by Jean M. Auel
Like the rest, Ayla had been fascinated by Ranec’s unusual coloring, and charm, but she also found the beautiful stranger enthralling, and showed it, which brought out a jealousy in Jondalar that he didn’t know he had. The tall blond man with the compelling blue eyes had always been the one that women couldn’t resist, and he didn’t know how to handle the emotion he had never experienced before. Ayla didn’t understand his erratic behavior, and finally promised to mate Ranec because she thought Jondalar no longer loved her, and she did like the dark carver and his laughing eyes. The Lion Camp grew fond of Ayla and Jondalar that winter they lived with the Mamutoi, and they all had been more than aware of the emotional difficulties of the three young people.
Nezzie in particular developed a strong bond with Ayla because of her care and understanding of another unusual child the woman had adopted, who was weak, unable to speak, and half Clan. Ayla treated his weak heart and made his life more comfortable. She also taught Rydag the Clan sign language, and the ease and speed with which he learned it made her understand that he did have the Clan memories. She taught the whole Lion Camp a simpler form of the unspoken language so he could communicate with them, which made him extremely happy, and Nezzie overjoyed. Ayla quickly grew to love him—in part because Rydag reminded her of her own son, whom she’d had to leave behind, but more for himself, though ultimately she hadn’t been able to save him.
When Ayla decided to return home with Jondalar instead of staying to mate Ranec, though Nezzie knew how much Ayla’s leaving hurt the nephew she had raised, she gave the young woman the beautiful garments that had been made for her, and told her to wear them when she mated Jondalar. Ayla didn’t quite realize how much wealth and status the Matrimonial clothing conveyed, but Nezzie did and so did Mamut, the perceptive old spiritual leader. They had guessed from his bearing and manner that Jondalar came from people of high status, and that Ayla would need something to give her a good standing among them.
Though Ayla didn’t quite understand how much status her Matrimonial outfit displayed, she did understand the quality of the workmanship. The hides for the tunic and leggings had come from both deer and saiga antelope and were an earthy, golden yellow, almost the color of her hair. Part of the color was the result of the types of wood that were used to smoke the hides to keep them supple, and part the result of the mixtures of yellow and red ochers that were added. It had required a great deal of effort to scrape the skins to make them soft and pliable, but rather than being left with the velvety suede-like finish of buckskin, the leather had been burnished, rubbed with the ochers mixed with fat using an ivory smoothing tool that compacted the hide to a lustrous, shiny finish that made the soft leather almost waterproof.
The long tunic, sewn together with fine stitches, fell to a downward-pointing triangle at the back. It opened down the front with the sections below the hips tapering so that when it was brought together, another downward-pointing triangle was created. The full leggings were close fitting except around the ankle, where they could bunch softly or be brought down below the heel, depending on the footwear that was chosen. But the quality of the basic construction only laid the groundwork for the extraordinary outfit. The effort that went into the decoration made it an exquisite creation of rare beauty and value.
The tunic and lower part of the leggings were covered with elaborate geometric designs made primarily of ivory beads, some sections solidly filled in. Colored embroideries added definition to the geometric beaded pattern. They began with downward-pointing triangles, which horizontally became zigzags and vertically took on the shapes of diamonds and chevrons, then evolved into complex figures such as rectangular spirals and concentric rhomboids. The ivory beads were highlighted and accentuated by amber beads, some lighter and some darker than the color of the leather, but of the same tone. More than five thousand ivory beads made from mammoth tusks were sewn onto the garments, each bead carved, pierced, and polished by hand.
A finger-woven sash in similar geometric patterns was used to tie the tunic closed at the waist. Both the embroidery and the belt were made of yarns whose natural color needed no additional dyeing: deep red woolly mammoth hair, ivory mouflon wool, brown musk-ox underdown, and deep reddish-black woolly rhinoceros long hair. The fibers were prized for more than their colors; they all came from animals that were difficult and dangerous to hunt.
The workmanship of the entire outfit was superb in every detail; it was evident to knowledgeable Zelandonii that someone had acquired the finest materials and assembled the most skillful and accomplished people to make the garments.
When Jondalar’s mother had first seen it the year before, she knew that whoever had directed the outfit to be made commanded great respect and held a very high position within his community. It was clear that the time and effort it took to make it were considerable, yet the outfit had been given to Ayla when she left. None of the benefits of the resources and work that went into making it would stay within the community that made it. Ayla said she had been adopted by an old spiritual man she called Mamut, a man who obviously possessed such tremendous power and prestige—in effect, wealth—that he could afford to give away the mating outfit and the value it represented. No one understood that better than Marthona.
Ayla had, in effect, brought her own bride price, which gave her the status that she needed to contribute to the relationship so that mating her would not lower the position of Jondalar or his kin. Marthona made a point of mentioning that to Proleva, who she knew would tell her husband, Joharran, Marthona’s eldest son, leader of the Ninth Cave. Joharran was glad to have an opportunity to see the prized possession again, now that he fully understood its value. He realized that if properly cared for—and he was sure it would be—the clothing would last a long time. The ochers used to burnish the leather did more than add color and make it water resistant; they helped to preserve the material, and make it resistant to insects and their eggs. It would likely be used by Ayla’s children, and perhaps their children, and when the leather finally disintegrated, the amber and ivory beads could be reused for many more generations.
