The Valley Of Horses

2

"Well then, why did you decide to go with me, Jondalar?" the brown-haired young man said, unstaking a tent made of several hides laced together. "You told Marona you were only going to visit Dalanar and show me the way. Just to make a short Journey before you settled down. You were supposed to go to the Summer Meeting with the Lanzadonii and be there in time for the Matrimonial. She is going to be furious, and that's one woman I wouldn't want angry at me. You sure you're not just running away from her?" Thonolan's tone was light, but the seriousness in his eyes gave him away.

"Little Brother, what makes you think you're the only one in this family with an urge to travel? You didn't think I was going to let you go off by yourself, did you? Then come home and brag about your long Journey? Someone has to go along to keep your stories straight, and keep you out of trouble," the tall blond man replied, then stooped to enter the tent.

Inside it was high enough to sit or kneel comfortably, but not to stand, and large enough for both their sleeping rolls and their gear. The tent was supported by three poles in a row down the center, and near the middle, taller pole was a hole with a flap that could be laced closed to keep out rain, or opened to let smoke escape if they wanted a fire in the tent. Jondalar pulled up the three poles and crawled back out of the opening with them.

"Keep me out of trouble!" Thonolan said. "I'm going to have to grow eyes in the back of my head to watch your rear! Wait until Marona finds out you're not with Dalanar and the Lanzadonii when they get to the Meeting. She might decide to turn herself into a donii and come flying over that glacier we just crossed to get you, Jondalar." They started folding up the tent between them. "That one has had her eye on you for a long time, and just when she thought she had you, you decide it's time to make a Journey. I think you just don't want to slip your hand in that thong and let Zelandoni tie the knot. I think my big brother is mating-shy." They put the tent beside the backframes. "Most men your age already have a little one, or two, at their hearths," Thonolan added, ducking a mock punch from his older brother; the laughter now had reached his gray eyes.

"Most men my age! I'm only three years older than you," Jondalar said, feigning anger. Then he laughed, a big hearty laugh, its uninhibited exuberance all the more surprising because it was unexpected.

The two brothers were as different as night and day, but it was the shorter dark-haired one who had the lighter heart. Thonolan's friendly nature, infectious grin, and easy laughter made him quickly welcome anywhere. Jondalar was more serious, his brow often knotted in concentration or worry, and though he smiled easily, especially at his brother, he seldom laughed out loud. When he did, the sheer abandon of it came as a surprise.

"And how do you know Marona won't already have a little one to bring to my hearth by the time we get back," Jondalar said, as they began rolling up the leather ground cloth, which could be used as a smaller shelter with one of the poles.

"And how do you know she won't decide my elusive brother isn't the only man worthy of her well-known charms? Marona really knows how to please a man – when she wants to. But that temper of hers… You're the only man who has ever been able to handle her, Jondalar, though Doni knows, there are plenty who would take her, temper and all." They were facing each other with the ground cloth between them. "Why haven't you mated her? Everyone's been expecting it for years."

Thonolan's question was serious. Jondalar's vivid blue eyes grew troubled and his brow wrinkled. "Maybe just because everyone expects it," he said. "I don't know, Thonolan, to be honest, I expect to mate her, too. Who else would I mate?"

"Who? Oh, just anyone you wanted, Jondalar. There isn't an unmated woman in ail the Caves – end a few who are – who wouldn't jump at the chance to tie the knot with Jondalar of the Zelandonii, brother of Joharran, leader of the Ninth Cave, not to mention brother of Thonolan, dashing and courageous adventurer."

"You forgot son of Marthona, former leader of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, and brother of Folara, beautiful daughter of Marthona, or she will be when she grows up." Jondalar smiled. "If you're going to name my ties, don't forget the blessed of Doni."

"Who can forget them?" Thonolan asked, turning to the sleeping rolls, each made of two furs cut to fit each man and laced together around the sides and bottom, with a drawstring around the opening. "What are we talking about? I even think Joplaya would mate you, Jondalar."

They both started packing the rigid boxlike backframes that tapered outward toward the top. They were made of stiff rawhide attached to wooden slats and held on with leather shoulder straps made adjustable by a row of carved ivory buttons. The buttons were secured by threading a thong through a single center hole and knotting it in front to a second thong that passed back through the same hole and on to the next.

"You know we can't mate. Joplaya's my cousin. And you shouldn't take her seriously; she's a terrible tease. We became good friends when I went to live with Dalanar to learn my craft. He taught us both at the same time. She's one of the best flint knappers I know. But don't ever tell her I said so. She'd never let me forget it. We were always trying to outdo each other."

Jondalar hoisted a heavy pouch that contained his toolmaking implements and a few spare chunks of flint, thinking about Dalanar and the Cave he had founded. The Lanzadonii were growing. More people had joined them since he left, and families were expanding. There will be a Second Cave of the Lanzadonii soon, he thought. He put the pouch inside his backframe, then cooking utensils, food and other equipment. His sleeping roll and tent went on top, and two of the tent poles into a holder on the left side of his pack. Thonolan carried the ground cover and the third pole. In a special holder on the right sides of their backframes, they both carried several spears.

