The Earth's Children Series 6-Book Bundle

by Jean M. Auel

  “… I just couldn’t believe she was a woman of the Clan, and then, when I saw her baby … But the way she walked right up to Ursus, just like she belonged to the host clan, not afraid of him or anything. I couldn’t have done it.”

  “I talked to her for a while, she’s really nice, and she acts perfectly normal. I can’t help but wonder, though, do you think she’ll ever find a mate? She’s so tall, what man wants a woman taller than he is? Even if she is a first-ranked medicine woman.”

  “Someone told me one clan is considering her, but there just wasn’t time to work out the details, and I think they want to talk about it. They said they’d send a runner if they decide to accept her.”

  “But don’t they have a new cave? They say she found it, and that it’s very big, and lucky, too.”

  “It’s supposed to be near the sea, and the paths are well used. I think a good runner could find them.”

  Broud passed the two women and had to restrain an urge to cuff the lazy, gossiping busybodies. But they weren’t of his clan, and though it was his prerogative to discipline any woman, it wasn’t good policy to cuff one from another clan without permission of mates or leaders, unless the infractions were obvious. It was obvious enough to him, but it might not be to someone else.

  “Our medicine woman says she’s skilled,” Norg was saying as Broud entered the cave.

  “She is Iza’s daughter,” Brun motioned, “and Iza has trained her well.”

  “It’s a shame Iza couldn’t make it. She is ill, I understand.”

  “Yes, that’s one reason I want to hurry. We have a long way to go. Your hospitality has been excellent, Norg, but one’s own cave is home. This has been one of the best Clan Gatherings. It will be long remembered,” Brun said.

  Broud turned his back, clenching his fists, before he could see the compliment Norg paid to the son of Brun’s mate. Ayla, Ayla, Ayla. Everybody is talking about Ayla. You’d think no one did anything at this Clan Gathering except her. Was she first chosen? Who was on the bear’s head while she was safely on the ground? So what if she saved that hunter’s life, he’ll probably never walk again. She’s ugly, and she’s too tall, and her son is deformed, and they should know how insolent she is at home.

  Just then, Ayla ran past, carrying several bundles. Broud’s look of hate was so full of malice it made her flinch. What did I do now? she thought. I’ve hardly seen Broud the whole time we’ve been here.

  Broud was a full-grown, powerfully built man of the Clan, but the threat he posed was far greater than mere physical harm. He was the son of the leader’s mate, and destined to be leader himself one day. He thought about that as he watched Ayla put her bundles down outside the cave.

  After they ate, the women quickly packed the few utensils they had used to make the morning meal. Brun was impatient to leave, and so were they. Ayla had a few last gestures with some of the medicine women, Norg’s mate, and a few others, then wrapped her son in his carrying cloak and took her place in front of the women of Brun’s clan. Brun gave a signal, and they started across the cleared area in front of the cave. Before rounding the bend in the trail, Brun stopped, and they all turned to look back one last time. Norg and his whole clan were standing at the mouth of their cave.

  “Walk with Ursus,” Norg signaled.

  Brun nodded and started out again. It would be seven years before they saw Norg again—or perhaps never. Only the Spirit of the Great Cave Bear knew.

  Just as Brun had thought, the return trip was difficult for Creb. No longer buoyed by anticipation, and further depressed by brooding over the knowledge he kept secret, the old man’s body betrayed him time and time again. Brun’s concern deepened; he had never known the great magician to be so dispirited. He lagged behind. Many times Brun had to send a hunter back to find him while they waited. The leader slowed the pace, hoping it would make it easier for him, but Creb just didn’t seem to care. The few evening ceremonies, held at Brun’s insistence, lacked force. Mog-ur seemed reluctant, his gestures stiff, as though his heart wasn’t in it. Brun noticed that Creb and Ayla kept their distance, and though she had no trouble keeping up, Ayla’s step had lost its spring. There’s something wrong between those two, he thought.

  They had been traveling through tall, sere grass since midmorning. Brun glanced back; Creb was nowhere in sight. He started to signal one of the men, then changed his mind and walked back to Ayla instead.

  “Go back and find Mog-ur,” he motioned.

