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.