Thonolan was filling a waterbag with snow. It was made of an animal's stomach and covered with fur. When it was very cold, as it had been on the plateau glacier over the highland they had just crossed, they carried the waterbags inside their parkas next to the skin, so body heat could melt the snow. There was no fuel for fire on a glacier. They were over it now, but not yet at a low enough elevation to find free-flowing water.

"I'll tell you, Jondalar," Thonolan said, looking up. "I am glad Joplaya is not my cousin. I think I'd give up my Journey to mate that woman. You never told me she was so beautiful. I've never seen anyone like her, a man can't keep his eyes away from her. Makes me grateful I was born to Marthona after she mated Willomar, not while she was still Dalanar's mate. At least it gives me a chance."

"I guess she is beautiful at that. I haven't seen her for three years. I expected her to be mated by now. I'm glad Dalanar has decided to take the Lanzadonii to the Zelandonii Meeting this summer. With only one Cave, there are not many to choose from. It will give Joplaya a chance to meet some other men."

"Yes, and give Marona a little competition. I almost hate to miss it when those two meet. Marona is used to being the beauty of the bunch. She is going to hate Joplaya. And with you not showing up, I have a feeling Marona is not going to enjoy this year's Summer Meeting."

"You're right, Thonolan. She's going to be hurt, and angry, and I don't blame her. She has a temper, but she's a good woman. All she needs is a man good enough for her. And she does know how to please a man. When I'm with her, I'm all ready to tie the knot, but when she's not around… I don't know, Thonolan." Jondalar frowned as he pulled a belt around his parka after putting his waterbag inside.

"Tell me something," Thonolan asked, serious again. "How would you feel if she decided to mate someone else while we're gone? It's likely, you know."

Jondalar tied the belt on while he was thinking. "I'd be hurt, or my pride would – I'm not sure which. But I wouldn't blame her. I think she deserves someone better than me, someone who wouldn't leave her to go off on a Journey at the last moment. And if she's happy, I'd be happy for her."

"That's what I thought," the younger brother said. Then he broke into a grin. "Well, Big Brother, if we're going to keep ahead of that donii that's coming after you, we'd better get moving." Thonolan finished loading his backframe, then lifted his fur parka and slipped an arm out of the sleeve to hang the waterbag over his shoulder underneath it.

The parkas were cut from a simple pattern. Front and back were more or less rectangular pieces laced together at the sides and shoulders, with two smaller rectangles folded and sewn into tubes and attached as sleeves. Hoods, also attached, had a fringe of wolverine fur around the face since ice from moisture in the breath would not cling to it. The parkas were richly decorated with beadwork of bone, ivory, shell, animal teeth, and black-tipped white ermine tells. They slipped on over the head and hung loosely like tunics to about midway down the thigh, and were cinched around the waist with a belt.

Under the parkas were soft buckskin shirts made from a similar pattern, and trousers of fur, flapped over in front and held on with a drawstring around the waist. Fur-lined mittens were attached to a long cord that went through a loop at the back of the parka so they could be quickly removed without dropping or losing them. Their boots had heavy soles that, like moccasins, went up around the foot, and were fastened to softer leather that conformed to the leg and was folded over and wrapped with thongs. Inside was a loose-fitting liner of felt, made from the wool of mouflon that was wetted and pounded together until it matted. When it was especially wet, waterproof animal intestines, made to fit, were worn over the boot, but they were thin, wore out quickly, and were used only when necessary.

"Thonolan, how far do you really plan to go? You didn't mean it when you said all the way to the end of the Great Mother River, did you?" Jondalar asked, picking up a flint axe hefted to a short, sturdy, shaped handle and putting it through a loop on his belt next to the bone-handled flint knife.

Thonolan stopped in the process of fitting on a snowshoe and stood up. "Jondalar, I meant it," he said, without a hint of his usual joking.

"We may not even make it back for next year's Summer Meeting!"

"Are you having second thoughts? You don't have to come with me, Brother. I'm serious. I won't be angry if you turn back – it was a last-moment decision for you anyway. You know as well as I do, we may never get back home again. But if you want to go, you'd better do it now or you'll never make it back across that glacier until next winter."

"No, it wasn't a last-moment decision, Thonolan. I've been thinking about making a Journey for a long time, and this is the right time for it," Jondalar said with a tone of finality, and, Thonolan thought, a shade of unaccountable bitterness in his voice. Then, as though he were trying to shrug it off, Jondalar shifted to a lighter tone. "I never have made much of a Journey, and if I don't now, I never will. I made my choice, Little Brother, you're stuck with me."

