by Jean M. Auel
“That was quite a demonstration, Ayla,” Marlie said, noticing the interesting peculiarity of her speech. “Was it the boy or you controlling the wolf?”
“I don’t know,” she said, smiling. “Wolf responds to signals, but we both gave them.”
“Wolf? You say it like a name,” Valez said.
“It is his name.”
“Do the horses have names, too?” Marlie asked.
“The mare is whinny.” Ayla said it like the sound a horse would make, and Whinney nickered back, causing smiles, but nervous ones. “Most people just say her name, Whinney. The stallion is her son. Jondalar named him Racer. It is a word from his language that means one who likes to run fast and beat the others.”
Marlie nodded. Ayla looked hard at the woman for a moment, then turned to Talut. “I am very tired from working to make that place for the horses. Do you see that big log? Would you bring it here so I can sit?”
For a moment the big headman was totally startled. It was so out of character. Ayla simply would not ask such a thing, especially in the middle of a conversation with the headwoman of the host Camp. If anyone needed a place to sit, Marlie did. Then it hit him. Of course! Why hadn’t he thought of it before? He hurried to get the log and manhandled it back himself.
Ayla sat down. “I hope you don’t mind. I really am tired. Won’t you join me, Marlie?”
Marlie sat, shaking a little. After a while, she smiled. “Thank you, Ayla. I hadn’t planned to stay here so long. How did you know I was feeling dizzy?”
“She’s a Healer,” Deegie said.
“A Caller and a Healer? That’s an unusual combination. No wonder the Mammoth Hearth claimed her.”
“There is something I’d like to prepare for you, if you would take it,” Ayla said.
“Healers have seen me, but you are welcome to try, Ayla. Now, before the subject is lost forever, there is a question I want to ask. Were you certain the wolf would not harm that man?”
Ayla paused only a moment. “No. I was not certain. He is still very young, and not always completely reliable. But I thought I was close enough to block his attack if he didn’t stop it short himself.”
Marlie nodded. “People are not always completely reliable; I would not expect animals to be. If you had said otherwise, I would not have believed you. Chaleg will complain, you know, as soon as he recovers, to save face. He will bring it to the Council of Brothers, and they will bring it to us.”
“Us?”
“The Council of Sisters,” Tulie said. “The Sisters are the final authority. They are closer to the Mother.”
“I am glad I was here to see it. Now I don’t have to worry about sorting through conflicting stories that are unbelievable to begin with,” Marlie said. She shifted her gaze and studied the horses and then Wolf. “They seem to be perfectly normal animals, not spirits or other magic things. Tell me, what do the animals eat when they are with you, Ayla? They do eat?”
“The same thing they always eat. Wolf eats mostly meat, either raw or cooked. He’s like another person in the lodge, and usually eats what I eat, even vegetables. Sometimes I hunt for him, but he’s getting good at catching mice and small animals for himself. The horses eat grass and grains. I was thinking of taking them down to that meadow across the river soon and leaving them there for a while.”
Valez looked down across the water, and then at Talut. Ayla could see he was thinking. “I don’t like to say this, Ayla, but it could be dangerous to leave them there alone.”
“Why?” she asked, with an edge of panic to her voice.
“Hunters. They look like any other horses, particularly the mare. The dark color of the young one is unusual enough. We should be able to pass the word not to kill any brown horses, especially if they seem very friendly. But the other one … every other horse on the steppes is that color, and I don’t think we can ask people not to kill horses. It is the favorite meat of some people,” Valez explained.
“Then I’ll have to go with her,” Ayla said.
“You can’t do that!” Deegie cried. “You’ll miss out on everything.”
“I can’t let anything hurt her,” Ayla said. “I’ll just have to miss things.”
“That would be too bad,” Tulie said.
“Can’t you think of something?” Deegie said.
“No … if only she was brown, too,” Ayla said.
“Well, why not make her brown?”
“Make her brown? How?”
“What if we mix some color like I do for leather, and rub it on her.”
