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“I was twelve, and Zolena was my donii-woman, and I loved her. And she loved me. At first it was just that she seemed to know exactly how to please me, but then it was more. I could talk to her, about anything; we liked to be with each other. She taught me about women, what pleased them, and I learned well because I loved her and wanted to please her. I loved pleasing her. We didn’t mean to fall in love, we didn’t even tell each other, at first. Then we tried to keep it a secret. But I wanted her for my mate. I wanted to live with her. I wanted her children to be the children of my hearth.”
He blinked and Ayla saw a glistening wetness at the corners of his eyes as he stared at the fire.
“Zolena kept saying I was too young, I’d get over it. Most men are at least fifteen before they seriously start looking for a woman to be a mate. I didn’t feel too young. But it didn’t matter what I wanted. I couldn’t have her. She was my donii-woman, my counselor and teacher, and she wasn’t supposed to let me fall in love with her. They blamed her more than me, but that made it worse. She wouldn’t have been blamed at all if I hadn’t been so stupid!” Jondalar said, spitting it out.
“Other men wanted her, too. Always. Whether she wanted them or not. One was always bothering her—Ladroman. She had been his donii-woman a few years before. I suppose I can’t blame him for wanting her, but she wasn’t interested in him any more. He started following us, watching us. Then one time he found us together. He threatened her, said if she didn’t go with him, he’d tell everyone about us.
“She tried to laugh him off, told him to go ahead; there was nothing to tell, she was just my donii-woman. I should have done the same, but when he mocked us with words we had said in private, I got angry. No … I did not just get angry. I lost my temper and went out of control. I hit him.”
Jondalar pounded his fist on the ground beside him, then again, and again. “I couldn’t stop hitting him. Zolena tried to make me stop. Finally, she had to get someone else to pull me away. It’s good that she did. I think I would have killed him.”
Jondalar got up and began striding back and forth again. “Then it all came out. Every sordid detail. Ladroman told everything, in public … in front of everyone. I was embarrassed to find out how long he’d been watching us, and how much he had heard. Zolena and I were both questioned”—he blushed just remembering—‘and both denounced, but I hated it when she was held responsible. What made it worse was that I am my mother’s son. She was the leader of the Ninth Cave, and I disgraced her. The whole Cave was in an uproar.”
“What did she do?” Ayla asked.
“She did what she had to do. Ladroman was badly hurt. He lost several teeth. That makes it hard to chew, and women don’t like a man without teeth. Mother had to pay a large penalty for me as restitution, and when Ladroman’s mother insisted, she agreed to send me away.”
He stopped and closed his eyes, his forehead knotting with the pain of remembering. “I cried that night.” The admission was obviously difficult for him to make. “I didn’t know where I would go. I didn’t know mother had sent a runner to Dalanar to ask him to take me.”
He took a breath and continued. “Zolena left before I did. She had always been drawn to the zelandonia, and she went to join Those Who Serve the Mother. I thought about Serving, too, maybe as a carver—I thought I had a little talent for carving then. But word came from Dalanar, and the next thing I knew, Willomar was taking me to the Lanzadonii. I didn’t really know Dalanar. He left when I was young, and I only saw him at Summer Meetings. I didn’t know what to expect, but Marthona did the right thing.”
Jondalar stopped talking, and hunkered down near the fire again. Then he picked up a broken branch, dry and brittle, and added it to the flames. “Before I left, people avoided me, reviled me,” he continued. “Some people took their children away when I was around so they wouldn’t be exposed to my foul influence, as though looking at me might corrupt them. I know I deserved it, what we did was terrible, but I wanted to die.”
Ayla waited, silently watching him. She didn’t understand entirely the customs he spoke of, but she hurt for him with an empathy born of her own pain. She, too, had broken taboos and paid the harsh consequences, but she had learned from them. Perhaps because she was so different to begin with, she had learned to question whether what she had done was really so bad. She had come to understand that it wasn’t wrong for her to hunt, with sling or spear or anything she wanted, just because the Clan believed it was wrong for women to hunt, and she didn’t hate herself because she had stood up to Broud against all tradition.
“Jondalar,” she said, aching for him as he hung his head in defeat and recrimination, “you did a terrible thing”—he nodded agreement—“when you beat that man so hard. But what did you and Zolena do that was so wrong?” Ayla asked.
He looked at her, surprised at her question. He had expected scorn, derision, the kind of contempt he felt for himself. “You don’t understand. Zolena was my donii-woman. We dishonored the Mother. Offended Her. It was shameful.”
“What was shameful? I still don’t know what you did that was so wrong.”
“Ayla, when a woman assumes that aspect of the Mother, to teach a young man, she takes on an important responsibility. She is preparing him for manhood, to be the woman-maker. Doni has made it a man’s responsibility to open a woman, to make her ready to accept the mingled spirits from the Great Earth Mother so the woman can become a mother. It is a sacred duty. It is not a common, everyday relationship that anyone can have at any time, not something to be taken lightly,” Jondalar explained.
“Did you take it lightly?”
“No. Of course not!”
“Then what did you do wrong?”
“I profaned a sacred rite. I fell in love …”
“You fell in love. And Zolena fell in love. Why should that be wrong? Don’t those feelings make you feel warm and good? You didn’t plan to do it. It just happened. Isn’t it natural to fall in love with a woman?”
“But not that woman,” Jondalar protested. “You don’t understand.”
“You are right. I don’t understand. Broud forced me. He was cruel and hateful, and that’s what gave him pleasure. Then you taught me what Pleasures should be, not painful, but warm and good. Loving you makes me feel warm and good, too. I thought love always made you feel that way, but now you tell me it can be wrong to love someone, and it can cause great pain.”
Jondalar picked up another piece of wood and put it on the fire. How could he make her understand? You could love your mother, too, but you don’t want to mate her, and you don’t want your donii-woman to have the children of your hearth. He didn’t know what to say, but the silence was strained.
“Why did you leave Dalanar and go back?” Ayla asked, after a while.
“My mother sent for me … no, it was more than that. I wanted to return. As good as Dalanar was to me, as much as I liked Jerika, and my cousin, Joplaya, it was never quite home. I didn’t know if I could ever return. I was very worried about going back, but I wanted to go. I vowed never to lose my temper, never to lose control again.”
“Were you glad you went home?”
“It wasn’t the same, but after the first few days, it was better than I thought it would be. Ladroman’s family had left the Ninth Cave, and without him there to remind everyone, people forgot about it. I don’t know what I would have done if he’d still been there. It was bad enough at Summer Meetings. Every time I saw him I’d remember the disgrace. There was a lot of talk when Zolena first returned, a little later. I was afraid to see her again, but I wanted to. I couldn’t help it, Ayla, even after all that, I think I still loved her.” His look pleaded for understanding.
He stood again and started pacing. “But she had changed a lot. She’d already moved up in the ranks of the zelandonia. She was very much One Who Serves the Mother. I didn’t want to believe it at first. I wanted to see how much she had changed, to see if she had any feeling left for me. I wanted to be alone with her,