The sky was clear, and the sun reflecting the white expanse of virgin snow before them was blinding. It was spring, but at their elevation the landscape showed no sign of it. Jondalar reached into a pouch hanging from his belt and pulled out a pair of snow goggles. They were made of wood, shaped to cover the eyes completely except for a thin horizontal slit, and tied around the head. Then, with a quick twist of the foot to wrap the thong loop into a snowshoe hitch around toe and ankle, he stepped into his snowshoes and reached for his backframe.

Thonolan had made the snowshoes. Spearmaking was his craft, and he carried with him his favorite shaft straightener, an implement made of an antler with the branching tines removed and a hole at one end. It was intricately carved with animals and plants of spring, partly to honor the Great Earth Mother and persuade Her to allow the spirits of the animals to be drawn to the spears made from the tool, but also because Thonolan enjoyed the carving for its own sake. It was inevitable that they would lose spears while hunting, and new ones would have to be made along the way. The straightener was used particularly at the end of the shaft where a hand grip was not possible, and by inserting the shaft through the hole, additional leverage was obtained. Thonolan knew how to apply stress to wood, heated with hot stones or steam, to straighten a shaft or to bend one around to make a snowshoe. They were different aspects of the same skill.

Jondalar turned to see if his brother was ready. With a nod, they both started out, and tramped down the gradual slope toward the timberline below. On their right, across forested lowland, they saw the snow-covered alpine foreland and, in the distance, the jagged icy peaks of the northernmost ridge of the massive mountain range. Toward the southeast, one tall peak was shining high above its brethren.

The highland they had crossed was hardly more than a hill by comparison, a massif that was the stump of eroded mountains far more ancient than the soaring peaks to the south. But it was just high enough and just close enough to the rugged range with its massive glaciers – that not only crowned but mantled the mountains down to moderate elevations – to maintain a year-round ice cover on its relatively level top. Someday, when the continental glacier receded back to its polar home, that highland would be black with forest. Now, it was a plateau glacier, a miniature version of the immense globe-spanning ice sheets to the north.

When the two brothers reached the treeline, they removed their goggles, which protected the eyes but limited visibility. Somewhat farther down the slope, they found a small stream that had begun as glacial melt seeping through fissures in the rock, flowed underground, then emerged filtered and cleared of silt in a sparkling spring. It trickled between snowy banks like many other small glacial runoffs.

"What do you think?" Thonolan asked, gesturing toward the stream. "It's about where Dalanar said she would be."

"If that's Donau, we should know soon enough. We'll know we are following the Great Mother River when we reach three small rivers that come together and flow east; that's what he said. I'd guess almost any of these runoffs should lead us to her eventually."

"Well, let's keep to the left now. Later she won't be so easy to cross."

"That's true, but the Losadunai live on the right, and we can stop at one of their Caves. The left side is supposed to be flathead country."

"Jondalar, let's not stop at the Losadunai," Thonolan said with an earnest smile. "You know they'll want us to stay, and we stayed too long already with the Lanzadonii. If we'd left much later, we wouldn't have been able to cross the glacier at all. We would have had to go around, and north of it is really flathead country. I want to get moving, and there won't be many flatheads this far south. And so what if there are? You're not afraid of a few flatheads, are you? You know what they say, killing a flathead is like killing a bear."

"I don't know," the tall man said, his worry lines puckered. "I'm not sure I'd want to tangle with a bear. I've heard flatheads are clever. Some people say they are almost human."

"Clever, maybe, but they can't talk. They're just animals."

"It's not the flatheads I'm worried about, Thonolan. The Losadunai know this country. They can get us started right. We don't have to stay long, just long enough to get our bearings. They can give us some landmarks, some idea of what to expect. And we can talk to them. Dalanar said some of them speak Zelandonii. I'll tell you what, if you agree to stop now, I'll agree to pass the next Caves by until the way back."

"All right. If you really want to."

The two men looked for a place to cross the ice-banked stream, already too wide to jump. They saw a tree that had fallen across, making a natural bridge, and headed for it. Jondalar led the way, and, reaching for a handhold, he put a foot on one of the exposed roots. Thonolan glanced around, waiting his turn.

"Jondalar! Look out!" he cried suddenly.

A stone whizzed past the tall man's head. As he dropped to the ground at the warning cry, his hand reached for a spear. Thonolan already had one in his hand and was crouching low, looking in the direction from which the stone had come. He saw movement behind the tangled branches of a leafless bush and let fly. He was reaching for another spear when six figures stepped out from the nearby brush. They were surrounded.

"Flatheads!" Thonolan cried, pulling back and taking aim.

"Wait, Thonolan!" Jondalar shouted. "They've got us outnumbered."

"The big one looks like the leader of the pack. If I get him, the rest may run." He pulled back his arm again.

"No! They may rush us before we can reach for a second spear. Right now I think we're holding them off – they're not making a move." Jondalar slowly got to his feet, keeping his weapon ready. "Don't move, Thonolan. Let them make the next move. But keep your eye on the big one. He can see you're aiming for him."