  She looked surprised, then nodded. Giving Durc to Uba, she hurried back along the trail of bent, stepped-on grass. She found him quite a distance behind, walking slowly and leaning heavily on his staff. He seemed to be in pain. Ayla had been so stunned by his response to her loving remorse she hadn’t known what to say to him afterward. She was sure he was suffering from his aching, arthritic joints, but he had refused to let her give him anything for the pain. After the first few rebuffs, she didn’t offer again, though her heart ached for him. He stopped when he saw her.

  “What are you doing here?” he gestured.

  “Brun sent me back for you.”

  Creb grunted and started walking again. Ayla fell in behind him. She watched his slow, painful movements until she couldn’t stand it anymore. She went around him and dropped to the ground at his feet, forcing him to stop. Creb looked down at the young woman for a long time before he tapped her shoulder.

  “This woman would know why The Mog-ur is angry.”

  “I’m not angry, Ayla.”

  “Then why won’t you let me help you?” she pleaded. “You never refused before.” Ayla struggled to compose herself. “This woman is a medicine woman. She is trained to help those in pain. It is her place, her function. It hurts this woman to see The Mog-ur suffer, she cannot help it.” Ayla couldn’t maintain the formal posture. “Oh, Creb, let me help you. Don’t you know I love you? To me, you are like the mate of my mother. You have provided for me, spoken for me, I owe my life to you. I don’t know why you stopped loving me, but I haven’t stopped loving you.” Tears streamed down her face in hopeless desperation.

  Why does water always come to her eyes when she thinks I don’t love her? And why should her weak eyes always make me want to do something for her? Do all the Others have that problem? She is right, I never minded her help before, why should it matter now? She is not a woman of the Clan. No matter what the rest think, she was born to the Others and she will always be one of them. She doesn’t even know it. She thinks she’s a Clan woman, she thinks she’s a medicine woman. She is a medicine woman. She may not be of Iza’s line, but she is a medicine woman, and she has tried to become a Clan woman, as hard as it was for her sometimes. I wonder, how hard is it for her? This is not the first time water has come to her eyes, but how many times has she fought to hold it back? It’s when she thinks I don’t love her that she can’t hold it. Can it hurt her so much? How much would it hurt me if I thought she didn’t love me? More than I’d like to think. If she loves the same, can she be so different? Creb tried to see her as a stranger, as a woman of the Others. But she was still Ayla, still the child of the mate he never had.

  “We’d better hurry, Ayla. Brun is waiting. Wipe your eyes, and when we stop, you can make me some willow-bark tea, medicine woman.”

  A smile broke through her tears. She scrambled up and fell in behind him again. After a few paces, she moved up to his weak side. He halted a moment, then nodded and leaned on her for support.

  Brun noticed an improvement immediately and soon picked up the pace again, though they still weren’t traveling as fast as he would have liked. There was an air of melancholy about the old man, but he seemed to be trying harder. I knew there was a problem with those two, Brun thought, but they seem to have worked it out. He was glad he had the idea to send her back for him.

  Creb did let Ayla help him, but there was still a distance between them, a breach too great for him to span. He couldn’t forget the difference in their destinies and it created a strain th
at dampened the easy warmth of earlier days.

  Though the days were hot as Brun’s clan trekked back to their cave, the nights were growing cool. The first sight of snowcapped mountains far to the west heartened the clan, but as the distance hardly diminished with the passing days, the range at the southern tip of the peninsula became just a part of the scenery. The distance did diminish, though, however imperceptibly. As they continued day after weary day in their westward direction, the blue depths of crevasses gave character to the glaciers and the indistinct purple below the icy crown took on shapes of outcrops and ridges.

  They pushed on until dark before they made camp the last night on the steppes, and everyone was awake at first light. The plains merged into a parkland of open meadow and tall trees, and the sight of a grass-eating, temperate-climate rhinoceros brought a feeling of familiarity, after it went on its way without deigning to notice them. The pace quickened when they came to a path that wound up the foothills. Then they rounded a familiar ridge and saw their cave, and every heart beat faster. They were home.

