"I didn't know Wolf had come back in here," Ayla said. "I hope he didn't bother you."
"No. He was watching out for me, I'm sure. When he first came in – he knows how to get around the flap – he came straight back here. After I patted him, he went and settled down in that corner and just looked this way. That's his place now, you know," Roshario said.
"Did you sleep well?" Ayla asked the woman, straightening her bed and propping her up with pads and furs to make her more comfortable.
"Better than I have since I fell. Especially after Dolando and I had a long talk," she said. She looked at the tall blond woman, the stranger that Jondalar had brought with him, who had stirred up their life and precipitated so much change in such a short time. "He really didn't mean what he said about you, Ayla, but he is upset. He has lived with Doraldo's death for years, never able to really put it away. He didn't know the full circumstances until last night. Now he's trying to reconcile years of hatred, and violence, toward what he was convinced were vicious animals, with all that came out about them, including you."
"How about you, Roshario? He was your son," Ayla said.
"I hated them, too, but then Jetamio's mother died, and we took her in. She didn't take his place, exactly, but she was so sick and needed so much care that I didn't have time to dwell on his death. As I came to feel as though she was my own daughter, I was able to let the memory of my son rest. Dolando grew to love Jetamio, too, but boys are special to men, especially boys born to their hearth. He couldn't get over the loss of Doraldo, just as he had reached manhood and had his life in front of him." Tears were glistening in Roshario's eyes. "Now Jetamio's gone, too. I was almost afraid to take Darvo in, for fear he would die young."
"It's never easy to lose a son," Ayla said, "or a daughter."
Roshario thought she saw a look of pain flash across the young woman's face as she got up and went to the fire to start preparations. When she came back, she brought her medicines in her interesting wooden bowls. The woman had never seen any quite like them. Most of their tools, utensils, and containers were decorated with carvings or paintings, or both, particularly Shamud's. Ayla's bowls were finely made, smooth and well-shaped, but starkly plain. There were no decorations of any kind, except for the grain of the wood itself.
"Are you feeling much pain now?" Ayla asked as she helped Roshario lie down.
"Some, but not nearly as much as before," the woman said, as the young healer started to remove the wrappings.
"I think the swelling is down," Ayla said, studying the arm. "That's a good sign. I'll put the splints and a sling back on it for now, in case you want to get up for a while. I'll put another poultice on tonight. When there is no more swelling, I'll wrap it in birchbark, which you should keep on until the bone is healed; at least a moon and halfway into another," Ayla explained, as she deftly took away the damp chamois skin and looked at a spreading bruise caused by her manipulations the day before.
"Birchbark?" Roshario said.
"When it is soaked in hot water, it softens and is easy to shape and fit. It gets hard and stiff as it dries, and will hold your arm rigid so the bone will heal straight, even when you are up and moving around."
"You mean I'll be able to get up and do something, instead of just lying around?" Roshario said with a delighted grin.
"You will only have the use of one arm, but there's no reason you can't stand on both legs. It was the pain that kept you here."
Roshario nodded. "That's true."
"There is one thing I want you to try before I put the wrappings back on. If you can, I want you to move your fingers; it might hurt a little."
Ayla tried not to show her concern. If there was some internal damage that prevented Roshario from moving her fingers now, it might be an indication that she would have only limited use of that arm. They were both watching her hand intently, and both smiled with relief when she moved her middle finger up, and then the rest of them.
"That's good!" Ayla said. "Now, can you curl your fingers?"
"I can feel that!" Roshario said as she flexed her fingers.
"Does it hurt too much to make a fist?" Ayla watched while she slowly closed her hand.
"It hurts, but I can do it."
"That's very good. How much can you move your hand? Can you bend it up at the wrist?"
Roshario grimaced with the effort and breathed in through her teeth, but she bent her hand forward.
"That's enough," Ayla said.
They both turned to look when they heard Wolf announce Jondalar's appearance with a single bark that sounded like a hoarse cough, and smiled when he entered.
"I came to see if there is anything I can do. Do you want me to help Roshario outside?" Jondalar asked. He had glanced at Roshario's exposed arm, then looked away quickly. The swollen, discolored thing did not look good to him.
"Nothing now, but sometime in the next few days I will need some wide strips of fresh birchbark. If you happen to see a good-size birch tree, keep it in mind so you can show me where it is. It's to hold her arm rigid while it's healing," Ayla replied while she wrapped it with splints.
"You never did tell me what all that finger moving was about, Ayla," Roshario said. "What did it mean?"
Ayla smiled. "It means that, with luck, the chances are good that you will have full use of your arm again, or close to it."
"That is indeed good news," Dolando said. He had heard her remark as he was coming into the dwelling holding one end of a drying rack. The other end was supported by Darvalo. "Will this do?"
"Yes, and thank you for bringing it inside. Some of the plants need to dry away from the light."
"Carolio says our morning meal is ready," the young man said. "She wants to know if you want to eat outside, since it's such a nice day."
"Well, I would," Roshario said, then turned to Ayla, "if you think it's all right."
"Just let me put the arm in a sling, and then you can walk out, if Dolando will give you a little support," Ayla said. The Shamudoi leader's smile was uncharacteristically broad. "And if no one minds, I would like to take a morning swim before I eat."
"Are you sure this thing is a boat?" Markeno said, helping Jondalar to prop the hide-covered round frame against the wall alongside the long poles. "How do you steer this bowl?"
"It's not as easy to control as your boats, but it's used mostly for crossing rivers, and the paddles work well enough to push it across. Of course with the horses, we just attached it to the pole drag and let them pull it," Jondalar said.
They both glanced across the field where Ayla was currying Whinney while Racer stood by. Jondalar had brushed the stallion's coat earlier and noticed that bare spots, where hair had fallen out on the hot plains, were filling in. Ayla had treated the eyes of both horses. Now that they were in a cooler, higher elevation away from the bothersome gnats, there was obvious improvement.
"It's the horses that are most surprising," Markeno said. "I never imagined they would willingly stay near people, but those two seem to enjoy it. Although I think I was more surprised by the wolf at first."
"You are more used to Wolf now. Ayla kept him close to her because she thought he would be more frightening to people than the horses."
They saw Tholie walking toward Ayla, with Shamio and Wolf running around her. "Shamio just loves him," Markeno said. "Look at her. I ought to be afraid, that animal could tear her apart, but he's not threatening at all. He's playing with her."