Joharran knew the value of ivory beads. Recently, he’d had occasion to trade for some, for himself but especially for his mate, and recalling the transaction, he looked at Ayla’s rich and luxurious clothing with new appreciation. As he looked around he noticed that many people were surreptitiously watching her.
Last year, when Ayla wore it for her Matrimonial, everything about her was strange and unusual, including the woman herself. Now people had become more accustomed to her, to the way she spoke, and to the animals she controlled. She was looked upon as a member of the zelandonia and therefore her strangeness seemed more normal, if one could consider any Zelandoni normal. But the outfit made her stand out again, made people recall her foreign origins, but also the wealth and status she brought with her.
Among those watching her were Marona and Wylopa. “Look at her flaunting that outfit,” Marona said to her cousin, her eyes full of envy. She would have been more than happy to flaunt it. “You know, Wylopa, that wedding outfit should have been mine. Jondalar Promised me. He should have come back and mated me, and given that outfit to me.” She paused. “Her hips are too broad for it anyway,” Marona said with scorn.
As Ayla and the others were making their way to a place that the Ninth Cave had claimed for watching the festivities, both Jondalar and his brother saw Marona. She was staring at Ayla with such malevolence, it made Joharran apprehensive, for Ayla’s sake. He glanced at Jondalar, who had also seen Marona’s glare of hatred, and a look of shared understanding passed between the two brothers.
Joharran moved closer to Jondalar. “You know that if she can, she will cause trouble for Ayla someday,” the leader said under his breath.
“I think you’re right, and it’s my fault, I’m afraid,” Jondalar said. “Marona thought I Promised to mate her. I didn’t, but I understand why she may have thought so.”
“It’s not your fault, Jondalar
. People have a right to make their own choices,” Joharran said. “You were gone a long time. She had no claim on you, and shouldn’t have had any expectations. After all, she mated and separated in the time you were gone. You made a better choice, and she knows it. She just can’t stand it that you brought back someone who has more to offer than she does. That’s why she’ll try to cause trouble someday.”
“Perhaps you are right,” Jondalar said, though he didn’t quite want to believe it. He wanted to give Marona the benefit of the doubt.
As the ceremony got under way, the two brothers got caught up in it, and thoughts of the jealous woman were forgotten. They hadn’t noticed another pair of eyes that were also watching Ayla: their cousin, Brukeval. He had admired the way Ayla stood up to the derisive laughter of the Cave when Marona tricked her into wearing inappropriate clothing that first day. When they met that evening, Ayla recognized his look of the Clan and felt comfortable with him. She treated him with an easy familiarity that he wasn’t used to, especially from beautiful women.
Then, when Charezal, that stranger from a distant Zelandoni Cave, began to make fun of him, derisively referring to him as a Flathead, Brukeval flew into a rage. He had been teased with that name by the other children of the Cave for as long as he could remember, and Charezal had obviously got wind of it. He had also heard that the way to get a reaction from the strange-looking cousin of the leader was to make innuendos about his mother. Brukeval never knew his mother; she died soon after he was born, but that only gave him reason to idealize her. She was not one of those animals! Could not be, and neither was he!
Though he knew Ayla was Jondalar’s woman, and there was no way he could ever win her from his tall, handsome cousin, in his mind, seeing her stand up to everyone’s laughter and not giving in to the ridicule made him admire her. For him it was love at first sight. Though Jondalar had always treated him well and never joined in when the others teased him, at that moment, he hated him, and hated Ayla as well because he couldn’t have her.
All the hurt that Brukeval had felt in his life, together with the nasty remarks from the young man who was trying to take Ayla’s attention away from him, erupted into uncontrollable anger. Afterward he noticed that Ayla seemed more distant, and no longer spoke to him with that familiar ease.
Jondalar didn’t say anything to Brukeval about her change in feeling toward him after his outburst, but Ayla had told him that Brukeval’s anger reminded her too much of Broud, the son of the leader of her clan. Broud had hated her from the beginning, and had caused her more pain and heartache than she ever could have imagined. She had learned to hate Broud as much as he hated her and, with good reason, to fear him. It was because of him that she was finally forced to leave the Clan, and to leave her son as well.
Brukeval remembered the warm glow he’d felt when they first met and watched Ayla from a distance whenever he could. The more he watched, the more enamored he became. When he saw the way she and Jondalar interacted, Brukeval would imagine himself in his cousin’s place. He even followed them when they went to some secluded place to share Pleasures, and when Jondalar tasted her milk, he hungered to do the same.