  Aba and Zoug were rushing to meet them. Aba welcomed her daughter and Droog joyously, hugged the older children, then took Groob in her arms. Zoug nodded at Ayla as he ran toward Grod and Uka, then Ovra and Goov.

  “Where is Dorv?” Ika motioned.

  “He walks in the world of the spirits now,” Zoug replied. “His eyes got so bad, he couldn’t see what anyone was saying. I think he gave up and didn’t want to wait for your return. When the spirits called, he left with them. We buried him and marked the place so Mog-ur could find it for the death rites.”

  Ayla looked around, suddenly anxious. “Where’s Iza?”

  “She is very ill, Ayla,” Aba said. “She hasn’t been out of her bed since the last new moon.”

  “Iza! Not Iza! No! No!” Ayla cried, running toward the cave. She threw her bundles down when she reached Creb’s hearth and rushed toward the woman lying on her furs.

  “Iza! Iza!” the young woman cried. The old medicine woman opened her eyes.

  “Ayla,” she said, her gruff voice barely audible. “The spirits have granted my wish,” she motioned feebly. “You’re back.” Iza held out her arms. Ayla embraced her and felt her thin, frail body, hardly more than bones covered with wrinkled skin. Her hair was snow white; her face, dried parchment stretched over bones with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. She looked a thousand years old. She was just past twenty-six.

  Ayla could hardly see for the tears that streamed down her face. “Why did I go to the Clan Gathering? I should have stayed here and taken care of you. I knew you were sick; why did I go away and leave you?”

  “No, no, Ayla,” Iza motioned. “Don’t blame yourself. You can’t change what is meant to be. I knew I was dying when you left. You couldn’t have helped me, no one could. I just wanted to see you one more time before I went to join the spirits.”

  “You can’t die! I won’t let you die! I’ll take care of you. I’ll make you get well,” Ayla gestured wildly.

  “Ayla, Ayla. There are some things even the best medicine woman cannot do.”

  The exertion brought on a coughing spell. Ayla held her propped up until the cough quieted. She shoved her fur behind the woman to raise her up and make her breathing easier, then began rummaging through the medicines stored near Iza’s bed.

  “Where’s the elecampane? I can’t find any elecampane.”

  “I don’t think there’s any left,” Iza motioned weakly. The fit of coughing had exhausted her. “I used a lot of it and couldn’t go out to get more. Aba tried to find some, but she brought back sunflowers.”

  “I shouldn’t have gone,” Ayla said, then raced out of the cave. She met Uba, carrying Durc, and Creb at the entrance.

  “Iza’s sick,” Ayla waved frantically, “and she doesn’t even have any elecampane. I’m going to get some. There’s no fire at the hearth, Uba. Why did I go to the Clan Gathering? I should have stayed here with her. Why did I leave?” Ayla’s bleak face, grimy with travel, was streaked with tears, but she neither noticed nor cared. She ran down the slope as Creb and Uba hurried into the cave.

  Ayla splashed across the stream, raced to the meadow where the plants grew, and dug up the roots with her bare hands, tearing them out of the ground. Stopping at the stream just long enough to wash them, she sped back to the cave.

  Uba had a fire going, but the water she had started heating was just barely warm. Creb was standing over Iza making formal motions with more fervor than he had felt for many days, calling on every spirit he knew to strengthen her life essence, and pleading with them not to take her, yet. Uba had put Durc on a mat. He was just starting to crawl and pulled himself up on his hands and knees. He scooted toward his mother busy cutting up the root into small pieces, but she pushed him away when he tried to nurse. Ayla had no time for her son. He started to howl while she dumped the root into the water and added more rocks, impatient for it to boil.

  “Let me see Durc,” Iza motioned. “He’s grown so much.”

  Uba picked him up and brought him to her mother. She put the baby on Iza’s lap, but he was in no mood to cuddle with an old woman he didn’t remember, and struggled to get down again.

  “He’s strong and healthy,” Iza said, “and he doesn’t have any problems holding his head up.”

  “He even has a mate already,” Uba said, “or at least a baby girl that has been promised for him.”

  “A mate? What clan would promise a girl to him? So young, and with his deformity.”

