She looked into the basket, which was hanging around her neck so her hands would be free, to see how many seeds were in it, then positioned the stone in her hand and set to work. With one hand she held together a few stalks of ripe wild grains, with the other she grasped the stalks so that the round stone was pressed against them a little below the seed heads. Then, in a smooth motion, she pulled the stalks through her hand in one motion so that the hard stone stripped the seeds off into her hand. She emptied them into the basket and reached for the next few stalks.

It was slow, meticulous work, but not difficult once you got into the rhythm of it. Using a stone helped to strip the stalks more efficiently, and therefore faster. When Ayla asked, no one could remember where the idea came from, they'd been doing it that way for as long as anyone could remember.

As Matagan limped away, Ayla and Jondalar were both stripping grain seeds into their baskets. "You have a devoted admirer in the Fifth Cave, Ayla," Jondalar said. "Many others feel that way. You've made friends at this Meeting. Most people think of you as a Zelandoni. They are not used to a healer who is not a donier."

"Matagan is a nice young man," Ayla said, "and the fur-lined parka with the hood that his mother insisted on giving to me is beautiful, and roomy enough that I will be able to wear it this winter. She asked me to visit them after we return this autumn. Wasn't the home of the Fifth Cave the place we passed by on our way here?"

"Yes, it's upstream on a small tributary of The River. Maybe we'll stop on our way back. By the way, I'm going hunting with Joharran and several others in a few days. We may be gone a while," Jondalar said, trying to make it sound like a normal activity.

"I don't suppose I could go?" Ayla said wistfully.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to give up hunting for a while. You know, and Matagan's accident has made it plain, that hunting can be dangerous, especially if you are not quite as fast on your feet as you used to be. And after the baby is born, you'll be busy nursing and caring for it," Jondalar said.

"I hunted after Durc was born. One of the other women nursed him for me if I didn't get back in time to feed him."

"But you weren't gone for several days at a time."

"No, I just hunted small animals with my sling," she admitted.

"Well, you may be able to do that again, but you shouldn't go out with hunting parties for days at a time. Anyway, I'm your mate now. It's my job to take care of you and your children. That's what I promised when we mated. If a man can't provide for his mate and her children, what use is he? What's a man's purpose if women have children and provide for them, too?" Jondalar said.

Ayla had never heard Jondalar talk that way before. Did all men feel that way? she wondered. Did men need to find a purpose for their existence because they could not have children? She tried to imagine how it would feel if it were the other way around, if she could never have a baby and believed her only contribution was to help provide for them. She turned to face him.

"This baby would not be inside me if it were not for you, Jondalar," she said, putting her hands on the bulge below her breasts. "This baby is as much yours as mine. It's just growing inside me for a while. Without your essence, it would not have gotten started."

"You don't know that for sure," he said. "You may think so, but no one else does, not even Zelandoni."

The two stood facing each other in the middle of the open field, not antagonistic, but with conflicting beliefs. Jondalar noticed strands of sun-bleached blond hair had escaped from the restraining leather band and were whipping across her face in the wind. She was barefoot, and her tanned arms and breasts were exposed above the simple leather garment wrapped around her expanding middle and hanging loosely down to her knees to protect her body from the scratchy dry grasses they were gathering. Her eyes were determined, resolute, almost angrily defiant, but she looked so vulnerable. His look softened.

"It doesn't matter anyway. I love you, Ayla. I just want to take care of you and your baby," he said. He reached to enfold her in his arms.

"Our baby, Jondalar. Our baby," she said, putting her arms around him and clinging to his bare chest. He felt her bare breasts and the bulge of her stomach, and was glad for both.

"All right, Ayla. Our baby," he said. He wanted to believe it.

There was a noticeable nip in the air as they stepped out of the lodge. The leaves on the trees in the small woods were turning shades of yellow and an occasional red, and the grasses and herbs that were not trampled into dust around the encampment were brown and shriveled. Every bit of fallen wood or dry brush in the area had long since been burned, and the woods had been thinned out considerably.

Jondalar picked up the packs that had been lying on the ground near the opening of the lodge. "The horses with the pole drags are going to be a big help carrying back the winter food stores. It's been a good season."

Wolf raced up to them, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. One ear drooped slightly and had a ragged edge, giving him a raffish air. "I think he knows we're leaving," Ayla said. "I'm so glad he came back and stayed with us, even if he was hurt. I would have missed him. I'm looking forward to returning to the Ninth Cave, but I'll always remember this Summer Meeting. This is the Meeting we were mated."

"I enjoyed this Summer Meeting, too, I haven't been to one in so long, but now that we're leaving, I'm anxious to get back," Jondalar said, then smiled. He was thinking of the surprise that he knew was waiting for Ayla. She noticed a difference in his expression. His smile was more a delighted grin, and he projected a sense of expectation. She had a feeling there was something he wasn't telling her, but she had no idea what it could be.

"I'm glad the Lanzadonii came. It's a long way for them to travel, but Dalanar got the donier he wanted," he continued, "and Joplaya and Echozar are properly mated. The Lanzadonii are a small people yet, but it won't be long before there's a second Cave. They have a lot of young ones, and they've been lucky. Most have survived."

"I'm pleased that Joplaya is pregnant," Ayla said. "She was Blessed before they were joined, but I don't think many people heard that during the Matrimonial."

"Some people had other things on their minds, but I'm glad for them. Joplaya seems different, somehow, sadder. Maybe all she needs is a baby," Jondalar said.

"We'd better hurry. Joharran said he wanted to leave early," Ayla said.

She didn't want to talk about Joplaya's sadness because she knew the reason, and she didn't want to mention the long conversation she'd had with Jerika. Joplaya's mother had wanted some specific information from her. She told Ayla about her own difficulty in giving birth and wanted to know everything Ayla could tell her that might make a potentially difficult delivery easier. She also wanted to know about her medicine that could prevent conception, and ways to bring on a miscarriage if that didn't work. She feared for the life of her only child and would have been satisfied with no grandchildren rather than lose her daughter. But since she was already pregnant, and determined to have this baby, if she survived the delivery, Jerika was determined to make sure there would be no more pregnancies.

The Eleventh Cave had brought all their rafts upriver, and Joharran arranged to send some things back that way, but River Place only had so many rafts and all the Caves wanted to use them. The Ninth

Cave loaded as many rawhide packages of dried meat and baskets of gathered foods on the travoises and the backs of Whinney and Racer as they could. The lodges that had been their homes for the summer were taken down, and the parts that could be salvaged and reused were also loaded on the horses. Each person also carried a full backpack, and some people, seeing the pole drags of the horses, fashioned a similar device for themselves to drag. Ayla thought about making one for Wolf, but she hadn't trained him to pull one yet. Perhaps next year he would have a load, too.