by Jean M. Auel
“Once it was pain and humiliation for me, too,” Ayla said.
The young woman looked surprised, but Losaduna nodded, as though he suddenly understood something.
“Madenia,” Ayla said gently, “when I was near your age, a little younger I think, but not long after I started my moon time, I was forced, too. It was my first time. I didn’t know it was meant for Pleasure. For me it was only pain.”
“But only one man?” Madenia said.
“Only one man, but he demanded it of me many times after that, and I hated it!” Ayla said, surprised herself at the anger she still felt.
“Many times? Even after being forced the first time? Why didn’t someone stop him?” Madenia said.
“They believed it was his right. They thought I was wrong for feeling such anger and hatred, and they didn’t understand why I should feel pain. I began to wonder if there was something wrong with me. After a while, I felt no pain, but no Pleasure either. It was not done for Pleasure. It was done to humiliate me, and I never stopped hating it. But … I stopped caring. Something wonderful happened, and no matter what he did, I thought about something else, something happy, and I ignored him. When he couldn’t make me feel anything, not even anger, I think he felt humiliated, and he finally stopped. But I didn’t ever want a man to touch me again.”
“No man will ever touch me again!” Madenia said.
“All men are not like Charoli and his band, Madenia. Some are like Jondalar. He was the one who taught me the joy and the Pleasure of the Mother’s Gift, and I promise you, it is a wonderful Gift. Give yourself a chance to meet a man like Jondalar, and you will learn the joy, too.”
Madenia shook her head. “No! No! It is terrible!”
“I know it was terrible. Even the best Gifts can be misused, and the good turned to evil. But someday you will want to be a mother, and you will never be a mother, Madenia, if you don’t share the Mother’s Gift with a man,” Ayla said.
Madenia was crying, her face wet with tears. “Don’t say that. I don’t want to hear that.”
“I know you don’t, but it’s true. Don’t let Charoli spoil the good for you. Don’t let him take away your chance to be a mother. Have your First Rites so you can learn that it doesn’t have to be terrible. I finally learned, though there was no gathering and no ceremony to celebrate it. The Mother found a way to give me that joy. She sent me Jondalar. The Gift is more than Pleasures, Madenia, much more, if it is shared with caring, and love. If the pain I had the first time was the price I had to pay, I would gladly pay it many times for the love I have known. You have suffered so much, maybe the Mother will give you someone special, too, if you give Her a chance. Just think about it, Madenia. Don’t say no until you think about it.”
Ayla woke up feeling more rested and refreshed than she could ever remember. She smiled lazily to herself and reached for Jondalar, but he was up and gone already. She felt a moment of disappointment, then remembered that he had awakened her to remind her that he was going hunting with Laduni and some of the hunters, and to ask her again if she wanted to join them. She had declined the same offer made the evening before because she had other plans for the day, and she had stayed in bed enjoying the rare luxury of snuggling back into the warm furs.
This time she decided to get up. She stretched and ran her hands through her hair, delighting in the silky softness of it. Solandia had promised to tell her how to make the foamy lather that made her feel so clean and her hair so soft.
Breakfast was the same food they’d eaten ever since they arrived, a broth with reconstituted pieces of a dried freshwater fish, netted earlier in the year from the Great Mother River.
Jondalar had told her that the Cave was low on supplies, which was why they were going hunting, though it wasn’t meat or fish that most people craved. They weren’t starving, or even lacking food—they had enough to eat—but it was so close to the end of winter that the variety was limited. Everyone was tired of dried meat and dried fish. Even fresh meat would be a change, though it wouldn’t satisfy completely. They were hungry for the greens and shoots of vegetables, and new fruits, the first products of spring. Ayla had made a foray into the area around the cave, but the Losadunai had been out all season and it was picked clean. They still had a reasonable supply of fat left, which kept them from protein starvation and supplied enough calories to keep them healthy, though it was usually added to the soups that were made for later meals.
