when I ask him to be. He adores babies,' Ayla said. Then she added, 'Have you seen the pole-drag that the One Who Is First rides on? If you would like to ride on it and be pulled around by a horse, I'd be happy to take you wherever you would like to go.'
'Or, if you need anyone to help carry you,' Jondalar added, 'my shoulders are strong and I have carried people that way before.'
'I thank you for your offers, but I have to tell you that it makes me tired to go visiting much. I used to love it. Now, even with someone carrying me, it's hard. I almost didn't come on this Journey, but if I hadn't, there would have been no one left to help me, and I can't manage without help. I do like it when people visit me, though.'
'Do you know how many years you can count?' the One Who Was First asked.
'About fourteen years,' he said. 'I reached manhood two summers ago, but things have been getting worse since then.'
The First nodded. 'When a boy reaches manhood, his body wants to grow,' she said.
'And mine doesn't know how to grow right,' Romitolo said.
'But you know how to think, and that is more than many can say,' the First said. 'I hope you live many more years. I think you have much to offer.'
The three women of the zelandonia rejoined each other later in the afternoon at the travellers' campsite. The large gathering area was too busy. What had started out to be a meeting of the neighbouring zelandonia had turned into an unscheduled Summer Meeting, and those who were cooking meals had taken over the covered space of the pavilion. No one else was in camp at the moment, and Ayla's sleeping tent was being used as a quiet place to talk. Even then they spoke softly.
'Should the hemlock be served tonight, or should we wait until tomorrow night?' the First said.
'I don't think there is any need to wait. I think we should get it over with as quickly as possible,' Zelandoni First said. 'And the water parsnips should be cooked while they are fresh, although they will keep for a while. I have an assistant, not quite an Acolyte, but a woman who helps me a lot. I will ask her to cook the hemlock roots.'
'Will you tell her what they are and who they are for?' the First asked.
'Of course. It would be dangerous for her if she didn't know exactly what she was cooking and why.'
'Is there anything you want me to do?' Ayla asked.
'You've done your share,' the First said. 'You gathered the plants to begin with.'
'Then I think I will go and find Jondalar. I haven't seen him all day,' Ayla said. 'When are we going to visit the Sacred Site?'
'I think it's best to wait a few days, after this whole Balderan matter is finished,' Zelandoni First said.
Balderan and his men had been watching both Ayla and Jondalar, and the wolf, very closely, though not overtly. It was getting dark and close to the time when the evening meal would be served. It wasn't officially being called a feast, but it would be a communal meal to which everyone was contributing, so it felt like a major celebration.
Ayla and Jondalar weren't entirely sure where the men were being held; it changed somewhat depending upon who was watching them. They were deeply involved in conversation with each other, and nearly walked into Balderan and his men.
Balderan looked around quickly, and noticed that the wolf was a little way off. The men who were supposed to be watching them also seemed distracted and not paying attention. 'Let's do it now!' he said.
Suddenly Balderan jumped out, grabbed Ayla, and the next instant had a leather thong around her neck. 'Stay back or she dies!' Balderan shouted as he pulled tight on the cord. Ayla gasped, trying to breathe.
The other men had armed themselves with stones that they were threatening to throw or perhaps use to hit her or whoever came after them. Balderan had been waiting for this moment. He had planned how it would go in his mind, and now that he had her, he was enjoying it. He was going to kill her, maybe not right away, but he was going to enjoy it. He was sure he knew how the big 'gentle giant' of a man would react.
But Balderan didn't know that Jondalar had cultivated that calm and restrained demeanour as part of his need to keep himself under control at all times. He had allowed his temper to get control of him before and knew what he was capable of doing.
Jondalar's first thought was how dare anybody try to harm Ayla! This time it wasn't temper, it was reaction.
In an instant, before any of the men even thought of moving, Jondalar took two long steps and was behind Balderan. He bent over and grabbed both his wrists and broke his hold, almost broke his arms. Then letting go of one arm, he spun him around and smashed him in the face with his fist. He was close to hitting him again, but the man slumped over in a daze, blood running down his face from his broken nose.
Balderan had misjudged Jondalar entirely. He was not only a big man, he was a powerful man with quick reflexes, a man who sometimes had to exert himself to control a spirited stallion. Racer was not a domesticated horse; he was a trained horse. Jondalar had lived with him from the day he was born and taught him, but Racer still had all the natural instincts of an extremely strong and sometimes wilful wild stallion. It took a lot of strength to handle the horse, and it kept the man in shape.
Balderan had doubled the leather cord which had originally been used to tie his shirt together. It was still hanging loosely around Ayla's neck, but the marks it had made were bright red, even in the dim light of fireplaces that were some distance away. People were belatedly running in their direction. Everything had happened so fast. Several Zelandonia, including the First, went to help Ayla, but she was trying to calm Wolf, and Jondalar wouldn't leave her side.
The people Zelandoni First had spoken to about how to deal with Balderan had gathered around him as he was lying on the ground. Suddenly Aremina, the woman who had been raped and whose mate he had killed, kicked him. Then the woman who had lost her daughter after she was held by them and badly mistreated, suddenly kicked him too. Then a man who had been badly beaten by the men after watching his mate and young daughter being raped, punched his face, breaking his nose again. Balderan's other men were trying to back away, but they were all surrounded now, and one of them was punched in the face.
There was no stopping the angry crowd now. Everyone who had been subject to the depredations of Balderan and his men was giving it back and then some. The crowd had turned into a mob. It had happened so fast, no one knew what to do at first; then the Zelandonia moved in to stop it. Ayla was among them shouting, 'Stop it! Stop it now! You are acting like Balderan.' But the people couldn't stop. All their frustrations, their feelings of impotence, humiliation, and powerlessness came out.
When the people settled down and looked around all four men were sprawled on the ground covered with blood. Ayla bent over Balderan to check him; he was dead and two others. One was barely hanging on to life, the one who had asked how he could make reparations. The wolf stayed with Ayla, watching the scene closely, a low growl in his throat, and she could tell he wasn't sure what to do. Ayla sat on the ground with her arms around his neck.
The First moved beside her. 'That's not at all the way I expected it to happen,' she said. 'I didn't realise there was so much pent up anger, but I should have.'
'Balderan brought it on himself,' Zelandoni First said. 'If he hadn't attacked Ayla, Jondalar would not have hit him. Once he was down, the people who had been hurt by him couldn't hold back. They knew he wasn't invincible. I guess there is no need for the hemlock now. I will have to make sure it is disposed of properly.'
Everyone was still tense and overexcited. It took a while for most people to understand what had happened. Those who had participated were beginning to feel a range of emotions. Some felt shame for what they had done; others felt relief, sorrow, excitement, even elation that Balderan had finally got back what he had given out.
Levela had kept Jonayla with her when Wolf ran out of the tent, though she wanted to follow him. Ayla had some of Balderan's blood on her when she returned, which upset her daughter. She assured Jonayla that it was not her own blood, but that of a man who was hurt.
The next morning Jondalar went to see the Zelandonia who were both called First to tell them that Ayla wanted to stay in her tent and rest that day. Her throat still hurt from the attempted strangulation. All the local zelandonia had been discussing how to help the people, whether they should call another meeting, or wait until people came to them.
As Jondalar walked back, he was aware that people were watching him, but he didn't care. And he didn't hear the comments. Men admired his strength and his speed, his reaction had been so swift; the women just admired him. To have a man like that, so handsome, so quick to jump to his woman's defence, who wouldn't want
