The Earth's Children Series 6-Book Bundle

by Jean M. Auel

  Perhaps I should talk to this healer of the Others, he thought, even if she is a woman who uses a weapon. Her status must be high, Dyondar holds her in high regard, and his must be high, or he would not be mated to a medicine woman. She had made those other men leave as much as the man … she and the wolf. Why would a wolf help them? He had seen her talking to the animal. The signal was simple and direct, she told him to wait over there, by the tree near the horses, but the wolf understood her and did it. He was still there, waiting.

  Guban looked away. It was difficult even to think about those animals without feeling a deep, underlying fear of spirits. What else would draw the wolf or the horses to them? What else would make animals behave so … unlike animals?

  He could tell his yellow-hair was worried; how could he blame her? Since Dyondar had seen fit to acknowledge his woman, perhaps it would be appropriate to mention his. He would not want them to think the status she gained from him was any less than Dyondar’s. Guban made a very subtle motion to the woman who had watched and seen everything, but, like a good Clan woman, had managed to make herself very inconspicuous.

  “This woman is …” he motioned, then tapped her shoulder and said, “Yorga.”

  Jondalar had the impression of two swallows separated by a rolled R. He could not even begin to reproduce the sound. Ayla saw his struggle, and she had to think of a way to gracefully handle the situation. She repeated her name in a way Jondalar could say it, but addressed her as a woman.

  “Yorga,” adding with signs, “this woman greets you. This woman is called …” and very slowly and carefully said, “Ayla.” Then in both signs and words, so Jondalar could understand, “The man named Dyondar would also greet the woman of Guban.”

  It was not the way it would have been done in the Clan, Guban thought, but then these people were Others, and it was not offensive. He was curious to see what Yorga would do.

  She flicked her eyes in Jondalar’s direction, very briefly, then looked back down at the ground. Guban shifted position just enough to let her know he was pleased. She had acknowledged Dyondar’s existence, but no more.

  Jondalar was less subtle. He had never been so close to Clan people … and he was fascinated. His look took much longer. Her features were similar to Guban’s, with feminine modifications, and he had noticed before that she was sturdy but short, the height of a girl. She was far from beautiful, at least in his opinion, except for her pale yellow, downy-soft fluff of curls, but he could understand why Guban might think so. Suddenly mindful of Guban watching him, he nodded perfunctorily, then looked away. The Clan man was glowering; he would have to be careful.

  Guban hadn’t liked the attention Jondalar had paid to his woman, but he did sense there was no lack of respect intended, and he was having more difficulty controlling his pain. He needed to know more about this healer.

  “I would speak to your … healer, Dyondar,” Guban signed.

  Jondalar got the sense of his meaning and nodded. Ayla had been watching, quickly came forward, and sat in respectful posture in front of the man.

  “Dyondar has said the woman is a healer. The woman says medicine woman. Guban would know how a woman of the Others can be a medicine woman of the Clan.”

  Ayla spoke as she made the signs, so that Jondalar would understand exactly what she was telling Guban. “The woman who took me in, who raised me, was a medicine woman of highest rank. Iza came from most ancient line of medicine woman. Iza was like mother to this woman, trained this woman with the daughter born to the line,” Ayla explained. She could see he was skeptical but interested in knowing more. “Iza knew this woman did not have the memories as her true daughter did.”

  Guban nodded, of course not.

  “Iza made this woman remember, made this woman tell Iza over and over, show over and over, until the medicine woman knew this woman would not lose the memories. This woman was happy to practice, to repeat many times to learn the ways of a medicine woman.”

  Although her gestures remained stylized and formal, her words became less so as she continued her explanation.

  “Iza told me she thought this woman came from a long line of medicine women, too, medicine women of the Others. Iza said I thought like a medicine woman, but she taught me how to think about medicine like a woman of the Clan. This woman was not born with the memories of a medicine woman, but Iza’s memories are my memories now.”

  Ayla had everyone’s attention. “Iza got sick, a coughing sickness that not even she could heal, and I began to do more. Even the leader was pleased when I treated a burn, but Iza gave status to the clan. When she was too sick to make the trip to the Clan Gathering, and her true daughter was still too young, the leader and The Mog-ur decided to make me medicine woman. They said that since I had her memories, I was a medicine woman of her line. The other mog-urs and leaders at the Clan Gathering didn’t like the idea at first, but they finally accepted me, too.”

  Ayla could see Guban was interested, and she sensed he wanted to believe her, but he still had doubts. She took off the decorated bag from around her neck, untied the cords, and spilled out some of the contents into her palm, then picked out a small black stone and held it out to him.

  Guban knew what it was, the black stone that would leave a mark was a mystery. Even the smallest piece could hold a tiny fraction of the spirits of all the people of the Clan, and was given to a medicine woman when a piece of hers was taken. The amulet she wore was strange, he thought, typical of the way the Others made things, but he hadn’t known they wore amulets at all. Maybe the Others weren’t all ignorant and brutish.

  Guban noticed another of the objects from her amulet and pointed to it. “What is that?”

