The Earth's Children Series 6-Book Bundle

by Jean M. Auel

  Then he spread her twin mounds apart and guided his full and ready manhood into the deep and willing entrance of her womanhood with an agonizing pleasure that tore a cry from both of them. He withdrew, almost fully, and entered again, pulling her to him, and reveled in her deep embrace. Again he withdrew and entered, and again, and again, until finally in a great burst, the glorious release came.

  After a few final strokes that drew out the final measure, and still deep within her warmth, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled them both over on their sides. He held her close, covering her with his body and his parka for a moment while they rested.

  Finally they pulled apart and Jondalar sat up. The wind was picking up, and Jondalar glanced at massing clouds with apprehension.

  “I should clean myself a little,” Ayla said, getting up. “These are new leggings from Deegie.”

  “When we get back, you can leave them outside to freeze, and then brush it off.”

  “The stream still has water …”

  “It’s icy, Ayla!”

  “I know. I’ll be quick.”

  Testing her way on the ice, she squatted near the water, and rinsed herself with her hand. As she stepped back on the bank, Jondalar came up behind her, and dried her with the fur of his parka.

  “I don’t want that to freeze,” he said, with a big grin as he patted her with the fur, and then caressed her.

  “I think you’ll keep it warm enough,” she said with a smile, tying her drawstring and straightening her parka.

  This was the Jondalar she loved. The man who could make her feel warm and qui very inside with a look of his eyes, or a touch of his hands; the man who knew her body better than she did, and could draw out feelings she didn’t know were there; the man who had made her forget the pain of Broud’s first forcible entry, and taught her what Pleasures were and should be. The Jondalar she loved was playful, and caring, and loving. That was how he had been in the valley, and now when they were alone. Why was he so different around the Lion Camp?

  “You are getting very quick with words, woman. I’m going to have trouble keeping up with you, in my own language!” He put his arms around her waist, and looked down at her, his eyes full of love and pride. “You are good with language, Ayla. I can’t believe how fast you learn. How do you do it?”

  “I have to. This is my world now. I have no people. I am dead to the Clan, I can’t go back.”

  “You could have people. You could be Ayla of the Mamutoi. If you want to be. Do you?”

  “I want to be with you.”

  “You can still be with me. Just because someone adopts you doesn’t mean you can’t leave … someday. We could stay here … for a while. And if something happened to me—it could, you know—it might not be so bad to have people. People who want you.”

  “You mean you wouldn’t mind?”

  “Mind? No, I wouldn’t mind, if that’s what you want.”

  Ayla thought she detected a little hesitation, but he did seem sincere. “Jondalar, I am only Ayla. I have no people. If I am adopted, I would have someone. I would be Ayla of the Mamutoi.” She stepped back, away from him. I need to think about it.”

  She turned around and walked toward the pack she had been carrying. If I’m going to leave with Jondalar soon, I shouldn’t agree, she thought. It wouldn’t be fair. But he said he’d be willing to stay. For a while. Maybe, after he lives with the Mamutoi, he’ll change his mind and want to make this his home. She wondered if she was trying to find an excuse.

  She reached inside her parka for her amulet, and sent out a thought to her totem. “Cave Lion, I wish there was some way I could know what is right. I love Jondalar, but I want to belong to people of my own, too. Talut and Nezzie want to adopt me, they want to make me a daughter of the Lion … the Lion Hearth. And the Lion Camp! Oh, Great Cave Lion, have you been guiding me all along, and I just wasn’t paying attention?”

  She spun around. Jondalar was still standing where she left him, silently watching her.

  “I’ve decided. I will do it! I will be Ayla of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi!”

  She noticed a fleeting frown cross his face before he smiled. “Good, Ayla. I’m glad for you.”

  “Oh, Jondalar. Will it be right? Will everything turn out all right?”

  “No one can answer that. Who could know?” he said, coming toward her, one eye on the darkening sky. “I hope it will … for both of us.” They clung to each other for a moment. “I think we should be getting back.”