Jondalar studied the big flathead and had the disconcerting feeling that the large brown eyes staring back were studying him. He had never been so close to one before, and he was surprised. These flatheads did not quite fit his preconceived ideas of them. The big one's eyes were shaded by overhanging brow ridges that were accentuated by bushy eyebrows. His nose was large, narrow, rather like a beak, and contributed to making his eyes seem more deep-set. His beard, thick and tending to curl, hid his face. It was on a younger one, whose beard was just beginning, that he saw they had no chins, just protruding jaws. Their hair was brown and bushy, like their beards, and they tended to have more body hair especially around the upper back.

He could tell they had more hair because their fur wraps covered mainly their torsos, leaving shoulders and arms bare despite the nearly freezing temperature. But their scantier covering didn't surprise him nearly as much as the fact that they wore clothing at all. No animals he'd ever seen wore clothes, and none ever carried weapons. Yet each one of these had a long wooden spear – obviously meant to be jabbed, not thrown, though the sharpened points looked wicked enough – and some carried heavy bone clubs, the forelegs of large grazing animals.

Their jaws aren't really like an animal's, Jondalar thought. They just come forward more, and their noses are just large noses. It's their heads. That's the real difference.

Rather than full high foreheads, like his and Thonolan's, their foreheads were low and sloped back above their heavy brow ridges to a large fullness at the rear. It seemed as though the tops of their heads, which he could easily see, had been flattened down and pushed back. When Jondalar stood up to his full six feet six inches, he towered over the biggest one by more than a foot. Even Thonolan's mere six feet made him seem a giant beside the one who was, apparently, their leader, but only in height.

Jondalar and his brother were both well-built men, but they felt scrawny beside the powerfully muscled flatheads. They had large barrel chests and thick, muscular arms and legs, both bowed somewhat in an outward curvature, but they walked as straight and comfortably upright as any man. The more he looked, the more they seemed like men, just not like any men he'd seen before.

For a long tense moment, no one moved. Thonolan crouched with his spear, ready to throw; Jondalar was standing, but with his spear firmly gripped so it could follow his brother's the next instant. The six flatheads surrounding them were as unmoving as stones, but Jondalar had no doubts about how quickly they could spring into action. It was an impasse, a stand-off, and Jondalar's mind raced trying to think of a way out of it.

Suddenly, the big flathead made a grunting sound and waved his arm. Thonolan almost threw his spear, but he caught Jondalar's gesture waving him back just in time. Only the young flathead had moved, and he ran back into the bushes they had just stepped out of. He returned quickly, carrying the spear Thonolan had thrown, and, to his amazement, brought it to him. Then the young one went to the river near the log bridge and fished out a stone. He returned to the big one with it and seemed to bow his head, looking contrite. The next instant, all six melted back into the brush without a sound.

Thonolan breathed a sigh of relief when he realized they were gone. "I didn't think we were going to get out of that one! But I was sure going to take one of them down with me. I wonder what that was all about?"

"I'm not sure," Jondalar replied, "but it could be that young one started something the big one didn't want to finish, and I don't think it was because he was afraid. It took nerve to stand there and face your spear, and then make the move he did."

"Maybe he just didn't know any better."

"He knew. He saw you throw that first spear. Why else would he tell that youngster to go get it and give it back to you?"

"You really think he told him to do it? How? They can't talk."

"I don't know, but somehow that big one told the young one to give you back your spear and get his stone. Like that would make everything even. No one was hurt, so I guess it did. You know, I'm not so sure flatheads are just animals. That was smart. And I didn't know they wore furs and carried weapons, and walked just like we do."

"Well, I know why they're called flatheads! And they were a mean-looking bunch. I would not want to tangle with one of them hand to hand."

"I know – they look like they could break your arm like a piece of kindling. I always thought they were small."

"Short, maybe, but not small. Definitely not small. Big Brother, I've got to admit, you were right. Let's go visit the Losadunai. They live so close, they must know more about flatheads. Besides, the Great Mother River seems to be a boundary, and I don't think flatheads want us on their side."

The two men hiked for several days looking for landmarks given them by Dalanar, following the stream that was no different in character at this stage from the other stream – lets, rills, and creeks flowing down the slope. It was only convention that selected this particular one as the source of the Great Mother River. Most of them came together to form the beginning of the great river that would rush down hills and meander through plains for eighteen hundred miles before she emptied her load of water and silt into the inland sea far to the southeast.

The crystalline rocks of the massif that gave rise to the mighty river were among the most ancient on the earth, and its broad depression was formed by the extravagant pressures that had heaved up and folded the rugged mountains glistening in prodigal splendor. More than three hundred tributaries, many of them large rivers, draining the slopes of the ranges all along her course, would be gathered into her voluminous swells. And one day her fame would spread to the far reaches of the globe, and her muddy, silty waters would be called blue.

