"I don't suppose it matters," he said. "But I wish your healer would let me stay with Thonolan. Even without words, it was clear my brother would get no help until I left. I don't doubt the healer's ability. I want to stay with him, that's all."
He was looking at her so earnestly that she laid a hand on his arm to reassure him. He tried to smile, but it was pained. The flap of the tent caught his attention as an older woman came out.
"Jetamio!" she called, adding other words.
The young woman got up quickly, but Jondalar held her hand to detain her. "Jetamio?" he asked, pointing to her. She nodded. "Jondalar," he said, tapping his own chest.
"Jondalar," she repeated slowly. Then she looked toward the tent, tapped herself, then him, and pointed to it.
"Thonolan," he said. "My brother's name is Thonolan."
"Thonolan," she said, repeating it as she hurried toward the tent. She had a slight limp, Jondalar noticed, though it didn't seem to hinder her.
His trousers were still damp, but he pulled them on anyway and made a dash for a wooded copse, not bothering to fasten them or put his boots on. He had been restraining his urge ever since he woke up, but his extra clothing was in his backframe, which had been left behind in the large tent where the healer was treating Thonolan. Jetamio's grin of the evening before made him think twice about casually sauntering over to the secluded patch of brush wearing nothing but his short inner shirt. Nor did he want to chance breaching some custom or taboo of these people who were helping him – not with two women in the camp.
He had first tried to get up and walk in his sleeping roll, and he had waited so long before it occurred to him to put on his trousers, wet or not, that he was close to forgetting his embarrassment and ready to make a run for it. As it was, Jetamio's laughter followed him.
"Tamio, don't laugh at him. It's not nice," the older woman said, but the force of her admonition was lost as she tried to suppress her own laughter.
"Oh, Rosh, I don't mean to make fun of him, I just can't help it. Did you see him try to walk in his sleeping bag?" She started giggling again, though she struggled to contain it. "Why didn't he just get up and go?"
"Maybe the customs of his people are different, Jetamio. They must have traveled a long way. I've never seen clothes like theirs before, and his language isn't even close. Most travelers have a few words that are similar. I don't think I could pronounce some of his words."
"You must be right. He must have some objection to showing his skin. You should have seen him blush last night just because I saw a little of his thigh. I never saw anyone so glad to see us, though."
"Can you blame him?"
"How is the other one?" the young woman said, serious again. "Has the Shamud said anything, Roshario?"
"I think the swelling is down, and the fever, too. At least he's sleeping quieter. The Shamud thinks he was gored by a rhino. I don't know how he lived through it. He wouldn't have much longer if that tall one hadn't thought of that way to signal for help. Even so, it was luck we found them. Mudo must have smiled on them. The Mother always has favored handsome young men."
"Not enough to keep… Thonolan from getting hurt. The way he was gored… Do you think he'll walk again?"
Roshario smiled tenderly at the young woman. "If he has half the determination you did, he'll walk, Tamio."
Jetamio's cheek reddened. "I think I'll go and see if the Shamud needs anything," she said, ducking toward the tent, and trying very hard not to limp at all.
"Why don't you bring the tall one his pack," Roshario called after her, "so he won't have to wear wet britches."
"I don't know which one is his."
"Bring them both, it'll make more room in there. And ask the Shamud how soon we can move… what's his name? Thonolan?"
Jetamio nodded.
"If we're going to be here a while, Dolando will have to plan a hunt. We didn't bring much food. I don't think the Ramudoi can fish with the river like that, though I think they'd be just as happy if they never had to come to shore. I like solid ground under me."
"Oh, Rosh, you'd be saying just the opposite if you had mated a Ramudoi man instead of Dolando."
The older woman eyed her sharply. "Has one of those rowers been making advances? I may not be your real mother, Jetamio, but everyone knows you are just like a daughter. If a man doesn't even have the courtesy to ask, he's not the kind of man you want. You can't trust those river men…
"Don't worry, Rash. I haven't decided to run off with a river man… yet," Jetamio said with a mischievous smile.
"Tamio, there are plenty of good Shamudoi men who will move into our lodging… What are you laughing at?"
Jetamio had both her hands at her mouth, trying to swallow the laughter that kept bubbling forth in snorts and giggles. Roshario turned in the direction the younger woman was looking, and slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from bursting out with laughter herself.
"I'd better get those packs," Jetamio finally managed to say. "Our tall friend needs some dry clothes." She started sputtering again. "He looks like a baby with full pants!" She made a dash for the tent, but Jondalar heard her laughter peal forth as she entered.
"Hilarity, my dear?" the healer said, cocking an eyebrow with a quizzical look.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come in here laughing like that. It's just…"
"Either I'm in the next world, or you're a donii who's come to take me there. No earthly woman could be so beautiful. But I can't understand a word you're saying."
Jetamio and the Shamud both turned toward the wounded man. He was looking at Jetamio with a weak smile. Her smile left her face as she kneeled beside him.
"I've disturbed him! How could I be so thoughtless?"
"Don't stop smiling, my beautiful donii," Thonolan said, taking her hand.
"Yes, my dear, you have disturbed him. But don't let it disturb you. I suspect he will be much more 'disturbed' before you are through with him."
Jetamio shook her head and gave the Shamud a puzzled look. "I came to ask if there was anything you needed, or if I could help in any way."
"You just did."
She looked more perplexed. Sometimes she wondered if she ever understood anything the healer said.
The piercing eyes took on a gentler look, with a touch of irony. "I've done all I can. He must do the rest. But anything that gives him more will to live can only help at this stage. You just did that with your lovely smile… my dear."
Jetamio blushed and bowed her head, then realized Thonolan was still holding her hand. She looked up and saw his laughing gray eyes. Her smile in response was radiant.
The healer made a throat-clearing sound, and Jetamio broke contact, a little flustered to realize she had been staring at the stranger so long. "There is something you can do. Since he's awake, and lucid, we might try giving him some nourishment. If there's any broth, I believe he would drink it, if it came from you."
"Oh. Of course. I'll get some," she said, hurrying out to cover her embarrassment. She saw Roshario attempting to talk to Jondalar, who was standing awkwardly and trying to look pleasant. She ducked back in to complete the rest of her errands.
"I need to get their packs, and Roshario wants to know how soon Thonolan can be moved."
"What did you say his name was?"
"Thonolan. That's what the other one told me."
"Tell Roshario a day or two yet. He's not up to a ride over rough water."
"How do you know my name, beautiful donii, and how do I ask yours?" She turned to smile at Thonolan before she hurried out with both packs. He settled back down with a self-satisfied grin, but gave a start when he noticed, for the first time, the white-haired healer. The enigmatic face held a catlike smile; wise, knowing, and a little predatory.
"Isn't young love splendid," the Shamud commented. The meaning of the words was lost on Thonolan, but not the wry sarcasm. It made him look closer.