  Ayla reached for the parfleche to pack it, but something caught her eye. She went down on one knee, and picked up a deep golden stone. Brushing it off, she looked at it closer. Completely encapsulated within the smooth stone, which had begun to feel warm to the touch, was a complete winged insect.

  “Jondalar! Look at this. Have you ever seen anything like it?”

  He took it from her, looked it over closely, then looked at her with a bit of awe. “This is amber. My mother has one like it. She places great value on it. This one may be even better.” He noticed Ayla staring at him. She looked stunned. He didn’t think he’d said anything all that startling. “What is it, Ayla?”

  “A sign. It’s a sign from my totem, Jondalar. The Spirit of the Great Cave Lion is telling me I made the right decision. He wants me to become Ayla of the Mamutoi!”

  The force of the wind intensified as Ayla and Jondalar rode back, and though it was just past noon, the light of the sun was dimmed by clouds of dry loess soil billowing up from the frozen ground. Soon they could hardly see their way through the windblown dust. Flashes of lightning crackled around them in the dry, freezing air, and thunder growled and boomed. Racer reared up in fright as a bolt flashed and a clap of thunder cracked nearby. Whinney nickered anxiously. They dismounted to calm the nervous young horse, and continued on foot leading them both.

  By the time they reached the Camp, winds of gale force were driving a dust storm that blackened the sky and blasted their skin. As they came close to the earthlodge, a figure emerged out of the wind-driven gloom holding onto something which flapped and strained as though it were alive.

  “There you are. I was getting worried,” Talut shouted above the howling and thunder.

  “What are you doing? Can we help?” Jondalar asked.

  “We made a lean-to for Ayla’s horses when it looked like a storm was brewing. I didn’t know it would be a dry storm. The wind blew it apart. I think you’d better bring them in. They can stay in the entrance room,” Talut said.

  “Is it like this often?” Jondalar said, grabbing an end of the large hide that was supposed to have been a windbreak.

  “No. Some years we don’t have dry storms at all. It will settle down once we get a good snow,” Talut said, “then we’ll just have blizzards!” he finished with a laugh. He ducked into the earthlodge, then held back the heavy mammoth hide drape so Ayla and Jondalar could lead the horses inside.

  The horses were nervous about entering the strange place full of so many unfamiliar smells, but they liked the noisy windstorm even less, and they trusted Ayla. The relief was immediate once they were out of the wind, and they settled down quickly. Ayla was grateful to Talut for his concern for them, though a little surprised. As she went through the second archway, Ayla noticed how cold she was. The stinging grains of dust had distracted her, but the subfreezing temperature and strong wind had chilled her to the bone.

  The wind still raged outside the longhouse, rattling the covers over the smoke holes and bellying out the heavy drapes. Sudden drafts sent dust flying and caused the fire in the cooking hearth to flare up. People were gathered in casual groups around the area of the first hearth, finishing up the evening meal, sipping herb tea, talking, waiting for Talut to begin.

  Finally he got up and strode toward the Lion Hearth. When he returned he was carrying an ivory staff, taller than he was, thicker at the bottom, tapering at the top. It was decorated with a small, spoked wheellike object, which had been fastened to the staff
about a third of the way down from the top. White crane feathers were attached to the top half, fanning out in a semicircle, while between the spokes of the bottom half enigmatic pouches, carved ivory, and pieces of fur dangled from thongs. On closer look, Ayla saw that the staff was made from a single, long mammoth tusk which, by some unknown method, had been made straight. How, she wondered, did someone take the curve out of a mammoth tusk?

  Everyone quieted and turned their attention to the headman. He looked at Tulie; she nodded. Then he banged the butt end of the Staff on the ground four times.

  “I have a serious matter to present to the Lion Camp,” Talut began. “Something that is the concern of everyone, therefore I talk with the Speaking Staff so all will listen carefully and no one may interrupt. Anyone who wishes to speak on this matter may request the Speaking Staff.”

  There was a rustle of excitement as people sat up and took notice.

