The Shelters of Stone by Jean M. Auel
Jondalar had eyes for no one but Ayla. Her eyes were bright, her mouth partly open to help fill her lungs, heaving with excitement. It was the look she wore when she was awed by something beautiful, or excited by the hunt, and Jondalar felt the blood draw to his loins. She is a golden woman, Jondalar thought. Golden like the sun. He wanted her, and he could hardly believe that this sensuously beautiful woman was going to be his mate. His mate … he liked the sound of that. She would share the home he planned to surprise her with. Would the ceremony ever begin? Would it ever end? He didn’t want to wait, he wanted to run over to her, pick her up, and carry her off.
The zelandonia had gathered around, and the First began a haunting chant. Then another Zelandoni joined in with a steady tone, and then a third. Each donier chose a sound, a tone with a pitch and timbre that sometimes varied in a repetitive melody, but that each was comfortable with sustaining. As the Zelandoni who would join the first couple began to speak, a whole chorus was maintaining a soft, continuous chant in the background, each one making a distinct tone. The combination might or might not be harmonic, it didn’t matter. Before the first one got out of breath, another voice would join in, and then another, and another at random intervals. The result was a droning, interweaving fugue of tones that could go on indefinitely, if there were enough people to provide sufficient rest for those people who had to stop for a while.
Though it was only in the background, the pleasant drone filled his mind as Jondalar stared, entranced, at the woman he loved. He hardly heard the words spoken by the zelandonia for the first few couples. Then he felt a slight poke from the man behind him, and jumped. They were saying his name. He walked toward the massive figure of Zelandoni, watching Ayla coming to meet him. They stood facing each other on opposite sides of the donier.
Zelandoni looked approvingly at both of them. Jondalar was the tallest of the men, and she had always thought he was by far the most attractive man she had ever seen. Though he was hardly more than a boy those many years ago, it was one reason she had chosen to teach him Doni’s Gift of Pleasure when it was his time to learn. And he had learned well, almost too well. He had almost convinced her not to follow her calling.
She was glad now that circumstances had intervened, but looking at him in that spectacular white tunic, she knew again why he had almost persuaded her. She wondered where he had gotten the white tunic, no doubt on his Journey. The color, of course, immediately caught the eye, but it was also unusual in design, and its very lack of decoration made it exotic. He matched the woman he had chosen. She turned to look at Ayla.
And she matched him. No, she surpassed him, and that was not easy, Zelandoni thought. The donier would have been disappointed had he chosen someone not up to her opinion of him, but Zelandoni had to admit he had not only found a woman who was his equal, he had gone one better. She knew they were the center of attention, for many reasons. Everyone knew them, or knew who they were, they had been the talk of the Summer Meeting, and they were by far the handsomest couple there.
It was right, fitting, that she, First Among Those Who Served The Mother, should conduct the ceremony and be the one to tie the knot for the most outstanding pair. Zelandoni herself was a presence to be reckoned with. The tattooed design on her forehead had been reinforced with stronger colors, her hair was carefully, if somewhat oudandishly, styled, which appeared to make the tall woman even taller, and the heavily decorated long tunic was a work of art that almost needed a person of her size to be displayed adequately. All eyes were drawn to the trio, and Zelandoni paused to heighten the dramatic impact.
Marthona had stepped forward to stand beside her son, with her present mate, Willamar, on her right and a pace behind. On her left was Dalanar, and just behind him was Jerika. They would have to wait until the very end before her daughter, Joplaya, and Echozar would be mated. Arrayed beside Willamar were Folara and Joharran, Jondalar’s sister and brother. Near Joharran was Proleva and her son, Jaradal. Many other friends and relatives were in the audience nearby in a place set aside for the use of the couple during their ceremony. Zelandoni looked at them all, then up at the large crowd on the slope before she began.
“All Caves of the Zelandonii,” the donier said in a solemn resonant voice. “You are called upon to share in witnessing the joining of a woman and a man. Doni, Great Earth Mother, First Creator, the Mother of All, She Who gave birth to Bali, who lights the sky, and She Whose mate and friend, Lumi, shines down upon us this night in witness with Her. She is honored by the sacred joining of Her children.”
