by Jean M. Auel
She took a deep breath as soon as she stepped beyond the cave's mouth. Her relief was so great, she didn't care that icy rain soaked through her leather wrap. She slogged through the mucky quagmire in front of the cave toward the stream, shivering from a sudden chill. Patches of snow, blackened by soot sifting out from the many fires, sent muddy runnels of water down the slope adding their small measure to the drenching downpour that swelled the icelocked channel.
Her leather foot coverings gave small purchase on the reddish brown ooze, and she slipped and fell halfway down to the stream. Her limp hair, plastered against her head, hung in thick ropes extending into rivulets that cut through the mud clinging to her wrap before the rain washed it away. She stood for a long time on the bank of the watercourse struggling to break free of its frozen keep, and watched the dark water swirl around chunks of ice, finally break them loose, and send them careening to some unseen destination.
Her teeth were chattering when she struggled back up the slippery slope, watching the overcast sky grow imperceptibly lighter beyond the ridge to the east. She had to force herself through an invisible barrier that blocked the mouth of the cave, and felt the sense of uneasiness again the moment she entered.
«Ayla, you're soaked. Why did you go outside in this rain?» Creb gestured. He picked up a piece of wood and put it on the fire. «Get out of that wet wrap and come here by the fire. You'll catch a cold.»
She changed, then sat beside Creb at the fire, grateful that the silence between them was no longer strained.
«Creb, I'm so glad we talked last night. I went down to the stream; the ice is breaking loose. Summer's coming, we'll be able to take some long walks again.» «Yes, Ayla, summer's coming. If you want, we'll take long walks again. In summer.»
Ayla felt a chill. She had a horrible feeling she would never take a long walk with him again, and she had the feeling Creb knew it, too. She reached for him, and they held each other as though for the last time.
By midmorning the rain eased to a dreary drizzle and by afternoon stopped altogether. A wan, tired sun broke through the solid cloud cover but did little to warm or dry the drenched earth. Despite the dismal weather and sparse fare, the clan was excited by so notable an occasion for a feast. A change in leadership was rare enough, but a new mog-ur at the same time made it exceptional. Oga and Ebra would have a part to play in the ceremony, and Brac as well. The seven-year-old would be the next heir apparent.
Oga was a tight bundle of stretched nerves. She jumped up every other moment to check every fireplace where food was cooking. Ebra tried to calm her, but Ebra wasn't so settled herself. Trying to seem more grown-up, Brac was issuing commands to the small children and busy women. Brun finally stepped in and called him off to the side to practice his part once more. Uba took the children to Vorn's hearth to get them out of the way, and after most of the preparations were completed, Ayla joined her. Aside from helping to cook, Ayla's only role would be to make datura for the men since Creb had told her not to make the drink from the roots.
By evening, only a few wisps of clouds remained to dart fitfully before the full moon that lit the bare, lifeless landscape. Inside the cave, a large fire burned in a space behind the last hearth, defined by a circle of torches.
Ayla sat alone on her fur staring at the small hearth fire that snapped and crackled nearby. She still hadn't been able to shake her uneasiness. She decided to walk to the cave's entrance to look at the moon until the festivities began, but just as she stood up, she saw Brun's signal and turned heavy steps the other way. When everyone was in their correct places, Mog-ur came out of the place of the spirits followed by Goov, both cloaked in bearskins.
As the great holy man called forth the spirits for the last time, the years seemed to fall from him. He made the eloquent, familiar gestures with more power and force than the clan had seen for years. It was a masterful performance. He played his audience with the skill of a virtuoso, drawing forth their response with perfect timing in peak after suspenseful peak of evocative emotion, to a climax that wrung out their last drop and left them drained. Beside him, Goov was a faded copy. The young man was an adequate mog-ur, even a good one, but he couldn't match The Mog-ur. The most powerful magician the Clan had ever known had conducted his last and finest ceremony. When he turned it over to Goov, Ayla wasn't the only one who cried. The dry-eyed clan wept with their hearts.