  “Ayla and Jondalar came to the Lion Camp not long ago. When I numbered the days they have been here, I was surprised that it has been such a short time. They already feel like old friends, like they belong. I think most of you feel the same. Because of such warm feelings of friendship for our relative, Jondalar, and his friend, Ayla, I had hoped they would extend their visit and planned to ask them to stay through the winter. But in the short time they have been here, they have shown more than friendship. Both of them have brought valuable skills and knowledge, and offered them to us without reservation, just as though they were one of us.

  “Wymez recommends Jondalar as a skilled worker of flint. He has shared his knowledge freely with both Danug and Wymez. More than that, he has brought with him a new hunting weapon, a spear-thrower that extends both the range and power of a spear.”

  There were nods and comments of approval, and Ayla noticed again that the Mamutoi seldom sat quietly, but spoke out with comments in active participation.

  “Ayla brings many unusual talents,” Talut continued. “She is skilled and accurate with the spear-thrower, and with her own weapon, the sling. Mamut says she is a Searcher, though untrained, and Nezzie thinks she may be a Caller as well. Perhaps not, but it is true that she can make horses obey her, and they allow her to ride on their backs. She has even taught us a way of speaking without words, which has helped us to understand Rydag in a new way. But perhaps most important, she is a Healer. She has already saved the lives of two children … and she has a wonderful remedy for headaches!”

  The last comment brought a wave of laughter.

  “Both of them bring so much, I do not want the Lion Camp or the Mamutoi to lose them. I have asked them to stay with us, not just for the winter, but always. In the name of Mut, Mother of All”—Talut pounded the ground with the Staff once, firmly—“I ask that they join us, and that you accept them as Mamutoi.”

  Talut nodded to Ayla and Jondalar. They stood up and approached him with the formality of a prearranged ceremony. Tulie, who had been waiting off to the side, moved up to stand beside her brother.

  “I ask for the Speaking Staff,” she said.

  Talut passed it to her.

  “As headwoman of the Lion Camp, I state my agreement with Talut’s comments. Jondalar and Ayla would be valuable additions to the Lion Camp, and to the Mamutoi.” She faced the tall blond man. “Jondalar,” she said, stamping the Speaking Staff three times, “Tulie and Barzec have asked you to be a son of the Aurochs Hearth. We have spoken for you. How do you speak, Jondalar?”

  He approached her, and took the Staff she offered and stamped it three times. “I am Jondalar of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, son of Marthona, former leader of the Ninth Cave, born to the hearth of Dalanar, leader of the Lanzadonii,” he began. Since it was a formal occasion he decided to use his more formal address and name his primary ties, which brought smiles and nods of approval. All the foreign names gave the ceremony an exotic and important flavor. “I am greatly honored by your invitation, but I must be fair and tell you I have strong obligations. Someday I must return to the Zelandonii. I must tell my mother of my brother’s death, and I must tell Zelandoni, our Mamut, so a Search for his spirit can be made to guide him to the world of the spirits. I value our kinship, I am so warmed by your friendship, I do not want to leave. I wish to stay with you, my friends and relatives, for as long as I can.” Jondalar passed the Speaking Staff back to Tulie.

  “We are saddened that you cannot join our hearth, Jondalar, but we understand your obligations. You have our respect. Since we are related, through your brother who was a cross-mate of Tholie, you are welcome to remain as long as you wish,” Tulie said, then passed the Staff back to Talut.

  “Ayla,” Talut said, stamping the Staff three times on the ground, “Nezzie and I want to adopt you as a daughter of the Lion Hearth. We have spoken for you. How do you speak?”

  Ayla took the Staff and banged it on the ground three times. “I am Ayla. I have no people. I am honored and pleased to be asked to become one of you. I would feel proud to be Ayla of the Mamutoi,” she said, in a carefully rehearsed speech.

  Talut took the Staff back and stamped it four times. “If there are no objections, I will close this special meeting …”

  “I request the Speaking Staff,” a voice from the audience called out. Everyone looked surprised to see Frebec approaching.

  He took the Staff from the headman, struck the ground three times. “I do not agree. I do not want Ayla,” he said.

