backframe, took out the things on top, then pulled out his pouch and gave Laduni two nodules of flint already prepared. “Dalanar selected them and did the preliminary work,” he said.
Laduni’s expression made it obvious he didn’t mind getting two pieces of flint selected and prepared by Dalanar for the son of his hearth, but he mumbled, loud enough for everyone to hear, “I’m probably trading my life for two pieces of stone.” No one made any comment about the probability of Jondalar ever returning to collect.
“Jondalar, are you going to stand around talking forever?” Thonolan said. “We’ve been asked to share a meal, and that venison smells good.” He had a big grin on his face, and Filonia was by his side.
“Yes, the food is ready,” she said, “and the hunting has been so good, we haven’t used much of the dried meat we took with us. Now that you’ve lightened your load, you’llhave room to take some with you, won’t you?” she added with a sly smile at Laduni.
“It would be most welcome. Laduni, you have yet to introduce me to the lovely daughter of your hearth,” Jondalar said.
“It’s a terrible day when the daughter of your own hearth undermines your trades,” he mumbled, but his smile was full of pride. “Jondalar of the Zelandonii, Filonia of the Losadunai.”
She turned to look at the older brother, and suddenly found herself lost in overwhelmingly vivid blue eyes smiling down at her. She flushed with mixed emotions as she found herself drawn now to the other brother, and bowed her head to hide her confusion.
“Jondalar! Don’t think I can’t see that gleam in your eyes. Remember, I saw her first,” Thonolan joked. “Come on, Filonia, I’m going to get you away from here. Let me warn you, stay away from that brother of mine. Believe me, you don’t want to have anything to do with him, I know.” He turned to Laduni and said in mock injury, “He does it every time. One look, that’s all it takes. If only I had been born with my brother’s gifts.”
“You’ve got more gifts than any man needs, Little Brother,” Jondalar said, then laughed his big, lusty, warm laugh.
Filonia turned back to Thonolan and seemed relieved to find him just as attractive as she had at first. He put his arm around her shoulder and steered her toward the other side of the fire, but she turned her head back to look at the other man. Smiling more confidently, she said, “We always have a festival to honor Duna when visitors come to the Cave.”
“They won’t be coming to the Cave, Filonia,” Laduni said. The young woman looked disappointed for a moment, then turned to Thonolan and smiled.
“Ah, to be young again.” Laduni chuckled. “But the women who honor Duna most seem to be blessed more often with young ones. The Great Earth Mother smiles on those who appreciate Her Gifts.”
Jondalar moved his backframe behind the log, then headed toward the fire. A venison stew was cooking in a pot that was a leather skin supported by a frame of bones lashed together. It was suspended directly over the fire. The boiling liquid, though hot enough to cook the stew, kept the temperature of the cooking container too low to catch fire. Thecombustion temperature of leather was much hotter than the boiling stew.
A woman handed him a wooden bowl of the savory broth and sat down beside him on the log. He used his flint knife to spear the chunks of meat and vegetables—dried pieces of roots they had brought—and drank the liquid from the bowl. When he was through, the woman brought him a smaller bowl of herb tea. He smiled at her in thanks. She was a few years older than he, enough to have exchanged the prettiness of youth for the true beauty brought by maturity. She smiled back and sat beside him again.
“Do you speak Zelandonii?” he asked.
“Speak little, understand more,” she said.
“Should I ask Laduni to introduce us, or can I ask your name?”
She smiled again, with the hint of
Laduni’s expression made it obvious he didn’t mind getting two pieces of flint selected and prepared by Dalanar for the son of his hearth, but he mumbled, loud enough for everyone to hear, “I’m probably trading my life for two pieces of stone.” No one made any comment about the probability of Jondalar ever returning to collect.
“Jondalar, are you going to stand around talking forever?” Thonolan said. “We’ve been asked to share a meal, and that venison smells good.” He had a big grin on his face, and Filonia was by his side.
“Yes, the food is ready,” she said, “and the hunting has been so good, we haven’t used much of the dried meat we took with us. Now that you’ve lightened your load, you’llhave room to take some with you, won’t you?” she added with a sly smile at Laduni.
“It would be most welcome. Laduni, you have yet to introduce me to the lovely daughter of your hearth,” Jondalar said.
“It’s a terrible day when the daughter of your own hearth undermines your trades,” he mumbled, but his smile was full of pride. “Jondalar of the Zelandonii, Filonia of the Losadunai.”
She turned to look at the older brother, and suddenly found herself lost in overwhelmingly vivid blue eyes smiling down at her. She flushed with mixed emotions as she found herself drawn now to the other brother, and bowed her head to hide her confusion.
“Jondalar! Don’t think I can’t see that gleam in your eyes. Remember, I saw her first,” Thonolan joked. “Come on, Filonia, I’m going to get you away from here. Let me warn you, stay away from that brother of mine. Believe me, you don’t want to have anything to do with him, I know.” He turned to Laduni and said in mock injury, “He does it every time. One look, that’s all it takes. If only I had been born with my brother’s gifts.”
“You’ve got more gifts than any man needs, Little Brother,” Jondalar said, then laughed his big, lusty, warm laugh.
Filonia turned back to Thonolan and seemed relieved to find him just as attractive as she had at first. He put his arm around her shoulder and steered her toward the other side of the fire, but she turned her head back to look at the other man. Smiling more confidently, she said, “We always have a festival to honor Duna when visitors come to the Cave.”
“They won’t be coming to the Cave, Filonia,” Laduni said. The young woman looked disappointed for a moment, then turned to Thonolan and smiled.
“Ah, to be young again.” Laduni chuckled. “But the women who honor Duna most seem to be blessed more often with young ones. The Great Earth Mother smiles on those who appreciate Her Gifts.”
Jondalar moved his backframe behind the log, then headed toward the fire. A venison stew was cooking in a pot that was a leather skin supported by a frame of bones lashed together. It was suspended directly over the fire. The boiling liquid, though hot enough to cook the stew, kept the temperature of the cooking container too low to catch fire. Thecombustion temperature of leather was much hotter than the boiling stew.
A woman handed him a wooden bowl of the savory broth and sat down beside him on the log. He used his flint knife to spear the chunks of meat and vegetables—dried pieces of roots they had brought—and drank the liquid from the bowl. When he was through, the woman brought him a smaller bowl of herb tea. He smiled at her in thanks. She was a few years older than he, enough to have exchanged the prettiness of youth for the true beauty brought by maturity. She smiled back and sat beside him again.
“Do you speak Zelandonii?” he asked.
“Speak little, understand more,” she said.
“Should I ask Laduni to introduce us, or can I ask your name?”
She smiled again, with the hint of
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