by Jean M. Auel
“Is there anything I should not say or do?”
“You have a natural sensitivity and will know that yourself. You have a rare, natural ability for new language, too. I am genuinely amazed at how quickly you have learned to speak Losadunai, and grateful, too, for Madenia’s sake,” Losaduna said.
Ayla felt uncomfortable with his praise and glanced away. It didn’t seem especially amazing to her. “It is quite similar to Zelandonii,” she said.
He could see her discomfort and didn’t make any further issue of it. They both looked up when Solandia came in.
“Everything’s ready,” she said. “I’ll take the children and have this place prepared for you when you are through. Oh, and that reminds me, Ayla, do you mind if I take Wolf? The baby has grown so attached to him, and he keeps them all occupied.” The woman chuckled. “Who would have thought that I’d ever be asking for a wolf to come and watch my children?”
“I think it would be better if he went with you,” Ayla said. “Madenia doesn’t know Wolf.”
“Shall we go and get her, then?” Losaduna said.
As they walked together toward the dwelling space of Madenia and her mother, Ayla noticed she was taller than the man, and she recalled that her first impression of him had been that he was small and shy. She was surprised at how much her perception of him had changed. Although he was short in height, and reserved in demeanor, his sure intellect lent stature, and his quiet dignity cloaked a deep sensitivity and a strong presence.
Losaduna scratched at the stiff rawhide leather stretched between a rectangle of slender poles. The entry door was pushed outward and they were admitted by an older woman. She frowned when she saw Ayla and gave her a sour look, obviously unhappy that the stranger was there.
The woman started right in, full of bitterness and anger. “Has that man been found, yet? The one who stole my grandchildren from me, before they ever had a chance to be born.”
“Finding Charoli won’t return your grandchildren, Verdegia, and he is not my concern right now. Madenia is. How is she?” Losaduna said.
“She won’t get out of bed, and she hardly eats a thing. She won’t even talk to me. She was such a pretty child, and she was growing into a beautiful woman. She would have had no trouble finding a mate, until Charoli and his men ruined her.”
“Why do you think she is ruined?” Ayla asked.
The older woman looked at Ayla as if she were stupid. “Doesn’t this woman know anything?” Verdegia said to Losaduna, then turned to Ayla. “Madenia didn’t even have her First Rites. She is fouled, ruined. The Mother will never bless her now.”
“Don’t be too sure of that. The Mother is not so unforgiving,” the man said. “She knows the ways of Her children and has provided means, other ways to help them. Madenia can be cleansed and purified, renewed, so that she can still have her Rites of First Pleasures.”
“It won’t do any good. She refuses to have anything to do with men, not even for First Rites,” Verdegia said. “All my sons have gone to live with their mates; everyone said we didn’t have room in our cave for so many new families. Madenia is my last child, my only daughter. Ever since my man died, I have been looking forward to her bringing a mate here, having a man around to help provide for the children she would bear, my grandchildren. Now I won’t have any grandchildren living here. All because of that … that man,” she sputtered, “and no one is doing anything about it.”
“You know that Laduni is waiting to hear from Tomasi,” Losaduna said.
“Tomasi!” Verdegia spat out the name. “What good is he? It was his cave that spawned that … that man.”
“You have to give them a chance. But we don’t have to wait for them in order to help Madenia. After she is cleansed and renewed, she may change her mind about her First Rites. At least we need to try.”
“You can try, but she won’t get up,” the woman said.
“Perhaps we can encourage her,” Losaduna said. “Where is she?”
“Over there, behind the drape,” Verdegia said, pointing to an enclosed space near the stone wall.
Losaduna went to the place and pulled the drape back, admitting light into the darkened alcove. The girl on the bed put up her hand to ward off the brightness.
“Madenia, get up now,” he said. His tone was firm but gentle. She turned her face away. “Help me with her, Ayla.”
