by Jean M. Auel
“If you expect this part to be home to Ayla’s horses for very long, then we better finish it while we have the chance,” Nezzie interjected. She and Deegie set down the large, heavy skin of water they had hauled up from the partially frozen river.
Ranec arrived then, carrying digging tools and dragging a large basket full of compact wet soil. “I’ve never heard of anyone making a lodge, or even part of one, this late in the season,” he said.
Barzec was right behind him. “It will be an interesting test,” he said, setting down a second basket of slick mud, which they had dug from a particular place along the riverbank. Danug and Druwez appeared then, each carrying additional baskets of the wet mud.
“Tronie has a fire started,” Tulie said, picking up the heavy-skin of water brought up by Nezzie and Deegie, by herself. “Tornec and some others are piling up snow to melt, once we get this water heating.”
“I like to help,” Ayla said, wondering how much help she would be. Everyone seemed to know exactly what to do, but she didn’t have any idea what was going on, much less what she could do to help.
“Yes, can we help?” Jondalar added.
“Of course, it’s for the horse,” Deegie commented, “but let me get you something old of mine to wear, Ayla. It’s a messy job. Does Talut or Danug have something for Jondalar?”
“I’ll find something for him,” Nezzie said.
“If you are still so eager after we are through, you can come and help put up the new lodge Tarneg and I will be making to start our Camp … after I join with Branag,” Deegie added, smiling.
“Has anyone started fires in the sweatbaths?” Talut asked. “Everyone will want to clean up after this, especially if we’re going to have a celebration tonight.”
“Wymez and Frebec started them early this morning. They are getting more water now,” Nezzie said. “Crozie and Manuv have gone off with Latie and the young ones to get fresh pine boughs to make the baths smell nice. Fralie wanted to go, too, but I didn’t like the idea of her climbing up and down hills, so I asked her if she would watch Rydag. She’s watching Hartal, too. Mamut is busy doing something for the ceremony tonight, too. I have a feeling he’s planning some kind of a surprise.”
“Oh … Mamut asked me, when I was coming out, to tell you that the signs are good for a hunt in a few days, Talut. He wants to know if you want him to Search,” Barzec said.
“The signs are good for a hunt,” the big headman said. “Look at this snow! Soft underneath, melting on top. If we get a good freeze, it will have a crust of ice, and animals always get stuck when the snow is in that condition. Yes, I think it would be a good idea.”
Everyone had been walking toward the fireplace, where a large hide, filled with the icy water from the river, had been propped over a frame directly over the flames. The river water was only to start the process of melting the snow that was dumped in. As it melted, baskets of water were dipped out and poured into another large, stained, and dirty hide that lined a depression in the ground. The special soil, taken from a bank near the river, was added and mixed with the water to form a thick slurry of gummy, slick clay.
Several people climbed on top of the new sod-covered annex with waterproof baskets of the fine, smooth, runny mud, and, with scoops, began pouring it down the sides. Ayla and Jondalar watched, and soon joined them. Others at the bottom spread it around to make sure that the entire surface had a thick coat.
The tough, sticky clay, washed and sorted into fine particles by the river, would absorb no water. It was impervious to water. Rain, sleet, melting snow, nothing could penetrate. Even when wet, it was waterproof. As it dried, and with long use, the surface became quite hard, and was often used as a handy place to store objects and implements. When the weather was pleasant, it was a place to lounge, to visit, to expound in loud discussion, or to sit quietly and meditate. Children climbed up when visitors came, to watch without being in the way, and everyone used the perch when an audience was needed or there was something to see.
More clay was mixed and Ayla carried a heavy basket up, slopping it over the edge, and spilling it on herself. It didn’t matter. She was already covered with mud, just as everyone else was. Deegie was right. It was a messy job. As they finished the sides, they moved away from the edge and began coating the top, but as the surface of the dome became covered with wet slippery mud, footing became treacherous.
Ayla poured out the last of the mud from her basket, and watched it oozing slowly down. She turned to go, not watching carefully where she was stepping. Before she knew it, her feet slipped out from under her. She fell with a plop into the fresh, soft clay she had just poured, and went slipping and sliding over the rounded edge of the roof and down the side of the horse annex, letting out an involuntary scream.