Ayla's mind wandered as Goov went through the motions that retired Brun and raised Broud to the rank of leader. She was watching Creb and remembered the first time she saw his one-eyed, scarred face and reached out to touch him. She recalled his patience when he was trying to teach her to communicate, and her sudden burst of understanding. She reached for her amulet and felt a tiny scar on her throat where he had expertly nicked her to draw her blood as a sacrifice to the ancient spirits that allowed her to hunt. And she cringed with the memory of her clandestine visit to a small cave deep in a mountain. Then she remembered his look of loving sadness and his cryptic, enigmatic statement of the night before.
She only picked at her food at the feast celebrating the succession of the next generation to the realms of authority. The men filed into the small sacred cave to complete their ceremony in seclusion, and Ayla passed out the datura received from Goov, now a mog-ur. But she had no heart for the women's dance, her rhythms lacked verve, and she drank so little of the ceremonial tea, the effects wore off quickly. She returned to Creb's hearth as soon as she appropriately could and was asleep before Creb returned, but she slept fitfully. He stood over her bed watching her and her son before he hobbled to his own sleeping place.
«Mama go hunting? Durc go hunting with Mama?» the boy asked, jumping out of bed and heading for the mouth of the cave. Only a few people were stirring, but Durc was wide awake.
«Not until after breakfast, anyway, Durc. Come back here,» Ayla motioned and got up to get him. «Probably not at all today. Spring is here, but it's not that warm yet.» After he ate, Durc spied Grev and forgot about hunting as he raced to Broud's hearth. Ayla watched him go, with a feeling of tenderness turning up the corners of her mouth. The smile faded when she saw the way Broud looked at him. It made her scalp crawl. Both boys ran out together. Suddenly a feeling of claustrophobia overwhelmed her with such force, she thought she would vomit if she didn't get outside the cave. She bolted for the opening, feeling her heart beating rapidly, and took several deep breaths.
«Ayla!»
She jumped at the sound of her name spoken by Broud, then turned around, bowed her head, and looked down at the new leader.
«This woman would greet the leader,» she gestured formally. Broud seldom stood face to face with her. She was much taller than the tallest man in the clan, and Broud was not among the tallest. He barely reached her shoulder. She knew he didn't like looking up at her.
«Don't go running off anywhere. I'm going to have a meeting out here soon.»
Ayla nodded obediently.
The clan slowly congregated. The sun was shining, and they were glad Broud had decided to have his meeting outdoors in spite of the soggy ground. They waited for a while, then Broud strutted to the place formerly taken by Brun, supremely conscious of his new status.
«As you know, I am your new leader,» Broud started. His nervousness at speaking to the entire clan in his new capacity was betrayed by an opening statement that was patently obvious.
«Since the clan has a new leader and a new mog-ur, this is a good time to announce some other changes,» he continued. «I want to make it known that Vorn is now my second-in-command.»
There were nods; it was expected. Brun thought Broud should have waited until Vorn was older before raising his position above more experienced hunters, but everyone knew it was coming. It's probably just as well to do it now, he said to himself.
«There are some other changes,» Broud motioned. «A woman in this clan is not mated.» Ayla felt herself flush. «Someone must provide for her, and I do not want to burden my hunters with her.
I am leader now and I must be responsible for her. I will take Ayla as second woman to my hearth.»
Ayla had expected it, but it didn't make her any happier to know she was right.
She may not like it, Brun thought, but Broud is doing the right thing. Brun looked proudly at the son of his mate. Broud is ready for leadership.
«She has one deformed child,» Broud went on. «I want it known now, no more deformed children will be accepted into this clan. I don't want anyone to think it has anything to do with my personal feelings, when the next one is refused. If she has a normal child, I will accept it.»
Creb was standing near the entrance to the cave and shook his head as he watched Ayla blanch and bow her head lower to hide her face. Well, you can be sure I won't have any more children, Broud, not if Iza's magic works for me, she thought. I don't care if babies are started by men's totems or their organs, you won't start any more in me. I'm not going to give birth to babies that have to die because you think they're deformed.