Modified by mountains and massifs, the influence of both the oceanic west and the continental east was felt. Vegetable and animal life were a mixture of the western tundra – taiga and the eastern steppes. The upper slopes saw ibex, chamois, and mouflon; in the woodlands deer were more common. Tarpan, a wild horse that would one day be tame, grazed the sheltered lowlands and river terraces. Wolves, lynxes, and snow leopards slunk noiselessly through shadows. Lumbering out of hibernation were omnivorous brown bears; the huge vegetarian cave bears would make a later appearance. And many small mammals were poking noses out of winter nests.

The slopes were forested mostly with pine, though spruce, silver fir, and larch were seen. Alder was more prevalent near the river, often with willow and poplar, and rarely, dwarfed to little more than prostrate shrubs, pubescent oak and beech.

The left bank ascended from the river in a gradual grade. Jondalar and Thonolan climbed it until they reached the summit of a high bill. Looking out over the landscape, the two men saw rugged, wild, beautiful country, softened by the layer of white that filled hollows and smoothed outcrops. But the deception made traveling difficult.

They had not seen any of the several groups of people – such groups were thought of as Caves whether they lived in one or not – who referred to themselves as Losadunai. Jondalar was beginning to think they had missed them.

"Look!" Thonolan pointed.

Jondalar followed the direction of his outstretched arm and saw a wisp of smoke rising out of a wooded copse. They hurried ahead and soon came upon a small band of people clustered around a fire. The brothers strode into their midst raising both hands in front of them, palms up, in the understood greeting of openness and friendship.

"I am Thonolan of the Zelandonii. This is my brother, Jondalar. We are on our Journey. Does anyone here speak our tongue?"

A middle-aged man stepped forward, holding his hands out in the same manner. "I am Laduni of the Losadunai. In the name of Duna, the Great Earth Mother, you are welcome." He gripped both of Thonolan's hands with his and then greeted Jondalar in the same manner. "Come, sit by the fire. We will eat soon. Will you join us?"

"You are most generous," Jondalar replied formally.

"I traveled west on my Journey, stayed with a Cave of Zelandonii. It's been some years, but Zelandonii are always welcome." He led them to a large log near the fire. A lean-to had been constructed over it as protection from wind and weather. "Here, rest, take your pack off. You must have just come off the glacier."

"A few days ago," Thonolan said, shrugging off his backframe.

"You are late for crossing. The foehn will come any time now."

"The foehn?" Thonolan asked.

"The spring wind. Warm and dry, out of the southwest. It blows so hard trees are uprooted, limbs torn off. But it melts the snow very quickly. Within days, all this can be gone and buds starting," Laduni explained, moving his arm in a broad sweep to indicate the snow. "If it catches you on the glacier, it can be fatal. The ice melts so quickly, crevasses open up. Snow bridges and cornices give way beneath your feet. Streams, even rivers, start flowing across the ice."

"And it always brings the Malaise," a young woman added, picking up the thread of Laduni's story.

"Malaise?" Thonolan directed his question to her.

"Evil spirits that fly on the wind. They make everyone irritable. People who never fight suddenly start arguing. Happy people are crying all the time. The spirits can make you sick, or if you are already sick, they can make you want to die. It helps if you know what to expect, but everyone is in a bad mood then."

"Where did you learn to speak Zelandonii so well?" Thonolan asked, smiling at the attractive young woman appreciatively.

The young woman returned Thonolan's look as frankly, but rather than answering, looked over to Laduni.

"Thonolan of the Zelandonii, this is Filonia of the Losadunai, and the daughter of my hearth," Laduni said, quick to understand her unspoken request for a formal introduction. It let Thonolan know she thought well of herself and didn't converse with strangers without proper introductions, not even handsome exciting strangers on a Journey.

Thonolan held out his hands in the formal greeting gesture, his eyes appraising and showing approval. She hesitated a moment, as though considering, then put her hands in his. He pulled her closer. "Filonia of the Losadunai, Thonolan of the Zelandonii is honored the Great Earth Mother has favored him with the gift of your presence," he said with a knowing grin.

Filonia flushed slightly at the bold innuendo she knew he intended with his allusion to the Gift of the Mother, though his words were as formal as his gesture seemed to be. She felt a tingle of excitement from his touch, and the sparkle of invitation was in her eyes.

"Now tell me," Thonolan continued, "where did you learn Zelandonii?"

"My cousin and I went across the glacier on our Journey and lived for a while with a Zelandonii Cave. Laduni had already taught us some – he talks with us often in your tongue so he won't forget it. He crosses every few years to trade. He wanted me to learn more."

Thonolan still held her hands and smiled at her. "Women don't often make long and dangerous Journeys. What if Doni had blessed you?"

"It wasn't really that long," she said, pleased with his obvious admiration. "I would have known soon enough to get back."