The next instant she found herself caught by strong arms just as she reached the ground, and startled, looked at the mud-spattered, laughing face of Ranec.
“That’s one way to spread it down the side,” he said, steadying her, while she regained her composure. Then, still holding her, he added, “If you want to do it again, I’ll wait here for you.”
She felt warmth where he touched the cool skin of her arm, and she was entirely aware of his body pressing against her. His dark eyes, glistening and deep, were filled with a yearning that stirred an unbidden response from the core of her womanness. She trembled slightly, and felt her face flush before she looked down, and then moved away from his touch.
Ayla glanced at Jondalar, confirming what she expected to see. He was angry. His fists were clenched and his temples throbbed. She looked away quickly. She understood his anger a little more now, realizing it was an expression of his fear—fear of loss, fear of rejection—but she felt a touch of irritation at his reaction, nonetheless. She couldn’t help it that she slipped, and she was grateful that Ranec happened to be there to catch her. She flushed again, recalling her response to his lingering touch. She couldn’t help that either.
“Come on, Ayla,” Deegie said. “Talut says it’s enough and the sweatbaths are hot. Let’s go clean this mud off and get ready for the celebration. It’s for you.”
The two young women walked into the earthlodge through the new annex. As they reached the Mammoth Hearth, Ayla suddenly turned to the other young woman. “Deegie, what is sweatbath?”
“Haven’t you ever taken a sweatbath?”
“No.” Ayla shook her head.
“Oh, you’ll love it! You might as well take those muddy clothes off at the Aurochs Hearth. The women usually use the back sweatbath. The men like this one.” As she spoke, Deegie indicated an archway just beyond Manuy’s bed as they passed through the Reindeer Hearth and into the Crane Hearth.
“Is not for storage?”
“Did you think all the side rooms were for storage? I suppose you wouldn’t know, would you? You feel so much a part of us already, it’s hard to remember that you really haven’t been here that long.” She stopped then, and turned to look at Ayla. “I’m glad you will be one of us, I think you were meant to be.”
Ayla smiled shyly. “I am glad, too, and I am glad you are here, Deegie. Is nice to know woman … young … like me.”
Deegie smiled back. “I know. I just wish you had come sooner. I am going to be leaving after the summer. I almost hate to go. I want to be headwoman of my own Camp, like my mother, but I’m going to miss her, and you, and everyone.”
“How far away you go?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t decided yet,” Deegie said.
“Why go far? Why not build new lodge nearby?” Ayla asked.
“I don’t know. Most people don’t, but I guess I could. I didn’t think of that,” Deegie said, with a look of quizzical surprise. Then, as they reached the last hearth in the earthlodge, she added, “Take off those dirty things and just leave them in a pile there.”
Both Deegie and Ayla peeled off their muddy garments. Ayla could feel the warmth radiating from behind a drape of red leather suspended from a
rather low mammoth tusk archway in the farthest back wall of the structure. Deegie ducked down and went in first. Ayla followed, but stopped a moment before entering with the drape held aside, trying to see in.
“Hurry in and close it! You’re letting the heat out!” a voice called from the steamy, dimly lit, somewhat smoky interior.
She quickly scuttled in, letting the drape fall in place behind her, but, rather than cold, she felt the heat assault her. Deegie led her down a rough stairway made of mammoth bones placed up against the dirt wall of a pit that was about three feet deep. Ayla stood at the bottom on a floor that was covered with a soft, deep-piled fur of some kind waiting for her eyes to adjust, then looked around. The space that had been excavated was about six feet wide and ten feet long. It consisted of two circular sections joined together, each with a low domed ceiling—from where she stood, only three or four inches above her head.
Hot bone coals scattered across the floor of the larger section glowed brightly. The two young women walked through the smaller section to join the others, and Ayla saw that the walls were covered with skins, and the floor of the larger space was covered with mammoth bones spaced carefully apart. It gave them a place to walk above the bits of burning coals. Later, when they poured water on the floor to make steam, or to wash, it would drain into the dirt below the bones, which would keep feet above the mud.
