by Jean M. Auel
More people started to crowd around, and no one seemed interested in leaving now. The man who had asked for the demonstration came forward. He looked at the boy, noticed the decorations on his tunic and the small necklace around his neck, and seemed surprised. “That boy is not Ninth Cave, he’s Nineteenth. You just arrived, when did he learn to use that thing?”
“This morning,” Ayla said.
“He threw a spear that far and he only learned this morning?” the man said.
Ayla nodded. “Yes. Of course, he hasn’t learned how to hit what he aims for yet, but that will come with time, and practice.” She glanced at the youngster.
Lanidar’s grin was so full of pride, Ayla had to smile, too. He gave her the spear-thrower and she selected a light spear, set it on top of the thrower, and heaved it with all her might. People watched as it flew high and landed well beyond the targets Jondalar had set out. Everyone was so busy watching the spear, few noticed that she had selected a second spear and hurled it. It landed in one of the targets with a satisfying sound, and several people turned their heads in surprise to see the long dart sticking out of the neck of the painted deer.
The hubbub of voices grew, and when Ayla looked at Jondalar, his grin was as wide as Lanidar’s had been. People crowded around them both, wanting to see the new implements, and several wanted to try them. But when they asked to use hers, Ayla directed them to Jondalar, making excuses about having to find Wolf. She found that while she didn’t mind offering to let someone use her weapon, she didn’t like it as well when people asked to use hers, though she was surprised at her reaction. She had never had much that she thought of as her own.
She was getting a little concerned about Wolf’s whereabouts and looked for him. She saw him sitting beside Folara and Marthona on the side of the slope. The young woman noticed her looking at them and held up the willow grouse. Ayla headed in their direction.
A woman approached her as she left the target field, then she saw that Lanidar was with her, but hanging back a little. “I am Mardena of the Nineteenth Cave of the Zelandonii,” said the woman, holding out both hands in greeting.” We are hosting this year. In the name of the Mother, I welcome you to this Summer Meeting.” She was a small woman, and thin. Ayla could see a resemblance to Lanidar.
“I am Ayla, of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, formerly of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi. In the name of Doni, the Great Earth Mother, known also as Mut, I greet you,” Ayla replied.
“I am Lanidar’s mother,” Mardena said.
“I thought you might be. There is a resemblance,” Ayla said.
She noticed Ayla’s strange accent and was slightly put off by it. “I’d like to ask how you know my son. I asked him, but he can be very closemouthed sometimes,” his mother said, looking a bit exasperated.
“Boys are like that,” Ayla said with a smile. “Someone told him there were horses at our camp. He came to see. I happened to be there at the time.”
“I hope he didn’t bother you,” Mardena said.
“No, not at all. In fact, he could be a help to me. I am trying to keep the horses out of the way, for their own safety, until everyone gets used to them and knows they are not horses to be hunted. I plan to build an enclosure for them, but I haven’t had time, so for now, I just have them on long ropes fastened to a tree. The ropes drag the ground and get caught in grass and brush, and then the horses can’t move around as well. I’ve asked Lanidar if he would check on them when I have to be gone for some time, and come and tell me if there is a problem. I just want to make sure they are all right,” Ayla said.
“He’s just a boy, and horses are rather big, aren’t they?” the boy’s mother asked.
“Yes, they are, and if they are crowded, or in an unknown situation, they sometimes get frightened. Then they might rear or kick out, but they took to Lanidar quite well. They are very gentle with children and people they know. You are welcome to come and see for yourself. But if it troubles you, I’ll find someone else,” Ayla said.
“Don’t say no, mother!” Lanidar implored, rushing up. “I want to do it. She let me touch them, and they ate out of my hands, both hands! And she showed me how to throw a spear with that spear-thrower. All the boys throw spears, and I never threw a spear before.”