The two of them pulled her to a sitting position, then helped her to her feet. Madenia didn’t resist, but she didn’t cooperate. With one on each side, they led her out of the enclosed space, and then out of the cave. The girl didn’t seem to notice the freezing, snow-covered ground, even with bare feet. They guided her toward a large conical tent that Ayla hadn’t noticed before. It was tucked away around the side of the cave, screened by rocks and brush, and steam came from the smoke hole at the top. A strong smell of sulfur permeated the air.
After they entered, Losaduna pulled a leather covering across the opening and fastened it. They were in a small entrance space that was partitioned from the rest of the interior by heavy leather drapes, mammoth hide, Ayla thought. Although the temperature was freezing cold, it was warm inside. A double-walled tent had been erected over a hot spring, which provided the heating; but for all the steam, the walls were reasonably dry. Though some moisture collected, beading up and running down the sloping sides to the edge of the ground cloth, most of the condensation occurred on the inside of the outer wall, where the cold outside met the steamy warmth inside. The insulating air space in between was warmer, keeping the inner liner nearly dry.
Losaduna directed them to undress, and when Madenia did nothing, he told Ayla to do it for her. The young woman clutched at her clothes when Ayla attempted to remove them, staring with wide eyes at the One Who Served the Mother.
“Try to get her clothes off, but if she won’t let you, bring her in with them on,” Losaduna said, then slipped behind the heavy drape, allowing a wisp of steam to escape. Once the man left, Ayla managed to ease the girl’s clothing off, then quickly undressed herself and led Madenia to the room beyond the drape.
Clouds of steam obscured the space inside with a warm fog that blurred outlines and concealed details, but Ayla could make out a pool lined with stones beside a steaming natural hot spring. A hole connecting the two was plugged with a carved wooden stopper. On the other side of the pool, a hollowed-out log, which brought in cold water from a nearby stream, had been lifted and made to slope the wrong way, stopping the flow from entering the pool. When the billowing steam cleared for a moment, she saw that the inside of the tent was painted with animals, many of them pregnant, most of them faded from water condensation, along with enigmatic triangles, circles, trapezoids, and other geometric shapes.
Around the pools, extending not quite all the way to the wall of the tent, thick pads of felted mouflon wool had been placed on top of the ground cloth, wonderfully soft and warm under bare feet. They were marked with shapes and lines that led to the more shallow left side of the pool. Stone benches could be seen under the water, against the wall of the deeper right side. Near the back was a raised dais of earth supporting three flickering stone lamps—saucer-shaped bowls filled with melted fat with a wick of something aromatic floating in the center—that surrounded a small statue of an amply endowed woman. Ayla recognized it as a figure representing the Great Earth Mother.
A carefully laid hearth within a nearly perfect circle of round stones, almost identical in shape and size, was in front of the earthen altar. Losaduna appeared out of the steaming mist and picked up a small stick beside one of the lamps. It had a blob of dark material at one end, which he held to the flame. It caught quickly, and from the smell, Ayla knew it had been dipped in pitch. Losaduna carried the small brand, cupping the flame with his hand, to the prepared fireplace, and by lighting the tinder, started the fire. It gave off a strongly aromatic but pleasant smell that masked the odor of sulfur.
“Follow me,” he said. Then, placing his left foot on one of the
wool pads between the two parallel lines, he started walking around the pool along a precisely laid-out path. Madenia shuffled along behind him, neither knowing nor caring where she put her feet, but Ayla, watching him, followed in his footsteps. They made a complete circuit of the pool and the hot spring, stepping over the cold water inlet and across a deep outlet trench. As he started around a second time, Losaduna began chanting in a singsong voice, invoking the Mother with names and titles.
“O Duna, Great Earth Mother, Great and Beneficent Provider, Great Mother of All, Original One, First Mother, She Who blesses all women, Most Compassionate Mother, hear our plea.” The man repeated the invocation over and over as they circled the water for the second time.