The feast that was to be part of the Mother Ceremony the next day would be a limited one. Ayla had already decided to contribute the last of her salt, and some other herbs to season and add flavor as well as valuable nutrients; the vitamins and minerals their bodies needed, which was the primary cause of the cravings. Solandia had shown her the small supply of fermented beverages, mostly birch beer, that she said would make the occasion festive.
The woman would also be using some of her stored fat to make a new batch of soap. When Ayla voiced her concern that they would be using necessary food, Solandia said Losaduna liked to use it for ceremonies, and she claimed their soap supply was almost exhausted. While the older woman tended to her children and got everything ready, Ayla went out with Wolf to check on Whinney and Racer and spend some time with them.
Solandia went to the large opening of the cave to tell Ayla she was ready, but she stood at the mouth for a while and watched the visitor. Ayla had just returned from a gallop across the field and was laughing and playing with the animals. It occurred to the older woman, from the way Ayla behaved toward them, that the animals were like her children.
Some of the youngsters of the Cave were watching, too, including a couple of her own. They were shouting and calling to Wolf, who looked back at Ayla, obviously eager to join them but waiting for her approval. Ayla saw the woman standing at the mouth of the cave and hurried to her.
“I was hoping Wolf could keep the baby entertained,” Solandia said. “Verdegia and Madenia are coming over to help, but the process takes concentration.”
“Oh, Mother!” the eldest girl, Dosalia, said. She was one who had been trying to entice the wolf to come. “The baby always gets to play with him.”
“Well, if you want to watch the baby instead …”
The girl frowned; then she smiled. “Can we take him outside? It’s not blowing, and I’ll dress him warm.”
“I guess you can,” Solandia said.
Ayla looked down at the wolf who was looking up at her expectantly. “Watch the baby, Wolf,” she said. He yipped, seemingly in response.
“I’ve got some good mammoth fat that I rendered out last fall,” Solandia said as they walked to the area of her enclosed dwelling space. “We had good luck hunting mammoth last year. That’s why we still have so much fat, and a good thing, too. It would have been a hard winter without it. I’ve started the fat melting.” They reached the entranceway just as the children were running out, carrying the youngest. “Don’t lose Micheri’s mitts,” Solandia called out after them.
Verdegia and Madenia were already inside. “I brought some ashes,” Verdegia said. Madenia just smiled, a bit hesitantly.
Solandia was pleased to see her willing to get up out of bed and be around people again. Whatever they did at the hot spring, it seemed to have helped. “I put some cooking stones in the fire for tea. Madenia, would you make some for us?” she asked. “Then I’ll use the rest to reheat the water melting the fat.”
“Where do you want these ashes?” Verdegia asked.
“You can mix them with mine. I started them leaching, but not long ago.”
“Losaduna said you use fat and ashes,” Ayla commented.
“And water,” Solandia added.
“That seems to be a strange combination.”
“Yes, it is.”
“What made you decide to mix those things together? I mean, how did you come to make it? The first time?”
Solandia smiled. “It was really an accident. We had been hunting. I had a fire going outside in a
fireplace with a deep pit, and some fat mammoth meat roasting over it. It started to rain, hard. I grabbed the meat, spit and all, and ran for cover. As soon as it let up, we headed back here to the cave, but I forgot a good wooden cooking bowl, and went back for it the next day. The fireplace was full of water, with something that looked like thick foamy scum floating on it. I would never have bothered with it, except I dropped a ladle in it and had to reach in and fish it out. I went to the stream to rinse it off. It felt smooth and slippery, like good soaproot, but more, and my hands got so clean! The ladle, too. All the grease washed off. I went back and put the foam in the bowl, and brought it back.”
“Is it that easy to make?” Ayla asked.
“No. It really isn’t. Not that it’s hard to make, but it does take some practice,” Solandia said. “The first time I was lucky. Everything must have been just right. I’ve been working with it ever since, but it still fails sometimes.”
“How do you make it? You must have developed some ways that work most of the time.”