Mardena knew that her son longed to be like the other boys, but she felt that he had to learn that he never would be. It had hurt when the man who had been her mate left after Lanidar was born. She was sure that he was ashamed of the child, and she thought everyone felt the same way. In addition to the handicap, Lanidar was small for his age, and she tried to protect him. Spear-throwing didn’t mean anything to her. She had come to watch the demonstration only because everyone else was and she thought Lanidar might enjoy watching. But when she looked for him, she couldn’t find him. No one was more surprised than Lanidar’s mother when the foreign woman called on him to demonstrate the new weapon, and she had to find out how Ayla came to know him.
Ayla could see her hesitation. “If you are not busy, why don’t you come to the camp of the Ninth Cave tomorrow morning with Lanidar. You can see the boy with the horses and judge for yourself,” Ayla said.
“Mother, I can do it. I know I can do it,” Lanidar pleaded.
26
I need to think about it,” Mardena said. “My son is not like other boys. He can’t do the same things they do.”
Ayla looked at the woman. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Certainly you can see that his arm limits him,” the woman said.
“Somewhat, but many people learn to overcome those kinds of limitations,” Ayla said.
“How much can he overcome? You must know he’ll never be a hunter, and he can’t make things with his hands. That doesn’t leave much,” Mardena said.
“Why can’t he be a hunter or learn to make things?” Ayla said. “He’s intelligent. He can see well. He has one perfectly good arm and some use of the other. He can walk, he can even run. I’ve seen far worse problems overcome. He just needs someone to teach him.”
“Who would teach him?” Mardena said. “Even the man of his hearth didn’t want to.”
Ayla thought she was begining to understand. “I would be happy to teach him, and I think Jondalar would be willing to help. Lanidar’s left arm is strong. He might have to learn to compensate for the right arm, balance mostly, for accuracy, but I’m sure he could learn to throw a spear, especially with a spear-thrower.”
“Why should you bother? We don’t live at your Cave. You don’t even know him,” the woman said.
Ayla didn’t think the woman would believe that she would do it because she liked the boy, though she had just met him. “I think we all have an obligation to teach children whatever we can,” she said, “and I have just become Zelandonii. I need to make a contribution to my new people to show that I am worthy. Besides, if he helps me with the horses, I would owe him a debt, and I would want to give him something of like value in return. That is what I was taught when I was a girl.”
“Even if you try to teach him, what if he can’t learn to hunt? I hate to get his hopes up,” the boy’s mother said.
“He needs to learn some skills, Mardena. What will he do when he grows up, and you become too old to protect him? You don’t want him to be a burden on the Zelandonii. Neither do I, no matter where he lives.”
“He knows how to gather food with the women,” Mardena said.
“Yes, and that is a worthwhile contribution, but he should learn some other skills. At least he should try,” Ayla said.
“I suppose you’re right, but what can he do? I’m not sure he could really hunt,” Lanidar’s mother said.
“You saw him throw a spear, didn’t you? Even if he doesn’t become an excellent hunter—though I think he could—if he learns to hunt, it could lead to other things.”
“Like what?”
Ayla tried to think of something in a hurry. “He’s a good whistler, Mardena. I’ve heard him,” she said. “A p
erson who knows how to whistle can often learn to imitate the sounds that animals make. If he can, then he could learn to be a Caller, and entice them to where the hunters are waiting. You don’t need arms for that, but he would need to be where animals are so he could hear them, and learn how they sound.”
“It’s true, he is a good whistler,” Mardena said, considering something she hadn’t thought of. “Do you really think he could do something with that?”
Lanidar had been listening to the discussion with keen interest. “She whistles, mother. She can whistle like birds,” he interjected. “And she whistles to call her horses, but she can imitate a horse, and she sounds just like one when she does.”
“Is that true? Can you make the sound of a horse?” the mother asked.
“Why don’t you and Lanidar come and visit the camp of the Ninth Cave tomorrow morning, Mardena,” Ayla said. She was sure the woman was going to ask her to demonstrate, and she didn’t really want to make a loud horse neigh with so many people around. They would all turn and stare at her.
“Can I bring my mother?” Mardena asked. “I’m sure she’ll want to come.”