As he placed his left foot between the parallel lines of the starting mat to begin the third circle, he had reached “Most Compassionate Mother, hear our plea,” but instead of repeating, he continued with, “O Duna, Great Earth Mother, one of Your own has been harmed. One of Your own has been violated. One of Your own must be cleansed and purified to receive Your blessing. Great and Beneficent Provider, one of Your own needs Your help. She must be healed. She must be mended. Renew her, Great Mother of All, and help her to know the joy of Your Gifts. Help her, Original One, to know Your Rites of First Pleasures. Help her, First Mother, to receive Your Blessing. Most Compassionate Mother, help Madenia, daughter of Verdegia, child of the Losadunai, the Earth’s Children who live near the high mountains.”
Ayla was moved and fascinated by the words and the ceremony and she thought she noticed signs of interest in Madenia, which pleased her. After completing the third circuit, Losaduna led them, again with carefully placed steps as he continued his plea, to the earthen altar where the three lamps burned around the small Mother figure, the dunai. Beside another lamp was a knifelike object, carved out of bone. It was fairly wide, double edged, with a somewhat rounded tip. He picked it up, then led them to the fireplace.
They sat down around the fire facing the pool, close together, with Madenia in the middle. The man added brown burning stones to the flames from a nearby pile. Then, from an alcove at the side of the raised platform of earth, Losaduna took a bowl. It was made of stone and probably originally had a natural bowl shape, but it had been deepened by pecking at it with a hard hammerstone. The bottom of it was blackened. He filled the bowl with water from a small waterbag that was also in the niche, added dried leaves from a small basket, and put the stone bowl directly on top of the hot coals.
Then, in a flat area of fine dry soil surrounded by wool pads, he made a mark with the bone knife. Suddenly, Ayla understood what the bone implement was. The Mamutoi had used a similar tool to make marks in the dirt, to keep track of scores and gambling counts, to plan hunting strategies, and as a storytelling knife, drawing pictures as illustrations. As Losaduna continued making marks, Ayla realized he was using the knife to help tell a story, but not one meant simply to entertain. He told it in the chanting singsong that he had used to make his plea, drawing birds to emphasize and reinforce the points he wanted to stress. Ayla soon realized that the story was an allegorical retelling of the attack on Madenia, using birds as the characters.
The young woman was definitely responding now, identifying with the young female bird he was telling about, and suddenly, with a loud sob, she began to cry. With the flat side of the drawing knife, the One Who Served the Mother wiped out the whole scene.
“It is gone! It never happened,” he said, then drew only a picture of the young bird. “She is whole again, just as she was in the beginning. With the help of the Mother, that’s what will happen to you, Madenia. It will be gone, as though it never happened.”
A minty aroma with a familiar pungency that Ayla couldn’t quite place began to fill the steamy tent. Losaduna checked the steaming water on the coal, then dipped out a cupful. “Drink this,” he said.
Madenia was caught off guard, and before she could think, or object, she downed the liquid. He scooped out another cup for Ayla and took one for himself. Then he got up and led them to the pool.
Losaduna moved into the steaming water slowly, but without hesitation. Madenia followed him and, without thinking, Ayla followed her. But when she put her foot in the water, she yanked it out again. It was hot! This water is nearly hot enough to cook with, she thought. Only by great concentration of will did she force herself to put her foot back in the water, but she stood there for some time before she could make herself take another step. Ayla had often bathed or swum in the cold waters of rivers, streams, and pools, even water so cold she broke through a film of ice, and she had washed with water warmed by a fire, but she had never stepped into hot water before.
Though Losaduna led them into the pool slowly, to allow them to get used to the heat, it took Ayla much longer to reach the stone seats. But as she went in deeper, she felt a soothing warmth penetrate. When she sat down, and the water reached her chin, she began to relax. It wasn’t so bad, once you got used to it, she thought. The heat felt good, in fact.
Once they were settled and accustomed to the water, Losaduna instructed Ayla to hold her breath and dip her head under the water. When she came up, smiling, he told Madenia to do the same. Then he submerged himself and led them out of the pool.
He walked to the draped entrance and picked up a wooden bowl that was just inside. Mounded in the bowl was a thick, pale yellowish material that resembled heavy foam. Losaduna put the bowl down in an area that was paved with close-fitting flat stones. He dipped in, took a handful of the foam, and smoothed it over his body, telling Ayla to do the same to Madenia and then herself, and not to forget their hair.