Ayla thought for a while. “I don’t think it will work. It’s a good idea, Deegie, but the trouble is, making her brown really won’t make much difference. Even Racer is still in danger. A brown horse still looks like a horse, and if someone is hunting horses, it won’t be easy to remember not to kill brown ones.”
“That’s true,” Talut said. “Hunters think about hunting, and two brown horses that aren’t afraid of people would make very tempting targets.”
“How about a different color like … red. Why not make Whinney a red horse? A bright red horse. Then she’d really stand out.”
Ayla made a face. “I don’t like the thought of making her a red horse, Deegie. She would look so strange. It is a good idea, though. Everyone would know she is not an ordinary horse. I think we should do it, but a bright red horse … Wait! I have another idea.” Ayla rushed into the tent. She dumped her traveling pack out on top of her sleeping furs, and found what she was looking for near the bottom. She ran out with it.
“Look, Deegie! Remember this?” Ayla said, opening out the bright red hide she had dyed herself. “I never could think of anything to make with it. I just liked it for the color. I can tie this on Whinney when she’s out in the meadow alone.”
“That is a bright red!” Valez said, smiling and nodding his head. “I think it will work. With that on, anyone who saw her would know she is a special horse, and would probably hesitate to hunt her, even without being told. We can announce it tonight that the horse with the red cover and the brown one with her are not to be hunted.”
“It might not hurt to tie something on Racer, too,” Talut said. “It wouldn’t have to be as bright, but something made by a person so anyone who gets close enough to throw a spear will know he is not ordinary.”
“I would suggest,” Marlie added, “that since all people are not entirely reliable, sometimes telling is not enough. It might be wise for you and your Mamut to contrive some prohibition against killing the horses. A good curse could scare off anyone who might be tempted to see how mortal those animals are.”
“You can always say that Rydag will send Wolf to get anyone who hurts them,” Branag said, with a smile. “That story is probably all over the Meeting by now, and grown bigger with each telling.”
“That may not be such a bad idea,” Marlie said, standing up to go. “At least it could be spread around as a rumor.”
They watched the co-leaders of the Wolf Camp go, then shaking her head sadly, Tulie went to finish getting settled in. Talut decided to go find out who was organizing competitions to set up a spear-thrower competition, and stopped to talk to Brecie and Jondalar. The three left together. Deegie and Branag walked with Ayla toward the horses.
“I know just the person to tell to start the rumor going,” Branag said. “With the stories going around already, even if they aren’t entirely believed, I think they will avoid the horses. I don’t think anyone will want to take a chance that Rydag might send the wolf after him. I’ve been meaning to ask, how did Rydag know to signal the wolf?”
Deegie looked at the man to whom she was Promised with surprise. “I guess you don’t know, do you? I don’t know why I should think that just because I know something, you know it, too. Frebec wasn’t just making something up to defend Lion Camp. He was telling the truth. Rydag understands everything that everyone says. He always has. We just didn’t know it until Ayla taught us all his sign language so we could underst
and him. When Frebec was pretending to walk away, he told Rydag, and Rydag asked Ayla. We all knew what they were saying, so we knew what was going to happen.”
“Is that true?” Branag asked. “You were talking to each other and no one knew it!” He laughed. “Well, if I’m going to be in on the Lion Camp’s surprises, maybe I should learn this secret language, too.”
“Ayla!” Crozie called, coming out of the tent. They stopped and let her catch up. “Tulie just told me what you decided to do to mark the horses,” she said, coming toward them. “Smart idea, and red will stand out on a light-colored horse, but you don’t have two bright red hides. When I was unpacking, I found something I’d like you to have.” She unwrapped a bundle that had recently been untied, took out a folded hide and shook it open.
“Oh, Crozie!” Ayla exclaimed. “This is beautiful!” she breathed in wonder at a chalk-white leather cape decorated with ivory beads in subtle repetitive triangles, and hedgehog quills, dyed ochre red and sewn on in patterns of right-angled spirals and zigzags.