  Ayla put the rest of her objects back in her amulet and put it down so she could answer. “It is my hunting talisman,” she said.

  That could not be true, Guban thought. This would prove her wrong. “Women of the Clan do not hunt.”

  “I know, but I was not born to the Clan. I was chosen by a Clan totem who protected me and led me to the clan that became mine, and my totem wanted me to hunt. Our mog-ur reached back and found the old spirits who told him. They made a special ceremony. I was called the Woman Who Hunts.”

  “What is this Clan totem that chose you?”

  Much to Guban’s surprise, Ayla lifted her tunic, unloosened the drawstring ties from around the waist of her leggings, and lowered the side enough to show her left thigh. Four parallel lines, the scars left by the claws that had raked her thigh when she was a girl, showed clearly. “My totem is the Cave Lion.”

  The Clan woman caught her breath. The totem was too strong for a woman. It would be difficult for her to have children.

  Guban grunted acknowledgment. The Cave Lion was the strongest hunting totem, a man’s totem. He had never known a woman to have it, yet those were the marks that were cut into the right thigh of a boy whose totem was the Cave Lion, after he’d made his first major kill and become a man. “It is on the left leg. The mark is put on a man’s right leg.”

  “I am a woman, not a man. The woman’s side is the left side.”

  “Your mog-ur marked you there?”

  “The Cave Lion himself marked me, when I was a girl, just before my clan found me.”

  “That would explain using the weapon,” Guban signed, “but what about children? Does this man with hair the color of Yorga’s have a totem strong enough to overcome such a totem?”

  Jondalar looked uncomfortable. He had wondered something like that himself.

  “The Cave Lion also chose him, and left his mark. I know because The Mog-ur told me the Cave Lion chose me, and put the marks on my leg to show it, just as the Cave Bear chose him, and took his eye …”

  Guban sat up, visibly shaken. He slipped out of the formal language, but Ayla understood him.

  “Mogor One-Eye! You know Mogor One-Eye?”

  “I lived at his hearth. He raised me. He and Iza were siblings, and after her mate died, he took her and her chi
ldren in. At the Clan Gathering, he was called The Mog-ur, but to those who lived at his hearth, he was Creb.”

  “Even at our Clan Gatherings, there is talk of Mogor One-Eye, and his powerful …” He was going to say more, but thought better of it. Men were not supposed to talk about the private esoteric male ceremonies around women. That would explain her skill with the ancient signs, too, if she was taught by Mogor One-Eye. And Guban did recall that the great Mogor One-Eye had a sibling who was a respected medicine woman from an ancient line. Suddenly Guban seemed to relax, and he allowed a fleeting look of pain to cloud his face. He took a deep breath, then looked at Ayla, who was sitting cross-legged, looking down, in the position of a proper Clan woman. He tapped her shoulder.

  “Respected medicine woman, this man has a … small problem,” Guban signaled in the ancient silent language of the Clan of the Cave Bear. “This man would ask the medicine woman to look at leg. The leg may be broken.”

  Ayla closed her eyes and let out her breath. She had managed to convince him. He would allow her to treat his leg. She signaled to Yorga, telling her to prepare a sleeping place for him. The broken bone had not pierced the skin, and she thought there was a good chance that he would have full use of it again, but for the leg to heal properly, she would have to straighten it, set it back in place, and then she would make a birchbark cast to hold it stiff, so he could not move it.

  “It will be painful to straighten it, but I have something that will relax the leg, and make him sleep.” Then she turned to Jondalar. “Will you move our camp here? I know it’s a chore with all those burning stones, but I want to set up the tent for him. They didn’t plan to be gone overnight, and he needs to be out of the cold, especially when I give him something to sleep. We’ll need some firewood, too, I don’t want to use the burning stones, and we’ll need to cut some wood for splints. I’ll get birchbark when he’s asleep, and maybe I can make some crutches for him. He’ll want to move around later.”

  Jondalar watched her take charge, and he smiled to himself. He hated the delay, even one more day seemed too much, but he wanted to help, too. Besides, Ayla wouldn’t leave now. He just hoped they wouldn’t be there too long.

  Jondalar took the horses to their first camp, repacked, moved, and unpacked again, then led Whinney and Racer to a clearing where they could search out dried grass. There was some standing hay, but more flat against the ground under old snow. It was a little distance from their new location, but out of sight so the animals would trouble the Clan people less. They seemed to think that the tame animals were another manifestation of the strange behavior of Others, but Ayla noticed that both Guban and Yorga seemed relieved when the unnaturally complaisant horses were out of sight, and she was pleased that Jondalar had thought of it.

  As soon as he returned, Ayla got her medicine bag out of a pack basket. For all that he had decided to accept her help as a medicine woman, Guban was relieved to see her old Clan-style otter-skin medicine bag, functional and not decorated. She made a point of keeping Wolf out of the way as well, and strangely, the animal, though usually curious and approachable by people whom Ayla and Jondalar had made friends with, showed no inclination to befriend the people of the Clan. He seemed content to stay in the background, watchful, though in no way menacing, and Ayla wondered if he sensed their uneasiness about him.

