"I'm glad you like it. I wanted to dress… your way."
"My way… I wonder if I know what my way is any more. Look at us! A man and a woman and two horses! One of them loaded with our tent and food and extra clothing. It feels strange to be starting on a Journey so unencumbered, to be carrying nothing except spears – and a spear thrower! And my pouch full of firestones. I think we'd be quite a surprise if anyone were to see us. But I'm more surprised at myself. I am not the same man I was when you found me. You have changed me, woman, and I love you for it."
"I, too, am changed, Jondalar. I love you."
"Well, which way do we go?"
Ayla felt a disquieting sense of loss as they walked the length of the valley, followed by the mare and her colt. When she reached the turn at the far end, she looked back.
"Jondalar! Look! Horses have come back to the valley. I haven't seen horses here since I first came. They left when I chased them and caught Whinney's dam. I am glad to see them back. I always did think this was their valley."
"Is it the same herd?"
"I don't know. The stallion was yellow, like Whinney. I don't see the stallion, only the lead mare. It's been a long time."
Whinney had seen the horses, too, and she gave a loud neigh. The greeting was returned, and Racer's ears turned toward them with interest. Then the mare followed the woman, and her colt trotted behind.
Ayla followed the river south and crossed when she saw the steep slope on the other side. She stopped at the top, end both she and Jondalar mounted Whinney. The woman found her landmarks and headed southwest. The terrain became rougher, more broken and folded, with rocky canyons and steep slopes leading to flat rises. When they neared an opening between jagged rock walls, Ayla dismounted and examined the ground. It held no fresh spoor. She led the way into a blind canyon, then climbed up on a rock that had split from the wall. As she walked to a rockslide at the back, Jondalar followed her.
"This is the place, Jondalar," she said, and, withdrawing a pouch from her tunic, she gave it to him.
He knew the place. "What is this?" he asked, holding up the small leather bag.
"Red earth, Jondalar. For his grave."
He nodded, unable to speak. He felt the pressure of tears and made no effort to check them. He poured the red ochre into his hand and broadcast it on the rocks and gravel, then spread a second handful. Ayla waited while he stared at the rocky slope with wet eyes, and, when he turned to go, she made a gesture over Thonolan's grave.
They rode for some time before Jondalar spoke. "He was a favorite of the Mother. She wanted him back."
They went a little farther, and then he asked, "What was that gesture you made?"
"I was asking the Great Cave Bear to protect him on his journey, to wish him luck. It means 'walk with Ursus'"
"Ayla, I didn't appreciate it when you told me. I do now. I am grateful to you for burying him, and for asking the Clan totems to help him. I think that, because of you, he will find his way in the spirit world."
"You said he was brave. I don't think the brave need help to find their way. It would be an exciting adventure for those who are fearless."
"He was brave, and he loved adventure. He was so full of life – as though he were trying to live it all at once. I would not have made this Journey if it hadn't been for him." His arms were around Ayla as they rode double. He tightened them, pulling her closer. "And I would not have found you.
"That's what the Shamud meant by saying it was my destiny! 'He leads where you would not otherwise go,' were the words. Thonolan led me to you… and then followed his love to the next world. I didn't want him to go, but I can understand him now."
As they continued west, the broken land gave way to flat open steppes again, crossed by the rivers and streams of runoff from the great northern glacier. The waterways cut through occasional high-walled canyons and meandered down gently sloping valleys. The few trees that graced the steppes were dwarfed by their struggle to live, even alongside the waters that fed their roots, and their shapes were tortured, as though frozen in the act of bending away from a violent gust.
They kept to the valleys when they could, for shelter from the wind, and for wood. Only there, protected, did birch, willow, pine, and larch grow in any abundance. The same was not true for animals. The steppes were a massive reserve of wildlife. With their new weapon, the man and woman hunted at will, whenever they wanted fresh meat, and they often left the remains of their kills for other predators and scavengers.
They had been traveling for half a moon's cycle of phases when a day dawned hot and unusually still. They had walked most of the morning, and they mounted when they saw a rise in the distance with a hint of green. Jondalar, prodded by Ayla's warmth and closeness, had worked his hand under her tunic to fondle her. They topped the hill and looked down at a pleasant valley watered by a large river. They reached the water when the sun was high.
"Should we go north or south, Jondalar?"
"Let's not do either. Let's make camp," he said.
She started to object, only because she was not accustomed to stopping so early for no reason. Then, when Jondalar nibbled at her neck and gently squeezed her nipple, she decided they had no reason to go on, and more than enough to stop.
"All right, let's make camp," she said. She threw a leg over and slid down. He dismounted and helped her remove the pack baskets from Whinney, so the horse could rest and graze. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her, reaching under her tunic again.
"Why don't you let me take it off," she said.
He smiled while she pulled the tunic over her head and undid the waist tie of the lower garment and stepped out of it. He pulled his tunic over his head, then heard her giggle. When he looked up, she was gone. She laughed again, then jumped into the river.
"I decided to go swimming," she said.
He grinned, took off his trousers, and followed her in. The river was deep and cold and the current swift, but she was swimming upstream so hard that he had difficulty catching up with her. He grabbed her and, treading water, kissed her. She ducked out of his arms and raced for the shore, laughing.
He went after her, but, by the time he reached the shore, she had raced up the valley. He took off after her, and, just as he reached her, she dodged away again. He chased her again, putting forth all his effort, and finally caught her around the waist.
"You're not getting away this time, woman," he said, pulling her close. "You'll tire me out chasing you – then I won't be able to give you Pleasures," he said, delighted with her playfulness.
"I don't want you to give me Pleasures," she said.
His jaw dropped, end lines creased his forehead. "You don't want me…" He let go of her.
"I want to give you Pleasures."
His heart started beating again. "You do give me Pleasures, Ayla," he said, taking her back in his arms.
"I know it pleases you to give me Pleasures – that's not what I mean." Her eyes were serious. "I want to learn to Pleasure you, Jondalar."
He couldn't resist her. His manhood was hard between them as he held her close, and he kissed her as though he couldn't get enough of her. She kissed him back, following his example. They lingered over the kiss, tasting, touching, exploring each other.
"I will show you how to please me, Ayla," he said, and, taking her hand, he found a place of green grass near the water. When they sat down, he kissed her again, then reached for her ear and kissed her neck, pushing her back. His hand was on her breast, and he was reaching for it with his tongue, when she sat up.
"I want to Pleasure you," she said.
"Ayla, it pleases me so much to give you Pleasure – I don't know how it could possibly please me more for you to Pleasure me."
"Will it please you less?" she asked.