The man chanted without words while he rubbed himself with the soft slippery stuff, but Ayla had the feeling that his chanting was not so much ritual as an expression of enjoyment. She was feeling a little lightheaded, and she wondered if it might be from the decoction they had drunk.
When they were through, and had used all of the sudsy foam, Losaduna picked up the wooden bowl, walked to the pool and filled it with water, then walked back to the stone-paved area and poured it over himself, rinsing the foam away. He poured two more bowlfuls of water on himself, then brought more and poured it over Madenia, and then Ayla. The water ran off away from the pool and between the cracks of the paving stones. Then the One Who Served the Mother led them back to the hot pool, chanting wordlessly again.
As they sat and soaked, almost floating in the mineralized water, Ayla felt completely relaxed. The hot pool reminded her of the Mamutoi sweat baths, but was, perhaps, even better. When Losaduna decided they had had enough, he reached down into the deep end of the pool and removed a wooden stopper. As the water began to run out of the deep outlet trench, the man began to shout, which shocked her for a moment.
“Evil spirits, go! Cleansing waters of the Mother, take away all traces of the touch of Charoli and all of his men. Impurities, run out with the water, leave this place. When this water is gone, Madenia will be cleansed, purified. The powers of the Mother have made her as she was before!” They walked out of the water.
Not stopping for their clothes, Losaduna led them out. They were so warm from the hot water that the cold wind and the freezing ground on their bare skin felt refreshing. The few people who were out ignored them or turned their heads aside as they passed. With an unpleasant feeling, Ayla was suddenly reminded of another time when people looked directly at her but refused to see her. But this wasn’t like being cursed by the Clan. She could tell that the people really did see them. They just affected not to, more as a courtesy than a curse. The walk cooled them down quickly, and by the time they reached the ceremonial shelter, they were happy to find soft dry blankets to wrap themselves in and hot mint tea.
Ayla looked at her hands curved around the cup. They were wrinkled, but absolutely clean! When she began to comb her hair with an implement with several teeth made of bone, she noticed that her hair squeaked when she pulled it through her fingers.
“What was that soft, slippery fo
am?” she asked. “It cleans like soaproot, but much more thoroughly.”
“Solandia makes it,” Losaduna said. “It has something to do with wood ashes and fat, but you’ll have to ask her.”
When she finished her own, Ayla began to comb Madenia’s hair. “How do you make the water so hot?”
The man smiled. “That’s a Gift of the Mother to the Losadunai. There are several hot springs in this region. Some are used by anyone, any time, but some are more sacred. We consider this one to be the center, the one from which the others come, so it is the most sacred of all. It makes this Cave especially honored. That’s why it’s so hard for anyone to leave, but our cave is getting so crowded that a group of young people are thinking of founding a new Cave. There is a place downstream and across the river they would like, but that’s flathead territory, or very close to it, so they haven’t decided what they will do.”
Ayla nodded, feeling so warm and relaxed that she didn’t want to move. She noticed that Madenia was more relaxed, too, not as stiff and withdrawn. “What a wonderful Gift that heated water is!” Ayla said.
“It’s important that we learn to appreciate all the Mother’s Gifts,” the man said, “but especially her Gift of Pleasure.”
Madenia stiffened. “Her Gift is a lie! It is no pleasure, only pain!” It was the first time she had actually spoken. “No matter how I begged them, they wouldn’t stop. They just laughed, and when one got through, another started! I wanted to die,” she said, then heaved a sob.
Ayla got up, went over to the girl, and held her. “It was my first time, and they wouldn’t stop! They wouldn’t stop,” Madenia cried over and over. “No man will ever touch me again!”
“You have a right to be angry. You have a right to cry. It was a terrible thing they did to you. I know how you feel,” Ayla said.
The young woman pulled away. “How do you know how I feel?” she said, full of bitterness and anger.