Crozie’s eyes lit up at her admiration. Having made a tunic, Ayla understood the difficulty of making leather white. “It’s for Racer. I think white against his dark brown coat will stand out.”
“Crozie, it’s too beautiful for that. It will get dirty and dusty, and especially if he tries to roll with it on, it will lose the decorations. I can’t let Racer wear this out in the field,” Ayla said.
Crozie looked at her sternly. “If someone is out hunting horses and sees a brown horse with a white decorated cover on his back, do you think that hunter is likely to aim a spear at him?”
“No, but you have put too much work into that to let it get ruined.”
“The work was put in many years ago,” Crozie said, then with a softening expression and a misting of her eyes, she added, “It was made for my son, Fralie’s brother. I have never been able to give it to anyone else. I could not bear to see someone else wear it, and I could not throw it away. I have just dragged it around from place to place, a useless piece of hide, the work wasted. If this hide will help protect that animal, it will no longer be useless, the work will have some value. I want you to have it, for what you have given me.”
Ayla took the proffered package, but looked puzzled. “What have I given you, Crozie?”
“It’s not important,” she said abruptly. “Just take it.”
Frebec, hurrying into the tent, looked up and saw them, and smiled, full of self-satisfaction, before going in. They smiled back.
“I was very surprised when Frebec came forward to defend Rydag,” Branag commented. “I would have thought he would be the last one.”
“He’s changed a lot,” Deegie said. “He still likes to argue, but he’s not so hard to get along with. He’s willing to listen sometimes.”
“Well, he never was afraid to step up and say what he thought,” Branag said.
“Maybe that’s what it was,” Crozie said. “I never did understand what Fralie saw in him. I tried my best to talk her out of joining with him. He didn’t have a thing to offer. His mother had no status, he had no particular talents, I thought she was throwing herself away. Maybe just having the nerve to ask says something for him, and he really did want her. I suppose I should have trusted her judgment all along, after all, she is my daughter. Just because someone comes from poor beginnings doesn’t mean he may not want to better himself.”
Branag looked at Deegie, and then Ayla, over Crozie’s head. In his opinion, she had changed even more than Frebec.
32
Ayla was alone in the tent. She glanced over the area that would be her place for the duration of their stay, trying to find one more article to fold, one more object to arrange, one more reason to delay leaving the confines of Cattail Camp. As soon as she was ready, Mamut had told her, he wanted to take her to meet the people with whom she was associated with in a unique way, the mamuti, those who belonged to the Mammoth Hearth.
She looked upon the meeting as an ordeal, certain they would want to question her, evaluate her, and judge whether she had a right to be included within their ranks. In her heart, she didn’t believe she did. She didn’t feel possessed of unique talents and special gifts. She was a Healer because she had learned the skills and knowledge of a medicine woman from Iza. There was no great magic in having the animals, either. The mare answered to her because, when she was alone, and lonely, in her valley, she had taken in a motherless foal for company, and Racer was born there. She saved Wolf because she owed it to his mother, and she knew by then that animals raised around people would be friendly. It wasn’t a big mystery.
Rydag had stayed inside the tent with her for a while, after she examined him, asked him some specific questions about how he felt, and made a mental note to adjust his medicine. Then he went out and sat with Wolf to watch the people. Nezzie had agreed with her that he seemed in a much better mood. The woman was full of self-righteous delight, and praise for Frebec, who had heard and overheard so many words of praise he was almost embarrassed. Ayla had never seen him smile so much, and knew that part of his happiness was the sense of acceptance and belonging. She understood the feeling.
Ayla looked around one last time, picked up a rawhide container and attached it to her belt, then sighed and walked outside. Everyone seemed to be gone except Mamut, who was talking to Rydag. Wolf saw her and raised his head as she approached, which caused Rydag and Mamut to look also.
“Is everyone gone? Maybe I should stay here and watch Rydag until someone comes back,” she said, quick to volunteer.
