THE SHELTERS OF STONE

"On your way, you can stop off and tell Marthona, but don't go dragging her back here," Zelandoni said. Jondalar rushed out. "He stood there the whole time when Folara was born, as calm as you please. But it's always different when it's a man's own mate."

Ayla stopped again, waiting for the contraction to pass, then she started to prepare some tea. Zelandoni watched her, noting how longs he waited. Then she sat on a large stool that Ayla had made especially for Zelandoni's visits, knowing she did not like to sit on the ground or on cushions if she could help it. Ayla had been using it herself recently.

After they drank some tea and made some inconsequential conversation while Ayla had a few more contractions, Zelandoni suggested that she lie down so the donier could examine her. Ayla complied. Zelandoni waited for the next contraction and felt Ayla's stomach.

"It may not be too long after all," the healer said.

Ayla got up, thought about sitting down on a floor cushion, changed her mind and walked to her cooking area, had a sip of tea, and felt another contraction. She wondered if she should lie down again. This seemed to be happening faster than she expected.

Zelandoni checked her again, giving her a closer examination, then she looked at the young woman keenly. "This is not your first baby, is it?"

Ayla waited until a spasm passed before she answered. "No, it's not my first. I had a son," she said quietly.

Zelandoni wondered why he wasn't with her. Had he died? If he was stillborn, or if he died shortly after birth, that would be important to know. "What happened to him?" she asked.

"I had to leave him behind. I gave him to my sister, Uba. He still lives with the Clan, at least I hope he does."

"The delivery was very difficult, wasn't it?"

"Yes. I almost died giving birth to him," Ayla said in a flat, controlled tone, trying not to show any emotion about it, but the donier detected fear in her eyes.

"How old is he, Ayla? Or rather, how old were you when you had him?" Zelandoni wanted to know.

"I could not yet count my twelfth year," Ayla said, going into another labor pain. They were coming faster now.

"And now?" Zelandoni asked when it was over.

"Now I can count nineteen, twenty after this winter. I'm old to be having babies."

"No, you're not, but you were very young when you had your first. Too young. No wonder you had such a difficult time of it. You say you left him with your clan." She paused, thinking about how to ask the next question. "Your son, is he one of 'mixed spirits'?" the woman finally inquired.

Ayla didn't answer at first. She looked at Zelandoni and received as direct a look back, then suddenly she almost doubled up with a contraction. "Yes," she said when it was over, looking scared.

"I think that also contributed to your difficulty. From what I understand, children of mixed spirits can be very difficult for women to deliver. It's something about their heads, I'm told. They are shaped differently, and too big. They don't give as much," Zelandoni said. "This baby may not be as hard for you, Ayla. You're doing fine, you know."

The donier had seen her tense up with the last pain. Tensing up like that will only make it worse, she thought, but I'm afraid she's remembering a terrible delivery with her first. I wish she'd told me. I might have been able to help her. I wish Marthona would come. I think she needs someone paying close attention to her right now, but I would like to make something to help her relax. Maybe talking would take her mind off her fear. "Would you tell me about your son?"

"At first they thought he was deformed, and would be a burden to the clan," Ayla began. "He couldn't even hold his own head up in the beginning, but he grew strong. Everyone came to love him. Grod even made him a spear of his own, just his size. And he could run so fast, even as young as he was."

Ayla was smiling with tears in her eyes at the memory, and it gave the donier a surprising insight. She suddenly understood how much Ayla had loved the child, how proud she was of him, mixed spirits or not. When she said she had given him away to her "sister."

Zelandoni thought it might have been a relief to find someone who would take him.

Some of the zelandonia still talked about Brukeval's grandmother. Though it was never mentioned in public, most of them felt certain that the daughter to whom she gave birth was a child of mixed spirits. No one really wanted to take her after her mother died, and Brukeval suffered the same fate. He had the look of his mother, perhaps not as strong, but he was mixed, too, Zelandoni was convinced, though she would never admit to it aloud, especially not to him.