"It was as long a Journey as many men make," he insisted.

Jondalar, watching the interplay, turned to Laduni. "He's done it again," he said, grinning. "My brother never fails to single out the most attractive woman in sight and have her charmed within the first three heartbeats."

Laduni chuckled. "Filonia's young yet. She only had her Rites of First Pleasures last summer, but she's had enough admirers since then to turn her head. Ah, to be young again, and new to the Gift of Pleasure from the Great Earth Mother. Not that I don't enjoy it still, but I'm comfortable with my mate and don't have the same urge to seek new excitement often." He turned to the tall blond man. "We're just a hunting party and don't have many women with us, but you shouldn't have any problem finding one of our blessed of Duna willing to share the Gift. If none suits you, we have a large Cave, and visitors are always a reason for a festival to honor the Mother."

"I'm afraid we won't be going with you to your Cave. We've just started. Thonolan wants to make a long Journey and is anxious to get moving. Perhaps on our way back, if you'll give us directions."

"I'm sorry you won't be visiting – we haven't had many visitors lately. How far do you plan to go?"

"Thonolan talks about following Donau all the way to the end. But everyone talks about a long Journey when they begin. Who can tell?"

"I thought the Zelandonii lived close to the Great Water; at least they did when I made my Journey. I traveled a long way west, and then south. Did you say you just started out?"

"I should explain. You're right, the Great Water is only a few days from our Cave, but Dalanar of the Lanzadonii was mated to my mother when I was born, and his Cave is like home to me, too. I lived there for three years while he taught me my craft. My brother and I stayed with them. The only distance we've traveled since we left is across the glacier, and the couple of days to get there."

"Dalanar! Of course! I thought you looked familiar. You must be a child of his spirit; you look so much like him. And a flint knapper, too. If you are as much like him as you look, you must be good. He's the best I've ever seen. I was going to visit him next year to get some flint from the Lanzadonii mine. There is no better stone."

People were gathering around the fire with wooden bowls, and the delicious smells coming from that direction made Jondalar conscious of his hunger. He picked up his backframe to move it out of the way, then had a thought. "Laduni, I have some Lanzadonii flint with me. I was going to use it to replace broken tools along the way, but it's heavy to carry, and I wouldn't mind unloading a stone or two. I'd be happy to give it to you if you'd like it."

Laduni's eyes lit up. "I'd be happy to take it, but I'd want to give you something in return. I don't mind getting the better side of a good trade, but I wouldn't want to cheat the son of Dalanar's hearth."

Jondalar grinned. "You're already offering to lighten my load and feed me a hot meal."

"That's hardly enough for good Lanzadonii stone. You make it too easy, Jondalar. You hurt my pride."

A good-natured crowd was gathering around them, and when Jondalar laughed, they joined in.

"All right, Laduni, I won't make it easy. Right now, there's nothing I want – I'm trying to lighten my load. I'll ask you for a future claim. Are you willing?"

"Now he wants to cheat me," the man said to the crowd, grinning. "At least name it."

"How can I name it? But I'll want to collect it on my way back, agreed?"

"How do I know I can give it?"

"I won't ask what you can't give."

"Your terms are hard, Jondalar, but if I can, I'll give you whatever you ask. Agreed."

Jondalar opened his backframe, took out the things on top, then pulled out his pouch and gave Laduni two nodules of flint already prepared. "Dalanar selected them and did the preliminary work," he said.

Laduni's expression made it obvious he didn't mind getting two pieces of flint selected and prepared by Dalanar for the son of his hearth, but he mumbled, loud enough for everyone to hear, "I'm probably trading my life for two pieces of stone." No one made any comment about the probability of Jondalar ever returning to collect.

"Jondalar, are you going to stand around talking forever?" Thonolan said. "We've been asked to share a meal, and that venison smells good." He had a big grin on his face, and Filonia was by his side.

"Yes, the food is ready," she said, "and the hunting has been so good, we haven't used much of the dried meat we took with us. Now that you've lightened your load, you'll have room to take some with you, won't you?" she added with a sly smile at Laduni.

"It would be most welcome. Laduni, you have yet to introduce me to the lovely daughter of your hearth," Jondalar said.

"It's a terrible day when the daughter of your own hearth undermines your trades," he mumbled, but his smile was full of pride. "Jondalar of the Zelandonii, Filonia of the Losadunai."

She turned to look at the older brother, and suddenly found herself lost in overwhelmingly vivid blue eyes smiling down at her. She flushed with mixed emotions as she found herself drawn now to the other brother, and bowed her head to hide her confusion.

"Jondalar! Don't think I can't see that gleam in your eyes. Remember, I saw her first," Thonolan joked. "Come on, Filonia, I'm going to get you away from here. Let me warn you, stay away from that brother of mine. Believe me, you don't want to have anything to do with him, I know." He turned to Laduni and said in mock injury, "He does it every time. One look, that's all it takes. If only I had been born with my brother's gifts."

