“Tremeda has six children, the youngest little more than a one-year. The oldest sister, Lanoga, takes care of them, and she’s barely an eleven-year, herself,” Ayla said, trying to contain herself, but her irritation was obvious. “I think her brother, Bologan, tries to help, but he’s only a thirteen-year. They were trying to put up a tent for themselves last night when we walked past on our way here. But it was wet and falling apart, and they didn’t have any materials for a summer lodge. So we stayed and built one for them.”
“You built a summer lodge by yourselves? With nothing but local materials?” Tishona said, looking at them with awe.
“It was a small one,” Jondalar said, with a smile. “Just enough for their family. No one is sharing with them.”
“I’m not surprised,” Levela said, “but it is a shame. Those youngsters could use someone to help.”
“The Cave helps,” Tishona said, in defense of the Ninth Cave, of which she was now a member. “The other mothers even take turns nursing the baby.”
“I was wondering about that when you said Tremeda didn’t return and the youngest was little more than a one-year,” Levela said.
“Tremeda ran dry a year ago,” Ayla said.
It happens when you don’t nurse enough, she thought, but didn’t say it aloud. There were reasons, sometimes good ones, for a mother’s milk to dry up. She recalled when she had grieved so much after the death of her Clan mother, Iza, that she was oblivious to the needs of her own son. The other nursing mothers of Brun’s clan had been willing to feed Durc, but in her heart she would never quite get over it.
The other women of the Clan understood more than she that it was as much Creb’s fault as anyone’s. When Durc cried to be fed, instead of putting him in his grieving mother’s arms and letting him rouse her, he brought the baby to one of the other women to be fed. They knew he meant well, he hadn’t wanted to disturb Ayla in her sorrow, and they couldn’t refuse him. But the lack of nursing had made her sick with milk fever, and by the time she recovered, she was dry. Ayla held the baby girl in her arms a little closer.
“There you are, Ayla!” Proleva said as she approached. She had four other women with her.
Ayla recognized Beladora and Jayvena, the mates of the leaders of the Second and Seventh Caves, and nodded at them. They acknowledged her as well. She wondered if the other two women were also the mates of leaders. She thought she recognized one of them. The other was drawing back from Wolf.
“Zelandoni has been looking for you,” Proleva continued. “And several young men have been asking about you, Jondalar. I told them if I saw you, I’d tell you to meet them at Manvelar’s lodge in the camp of the Third Cave.”
“Proleva, where is the zelandonia lodge?” Ayla asked.
“Not far from the Third Cave’s camp, right next to the camp of the Twenty-sixth Cave,” Proleva said, pointing in the general direction.
“I didn’t know the Twenty-sixth had set up a camp,” Jondalar said.
“Stevadal likes to be in the middle of things,” Proleva said. “His whole Cave isn’t staying at the Meeting Camp, but there are a couple of lodges for those who happen to stay late and want a place to sleep. I’m sure there will be a lot of coming and going, at least until after the First Matrimonial.”
“When will that be?” Jondalar asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t think they’ve decided yet. Maybe Ayla can ask Zelandoni,” Proleva said, as she and the women with her continued on to wherever they were heading when she stopped to pass on the messages.
Ayla and Jondalar said their farewells and headed toward the camps to which they had been directed. When they neared the camp of the Third Cave, Ayla recognized the large zelandonia lodge with its ancillary lodges close by. Right now, she thought, recalling the Summer Meeting of the year before, the young women who were being prepared for their Rites of First Pleasures were cloistered in one of the special dwellings, while appropriate men were being selected for them. In the other lodge were the women who had decided to wear the red fringe, to be donii-women this season. They had chosen to make themselves available to the young men who were wearing puberty belts, to teach them how to understand a woman’s needs.
Pleasures were a Gift from the Mother, and the zelandonia considered it a sacred duty to make sure the first experience of young adults was appropriate and educational. It was felt that both young women and young men needed to learn how to appreciate the Mother’s Great Gift properly, and that older, more experienced people needed to demonstrate and explain, to share the Gift with them the first time under the discreet but watchful eyes of the zelandonia. It was a Rite of Passage too important to be left to chance encounters.
Both ancillary lodges were very well guarded since most men found them almost irresistible. Some men couldn’t even look in the direction of either lodge without feeling aroused. Men, especially young men who had already had their manhood rites but were not yet mated, tried to peek in, and sometimes sneak into the lodge of the young women, and some older men liked to hover around it in hopes of catching a glimpse. Nearly every available man wanted to be selected for a young woman’s First Rites, though there was also a certain anxiety involved if they were. They knew they would be observed and they feared they might not perform well, but there was also a special sense of satisfaction when they did. Most men also had exciting memories of their own donii-women when they first became men.
But there were restrictions imposed on those who had the important task of sharing and teaching the Mother’s Gift of Pleasure. Neither the selected men nor the donii-women were to have any close ties with the younger ones for a year after the ceremony. They were considered too impressionable, too vulnerable, and not without reason. It wasn’t unusual for a young woman who had had a pleasurable first experience with an older man to want to share it again, even though it was forbidden. After First Rites, she could have any other man she wanted—who also wanted her—but that made her first partner all the more appealing. Jondalar had been chosen often before he went on his Journey, and he had learned to gently evade sometimes persistent young women with whom he’d shared a loving and tender ceremonial experience, who tried to get him alone. But it was, in a sense, easier for the men. Theirs was a single event; one night of special Pleasure.
The donii-women were expected to be available for the entire summer, or more, especially if they were acolytes. Young men had frequent urges, and it took a while for them to learn that the needs of women were different, their satisfactions more varied. But the donii-women were required to make sure that the young men didn’t form a lasting att
achment, which was sometimes difficult.
Jondalar’s donii-woman was The First, when she was known as Zolena, and she had taught him well. Later, after he returned to the Ninth Cave after spending several years with Dalanar, he was often chosen. But at the time of his puberty, he became so enamored of Zolena, he would choose none of the other donii-women. More, he wanted her to be his mate, even though there was an age difference. The difficulty was that she also developed strong feelings for the tall, handsome, extremely charismatic young man with the pale blond hair and unusually vivid blue eyes, and that had created problems for both of them.
When they reached Manvelar’s lodge, they knocked on a wood panel near the entrance, and speaking in a louder voice, said who they were. He called to them to come in.
“Wolf is with us,” Ayla said.
“Bring him in,” Morizan said as he pushed open the door drape.
Ayla hadn’t seen much of Manvelar’s son since the lion hunt, and she smiled cordially at him. After everyone had been greeted, Ayla said, “I need to go to the zelandonia lodge. Could you keep Wolf, Jondalar? Sometimes he creates such a distraction, he disrupts things. I like to ask Zelandoni first, before I bring him there.”
“If no one minds,” Jondalar said, giving Morizan and Manvelar and the others in the lodge a questioning look.