Jean Auel: The Valley Of Horses

He laughed. "You just made a joke, Ayla," he said, smiling askance. It was a little too close to the truth, and the joke had been made before. "But you are right. I love to give you Pleasures, I love your body, I love all of you."

"I like it when you Pleasure me, too. It makes love fill up inside me. You can Pleasure me as much as you want, only, sometimes, I want to Pleasure you."

He laughed again. "Agreed. And since you want to learn so much, I can teach you more. We can Pleasure each other, you know. I wish it was my turn to make 'love fill up inside you.' But you did it so well, I don't think even Haduma's touch could raise me."

Ayla was silent for a moment "It would not matter, Jondalar."

"What wouldn't matter?"

"Even if your manhood never rose again – you still make love fill up inside me."

"Don't ever say it!" He grinned, but gave a small shudder.

"Your manhood will rise again," she said with great solemnity, then giggled.

"What makes you so full of salt, woman? There are some things you shouldn't make jokes about," he said with mock offense, then laughed. He was surprised and pleased at her playfulness and new understanding of humor.

"I like to make you laugh. Laughing with you feels almost as good as loving you. I want you always to laugh with me. Then I think you won't ever stop loving me."

"Stop loving you?" he said, sitting up a bit and looking down at her. "Ayla, I looked for you all my life and didn't know I was looking. You are everything I ever wanted, everything I ever dreamed of in a woman, and more. You are a fascinating enigma, a paradox. You are totally honest, open; you hide nothing: yet you are the most mysterious woman I've ever met.

"You are strong, self-reliant, entirely able to take care of yourself and of me: yet you would sit at my feet – if I'd let you – with no shame, no resentment, as easily as I would honor Doni. You are fearless, courageous; you saved my life, nursed me back to health, hunted for my food, provided for my comfort. You don't need me. Yet you make me want to protect you, watch over you, make sure no harm comes to you.

"I could live with you all my life and never really know you; you have depths it would take many lifetimes to explore. You are wise and ancient as the Mother, and as fresh and young as a woman at First Rites. And you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I can't believe how lucky I am to get so much. I didn't think I was able to love anyone; now I know I was only waiting for you. I didn't think it was possible for me to love, Ayla, and I love you more than life itself."

Ayla had tears in her eyes. He kissed both eyelids, and he held her close, as though he was afraid he might lose her.

When they woke up the next morning, there was a thin layer of snow on the ground. They let the tent opening fall back and snuggled into the sleeping furs, but they both felt a sense of sadness.

"It's time to turn back, Jondalar."

"I suppose you're right," he said, watching his breath rise in a slight puff of steam. "It's still early in the season. We shouldn't run into any bad storms."

"You never know; the weather can surprise you."

They finally got up and started breaking camp. Ayla's sling brought down a great jerboa emerging from its subterranean nest in rapid bipedal jumps. She picked it up by a tail that was nearly twice as long as its body, and slung it over her back by hoof-like hind claws. At the campsite, she quickly skinned and spitted it.

"I'm sad to be going back," Ayla said, while Jondalar built up the fire. "It has been… fun. Just traveling, stopping where we wanted. Not worrying about bringing anything back. Making camp at noon just because we wanted to swim, or have Pleasures. I'm glad you thought of it."

"I'm sad it's over, too, Ayla. It's been a good trip."

He got up to get more wood, walking down toward the river. Ayla helped him. They rounded a bend and found a pile of rotted deadfall. Suddenly, Ayla heard a sound. She looked up and reached for Jondalar.

"Heyooo!" a voice called.

A small group of people were walking toward them, waving. Ayla clung to Jondalar; his arm was around her, protective, reassuring.

"It's all right, Ayla. They're Mamutoi. Did I ever tell you they call themselves the mammoth hunters? They think we are Mamutoi, too," Jondalar said.

As the group neared, Ayla turned to Jondalar, her face full of surprise and wonder. "Those people, Jondalar, they are smiling," she said. "They are smiling at me."

JEAN M. AUEL is now a firmly established literary presence whose first novel, The Clan of the Cave Bear, was heralded by the New York Times Book Review as "exciting, imaginative, and intuitively solid." Her prodigious research, begun in 1977, has led her to prehistoric sites in Europe to add to her firsthand knowledge of such arts as flint knapping, the construction of snow caves, tanning hides, and gathering and preparing wild foods and medicinal plants and herbs. The remarkable Earth's Children series continues with The Valley of Horses, The Mammoth Hunters, and The Plains of Passage. Mrs. Auel is now at work on her next novel in Oregon, where she lives with her husband.