"You've got more gifts than any man needs, Little Brother," Jondalar said, then laughed his big, lusty, warm laugh.

Filonia turned back to Thonolan and seemed relieved to find him just as attractive as she had at first. He put his arm around her shoulder and steered her toward the other side of the fire, but she turned her head back to look at the other man. Smiling more confidently, she said, "We always have a festival to honor Duna when visitors come to the Cave."

"They won't be coming to the Cave, Filonia," Laduni said. The young woman looked disappointed for a moment, then turned to Thonolan and smiled.

"Ah, to be young again." Laduni chuckled. "But the women who honor Duna most seem to be blessed more often with young ones. The Great Earth Mother smiles on those who appreciate Her Gifts."

Jondalar moved his backframe behind the log, then headed toward the fire. A venison stew was cooking in a pot that was a leather skin supported by a frame of bones lashed together. It was suspended directly over the fire. The boiling liquid, though hot enough to cook the stew, kept the temperature of the cooking container too low to catch fire. The combustion temperature of leather was much hotter than the boiling stew.

A woman handed him a wooden bowl of the savory broth and sat down beside him on the log. He used his flint knife to spear the chunks of meat and vegetables – dried pieces of roots they had brought – and drank the liquid from the bowl. When he was through, the woman brought him a smaller bowl of herb tea. He smiled at her in thanks. She was a few years older than he, enough to have exchanged the prettiness of youth for the true beauty brought by maturity. She smiled back and sat beside him again.

"Do you speak Zelandonii?" he asked.

"Speak little, understand more," she said.

"Should I ask Laduni to introduce us, or can I ask your name?"

She smiled again, with the hint of condescension of the older woman. "Only young girls need someone say name. I, Lanalia. You, Jondalar?"

"Yes," he answered. He could feel the warmth of her leg and the excitement it raised showed in his eyes. She returned his gaze with a smoldering look. He moved his hand to her thigh. She leaned closer with a movement that encouraged him and promised experience. He nodded acceptance to her inviting look, though it wasn't necessary. His eyes returned her invitation. She glanced over his shoulder. Jondalar followed her gaze and saw Laduni coming toward them. She relaxed comfortably beside him. They would wait until later to fulfill the promise.

Laduni joined them, and shortly after, Thonolan came back to his brother's side of the fire with Filonia. Soon everyone was crowded around the two visitors. There was joking and banter, translated for those who could not understand. Finally, Jondalar decided to bring up a more serious subject. "Do you know much about the people down the river, Laduni?"

"We used to get an occasional visitor from the Sarmunai. They live north of the river downstream, but it's been years. It happens. Sometimes young people all go the same way on their Journeys. Then it becomes well known and not so exciting, so they go another way. After a generation or so, only the old ones remember, and it becomes an adventure to go the first way again. All young people think their discoveries are new. It doesn't matter if their ancestors did the same thing."

"For them it is new," Jondalar said but didn't pursue the philosophical lead. He wanted some solid information before he was drawn into a discussion that might be enjoyable, but not immediately practical. "Can you tell me anything about their customs? Do you know any words in their language? Greetings? What should we avoid? What might be offensive?"

"I don't know much, and nothing recent. There was a man who went east a few years ago, but he hasn't returned. Who knows, maybe he decided to settle some other place," Laduni said. "It's said they make their dunai out of mud, but that's just talk. I don't know why anyone would make sacred images of the Mother out of mud. It would just crumble when it dried."

"Maybe because it's closer to the earth. Some people like stone for that reason."

As he spoke, Jondalar unconsciously reached into the pouch attached to his belt and felt for the small stone figurine of an obese female. He felt the familiar huge breasts, her large protruding stomach, and her more than ample buttocks and thighs. The arms and legs were insignificant, it was the Mother aspects that were important, and the limbs on the stone figure were only suggested. The head was a knob with a suggestion of hair that carried across the face, with no features.

No one could look at the awesome face of Doni, the Great Earth Mother, Ancient Ancestress, First Mother, Creator and Sustainer of all life, She who blessed all women with Her power to create and bring forth life. And none of the small images of Her that carried Her Spirit, the donii, ever dared to suggest Her face. Even when She revealed Herself in dreams, Her face was usually unclear, though men often saw Her with a young and nubile body. Some women claimed they could take Her spirit form and fly like the wind to bring luck or wreak vengeance, and Her vengeance could be great.

If She was angered or dishonored, She was capable of many fearful deeds, but the most threatening was to withhold Her wondrous Gift of Pleasure that came when a woman chose to open herself to a man. The Great Mother and, it was claimed, some of Those Who Served Her could give a man the power to share Her Gift with as many women as he desired as often as he wished, or make him shrivel up so that he could bring Pleasure to none, nor find any himself.

