condescension of the older woman. “Only young girls need someone say name. I, Lanalia. You, Jondalar?”
“Yes,” he answered. He could feel the warmth of her leg and the excitement it raised showed in his eyes. She returned his gaze with a smoldering look. He moved his hand to her thigh. She leaned closer with a movement that encouraged him and promised experience. He nodded acceptance to her inviting look, though it wasn’t necessary. His eyes returned her invitation. She glanced over his shoulder. Jondalar followed her gaze and saw Laduni coming toward them. She relaxed comfortably beside him. They would wait until later to fulfill the promise.
Laduni joined them, and shortly after, Thonolan came back to his brother’s side of the fire with Filonia. Soon everyone was crowded around the two visitors. There was joking and banter, translated for those who could not understand. Finally, Jondalar decided to bring up a more serious subject. “Do you know much about the people down the river, Laduni?”
“We used to get an occasional visitor from the Sarmunai. They live north of the river downstream, but it’s been years. It happens. Sometimes young people all go the same way on their Journeys. Then it becomes well known and not so exciting, so they go another way. After a generation or so, only the old ones remember, and it becomes an adventure to go the first way again. All young people think their discoveries are new. It doesn’t matter if their ancestors did the same thing.”
“For them it is new,” Jondalar said but didn’t pursue the philosophical lead. He wanted some solid information before he was drawn into a discussion that might be enjoyable, but not immediately practical. “Can you tell me anything about their customs? Do you know any words in their language? Greetings? What should we avoid? What might be offensive?”
“I don’t know much, and nothing recent. There was a man who went east a few years ago, but he hasn’t returned. Who knows, maybe he decided to settle some other place,” Laduni said. “It’s said they make their dunai out of mud, but that’s just talk. I don’t know why anyone would make sacred images of the Mother out of mud. It would just crumble when it dried.”
“Maybe because it’s closer to the earth. Some people like stone for that reason.”
As he spoke, Jondalar unconsciously reached into the pouch attached to his belt and felt for the small stone figurine of an obese female. He felt the familiar huge breasts, her large protruding stomach, and her more than ample buttocks and thighs. The arms and legs were insignificant, it was the Mother aspects that were important, and the limbs on the stone figure were only suggested. The head was a knob with a suggestion of hair that carried across the face, with no features.
No one could look at the awesome face of Doni, the Great Earth Mother, Ancient Ancestress, First Mother, Creator and Sustainer of all life, She who blessed all women with Her power to create and bring forth life. And none of the small images of Her that carried Her Spirit, the donii, ever dared to suggest Her face. Even when She revealed Herself in dreams, Her face was usually unclear, though men often saw Her with a young and nubile body. Some women claimed they could take Her spirit form and fly like the wind to bring luck or wreak vengeance, and Her vengeance could be great.
If She was angered or dishonored, She was capable of many fearful deeds, but the most threatening was to withhold Her wondrous Gift of Pleasure that came when a woman chose to open herself to a man. The Great Mother and, it was claimed, some of Those Who Served Her could give a man the power to share Her Gift with as many women as he desired as often as he wished, or make himshrivel up so that he could bring Pleasure to none, nor find any himself.
Jondalar absentmindedly caressed the pendulous stone breasts of the donii in his pouch, wishing for luck as he thought about their
“Yes,” he answered. He could feel the warmth of her leg and the excitement it raised showed in his eyes. She returned his gaze with a smoldering look. He moved his hand to her thigh. She leaned closer with a movement that encouraged him and promised experience. He nodded acceptance to her inviting look, though it wasn’t necessary. His eyes returned her invitation. She glanced over his shoulder. Jondalar followed her gaze and saw Laduni coming toward them. She relaxed comfortably beside him. They would wait until later to fulfill the promise.
Laduni joined them, and shortly after, Thonolan came back to his brother’s side of the fire with Filonia. Soon everyone was crowded around the two visitors. There was joking and banter, translated for those who could not understand. Finally, Jondalar decided to bring up a more serious subject. “Do you know much about the people down the river, Laduni?”
“We used to get an occasional visitor from the Sarmunai. They live north of the river downstream, but it’s been years. It happens. Sometimes young people all go the same way on their Journeys. Then it becomes well known and not so exciting, so they go another way. After a generation or so, only the old ones remember, and it becomes an adventure to go the first way again. All young people think their discoveries are new. It doesn’t matter if their ancestors did the same thing.”
“For them it is new,” Jondalar said but didn’t pursue the philosophical lead. He wanted some solid information before he was drawn into a discussion that might be enjoyable, but not immediately practical. “Can you tell me anything about their customs? Do you know any words in their language? Greetings? What should we avoid? What might be offensive?”
“I don’t know much, and nothing recent. There was a man who went east a few years ago, but he hasn’t returned. Who knows, maybe he decided to settle some other place,” Laduni said. “It’s said they make their dunai out of mud, but that’s just talk. I don’t know why anyone would make sacred images of the Mother out of mud. It would just crumble when it dried.”
“Maybe because it’s closer to the earth. Some people like stone for that reason.”
As he spoke, Jondalar unconsciously reached into the pouch attached to his belt and felt for the small stone figurine of an obese female. He felt the familiar huge breasts, her large protruding stomach, and her more than ample buttocks and thighs. The arms and legs were insignificant, it was the Mother aspects that were important, and the limbs on the stone figure were only suggested. The head was a knob with a suggestion of hair that carried across the face, with no features.
No one could look at the awesome face of Doni, the Great Earth Mother, Ancient Ancestress, First Mother, Creator and Sustainer of all life, She who blessed all women with Her power to create and bring forth life. And none of the small images of Her that carried Her Spirit, the donii, ever dared to suggest Her face. Even when She revealed Herself in dreams, Her face was usually unclear, though men often saw Her with a young and nubile body. Some women claimed they could take Her spirit form and fly like the wind to bring luck or wreak vengeance, and Her vengeance could be great.
If She was angered or dishonored, She was capable of many fearful deeds, but the most threatening was to withhold Her wondrous Gift of Pleasure that came when a woman chose to open herself to a man. The Great Mother and, it was claimed, some of Those Who Served Her could give a man the power to share Her Gift with as many women as he desired as often as he wished, or make himshrivel up so that he could bring Pleasure to none, nor find any himself.
Jondalar absentmindedly caressed the pendulous stone breasts of the donii in his pouch, wishing for luck as he thought about their
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