“It’s not hard to explain. I melt clean rendered fat—any kind will work, but each one makes it a little different. I like mammoth fat best. Then I take wood ashes, mix them with warm water and let them soak for a little while. Then strain it through a mesh, or a basket with holes in the bottom. The mixture that leaches out is strong. It can sting or burn your skin, I found out. You need to rinse it off right away. Anyway, you stir the strong mixture into the fat. If you are lucky, you get a soft foam, that will clean anything, even leather.”
“But you’re not always lucky,” Verdegia said.
“No. Lots of things can go wrong. Sometimes you can stir and stir and stir, and it won’t mix. If that happens, heating it a little will sometimes help. Sometimes it separates and you get a layer that’s too strong and a layer that’s too greasy. Sometimes it curdles into lumps that are not quite mixed. Sometimes it comes out harder than others, but that’s not bad. It tends to harden as it ages, anyway.”
“But sometimes it does work, like the first time,” Ayla said.
“One thing I’ve learned is that both the fat and the liquid from the ashes have to be about the same warmth as the skin of your wrist,” Solandia said. “When you sprinkle a little on, it shouldn’t feel either cool or warm. The ash liquid is harder to tell because it’s strong and can burn a little, then you have to wash it off right away with cool water. If it burns too much, you know you need to add more water. It doesn’t burn too bad, usually, but I wouldn’t want to get it in my eyes. It can sting if you just get too close to the fumes.”
“And it can stink!” Madenia said.
“That’s true,” Solandia said. “It can stink. That’s why I usually go out into the middle of the cave to mix it, even though I get everything ready to mix here.”
“Mother! Mother! Come quick!” Solandia’s second daughter Neladia came dashing in, then ran out.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen to the baby?” the woman said, rushing out after her. Everyone else followed behind and ran to the mouth of the cave.
“Look!” Dosalia said. They all looked outside. “The baby is walking!”
There was Micheri, standing up beside the wolf, hanging on to his fur, with a big self-satisfied smile, taking unsteady steps as Wolf carefully and slowly moved forward. Everyone smiled with relief and then delight.
“Is that wolf smiling?” Solandia asked. “It looks to me as though he is. He seems to be so pleased with himself that he’s smiling.”
“I think he is, too,” Ayla said. “I have often thought he could smile.”
“It’s not only for ceremony, Ayla,” Losaduna was saying. “We often use the hot waters just to soak. If you want to take Jondalar in just to relax, we have no objections. The Sacred Waters of the Mother are like Her other Gifts to Her children. They are meant to be used and enjoyed, and appreciated. Just as this tea you made should be appreciated,” he added, holding up the cup.
Nearly the whole Cave, those that had not gone hunting, were sitting around a fireplace in the open central area of the cave. Most meals were very unstructured, except for special occasions. The people sometimes ate separately, in family groups, and sometimes with others. This time, those who had stayed at the cave had stopped for a midday meal and eaten together, largely because they were all interested in the visitors. The meal consisted of a hearty meat soup of lean, dried deer, made rich with the addition of some mammoth fat, which made it filling and satisfying enough. They were finished off with tea that Ayla had made, and all had remarked on how good it was.
“When they come back, maybe we will use the pool. I think he’d enjoy a hot soak, and I’d like to share it with him,” Ayla said.
“You’d better warn her, Losaduna,” a woman said, with a knowing smile. She had been introduced as Laduni’s mate.
“Warn me of what, Laronia?” Ayla said.
“Sometimes you have to choose between the Mother’s Gifts.”
“What do you mean?”
“She means the Sacred Waters can be too relaxing,” Solandia said.
“I still don’t understand,” Ayla said, frowning. She knew everyone was talking about the subject, and there was an element of humor involved.
“If you take Jondalar for a hot soak, it will relax the strength right out of his manhood,” Verdegia said, more direct than the others, “and it may take a couple of hours before it can stand up again. So don’t expect too much of him, after a soak. Not right away. Some men won’t soak in the Mother’s Sacred Waters for that reason. They are afraid their manhood will drain out in the Sacred Waters and never come back.”