“Of course. Why don’t you all come and share a meal with us.”
“All right. We’ll come tomorrow morning,” Mardena said.
Ayla watched the boy and his mother walk away together. Before she turned to join the women and Wolf, she saw Lanidar look back at her with an absolutely grateful smile.
“Here’s your bird,” Folara said as she approached, holding out the willow grouse with the small spear still sticking out of it. “What are you going to do with it?”
“Well, since I just invited some people to share a meal tomorrow morning, I think I will end up cooking it for them,” Ayla said.
“Whom did you invite?” Marthona asked.
“That woman I was talking to,” Ayla said.
“Mardena?” Folara said with surprise.
“And her son, and her mother.”
“No one invites them, except to community feasts, of course,” Folara said.
“Why not?” Ayla asked.
“Now that I think about it, I’m not really sure,” Folara said. “Mardena keeps to herself. I think she blames herself, or thinks people blame her, for the boy’s arm.”
“Some people do,” Marthona said, “and the boy may have trouble finding a mate. Mothers will be afraid that hell bring crippling spirits with him to a mating.”
“And she always drags her boy around wherever she goes,” Folara said. “I think she’s afraid the other boys will pick on him if she lets him go anywhere alone. They probably would. I don’t think he has any friends. She doesn’t give him any opportunities.”
“I wondered about that,” Ayla said. “She seemed very protective of him. Too much, I think. She thinks his crippled arm limits his abilities, but I think his biggest limitation is not his arm, it’s his mother. She’s afraid to let him try, but he has to grow up sometime.”
“Why did you pick him to throw a spear, Ayla? It seemed like you knew him,” Marthona asked.
“Someone told him there were horses where we’re camped—the Upper Meadow, he called it—and he came to see them. I happened to be there when he came. I think he was trying to get away from the crowd, or his mother, but whoever told him didn’t say anything about us camping there. I know Jondalar and Joharran have been passing the word for people to stay away from the horses. Maybe the ‘someone’ who told Lanidar about them thought he would get in trouble if he came looking for them. But I don’t mind if people want to look, I just don’t want anybody thinking about hunting them. They’re too used to people. They wouldn’t know to run away,” Ayla explained.
“So of course, you let Lanidar touch the horses, and he got all excited, just like everyone does,” Folara said, grinning.
Ayla smiled back. “Well, maybe not everyone, but I think if people have a chance to get to know them, they’ll know they are special and won’t be tempted to hunt them.”
“You are probably right,” Marthona said.
“The horses seemed to take to him, and he learned my whistle for them right away, so I asked Lanidar if he would check on the horses when I’m not around. I didn’t think that his mother might object,” Ayla said.
“Not many mothers would object to letting a son who will soon be able to count twelve years learn more about horses, or any animal,” Marthona said.
“That many years? I would have thought he was a nine-or maybe a ten-year. He talked about Jondalar’s spear-throwing demonstration, but he said he didn’t want to go because he couldn’t throw a spear. He seemed to think it was beyond him, but there is nothing wrong with his left arm, and I had my spear-thrower with me, so I showed him how to use it. After talking to Mardena, I know where he got the idea, but at his years he should be learning some skills besides picking berries with his mother.” Ayla looked at both women. “There are so many people here, you can’t know all of them. How do you know Lanidar and his mother?”
“Any time a baby is born with something wrong with him like that, everybody hears about it,” Marthona said, “and they talk about it. Not necessarily in a bad way. They just wonder why it happened, and hope nothing like that ever happens to any of their children. So, of course, everyone knew when the man of his hearth left. Most people think it was because he was embarrassed to call Lanidar the son of his hearth, but I think at least part of it was Mardena. She didn’t want anybody to see the baby, not even her mate. She tried to hide him, and kept his arm covered, and got very protective of him.”