«I've made it plain before,» Broud went on, «so this shouldn't come as any surprise. I will not have any deformed children living at my hearth.» Ayla's head jerked up. What does he mean? If I have to move to his hearth, my son comes with me.
«Vorn has agreed to take Durc to his hearth. His mate is fond of the boy, in spite of his deformity. He will be well cared for.»
There was a disturbed murmur and a flurry of hand signals from the clan.
Children belonged with their mothers until they were grown. Why would Broud take Ayla but refuse her son? Ayla broke out of her place and threw herself at Broud's feet.
Broud tapped her shoulder.
«I am not through yet, woman. It is disrespectful to interrupt the leader, but I will overlook it this time. You may speak.»
«Broud, you can't take Durc away from me. He's my son. Wherever a woman goes, her children go with her,» she motioned, forgetting to use any form of polite greeting or to phrase her statement as a request in her anxiety. Brun was glowering, his pride in the new leader gone.
«Are you, woman, telling this leader what he can or cannot do?» Broud motioned with a sneer on his face. He was pleased with himself. He had planned this for a long time, and he had gotten just the reaction he had hoped for.
«You are no mother. Oga is more mother to Durc than you are. Who nursed him?
Not you. He doesn't even know who his mother is. Every woman in the clan is mother to him. What difference does it make where he lives? He obviously doesn't care, he eats at everyone's hearth,» Broud said.
«I know I haven't been able to nurse him, but you know he is my son, Broud. He sleeps with me every night.»
«Well, he won't sleep with me every night. Can you deny that Vorn's mate is 'mother' to him? I have already told Goov…I mean the mog-ur, that the mating ceremony will be held after this meeting. There is no point in waiting. You will move to my hearth tonight, and Durc will move to Vorn's. Now go back to your place,» he commanded.
Broud glanced around the clan and noticed Creb leaning on his staff near the cave. The old man looked angry.
But, not nearly as angry as Brun. His face was a black rage as he watched Ayla return to her place. He struggled to control himself, to keep from interfering. There was more than anger in his eyes, the pain in his heart showed, too. The son of my mate, he thought, who I raised and trained and just made leader of this clan. He is using his position for revenge. Revenge against a woman, for wrongs he has imagined. Why didn't I see it before? Why was I so blind to him? Now I know why he raised Vorn's status so soon. Broud arranged the whole thing with him; he planned to do this to Ayla all along.
Broud, Broud, is that the first thing a new leader does? Puts his hunters in jeopardy with a young and inexperienced second to avenge himself against a woman? What pleasure can it bring you to separate a mother and her child when she has suffered so much pain already? Have you no heart, son of my mate? All she has of her son is to share her bed with him at night.
«I am not finished, I am not through,» Broud gestured, trying to get the attention of the shocked and uneasy clan. They finally settled down.
«This man was not the only one raised to a new position. We have a new mog-ur.
There are certain privileges that go with increased status. I have decided that Goov…the mog-ur, will move to the rightful hearth of the magician of the clan. Creb will move to the back of the cave.»
Brun shot a glance at Goov. Was he in on the arrangement, too? Goov was shaking his head with a puzzled look on his face.
«I don't want to move to The Mog-ur's hearth,» he said. «That has been his home ever since we moved into this cave.»
The clan was becoming more than uneasy about their new leader.
«I have decided you will move!» Broud gestured imperiously, angry at Goov's refusal. When he had noticed the crippled old man leaning on his staff glaring at him angrily, he suddenly realized the great Mog-ur was magician no more. What did he have to fear from a deformed old cripple? On impulse, he had made the offer, expecting Goov to jump at the choice spot in the cave as Vorn had jumped at the chance for increased status. He thought it would cement the new mog-ur's loyalty to him, make Goov obligated to him. Broud hadn't counted on Goov's loyalty, and love, for his mentor. Brun was unable to hold back any longer and was just about to speak out, but Ayla beat him to it.