  “There was a woman at the Clan Gathering with a deformed daughter. She came and talked to us the first day,” Uba explained. “The baby even looks like Durc, at least her head does. Her features are a little different. The mother asked if they could be mated; Oda was so worried that her daughter would never find a mate. Brun and the leader of her clan arranged it. I think she will be coming here to live after the next Gathering, even if she’s not a woman. Ebra said she could live with her until they were both old enough to mate. Oda was so happy, especially after Ayla made the drink for the ceremony.”

  “So they did accept Ayla as a medicine woman of my line. I wondered if they would,” Iza gestured, then she stopped. Talking made her tired, but just seeing her loved ones around her again rejuvenated her spirit, if not her body. She rested for a while, then asked, “What is the girl’s name?”

  “Ura,” Iza’s daughter answered.

  “I like the name, it has a good sound.” Iza rested again, then asked another question. “What about Ayla? Did she find a mate at the Clan Gathering?”

  “The clan of Zoug’s kin is considering her. They refused at first, but after she was accepted as a medicine woman, they decided to think it over. There wasn’t time to settle anything before we left. They might take Ayla, but I don’t think they want Durc.”

  Iza just nodded, then closed her eyes.

  Ayla was grinding meat to make into a broth for Iza. She kept checking the boiling water with the root for the right color and flavor, impatient for it to be done. Durc crawled up to her, whining, but she brushed him off again.

  “Give him to me, Uba,” Creb motioned. It quieted the boy for a while, sitting in Creb’s lap, intrigued with the man’s beard. But he soon grew tired of that, too. He rubbed his eyes and struggled to get loose of the restraining arm, and when freed crawled straight for his mother again. He was tired, and he was hungry. Ayla was standing over the fire and hardly seemed to notice when the cranky baby tried to pull up on her leg. Creb heaved himself up, then dropped his staff and signaled Uba to put the boy into his arm. Limping heavily without his support, he shuffled to Broud’s hearth and laid Durc in Oga’s lap.

  “Durc is hungry and Ayla is busy making medicine for Iza. Will you feed him, Oga?”

  Oga nodded, took the baby from him, and gave Durc her breast. Broud glowered, but one dark glance from Mog-ur made him cover his anger quickly. His hatred of Ayla did not extend to the man who protected and provided for her. Broud feared Mog-ur
too much to hate him. He had discovered at an early age, however, that the great holy man seldom interfered in the secular life of the clan, confining his activities to the spirit world. Mog-ur had never tried to prevent Broud from exercising control over the young female who shared his hearth, but Broud had no wish to lock horns with the magician directly.

  The man shuffled back to his hearth and began to search through the bundles that had been dumped for the bladder of cave bear grease that was his share of the rendered fat from the ceremonial animal. Uba saw him and hurried over to help. Creb took it with him into his place of the spirits. Though he was sure it was hopeless, he was going to use every bit of magic at his command to help Ayla try to keep Iza alive.

  The roots had finally boiled long enough and Ayla scooped out a cup of the liquid, impatient now for it to cool. The warm broth fed to her earlier, in small sips with Ayla propping her head up just as Iza had done for her when she was a five-year-old and near death, had revived the old medicine woman somewhat. She had eaten little since she had taken to her bed, and not much before. Food brought to her often went untouched. It had been a desolate, lonely summer for Iza. With no one around to watch her and make sure she ate, she often forgot, or just didn’t bother. The other three had all tried to help when they saw she was failing, but they didn’t know how.

  Iza had roused herself when Dorv’s end was near, but the oldest member of the clan went quickly and there was little she could do except try to make him more comfortable. His death had cast a pall on the others. The cave seemed far emptier with him gone and it made them all realize how close they were to the next world. His was the first death since the earthquake.

  Ayla was sitting beside Iza, blowing on the liquid in the bone cup and tasting now and then to see if it was cool enough. Her concentration on Iza was so complete, she didn’t notice Creb leaving with Durc or see him go into his small cave, and she wasn’t aware that Brun was watching her. She heard the soft bubbling sounds of Iza’s breath and knew she was dying, but wouldn’t let herself believe it. She searched her memory for treatments.