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“Jondalar?”

The tall man bowed his head and swallowed. “That’s what happened. I saw him with Ayla, and I dragged him off her and started hitting him. I know it was wrong. I have no excuse,” Jondalar said, knowing in his heart even as he said it that he would do it again.

“Do you know why you hit him, Jondalar?” the First asked.

“I was jealous,” he mumbled.

“You were jealous, is that what you said?”

“Yes, Zelandoni.”

“If you had to express your jealousy, Jondalar, couldn’t you have just pulled them apart? Did you have to hit him?”

“I couldn’t stop myself. And once I started …” Jondalar shook his head.

“Once he started, no one could stop him, he even hit me!” the leader of the Fifth said. “He was beside himself, in some kind of a frenzy. I don’t know what we would have done if that big Mamutoi hadn’t got hold of him.”

/> “That’s why he’s so ready to take in Laramar,” Folara whispered to Proleva, but easily heard by those around her. “He’s mad that he couldn’t stop Jondé, and got hit when he tried.”

“He also likes Laramar’s barma, but he may discover that Laramar is no shiny piece of amber,” Proleva said. “He is not exactly the first one I would ask to join my Cave.” She turned her attention back to the center.

“This is the reason,” Zelandoni was saying, “that we try to teach the senselessness of jealousy. It can get out of hand. Do you understand that, Jondalar?”

“Yes, I do. It was stupid of me, and I’m very sorry. I’ll do whatever you say to make up for it. I want to make amends.”

“He can’t make up for it,” Laramar said. “He can’t fix my face, just like he couldn’t put the teeth back in Madroman’s mouth.”

The First gave Laramar a look of annoyance. That was uncalled for, she thought. It wasn’t necessary to bring that up. He doesn’t have the least idea how much Jondalar was provoked in that situation. But she kept her thoughts to herself.

“But reparations were paid,” Marthona said loudly.

“And I expect them to be paid again!” Laramar retorted.

“What do you expect?” the First asked. “What redress are you asking? What do you want, Laramar?”

“What I want is to punch his pretty face in,” Laramar said.

There was a gasp from the audience.

“That is no doubt true, but it is not a remedy allowed by the Mother. Do you have any other thoughts about how you would like him to make amends?” the Donier asked.

Laramar’s mate stood up. “He keeps making bigger dwellings for himself. Why don’t you ask him to make a big new dwelling for your family, Laramar?” she called out.

“That might be a possibility, Tremeda,” the First said, “but where would you want it made, at the Ninth Cave, or the Fifth Cave, Laramar?”

“That’s no compensation for me,” Laramar said. “What do I care what kind of dwelling she lives in? She’ll just turn it into a filthy mess anyway.”

“You don’t care about where your children live, Laramar?” the First asked.

“My children? They’re not mine, not if what you say is true. If coupling is the way they start, I didn’t start any of them … except maybe the first. I haven’t coupled, much less had any ‘Pleasures’ with her in years. Believe me, she’s no Pleasure. I don’t know where those children came from, maybe Mother Festivals—give a man enough to drink and even she might look good—but whoever started them, it wasn’t me. The only thing that woman is good for is drinking my barma,” Laramar sneered.

“That is certainly true. Lanoga has taken care of her siblings more than her mother and now Lanidar is helping. But they are too young to take on so much responsibility,” Proleva said from the audience.

“Laramar, they are still the children of your hearth. It is your responsibility to provide for them,” the One Who Was First said. “You cannot just decide you don’t want them.”

“Why not? I don’t want them. They never meant anything to me. She doesn’t even care about them. Why should I?”

The leader of the Fifth Cave was looking just as horrified as everyone else at Laramar’s callous denunciation of the children of his hearth, and in the audience, Proleva whispered, “I told you he was no shiny piece of amber.”


Tags: Jean M. Auel Earth's Children Fantasy