Jondalar absentmindedly caressed the pendulous stone breasts of the donii in his pouch, wishing for luck as he thought about their Journey. It was true that some never returned, but that was part of the adventure. Then Thonolan asked Laduni a question that snapped him back to attention.

"What do you know about the flatheads around here? We ran into a pack a few days ago. I was sure we were going to end our Journey right there." Suddenly Thonolan had everyone's attention.

"What happened?" Laduni asked, tension in his voice. Thonolan related the incident they had had with the flatheads.

"Charoli!" Laduni spat.

"Who is Charoli?" Jondalar asked.

"A young man from Tomasi's Cave, and the instigator of a gang of ruffians who have taken it into their heads to make sport of the flatheads. We never had any trouble with them. They stayed on their side of the river; we stayed on ours. If we did cross over, they kept out of the way, unless we stayed too long. Then all they did was make it obvious they were watching. That was enough. It makes you nervous to have a bunch of flatheads staring at you."

"That's for sure!" Thonolan said. "But what do you mean, make sport of the flatheads? I wouldn't invite trouble from them."

"It all started as high spirits. One would dare the other to run up and touch a flathead. They can be pretty fierce if you annoy them. Then the young men started ganging up on any flathead they found alone – circle around and tease him, try to get him to chase after them. Flatheads have a lot of wind, but they have short legs. A man can usually outrun one, but he'd better keep going. I'm not sure how it started, but next Charoli's gang were beating up on them. I suspect one of those flatheads they were teasing caught someone, and the rest jumped in to defend their friend. Anyway, they started making a practice of it, but even with several against one flathead, they didn't get away without some good bruises."

"I can believe that," Thonolan said.

"What they did next was even worse," Filonia added.

"Filonia! It's disgusting! I won't have you talking about it!" Laduni said, and his anger was real.

"What did they do?" Jondalar asked. "if we're going to be traveling through flathead territory, we ought to know."

"I suppose you're right, Jondalar. I just don't like talking about it in front of Filonia."

"I'm a grown woman," she asserted, but her tone lacked conviction.

He looked at her, considering, then seemed to come to a decision. "The males started coming out only in pairs or groups, and that was too much for Charoli's gang. So they started trying to tease the females. But flathead females don't fight. There's no sport in picking on them, they just cower and run away. So his gang decided to use them for a different kind of sport. I don't know who dared who first – probably Charoli goaded them on. It's the kind of thing he'd do."

"Goaded them to do what?" Jondalar asked.

"They started forcing flathead females…" Laduni could not finish. He jumped up, more than angry. He was enraged. "It's an abomination! It dishonors the Mother, abuses Her Gift. Animals! Worse than animals! Worse than flatheads!"

"Do you mean they took their Pleasure with a flathead female? Forced? A flathead female?" Thonolan said.

"They bragged about it!" Filonia said. "I wouldn't let a man near me who took his Pleasure with a flathead."

"Filonia! You will not discuss such things! I will not have such filthy, disgusting language coming out of your mouth!" Laduni said. He was past rage; his eyes were hard as stone.

"Yes, Laduni," she said, bowing her head in shame.

"I wonder how they feel about it," Jondalar commented. "That might be why the young one went for me. I'd guess they'd be angry. I've heard some people say they could be human – and if they are…"

"I've heard that kind of talk!" Laduni said, still trying to calm himself. "Don't believe it!"

"The leader of that pack we ran into was smart, and they walk on their legs just like we do."

"Bears walk on their hind legs sometimes, too. Flatheads are animals! Intelligent animals, but animals." Laduni struggled to get himself under control, aware that the whole group was uncomfortable. "They're usually harmless unless you bother them," he continued. "I don't think it's the females – I doubt if they understand how it dishonors the Mother. It's all the baiting and beating up. If animals are annoyed enough, they'll strike out."

"I think Charoli's gang has made some problems for us," Thonolan said. "We wanted to cross over to the right bank so we wouldn't have to worry about crossing her later when she's the Great Mother River."

Laduni smiled. Now that they were on another subject, his rage left as quickly as it had come. "The Great Mother River has tributaries that are big rivers, Thonolan. If you are going to follow her all the way to the end, you're going to have to get used to crossing rivers. Let me make a suggestion. Keep to this side until after the big whirlpool. She separates into channels as she goes across some flat land, and smaller branches are easier to cross than one big river. By then, it'll be warmer, too. If you want to visit the Sarmunai, go north after you cross."

"How far is it to the whirlpool?" Jondalar asked.

"I'll scratch out a map for you," Laduni said, taking out his flint knife. "Lanalia, give me that piece of bark. Maybe some of the others can add some landmarks farther on. Allowing for river crossings and hunting along the way, you should make it to the place where the river turns south by summer."

"Summer," Jondalar mused. "I'm so tired of ice and snow, I can hardly wait until summer. I could use some warmth." He noticed Lanalia's leg next to his again, and put his hand on her thigh.