«Broud!» Ayla shouted from her place. His head shot up. «You can't do that! You can't make Creb move from his hearth!» She was stomping toward him full of righteous wrath. «He needs a protected place. The wind blows too hard into the back. You know how he suffers in the winter.» Ayla had forgotten herself as a Clan woman; she was now the medicine woman protective of her patient. «You're doing it to hurt me. You're trying to get back at Creb because he took care of me. I don't care what you do to me, Broud, but leave Creb alone!» She was standing in front of him, towering over him, gesticulating angrily in his face.
«Who gave you permission to speak woman!» Broud stormed. He swung at her with a clenched fist, but she saw t coming and ducked. Broud was startled at reaching nothing but air Rage replaced his surprise as he started after her.
«Broud!» Brun's shout brought him to a standstill. He was too accustomed to obeying that voice, especially when it was raised in anger.
«That is Mog-ur's hearth, Broud, and will be his hearth until he dies. That will happen soon enough without your bringing it on sooner by moving him. He has served this clan long and well; he deserves that place. What kind of leader are you? What kind of a man are you? Using your position to get revenge on a woman? A woman who has never done anything to you, Broud, who couldn't if she tried. You are no leader!» «No, you are the one who is no leader, Brun, not anymore.» Broud had regained the realization of his position, and Brun's, after his initial impulse to obey. «I am leader now! I make the decisions now! You have always taken her side against me, always protected her. Well, you can't protect her anymore!» Broud was losing control, gesticulating wildly, his face purple with rage. «She will do what I say, or I will curse her! And it won't be temporary! You just saw her insolence, and you still stick up for her.
I won't stand for it! Not anymore. She deserves to be cursed for it. And I will! How do you like that, Brun? Goov! Curse her! Curse her! Now, right now! I want her cursed now.
No one will tell this leader what to do, least of all that ugly woman. Did you understand me? Curse her, Goov!»
Creb had been trying to get Ayla's attention from the moment she lashed out at Broud, trying to warn her. It didn't matter to him where he lived, front or back of the cave, it was all the same to him. His suspicions had been aroused from the moment Broud said he would take Ayla as second woman. It was too responsible a move for Broud to make without some reason. But his suspicions hadn't prepared, him for the ugly scene that followed. When he saw Broud order Goov to curse her, the last bit of fight went out of him. He didn't want to see any more, and turned his back to shuffle slowly into the cave. Ay
la glanced up just as he disappeared into the hole in the mountain.
Creb wasn't the only one upset by the confrontation. The whole clan was in an uproar, gesturing, shouting, milling around in confusion. Some couldn't bear to watch, while others gazed in rapt disbelief at the spectacle not one of them ever expected to witness in their entire lives. Their lives were too ordered, too secure, too bound by traditions and customs and habits.
They were surprised at Broud's irregular and unreasonable announcements separating Ayla and her son; they were shocked at Ayla's confrontation with the new leader no more than Broud's decision to move Creb; they were stunned as much by Brun's angry denunciation of the man he had just made leader as by Broud's uncontrolled temper tantrum demanding that Ayla be cursed. They were yet to be traumatized.
Ayla was shaking so hard she didn't feel the trembling beneath her feet until she saw people toppling over, unable to keep their balance. Her own face mirrored the stunned expressions of the rest as they changed to fear, and then stark terror. It was then she heard the deep, terrifying rumble from the bowels of the earth.
«Duurrrc!» she screamed, and saw Uba grab for him then fall on top of him as though trying to protect his small body with her own. Ayla started toward them, then suddenly remembered something that filled her with horror.
«Creb! He's inside the cave!»
She scrambled up the swaying slope trying to reach the large triangular entrance.
A huge rock rolled down the steep wall that held the opening and, deflected by a tree that splintered under the impact, crashed to the ground beside her. Ayla didn't notice. She was numb, in shock. The memories locked in her old nightmare were released, but jumbled and confused by sheer panic. In the roar of the earthquake, not even she heard the word in a long forgotten language torn from her lips.
