went with Brun’s clan, when Durc was a baby. I did something I wasn’t supposed to. I didn’t mean to, but I drank the liquid I made for the mog-urs, and then happened to find them in the cave. I wasn’t looking for them. I don’t even know how I got in that cave. They were …” She got a chill and couldn’t finish. “Something happened to me. I got lost in the darkness. Not in the cave, the darkness inside. I thought I was going to die, but Creb helped me. He put his thoughts inside my head …”
“He what?”
“I don’t know how else to explain it. He put his thoughts inside my head, and ever since then … sometimes … it’s like he changed something in me. Sometimes I think I might have some kind of … Gift. Things happen that I don’t understand, and can’t explain. I think Mamut knew.”
Jondalar was quiet for a while. “So he was right to adopt you to the Mammoth Hearth, then, for more than just your healing skills.”
She nodded. “Maybe. I think so.”
“But you didn’t know my thoughts just now?”
“No. The Gift is not like that, exactly. It’s more like going with Mamut when he Searched. Or, like going to deep places, and far places.”
“Spirit worlds?”
“I don’t know.”
Jondalar looked into the air over her head, considering the implications. Then he shook his head, looked at her with a grim smile. “I think it must be the Mother’s joke on me,” he said. “The first woman I loved was called to Serve Her, and I didn’t think I’d ever love again. And now when I have found a woman to love, she turns out to be destined to Serve Her. Will I lose you, too?”
“Why should you lose me? I don’t know if I’m destined to Serve Her. I don’t want to Serve anyone. I just want to be with you, and share your hearth, and have your babies,” Ayla objected vociferously.
“Have my babies?” Jondalar said, surprised at her choice of words. “How can you have my babies? I won’t have babies, men don’t have children. The Great Mother gives children to women. She may use a man’s spirit to create them, but they’re not his. Except to provide for, when his mate has them. Then they are the children of his hearth.”
Ayla had talked about it before, about men starting the new life growing inside a woman, but he hadn’t fully realized, then, that she truly was a daughter of the Mammoth Hearth. That she could visit spirit worlds, and might be destined to Serve Doni. Maybe she did know something.
“You can call my babies children of your hearth, Jondalar. I want my babies to be the children of your hearth. I just want to be with you, always.”
“I want that, too, Ayla. I wanted you, and your children, even before I met you. I just didn’t know I would find you. I only hope the Mother doesn’t start any growing inside you until we get back.”
“I know, Jondalar,” Ayla said. “I would rather wait, too.”
Ayla took their cups and rinsed them out, then finished her preparations for an early start, while Jondalar packed everything except their sleeping furs. They cuddled together, pleasantly tired. The Zelandonii man watched the woman beside him breathing quietly, but sleep eluded him.
My children, he was thinking. Ayla said her babies would be my children. Were we making life begin when we shared Pleasures today? If any new life started from that, then it would have to be very special, because those Pleasures were … better than any … ever …
Why were they better? It isn’t as though I never did any of those things before, but with Ayla, it’s different … I never get tired of her … she makes me want her more and more … just thinking about her makes me want her again … and she thinks I know how to Pleasure her …
But what if she gets pregnant? She hasn’t yet … maybe she can’t. Some women can’t have children. But she did have a son. Could it be me?
I lived with Serenio for a long time. She didn’t get pregnant all the time I was there, and she had a child before. I might have stayed with the Sharamudoi if she’d had children … I think. Just before I left, she said she thought she might be pregnant. Why didn’t I stay? She said she didn’t want to be mated to me, even though she loved me, because I didn’t love her the same way. She said I loved my brother more than any woman. But I did care for her, maybe not the way I love Ayla, but if I had really wanted to, I think she would have mated me. And I knew it then. Did I use it as an excuse to leave? Why did I leave? Because Thonolan left and I was worried about him? Is that the only reason?
If Serenio was pregnant when I left, if she had another child, would it have been started from the essence of my manhood? Would it be … my child? That’s what Ayla would say. No, that’s not possible. Men don’t have children, unless the Great Mother uses a man’s spirit to make one. Of my spirit, then?
When we get there, at least I’ll know if she had a baby. How would Ayla feel about it, if Serenio has a child that might somehow be a part of me? I wonder what Serenio will think when she sees Ayla? And what will Ayla think of her?