“That’s his problem, she still is. When I told her that I asked him to check on the horses when I’m not there, Mardena didn’t want to let him. I wasn’t asking for something he couldn’t do. I just want someone to make sure they are all right, and to come and get me if there is a problem,” Ayla said. “That’s why she’s coming over tomorrow, so I can try to persuade her that the horses won’t hurt him. And I’ve promised to teach him to hunt, or at least to throw a spear. I’m not sure how it all happened, but somehow the more she objected to him even trying to learn, the more determined I became to teach him.”
Both women were smiling and nodding with understanding.
“Will you tell Proleva that we are having visitors in the morning?” Ayla said. “And that I'll cook this grouse?”
“Don’t forget your hare,” Marthona said. “Salova told me you got one this morning. Do you want help with your cooking?”
“Only if you think more people may decide to join us,” Ayla said. “I think I'll dig a ground oven, put some hot rocks in it, and cook the grouse and the hare at the same time, overnight. Maybe add some herbs and vegetables, too.”
“A morning feast coming out of a ground oven—food is always so tender when it’s cooked that way,” Folara said. “I can hardly wait.”
“Folara, I think we’d better plan to help,” Marthona said. “If Ayla is going to cook, I think everyone will be curious and want a taste. Oh, I nearly forgot. I was told to tell you, Ayla, there will be a gathering tomorrow in the afternoon of all the women who are to be mated, and their mothers, in the zelandonia lodge.”
“I have no mother to bring,” Ayla said, frowning. She didn’t want to be the only one there without a mother, if one was expected.
“Generally it is not the place of the man’s mother to go, but since the woman you were born to can’t be here, if you want, I would be willing to go in her place,” Jondalar’s mother said.
“Would you really?” Ayla said, feeling overwhelmed by the offer. “I would be very grateful.”
A meeting of the women who will be mating soon, Ayla thought. Soon I will be Jondalar’s mate. How I wish Iza could be here. She’s the mother who should be with me, not the woman I was born to. Since they are both walking in the next world, I am grateful that Marthona is willing to come, but Iza would have been so pleased. She was afraid I would never find a mate, and I might not have if I had stayed with the Clan. She was right to
tell me to leave and find my own people, find my own mate, but I miss her, and Creb, and Durc. I need to stop thinking about them.
“If you are going back to camp, will you take the grouse with you?” Ayla asked. “Right now I’m going to look for something else to cook with the morning meal.”
Behind and toward the right of the main Summer Meeting camp, the limestone hills formed the general shape of a large scooped-out shallow bowl curving around on the sides, but open in front. The base of the curved slopes converged to a small, relatively level field, which had been evened out with stones and packed earth over the many years the location had been used for meetings. The grass-covered hillsides within the partial bowl depression rose up in a gradual, irregular slope with dips and hills, less steep areas that had been made more level to provide places for family groups or even some entire Caves to sit together with a good view of the open space below. The sloped area was sufficiently large to hold the entire Summer Meeting camp of more than two thousand people.
In a wooded copse near the rugged crest of the slope, a spring rose that filled a small pool, then spilled down the middle of the bowl-shaped slope, through the flattened area at the bottom, and eventually into the larger stream of the camp. The spring-fed creek was so small that people stepped over it easily, but the clear, cold pool at the top provided a constant source of clean drinking water.
Ayla walked uphill toward the trees, along a path beside the shallow creek that painted a sheen of water over a bed of cobbled stones. She stopped to get a drink at the spring, then turned around. Her eyes were drawn by the glimmering creek trickling downhill. She observed it run into the stream, which flowed through the large crowded camp and on to The River and the valley beyond. It was a landscape contoured by the deep relief of high hills, limestone cliffs, and river-cut valleys.
Her attention was caught by the sound that funneled up the rounded incline from the camp. It was a sound unlike anything she had ever heard: the combined voices of a large camp full of people, talking, channeled into one sound. The merging of the babble of voices was like a muted roar punctuated by occasional outcries, calls, and whoops. It was not the same, but it reminded her of a large hive of bees or a bawling herd of aurochs in the distance, and she was rather glad to be alone for the moment.