“Wolf watch me,” Rydag signed, with a grin. “No one stay long when see Wolf. I tell Nezzie go. You go, Ayla.”
“He’s right. Wolf seems content to stay here with Rydag, and I can’t think of a better guardian,” Mamut said.
“What if he gets sick?” Ayla said.
“I get sick, I tell Wolf, ‘get Ayla.’ ” Rydag made the signal they had worked out before in practice and play. Wolf jumped up, put his paws on Ayla’s chest, and reached up to lick her jaw, eager to get her attention.
She smiled, ruffed up his neck, then signaled him down.
“I want stay here, Ayla. I like watching. River. Horses in meadow. People walk by.” Rydag grinned. “Not always see me, stare at tent, stare at horse place. Then see Wolf. Funny people.”
Mamut and Ayla both smiled at his simple delight in seeing the surprised reactions of people.
“Well, I suppose it will be all right. Nezzie wouldn’t have left him if she didn’t think he would be safe,” Ayla said, conceding her last internal argument against leaving. “I’m ready to go, Mamut.”
As they walked together toward the permanent lodges of Wolf Camp, Ayla noticed a denser concentration of tents and Camps, and many more people milling around between them. She was glad they were on the outside edge, where she could look out and see trees and grass, and the river and meadow. Several people nodded or spoke to them as they passed. Ayla watched Mamut, noting how he acknowledged their greetings, and responded the same way.
One lodge at the end of the somewhat uneven row of six seemed to be the focal point of activities. Ayla noticed a cleared area with no household Camps near the dwelling, and realized it must be the place where people gathered. The Camps that were immediately adjacent to the clearing did not have the look of usual household areas. One of them had a fence made of openly spaced mammoth bones, branches and dried brush marking the territorial boundaries. As they passed it, Ayla heard her name called. She stopped, surprised at who had called her from the other side of the fence.
“Latie!” she said, then recalled what Deegie had told her. As long as Latie was still at the lodge of the Lion Camp, the restriction on her association with males did not limit her movements or activities too much. However, once they reached the Meeting place, it was necessary that she be kept in seclusion. Several other young women were with her, all smiling and giggling. She was introduced to Latie’s age mates, who seemed to be somewhat in awe of h
er.
“Where are you going, Ayla?”
“To the Mammoth Hearth,” Mamut answered for her.
Latie nodded as though she should have known. Ayla noticed Tulie in the enclosed yard area around a tent which was decorated with painted designs in red ochre, talking to several other women. She waved and smiled.
“Latie, look! A red-foot!” one of her friends said, in hushed tones of excitement. Everyone stopped to stare, and the young women giggled. Ayla found herself looking with great interest at the woman who sauntered past, noticing as she walked that the bottoms of her bare feet were a rich bright red. She had been told about them, but this was the first one she had seen. She seemed to be a perfectly ordinary woman, Ayla thought. Yet, there was a quality to her that made one look twice.
The woman approached a knot of young men, whom Ayla hadn’t seen before, loitering near a stand of small trees across the clearing. Ayla thought her walk became more exaggerated as she neared them, her smile more languorous, and she suddenly noticed her red feet more. The woman stopped to talk to the young men, and her liquid laugh floated across the empty space. As she and the old man walked away, Ayla remembered the conversation the women, and Mamut, had had the evening before the Spring Festival.
All the young females who were in the transitional state of not-yet-women were under constant surveillance—but not only by the chaperons. Ayla noticed, now, several groups of young men standing around the fringes of the prohibited area where Latie and her age mates were staying, hoping to catch a glimpse of the forbidden, and therefore all the more desirable, young women. At no time in her life was a woman the object of greater interest by the male population. The young women enjoyed their unique status and the special attention it brought, and were just as interested in the other gender, though they disdained to show it openly. They spent most of their time peeking out of the tent or around the fence, speculating about the various males, who paraded and lounged around the periphery with exaggerated casualness.