Dolando stopped, started to say something about those who knew more than they had told him, yet aided him in his rampages… then he changed his mind.
"This woman," he went on, looking at Ayla, "this healer says she was raised by them, trained by those I thought were vicious animals, those I hated. Even if I still hated them, I could not hate her. Because of her, Roshario has been given back to me. Maybe it is time to try to understand.
"I think Tholie's idea is a good one. I would be happy if the Shamudoi accepted Ayla and Jondalar."
Ayla felt the relief wash over her. Now she truly understood why this man had been chosen by his people to lead them. In their day-today lives, they had come to know him well, and they knew the basic quality of the man.
"Well, Jondalar?" Roshario said. "What do you say? Don't you think it's time to give up this long Journey of yours? It's time to settle, time to set up your own hearth, time to give the Mother a chance to bless Ayla with a baby or two."
"I cannot find words to tell you how grateful I am," Jondalar began, "that you would welcome us, Roshario. I feel that the Sharamudoi are my people, my kin. It would be very easy to make a home here among you, and you tempt me with your offer. But I must return to the Zelandonii" – he hesitated for a moment – "if only for Thonolan's sake."
He paused, and Ayla turned to look at him. She had known he would refuse, but that was not what she expected him to say. She noticed a subtle, nearly indiscernible nod, as though he'd thought of something else. Then he smiled at her.
"When he died, Ayla gave Thonolan's spirit what comfort she could for his Journey through the next world, but his spirit was not laid to rest, and I am afraid, I have a feeling, that he wanders lost and alone, trying to find his way back to the Mother."
His remark surprised Ayla, and she watched him closely as he continued.
"I cannot leave it like that. Someone needs to help him find his way, but I know of only one who might know how: Zelandoni, a shamud, a very powerful shamud, who was there when he was born. Perhaps, with the help of Marthona – his mother and mine – Zelandoni might be able to find his spirit and guide it on the right path."
Ayla knew that wasn't the reason he wanted to return, at least not the main reason. She sensed that what he said was perfectly true but, she suddenly realized, like the answer she had given him when he asked her about the golden thread plant, it was not complete.
"You've been gone a long time, Jondalar," Tholie said, her disappointment clear. "Even if they could help him, how do you know if your mother, or this Zelandoni, are still alive?"
"I don't know, Tholie, but I have to try. Even if they can't help, I think Marthona and the rest of his kin would like to know how happy he was here, with Jetamio, and you and Markeno. My mother would have liked Jetamio, I'm sure, and I know she would like you, Tholie." The woman tried not to show it, but she could not help being pleased by his comment, even if she was disappointed. "Thonolan made a great Journey – and it always was his Journey. I only followed along to look out for him. I want to tell about his Journey. He traveled all the way to the end of the Great Mother River, but even more important, he found a place here, with people who loved him. It is a story that deserves to be told."
"Jondalar, I think you are still trying to follow your brother, to look out for him even in the next world," Roshario said. "If that is what you must do, we can only wish you well. I think Shamud would have told us that you must follow your own path."
Ayla considered what Jondalar had done. The offer made by Tholie and the Sharamudoi, to become one of them, was not made lightly. It was generous and very much an honor, and for those reasons it was hard to refuse without offending. Only a strong need to fulfill a higher goal, to follow a more compelling quest, could make the rejection acceptable. Jondalar chose not to mention that even though he thought of them as kin, they were not the kin he was homesick for, but his incomplete truth had provided a graceful and face-saving refusal.
In the Clan, not mentioning was acceptable to allow an element of privacy in a society where it was difficult to hide anything, because emotions and thoughts could be discerned so easily from postures, expressions, and subtle gestures. Jondalar had chosen to show a necessary consideration. She had the feeling that Roshario had suspected the truth, that she had accepted his excuse for the same reason that he had given it. The subtlety was not lost on Ayla, but she wanted to think about it, and she realized that generous offers could have more than one side to them.
"How long will you stay, Jondalar?" Markeno asked.
"We have traveled farther than I thought we would by now. I did not expect to get here until fall. I think, because of the horses, we are moving faster than I expected," he explained, "but we still have a long way to go, and there are difficult obstacles ahead. I would like to leave as soon as we can."
"Jondalar, we can't leave so soon," Ayla interjected. "I can't go until Roshario's arm is healed."
"How long will that take?" Jondalar said with a frown.
"I told Roshario her arm would have to be held rigid in that birch-bark for a moon and halfway into the next," Ayla said.
"That's too long. We can't stay that long!"
"How long can we stay?" Ayla asked.
"Not very long at all."
"But who will take the bark off? Who will know when the time is right?"
"We have sent a runner for a shamud," Dolando offered. "Wouldn't another healer know?"
"I suppose so," Ayla said, "but I would like to talk to this shamud. Jondalar, can't we stay at least until he comes?"
"If it's not too long, but maybe you should consider telling Dolando or Tholie what to do, just in case."
Jondalar was brushing Racer, and it seemed that the stallion's coat was growing in and thickening fast. He thought he had detected a decided nip in the air that morning, and the stallion seemed particularly frisky.
"I think you are as eager as I am to be moving, aren't you, Racer?" he said. The horse flicked his ears in Jondalar's direction at the sound of his name, and Whinney tossed her head and nickered. "You want to go, too, don't you, Whinney? This really isn't a place for horses. You need more open country to run in. I think I should remind Ayla of that."
He gave Racer a final slap on the rump, then headed back toward the overhang. Roshario seems much better, he thought when he noticed the woman sitting alone near the large fireplace, sewing with one hand, using one of Ayla's thread-pullers. "Do you know where Ayla is?" he asked her.
"She and Tholie went off with Wolf and Shamio. They said they were going to the boat-making place, but I think Tholie wanted to show Ayla the Wishing Tree and make an offering for an easy birth and a healthy baby. Tholie is beginning to show her blessing," Roshario said.
Jondalar hunkered down beside her. "Roshario, there is something I've been meaning to ask you," he said, "about Serenio. I felt terrible leaving her like I did. Was she… happy, when she left here?"
"She was upset, and very unhappy at first. She said you offered to stay, but she told you to go with Thonolan. He needed you more. Then Tholie's cousin unexpectedly arrived. He's like her in many ways, says what he thinks."
Jondalar smiled. "That's the way they are."
"He looks like her, too. He's a good head shorter than Serenio, but strong. He made up his mind in a hurry, too. He took one look at her and decided she was the one for him – he called her his 'beautiful willow tree,' the Mamutoi word for it. I never thought he would convince her, I almost told him not to bother – not that anything I said would have stopped him – but I thought it was hopeless, that she'd never be satisfied with anyone else after you. Then one day I saw them laughing together, and I knew I was wrong. It was like she came to life after a long winter. She blossomed. I don't think I've seen her so happy since her first man, when she had Darvo."