But he was wary of her, too, afraid she would call him a Flathead again, or her word for them, the Clan. Just their name, Flatheads, had caused him so much pain as he was growing up that he couldn’t bear the sound of it. He knew she didn’t think of them the way most people did, but that made it worse. She sometimes spoke of them fondly, with affection and even love, and he hated them. Brukeval’s feelings for Ayla were at cross-purposes. He loved Ayla, and he hated her.
The ceremonial part of the Matrimonial was long and drawn out. It was one of the few times when the complete names and ties of each of the Promised mates were recited. The matings were accepted by the members of their Caves agreeing aloud, and then by all the Zelandonii in attendance doing the same. Finally they were physically joined by a thong or cord that was wrapped, usually, around the right wrist of the woman and the left wrist of the man, although it could be the reverse, or even both left or both right wrists. After the cord was knotted, it would stay that way for the rest of the evening’s festivities.
People always smiled at the inevitable stumblings and bumpings of the newly mated ones, and while it might be funny to watch, many observed carefully to see how they reacted, how quickly they learned to accommodate each other. It was the first test of the bond to which they had just committed, and the elders made whispered opinions to each other about the quality and longevity of the various matings based on how well they became accustomed to the restriction of being physically bound to each other. Mostly, they would smile or laugh at each other and themselves and make efforts to work things out until later, when they were alone and could untie—never cut—the knot.
As difficult as it might be for couples, it was even more so for those who had decided on a triple, or more rarely a foursome, but that was considered only proper, since such a relationship would require more adaptation to succeed. Each person had to have at least one free hand, so it was usually the left hands of multiples that were bound together. Walking from place to place, getting food and eating, even passing water or more solid elimination all had to be synchronized whether it was two or more that had joined. Occasionally, a person just couldn’t stand the restraint and would become frustrated and angry, which never boded well for the mating, and rarely, the knot would be severed to break the relationship before it ever began. The severed knot was always the sign of the end of a mating, just as the tying of the knot symbolized the beginning of one.
10
The Matrimonial usually began in the afternoon or early evening to leave plenty of time for the festivities as it grew dark. The singing or reciting of the Mother’s Song always ended the formal Mating Ceremony and signaled the beginning of the feasting and other celebratory activities.
Ayla and Jondalar stayed through the entire formal ceremony, and though she was feeling bored before it was over, she would never admit it. She had watched people coming and going throughout the afternoon, and realized that she was not the only one who grew tired of the long recitation of names and ties, and the repetition of ritual words, but she knew how important the ceremony was to each couple or multiple and to their immediate kin, and part of that was the acceptance by all the Zelandonii in attendance. Besides, all of the zelandonia were expected to remain until the end, and she was included among them now.
Ayla had counted eighteen individual ceremonies, when she saw the First gather them all together. She had been told there might be twenty or more, but some of them were not certain. There were any number of reasons why participation in the formal Mating Ceremonial might be postponed, especially the first one of the season, ranging from uncertainty if the couple was ready to make the commitment to an important relative being delayed. There was always the Matrimonial at the end of the season for final decisions, late-arriving kin, arrangements not yet completed, or new summer liaisons.
Ayla smiled to herself when she heard the rich full tones of the First singing the opening verse of the Mother’s Song:
Out of the darkness, the chaos of time,
The whirlwind gave birth to the Mother sublime.
She woke to Herself knowing life had great worth,
The dark empty void grieved the Great Mother Earth.
The Mother was lonely. She was the only.
Ayla had loved the Legend of the Mother the first time she heard it, but she particularly loved the way it was sung by the One Who Was First Among Those Who Served The Great Earth Mother. The rest of the Zelandonii joined in, some singing, some reciting. Those who played flutes added their harmonies, and the zelandonia chanted a fugue in counterpoint.
She could hear Jondalar, who was standing beside her, singing. He had a good true voice, though he didn’t sing often, and when he did it was usually with the group. Ayla, on the other hand, couldn’t carry a tune; she never learned how, and didn’t seem to have a natural inclinati
on for singing. The best she could do was a singsong monotone, but she had memorized the words and spoke them with deep feeling. She particularly identified with the part where the Great Earth Mother had a son, “The Mother’s great joy, a bright shining boy,” and lost him. Tears came to her eyes whenever she heard:
The Great Mother lived with the pain in Her heart,
That She and Her son were forever apart.
She ached for the child that had been denied,
So She quickened once more from the life force inside.
She was not reconciled. To the loss of Her child.
Then came the part where the Mother delivered all the animals, also Her children, and especially when She gave birth to First Woman and then First Man.
To Woman and Man the Mother gave birth,
And then for their home, She gave them the Earth,
The water, the land, and all Her creation.
To use them with care was their obligation.
It was their home to use, But not to abuse.
For the Children of Earth the Mother provided,
The Gifts to survive, and then She decided,
To give them the Gift of Pleasure and sharing,
That honors the Mother with the joy of their pairing.
The Gifts are well earned, when honor’s returned.
The Mother was pleased with the pair she created,
She taught them to love and to care when they mated.
She made them desire to join with each other,
The Gift of their Pleasures came from the Mother.