More coals were piled up in the fireplace at the center. They furnished both heat and the only source of light, except for a faint outline of daylight around the covered smoke hole. Naked women sat around the fireplace on makeshift benches made of flat bones stretched across other mammoth bone supports. Containers of water were lined up along one wall. Large, sturdy, tightly woven baskets held cold water, while steam issued from the stomachs of large animals supported by-frames of antlers. Someone picked a red-hot stone out of the fireplace with two flat bones and dropped it into one of the water-filled stomachs. A cloud of pine-scented steam rose and enveloped the room.
“Here, you can sit between Tulie and me,” Nezzie said, moving her ample body over one way, making room. Tulie moved the other way. She was a big woman, too, but most of her size was sheer muscular mass, though her full female shape left no doubt about her gender.
“I want to wash some of the mud off first,” Deegie said. “Probably Ayla will, too. Did you see her slide down the side?”
“No. Did you hurt yourself, Ayla?” Fralie asked, looking concerned, and slightly uncomfortable with her advancing pregnancy.
Deegie laughed before Ayla could answer. “Ranec caught her, and didn’t look at all unhappy about it, either.” There were smiles and nods.
Deegie picked up a mammoth skull basin, dipped both hot and cold water into it, accidentally picking up a twig of pine from the hot water, and from a dark mound of some soft substance, pulled off a handful for Ayla and one for herself.
“What is this?” Ayla asked, feeling the luxuriously soft and silky texture of the material.
“Mammoth wool,” Deegie said. “The undercoat they grow in winter. They shed it in big bunches every spring, right through the long outer hair. It gets caught on bushes and trees. Sometimes you can pick it up off the ground. Dip it in the water and use it to wash off the mud.”
“Hair muddy, too,” Ayla said, “should wash.”
“We’ll wash up good later, after we sweat awhile.”
They rinsed off to billows of steam, then Ayla sat down between Deegie and Nezzie. Deegie leaned back and closed her eyes, sighing contentedly, but Ayla, wondering why they were all sitting together sweating, observed everyone in the room. Latie, sitting on the other side of Tulie, smiled at her. She smiled back.
There was a movement at the entrance. Ayla felt a cool breeze and realized how hot she was. Everyone looked to see who was coming. Rugie and Tusie clambered down, followed by Tronie holding Nuvie.
“I had to nurse Hartal,” Tronie announced. “Tornee wanted to take him for a sweatbath, and I didn’t want him fussing.”
Were men not allowed here, not even male babies? Ayla wondered.
“Are all the men in the sweatbath, Tronie? Maybe I should get Rydag,” Nezzie said.
“Danug took him in. I think the men decided they wanted all the males this time,” Tronie said. “Even the children.”
“Frebec took Tasher and Crisavec,” Tusie mentioned.
“It’s about time he started taking more interest in those boys,” Crozie grumbled. “Isn’t that the only reason you joined with him, Fralie?
“No, Mother. That’s not the only reason.”
Ayla was surprised. She’d never heard Fralie disagree with her mother before, even mildly. No one else seemed to notice. Maybe in here, with only the women, Fralie didn’t have to worry about seeming to take sides. Crozie was sitting back with her eyes closed; it was amazing how much her daughter resembled her. In fact, she resembled her too much. Except for a stomach big with pregnancy, Fralie was so thin she looked almost as old as her mother, Ayla noticed. Her ankles were swollen. That was not a good sign. She wished she could examine her, then realized she might be able to, in here.
“Fralie, ankles swell much?” Ayla asked, somewhat hesitantly. Everyone sat up, waiting for Fralie’s reply, as though they all suddenly realized what had just occurred to Ayla. Even Crozie watched her daughter without saying a word.
Fralie looked down at her feet, seeming to examine her swollen ankles, considering. Then she looked up. “Yes. They’ve been swollen lately,” she said.
Nezzie breathed an audible sigh of relief, which everyone else felt.
