The Valley of Horses Read Online Free PDF

that glacier we just crossed to get you, Jondalar.” They started folding up the tent between them. “That one has had her eye on you for a long time, and just when she thought she had you, you decide it’s time to make a Journey. I think you just don’t want to slip your hand in that thong and let Zelandoni tie the knot. I think my big brother is mating-shy.” They put the tent beside the backframes. “Most men your age already have a little one, or two, at their hearths,” Thonolan added, ducking a mock punch from his older brother; the laughter now had reached his gray eyes.
    “Most men my age! I’m only three years older than you,” Jondalar said, feigning anger. Then he laughed, a big hearty laugh, its uninhibited exuberance all the more surprising because it was unexpected.
    The two brothers were as different as night and day, but it was the shorter dark-haired one who had the lighter heart. Thonolan’s friendly nature, infectious grin, and easy laughter made him quickly welcome anywhere. Jondalar was more serious, his brow often knotted in concentration or worry, and though he smiled easily, especially at his brother, he seldom laughed out loud. When he did, the sheer abandon of it came as a surprise.
    “And how do you know Marona won’t already have a little one to bring to my hearth by the time we get back,” Jondalar said, as they began rolling up the leather ground cloth, which could be used as a smaller shelter with one of the poles.
    “And how do you know she won’t decide my elusive brother isn’t the only man worthy of her well-known charms? Marona really knows how to please a man—when she wants to. But that temper of hers … You’re the only man who has ever been able to handle her, Jondalar, though Doni knows, there are plenty who would take her, temper and all.” They were facing each other with the ground clothbetween them. “Why haven’t you mated her? Everyone’s been expecting it for years.”
    Thonolan’s question was serious. Jondalar’s vivid blue eyes grew troubled and his brow wrinkled. “Maybe just because everyone expects it,” he said. “I don’t know, Thonolan, to be honest, I expect to mate her, too. Who else would I mate?”
    “Who? Oh, just anyone you wanted, Jondalar. There isn’t an unmated woman in all the Caves—and a few who are—who wouldn’t jump at the chance to tie the knot with Jondalar of the Zelandonii, brother of Joharran, leader of the Ninth Cave, not to mention brother of Thonolan, dashing and courageous adventurer.”
    “You forgot son of Marthona, former leader of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, and brother of Folara, beautiful daughter of Marthona, or she will be when she grows up.” Jondalar smiled. “If you’re going to name my ties, don’t forget the blessed of Doni.”
    “Who can forget them?” Thonolan asked, turning to the sleeping rolls, each made of two furs cut to fit each man and laced together around the sides and bottom, with a drawstring around the opening. “What are we talking about? I even think Joplaya would mate you, Jondalar.”
    They both started packing the rigid boxlike backframes that tapered outward toward the top. They were made of stiff rawhide attached to wooden slats and held on with leather shoulder straps made adjustable by a row of carved ivory buttons. The buttons were secured by threading a thong through a single center hole and knotting it in front to a second thong that passed back through the same hole and on to the next.
    “You know we can’t mate. Joplaya’s my cousin. And you shouldn’t take her seriously; she’s a terrible tease. We became good friends when I went to live with Dalanar to learn my craft. He taught us both at the same time. She’s one of the best flint knappers I know. But don’t ever tell her I said so. She’d never let me forget it. We were always trying to outdo each other.”
    Jondalar hoisted a heavy pouch that contained his tool-making implements and a few