  14

  The people of the Lion Camp were stunned into silence. Then there was a hubbub of shocked surprise. The headman had sponsored Ayla, with the headwoman in full accord. Though everyone knew Frebec’s feelings about Ayla, no one else seemed to share them. What’s more, Frebec and the Crane Hearth hardly seemed in a position to object. They had been accepted by the Lion Camp recently themselves, after several other Camps had turned them down, only because Nezzie and Talut had argued in their behalf. The Crane Hearth once had a high status, and there had been people in other Camps who had been willing to sponsor them, but there had always been dissenters, and there could be no dissenters. Everyone had to agree. After all the headman’s support, it seemed ungrateful for Frebec to oppose him, and no one had expected it, least of all Talut.

  The commotion quickly died down when Talut took the Speaking Staff from Frebec, held it up and shook it, invoking its power. “Frebec has the Staff. Let him speak,” Talut said, handing the ivory shaft back.

  Frebec hit the ground three times and continued, “I do not want Ayla because I don’t think she has offered enough to make her a Mamutoi.” There was an undercurrent of objection to his statement, especially after Talut’s words of praise, but not enough to interrupt the speaker. “Do we ask any stranger who stops for a visit to become Mamutoi?”

  Even with the constraint of the Speaking Staff, it was difficult for the Camp to keep from speaking out. “What do you mean she has nothing to offer? What about her hunting skill?” Deegie called out, full of righteous anger. Her mother, the headwoman, had not accepted Ayla on first appearances. Only after careful consideration had she agreed to go along with Talut. How could this Frebec object?

  “So what if she hunts? Is everyone who hunts made one of us?” Frebec said. “That’s not a good reason. She won’t be hunting much longer anyway, not after she has children.”

  “Having children is more important! That will give her more status,” Deegie flared.

  “Don’t you think I know that? We don’t even know if she can have children, and if she doesn’t have children, she won’t be of much value at all. But we weren’t talking about children, we were talking about hunting. Just because she hunts is not a good enough reason to make her a Mamutoi,” Frebec argued.

  “What about the spear-thrower? You can’t deny it is a weapon of value, and she is good at it and already showing others how to use it,” Tornec said.

  “She did not bring it. Jondalar did, and he is not joining us.”

  Danug spoke out. “She might be a Searcher, or a Caller.
She can make horses obey her, she even rides on one.”

  “Horses are food. The Mother meant for us to hunt them, not live with them. I’m not even sure it’s right to ride them. And no one knows for sure what she might be. She might be a Searcher, she might be a Caller. She might be the Mother on earth, but she might not. Since when is ‘might be’ a reason to make someone one of us?” No one had been able to counter his objections. Frebec was beginning to enjoy himself, and all the attention he was getting.

  Mamut looked at Frebec with some surprise. Though the shaman completely disagreed with him, he had to concede that Frebec’s arguments were clever. It was too bad they were so misdirected.

  “Ayla has taught Rydag to talk, when no one thought he could,” Nezzie shouted, joining in the debate.

  “Talk!” he sneered. “You can call a lot of hand waving ‘talking’ if you want to, but I don’t. I can’t think of anything more useless than making stupid gestures at a flathead. That’s not a reason to accept her. If anything, it’s a reason not to.”

  “And in spite of the obvious, I suppose you still don’t believe she is a Healer?” Ranec commented. “You realize, I hope, that if you drive Ayla out, you may be the one who is sorry if there is no one here to help Fralie when she delivers.”

  Ranec had always been an anomaly to Frebec. In spite of his high status and renown as a carver, Frebec didn’t know what to make of the brown-skinned man, and was not comfortable around him. Frebec always had the feeling Ranec was being disdainful or making fun of him when he used that subtle ironic tone. He didn’t like it, and besides, there was probably something unnatural about such dark skin.

  “You’re right, Ranec,” Frebec said in a loud voice. “I don’t think she’s a Healer. How could anyone growing up with those animals learn to be a Healer? And Fralie has already had babies. Why should this time be any different? Unless having that animal woman here brings her bad luck. That flathead boy already brings down the status of this Camp. Can’t you see? She’ll only bring it down more. Why would anyone want a woman raised by animals? And what would people think if anyone came here and found horses inside a lodge? No, I don’t want an animal woman who lived with flatheads to be one of the Lion Camp.”