“Still sick in morning?” Ayla asked, leaning forward.
“I wasn’t sick this long with the first two.”
“Fralie, will let me … look at you?”
Fralie looked around at the women. No one said a word. Nezzie smiled, and nodded at her, silently urging her to agree.
“All right,” Fralie said.
Ayla quickly got up, looked at her eyes, smelled her breath, felt her forehead. It was too dark to see much, and it was too hot in the sweatbath to judge fever. “Will lie down?” Ayla asked.
Everyone moved out of the way to make a place for Fralie to stretch out. Ayla felt, and listened, and examined with thoroughness and obvious knowledge, while everyone else watched with curiosity.
“Sick more than morning, I think,” Ayla said, when she was through. “I fix something, help make food not come up. Help feel better. Help swelling. Will take?”
“I don’t know,” Fralie said. “Frebec watches everything I eat. I think he’s worried about me, but he won’t admit to it. He’ll ask where it came from.”
Crozie was sitting, tight-lipped, obviously biting back words she wanted to say, fearing if she said them, Fralie might take Frebec’s side and refuse Ayla’s help. Nezzie and Tulie exchanged glances. It wasn’t like Crozie to exercise so much self-restraint.
Ayla nodded. “I think I know way,” she said.
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m ready to clean up and go out,” Deegie said. “How would a quick plunge in the snow feel right now, Ayla?”
“I think good. I am hot.”
17
Jondalar opened the drape that hung closed in front of the bed platform he shared with Ayla, and smiled. She was sitting crosslegged in the middle, naked, her skin pink and glowing, brushing her wet hair.
“I feel so good,” she said, smiling back. “Deegie said I would love it. Did you like the sweatbath?”
He climbed in beside her, letting the drape fall. His skin was pink and glowing, too, but he had finished dressing and had just combed his hair and tied it in a club at the back of his neck. The sweatbath had felt so refreshing he had even considered shaving, but just trimmed his beard instead.
“I always enjoy them,” he said. Then he couldn’t resist. He took her in his arms, kissed her, and began caressing her warm body. She responded willingly, giving herself up to his embrace, and he heard a soft moan when he bent to
take a nipple in his mouth.
“Great Mother, woman, you are tempting,” he said as he pulled back. “But what will people say when they start arriving at the Mammoth Hearth for your adoption, and find us sharing Pleasures instead of being dressed and ready?”
“We could tell them to come back later,” she answered with a smile.
Jondalar laughed out loud. “I believe you would, wouldn’t you?”
“Well, you gave me your signal, didn’t you?” she said with a mischievous grin.
“My signal?”
“You remember. The signal a man gives a woman when he wants her? You said I’d always know, then you kissed me and touched me like that. Well, you just gave me your signal, and when a man gives her the signal, a woman of the Clan never refuses.”
“Is it really true she never refuses?” he asked, still not quite able to believe it.
“That’s what she is taught, Jondalar. That’s how a proper woman of the Clan behaves,” she answered, with a perfectly matter-of-fact seriousness.
“Hmmm, you mean the choice is mine? If I said let’s stay here and share Pleasures, you’d make everyone wait?” He was trying to be serious, but his eyes twinkled with delight at what he considered their private joke.
“Only if you give me the signal,” she replied, in the same vein.
He took her in his arms and kissed her again, and feeling her warm skin and warmer response, he was almost tempted to find out if she was joking or if she really meant it but, reluctantly, he let her go.
“It’s not what I’d rather do, but I think I’d better let you get dressed. People will be here before long. What are you going to wear?”
“I don’t really have anything, except some Clan wraps, and the outfit I’ve been wearing, and an extra pair of leggings. I wish I did. Deegie showed me what she’s going to wear. It’s so beautiful—I’ve never seen anything like it. She gave me one of her brushes, after I started to brush my hair with teasel,” Ayla said, showing Jondalar the stiff mammoth-hair brush, tightly wrapped around one end with rawhide to form the handle, giving it the shape of a wide, tapering paint brush. “She gave me some strings of beads and shells, too. I think I’ll wear them in my hair, like she does.”