Ayla glanced up at the moon. It was gibbous, slightly more than half-full, and she suddenly realized it was dark out. The sun had set some time before, but the huge bonfire and many torches made it seem almost bright as day.
“The two standing here have pleased the Great Earth Mother by choosing to join together. Jondalar of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii. Son of Marthona, former Leader of the Ninth Cave, now mated to Willamar, Trading Master of the Zelandonii, born to the Hearth of Dalanar, Founder and Leader of the Lanzadonii, Brother of Joharran, Leader of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii…”
Ayla’s mind couldn’t help but wander as Zelandoni continued with the long, full recitation of Jondalar’s names and ties, most of whom she didn’t know. This was one of the few times when all his connections would be stated. Her attention was caught again when the donier’s tone changed after the long litany.
“ … do you choose Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, Blessed of Doni, and Honored by Her Blessing…” There was an undercurrent of murmuring. It was a lucky mating. She was already pregnant. “ … formerly Ayla of the Mamutoi, Member of the Lion Camp, Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth, Chosen by the Spirit of the Cave Lion, Protected by the Cave Bear, Friend of the horses named Whinney and Racer, and the four-legged hunter, Wolf.”
Ayla wondered where Wolf was. He’d been gone all afternoon and evening, and she was disappointed. She knew it wouldn’t mean much to him, but she had hoped he would be there for her mating.
“…Accepted by Joharran, Brother of Jondalar and Leader of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, and by Marthona, Mother of Jondalar and former Leader of the Ninth Cave, Approved by Dalanar, Founder and Leader of the Lanzadonii, man of the hearth at Jondalar’s birth…”
Zelandonii continued naming most of Jondalar’s kin. Ayla didn’t realize she was gaining so many new ties with this mating, but Zelandoni wished there were more. She had had to think long and hard to come up with enough legitimate ties to make the ritual appropriate. Ayla brought so few with her.
“I choose her,” Jondalar was responding, facing Ayla.
“Will you respect her, care for her when she is sick, provide for her when she is with child, and help provide for all of the children born to your hearth while you are living together?” Zelandoni intoned.
“I will respect her, care for her, provide for her and her children,” Jondalar said.
“And Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, formerly Ayla of the Mamutoi, Member of the Lion Camp, Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth, Chosen by the Spirit of the Cave Lion, Protected by the Cave Bear, Accepted by the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, do you choose Jondalar of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, Son of Marthona, former Leader of the Ninth Cave, now mated to Willamar, Trading Master of the Zelandonii, born to the Hearth of Dalanar, Founder and Leader of the Lanzadonii.” Zelandonii had decided to name only the essential ties, rather than making a second recitation of all of them. Ayla was relieved—along with most of the people there.
“I choose him,” Ayla said, looking at Jondalar. Her words resounded in her head. I choose him. I choose him. I chose him a long time ago, now I can finally choose him.
“Will you respect him, care for him when he is sick, teach your children to respect him as befits your mate and their provider, including the one Doni has already Blessed you with?” Zelandoni continued.
“I will respect him, care for him, and teach my children to respect him,” Ayla s
Zelandoni made a signal. “Who has the authority to approve the joining of this man to this woman?”
Marthona took a few steps forward. “I, Marthona, former Leader of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, have the authority. I agree to the mating of my son, Jondalar, with Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii,” she said.
Then Willamar stepped forward. “I, Willamar, Master Trader of the Zelandonii, mated to Marthona, former Leader of the Ninth Cave, also agree to this mating.” Willamar’s agreement wasn’t essential, but his inclusion in the ceremony added approval to the mating of his mate’s son to a foreign woman and made it easier to include Marthona’s former mate, who was taking a step forward.
“I, Dalanar, Founder and Leader of the Lanzadonii, man of the hearth at Jondalar’s birth, also agree to this mating of Jondalar, the son of my former mate, with Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, formerly Ayla of the Mamutoi.”
