Storytellers, maybe I'll go with you.'
'So will I,' Jondalar said.
When they arrived at the place, there seemed to be a break in the performance. A narrative had apparently just been concluded and a new one hadn't yet begun. People were milling around; some were leaving, some were arriving, some changing positions. Ayla looked over the area to get a sense of the place. The low platform, though empty now, was big enough to hold three or four people with room to move about. There were two somewhat rectangular fire trenches not directly in front of the platform, but on either side, for light rather than heat. In between and on either side of the fires were several logs arranged somewhat haphazardly in rows and a few good- sized stones, all of them covered with stuffed pads for easier sitting. There was an open space in front of the logs where people were sitting on the ground, many on some kind of ground covering, like woven grass floor mats or hides.
Several people, who had been sitting on a log near the front, stood up and walked away. Levela headed purposefully in that direction and sat down on the soft pad that covered the tree trunk. Jondecam quickly sat beside her; then they claimed space beside them for their friends who had been delayed by someone who greeted them along the way. While they were exchanging pleasantries, Galliadal approached.
'You did decide to come,' he said, bending down to greet Ayla, touching his cheek to hers and, Jondalar thought, holding it there too long. Ayla felt Galliadal's warm breath on her neck and noticed his pleasant manly smell, different from the one she was most familiar with. She also noticed the tension in Jondalar's jaw, in spite of his smile.
Several people were crowding around them and Ayla thought they probably wanted the Storyteller's attention. She had noticed that many people liked to flock around Galliadal, especially young women, and some were looking at her with a kind of expectancy, as though they were waiting for something. She didn't think she liked it.
'Levela and Jondecam are holding places in front for us,' Jondalar said. 'We should go and claim them.'
She smiled at Jondalar, and they went to join their friends, but when they arrived, some other people were also sitting on the log, taking some of the space Levela and Jondecam had been holding. They all crowded together, then waited.
'I wonder what's taking so long,' Jondecam said, getting a bit impatient.
Jondalar noticed that more people were arriving. 'I think they are waiting to see how many are coming. You know how it is: once they start, Storytellers don't like to have a lot of people moving around; it disrupts the telling. They don't mind a few slipping in quietly, but most people don't like to come in the middle of a story either. They'd rather hear it from the beginning. I think a lot of people were waiting until they were done with the story they were on. When they saw people moving away, they decided that was the time to come.'
Galliadal and several other people had stepped up to the low platform. They waited until people noticed them. When everyone stopped talking and it became quiet, the tall dark-haired man began.
'Far away in the land of the dawning sun …'
'That's the way all stories start,' Jondalar whispered to Ayla, as though he was pleased that it had begun right.
'… there lived a woman and her mate and her three children. The eldest was a boy named Kimacal.' When the Storyteller mentioned the first of the woman's offspring, a young man who was also on the platform stepped forward and made a slight bow, implying that he was the one referred to. 'The next one was a girl named Karella.' A young woman did a pirouette that ended in a bow when he mentioned the second child. 'The youngest one was a boy named Wolafon.' Another young man pointed to himself and grinned proudly when the third child was announced.
There was a slight murmur in the audience, and a few chuckles when the name of the youngest child was mentioned as people perceived a connection with Ayla's name for her four-legged hunter.
Although he wasn't shouting, Ayla noticed that the Storyteller's voice could be heard very well by the entire audience. He had a special way of speaking that was powerful, clear, and expressive. It made her think of her visit to the cave with the Zelandoni of the Twenty-sixth and his acolyte and the sounds the three of them had made in front of the cave before crawling in. It occurred to her that Galliadal could have become one of the zelandonia, if he wished.
'Though they were old enough, none of the young people were mated yet. Their Cave was small and they were closely related to most of the people near their age. The mother was beginning to worry that they would have to go far away to find mates, and she might not see them again. She had heard of an old Zelandoni who lived alone in a cave some distance up the river to the north. Some people talked in whispers about her, saying she could make things happen, but she might exact a payment that would be hard to make. The mother decided to go and find her,' the Storyteller said.
'One day after she returned, the woman sent her children out to the edge of a stream to collect cattail roots. When they arrived they met three other young people, a girl about the age of Kimacal, a boy about the age of Karella, and a girl about the age of Wolafon.'
This time the first young man on the platform smiled coquettishly when the older girl was mentioned, the young woman took a bravado stance, and the other young man assumed the posture of a shy young girl. There was laughter from the audience. When Ayla and Jondalar looked at each other, both were smiling.
'The three newcomers were strangers who had recently arrived from the land to the south. As all of them had been taught was appropriate, they greeted each other and introduced themselves, reciting their important names and ties.'
' 'We have come looking for food,' the eldest visitor explained.' Galliadal changed the timbre of his voice when he spoke as the young woman.
' 'There are many cattails here; we can share them,' Karella said.' The young woman mouthed the words Galliadal spoke, again changing his tone. 'They all started pulling cattail roots out of the soft mud by the edge of the stream, Kimacal helping the older foreign girl, Karella showing the middle boy where to dig, and Wolafon pulling out some roots for the shy younger girl, but the fair young woman wouldn't accept them. Wolafon could see that his brother and sister were enjoying the company of their pleasurable new friends, becoming very friendly.'
The laughter was now quite loud. Not only were the innuendos obvious, the young man portraying the older brother and the young woman on the platform were in an exaggerated embrace, while the younger brother looked on with envy. When Galliadal narrated, he changed his voice for each character as he spoke for them, while the others on the raised platform demonstrated, often very dramatically.
' 'These are good cattails. Why won't you eat them?' Wolafon asked the appealing stranger, 'I cannot eat cattails,' the young woman said. 'I can only eat meat.' ' When he spoke as the woman, he pitched his voice quite high.
'Wolafon didn't know what to do. 'Maybe I can hunt for some meat for you,' he said, but he knew he wasn't a very good hunter. He usually went along on game drives. He meant well, but he was a little lazy and never tried very hard to hunt himself. He went back to the home of his mother's Cave.
' 'Kimacal and Karella shared cattails with a woman and man from the south,' he told his mother. 'They have found mates, but the woman I want can't eat cattails. She can only eat meat, and I'm not a very good hunter. How can I find food for her?' ' Galliadal related.
Ayla wondered if 'sharing cattails' had some second meaning that she wasn't familiar with, like a joke she didn't understand, since the Storyteller went from eating cattails together to being mated in the next breath.
' 'There is an old Zelandoni who lives alone in a cave north of here near the river,' his mother said. 'She may be able to help you. But be careful what you ask for. You may get exactly what you want.' ' Galliadal again changed the timbre of his voice when he spoke as the mother.
'Wolafon set out to find the old Zelandoni. He travelled upriver for many days, looking into all the caves he happened to see along the way. He was almost ready to give up, but he saw a small cave high up in a cliff and decided that would be the last cave he would investigate. He found an old woman sitting in front of it, who seemed to be sleeping. He approached quietly, not wanting to disturb her, but he was curious and looked at her carefully,' Galliadal continued.
'Her clothes were nondescript, the same kind of thing most people wore, though rather shapeless and shabby. But she wore many necklaces made of a variety of materials: beads and shells; several pierced animal teeth and claws; animals carved out of ivory, bone, antler, and wood, some of stone and amber; and disc-shaped