“Can that happen?” Ayla asked, looking at Losaduna.
“Not that I’ve ever seen, or heard about,” the man said. “If anything, the opposite seems to be true. A man is more eager, after a while, but I think that’s because he’s relaxed and feels good.”
“I did feel wonderful after the hot soak, and I slept very well, but I think there was more than water to it,” Ayla said. “Perhaps the tea?”
The man smiled. “That was an important ritual. There is always more to a ceremony.”
“Well, I’m ready to go back to the Sacred Waters, but I think I’ll wait for Jondalar. Do you think the hunters will be back soon?”
“I’m sure they will,” Laronia said. “Laduni knows there are things to do before the Mother Festival tomorrow. I don’t think they would have gone today, except that he wanted to see how Jondalar’s long-range hunting weapon works. What does he call it?”
“A spear-thrower, and it works very well,” Ayla said, “but like anything, it takes practice. We’ve had lots of practice on this Journey.”
“Do you use his spear-thrower?” Madenia asked.
“I have my own,” Ayla said. “I’ve always liked to hunt.”
“Why didn’t you go with them today?” the girl asked.
“Because I wanted to learn how to make that cleansing material. And I have some clothes I want to clean and mend,” Ayla said, getting up and heading toward the ceremonial tent. Then she stopped. “I have something I’d like to show everyone, too,” she said. “Has anyone ever seen a thread-puller?” She saw puzzled looks and shaking heads. “If you wait here a moment, I’ll get mine and show you.”
Ayla returned from the dwelling space with her sewing kit and some clothing she wanted to repair. With everyone crowded around to see yet another amazing thing brought by the travelers, she took a small cylinder out of her kit—it had come from the lightweight, hollow leg of a bird—and shook two ivory needles out of it. She handed one to Solandia.
The woman examined the highly polished miniature shaft closely. It was brought to a sharp point at one end, somewhat like an awl. The other end was a bit thicker and, surprisingly, had a very small hole that went all the way through. She thought about it, and suddenly got an inkling of what it was for. “Did you say this was a thread-puller?” she said, handing it to Laronia.
“Yes. I’ll show
you how I use it,” Ayla said, separating a thin piece of sinew from a fibrous thicker strand. She wet the end and smoothed it to a point, then waited for it to dry. The thread of tendon hardened slightly and held its shape. She threaded it through the hole at the back end of the tiny ivory shaft, then put it aside for the moment. Next she picked up a small flint tool with a sharp point and used it to poke holes near the edges of a garment whose stitches along a side seam had pulled out, a few of them tearing through the leather in the process. The new holes were back slightly from the previous ones.
Once she had made the holes for a new seam, Ayla settled down to demonstrate the new implement. She put the point of the ivory needle through the holes in the leather and, grasping the small shaft, pulled the thread through, ending with a flourish.
“Oooh!” The people seated nearby, especially the women, breathed out a collective sigh. “Look at that!” “She didn’t have to pick the thread out, she pulled it right through.” “Can I try that?”
Ayla passed the garment around and let them experiment, explaining and showing, and telling them how the idea had come to her, and how everyone at Lion Camp had helped her to develop and make it.
“This is a very well-made awl,” Solandia commented, examining it closely.
“Wymez, of the Lion Camp, made it. He also made the borer that was used to make the hole that the thread goes through,” Ayla said.
“That would be a very difficult tool to make,” Losaduna said.
“Jondalar says Wymez is the only flint knapper he’s ever met who is as good as Dalanar, and, possibly, a little better.”
“That’s high praise from him,” Losaduna said. “Everyone acknowledges Dalanar as the master stoneworker. His skill is known even on this side of the glacier, among the Losadunai.”
“But Wymez is also a master.”
They all turned in surprise at the sound of the voice that had just spoken, and saw Jondalar, Laduni, and several others coming into the cave, bringing with them an ibex they had killed.