Dalanar gave Ayla a look of appreciation that was so much like Jondalar’s, she almost smiled as she felt her body respond the same way. It was not the first time. Dalanar and Jondalar not only looked alike, except for the age difference, to Ayla they felt alike. Then she couldn’t resist and smiled at the older man, one of her radiant smiles that seemed to beam like a light from within, and for just a moment, he almost wished he could trade places with the son of his mate. Then he looked at Jondalar and saw a smirking grin. That boy knew just what he was feeling and couldn’t wait to tease him about it! He almost laughed out loud.
“I approve without question!” Dalanar added.
“Who has the authority to approve the joining of this woman with this man?” Zelandoni asked.
“I, Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, formerly Ayla of the Mamutoi, Member of the Lion Camp and Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth, have the authority to speak on my own behalf. The authority was given to me by the Mamut of the Mammoth Hearth, eldest and most respected of all the marmiti, by Talut, headman of the Lion Camp, and by his sister, Tulie, headwoman of the Lion Camp. In their name, I agree to this mating with Jondalar of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii,” Ayla said. That had been the part she was most nervous about, to memorize and repeat the words she was supposed to say.
“Mamut of the Mammoth Hearth, the One Who Serves The Mother for the Mamutoi,” Zelandoni said, “gave the Daughter of his Hearth the freedom to decide for herself. As One Who Serves The Mother for the Zelandonii, I can also speak for Mamut. Ayla has chosen to mate with Jondalar, therefore her decision is the same as Mamut’s agreement.” Then Zelandoni said, throwing her voice so all could hear, “Who speaks for this couple?”
“I, Joharran, Leader of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, speak for this couple, and welcome Jondalar and Ayla to the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii,” Jondalar’s older brother said. Then he turned to face the people gathered behind him in the audience.
“We of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii welcome them,” they said in unison.
Then Zelandoni held out both her arms, as though trying to embrace everyone there. “All the Caves of the Zelandonii,” she said, her tone commanding attention. “Jondalar and Ayla have chosen each other. It has been agreed, and they have been accepted by the Ninth Cave. What do you say to this joining?”
There was a roar of approval. If anyone had disagreed, the objection would have been drowned out. The donier waited for the noise to subside, then she said, “Doni, the Great Earth Mother, approves this joining of Her children. By Blessing Ayla, She has smiled on this union.” At her signal, Ayla and Jondalar held hands and extended them toward the Zelandoni Who Was First. She took a simple leather thong, wrapped it around their joined hands, and tied it with a knot. When they returned from their trial period, they would return the thong whole, not cut, and in exchange they would be given matched necklaces, a gift from the zelandonia. That would be the signal that their joining was sanctioned and other gifts could now be given.
“The knot has been tied. You are mated. May Doni always smile on you.” The young couple circled around to face outward toward the people, and Zelandoni announced, “They are now Jondalar and Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii.”
They all stepped away together, including the One Who Was First To Serve The Great Earth Mother, to make room for the next couple. While everyone else moved back farther into the audience to make room for the family of the next couple, Ayla and Jondalar walked to where the other couples who had thongs tied around their wrists were waiting. They were not quite through.
Though most people watching enjoyed the spectacle of seeing this pair who had been so favored make their commitments and have their wrists bound, there were a few for whom the mating brought out other feelings entirely. One was a beautiful woman with nearly white hair, very fair skin, and gray eyes that were so dark, they were nearly black. Most men looked at Marona approvingly, until they saw her disagreeable frown, but she ignored them.
Marona was not smiling with approval at the lovely couple. She was glaring with pure hatred at the foreign woman and the man who had once Promised himself to her. She was supposed to have been the center of attention that year, but instead he went on a Journey and left her stranded with no man to mate. To make it worse, his close cousin had come, that strange-looking black-haired woman that everyone said was so beautiful—who was going to mate the ugliest man she had ever seen—and she got all the attention. Yes, she had found a reasonably acceptable man to mate before the summer was over, but he wasn’t Jondalar, the man everyone wanted and she was supposed to get. They were both happy to sever the knot a few years later. It had been the worst Summer Meeting Marona had ever endured, until now.
This year, Jondalar had finally returned, but with a foreign woman, who insisted on having animals around her and didn’t even care if she wore boys’ underwear. Now they were mated, and she was pregnant, already Blessed. It wasn’t fair. And where did she get that outfit she was wearing, open, and showing off her breasts? Marona wouldn’t have hesitated to wear an outfit like that, if she had thought of it first, but she never would now, even if all the other women did, and she knew they would. Someday, Marona said to herself. Someday I’ll find a way to show them. Someday he’ll be sorry, they’ll both be sorry. Someday.
There were others who were not particularly pleased with the pairing. Laramar just didn’t like either one of them. Jondalar always looked at him with disdain, even when he was drinking his barma, and that woman Ayla, with that wolf, who made such an issue about Tremeda’s youngest and had Lanoga thinking she was so wonderful. Lanoga wasn’t even there to fix him a meal half the time anymore. Instead she was sitting around with those other women just like that baby was hers, and she wasn’t even a woman yet, but she was getting there. She might even turn out to be a decent-looking woman someday, a lot better looking than that slovenly old woman who was her mother. I just wish that Ayla would stay away from my lodge, Laramar thought. Then he smirked, unless she wants some honoring. I wonder what she’d be like full of barma at a Mother Festival? Who knows? Someday.
There was another person who was watching that wished the couple less than happiness. My name is Madroman now, the acolyte thought, and I wish they’d remember, especially Jondalar. Look at him, so smug, all dressed up in that white tunic, making all those newly mated women smile. He was surprised when he found out I am part of the zelandonia now. He never expected it, he didn’t think I could do it, but I’m a lot smarter than he thinks. And I will become Zelandoni, in spite of that fat woman who’s been playing up to Jondalar’s foreign woman like she’s already Zelandoni.
She is beautiful, though. I could have found someone like that if he hadn’t knocked my teeth out. He had no reason to hit me like that. All I did was tell the truth. He wanted to mate Zolena, and she would have agreed if I hadn’t let them know. I should have let them mate, then that smiling face would be mated to a fat old woman instead of that foreigner he brought back. She plays at being a Zelandoni, but she isn’t. She’s not even an a
A fourth pair of eyes had watched the mating of the favored pair with less than pleasant feelings of goodwill. Brukeval couldn’t stop looking at the golden woman with her hair tumbling around her shoulders and her large, beautiful breasts exposed. She was pregnant, they were a mother’s breasts, and he wanted more than anything to reach out and touch them, fondle them, suckle them. They were so perfect, he began to feel that she was flaunting those perfect breasts, taunting him on purpose with their fullness, their hard pink nipples begging to be sucked.
Jondalar is going to touch those breasts, hold them, take those nipples in his mouth and suck them. Always Jondalar, always the favored one, always the lucky one. He even had the best mother. Marona’s mother never cared about me, but Marthona was always there when I couldn’t stand it anymore. She would always talk to me, explain things to me, let me stay with them for a while. She was always kind. Jondalar wasn’t so bad, but that was because he felt sorry for me, because I didn’t have his mother. Now he is mating a mother, a woman golden as Bali, the great golden son of the Mother, with beautiful breasts, who is going to be a mother.
She had been so happy to see him coming for her with his torch to lead her out of that cave, and she had said if it weren’t for Jondalar, she would consider him, but she didn’t mean it. When Jondalar and that flathead came, she made it known that she thought he was a flathead just like that one from the Lanzadonii. I don’t know how Dalanar could even allow that flathead to look at the daughter of his mate, much less to mate her. That’s wrong. He is an abomination, half animal, half human. It shouldn’t be allowed. Joplaya seemed like a decent young woman, she was quiet, and she’d always been nice to him, but how could she consider mating that flat-head? It’s just not right. Someone should stop it, Brukeval thought.