  Jondalar helped Yorga and Ayla move Guban into the tent. He was surprised at how much the man weighed, but the sheer volume of muscle in a body so strong that six men could barely hold it down, was bound to add weight. Jondalar also realized that the move was very painful, though Guban’s impassive face showed no sign of it. The man’s refusal to admit pain made Jondalar wonder if he felt it as much, until Ayla explained that such stoic denial was ingrained in Clan men from boyhood. Jondalar’s respect for the man increased. His was not a race of weaklings.

  The woman was amazingly strong, too, smaller than the man but not greatly so. She could lift as much as Jondalar could, and when she chose to exert force, the grip of her hand was unbelievably powerful; yet he’d seen her use her hands with fine precision and control. He was becoming intrigued with discovering the similarities between people of the Clan and his own kind, as well as the differences. He wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, but at some point he realized that he no longer questioned in any way the fact that they were human. They were different, certainly, but most definitely the people of the Clan were people, not animals.

  Ayla ended up using a few of the burning stones after all to make a hotter fire to prepare the datura more quickly, adding hot cooking stones directly to the water to make it boil. But Guban resisted drinking all that she felt he should, claiming that he didn’t like the idea of waiting too long for its effects to wear off, but she wondered if part of the problem was his doubt whether she could prepare the datura properly. With help from both Yorga and Jondalar, Ayla set the leg, and then made a sturdy splint. When it was all over, Guban finally slept.

  Yorga insisted on making the meal, although Jondalar’s interest in the processes and tastes embarrassed her. At night, by the fire, he began whittling out a pair of crutches for Guban, while Ayla enjoyed getting acquainted with Yorga and explained to her how to make medicine for pain. Ayla described the use of crutches and the need for padding under the arms. Yorga was constantly surprised at Ayla’s knowledge of the Clan and Clan ways, but she had noticed her Clan “accent” earlier. Eventually she told Ayla about herself, and Ayla translated for Jondalar.

  Yorga wanted to get inner bark and tap certain trees. Guban had come along to protect her because so many women had been attacked by Charoli’s band that no women were allowed to go out alone anymore, which was a hardship on the clan. Men had less time to hunt since they had to spend time accompanying women. That was why Guban decided to climb the big rock, to look for animals to hunt while Yorga collected inner bark. Charoli’s men probably thought she was alone, and they might not have attacked if they had seen Guban, but when he saw them attack her, he jumped off the wall to her defense.

  “I’m surprised all he broke was one leg,” Jondalar said, looking up at the top of the wall.

  “Clan bones are very heavy,” Ayla said, “and thick. They don’t break very easily.”

  “Those men didn’t have to be so rough with me,” Yorga commented, with signs. “I would have assumed the position if they had given me the signal, and if I hadn’t heard his scream. I knew something was very wrong then.”

  She continued with the story. Several men attacked Guban, while three tried to force Yorga. From his scream of pain, she knew something was wrong with Guban, so she tried to get away from the men. That’s when the other two held her down. Then suddenly Jondalar was there, hitting the men of the Others, and the wolf jumped at them and was biting them.

  She looked at Ayla slyly. “Your man is very tall, and his nose is very small, but when I saw him there fighting the other men, this woman could think of him as a child.”

  Ayla looked puzzled, and then she smiled.

  “I didn’t quite understand what she said, or what she meant,” Jondalar said.

  “She made a little joke.”

  “A joke?” he said. He didn’t think they were capable of making jokes.

  “What she said, more or less, is that even though you are an ugly man, when you came to her rescue, she could have kissed you,” Ayla said, then explained to Yorga.

  The woman looked embarrassed, but glanced toward Jondalar, then looked again at Ayla. “I am grateful to your tall man. Perhaps, if the child I carry is a boy, and if Guban will allow me to suggest a name, I will say to him, Dyondar is not such a bad name.”

  “That wasn’t a joke, was it, Ayla?” Jondalar said, surprised at the sudden rush of feeling.

  “No, I don’t think that was a joke, but she can only suggest, and it could be a difficult name for a boy of the Clan to grow up with because it’s unusual. Guban might be willing, though. He’s exceptionally open to new ideas, for a man of the Clan
. Yorga told me about their mating, and I think they fell in love, which is quite rare. Most matings are planned and arranged.”

  “What makes you think they fell in love?” Jondalar asked. He was interested in hearing a Clan love story.

  “Yorga is Guban’s second woman. Her clan lives quite far from here, but he went there to bring word of a large Clan Gathering, and plans to discuss us, the Others. Charoli bothering their women, for one thing—I told her about the Losadunai plans to put a stop to them—but if I understand it right, some group of Others have approached a couple of clans about some trading.”

  “That’s a surprise!”

  “Yes. Communication is the biggest problem, but men of the Clan, including Guban, don’t trust the Others. While Guban was visiting the distant clan, he saw Yorga, and she saw him. Guban wanted her, but the reason he gave was to establish closer ties with some of the distant clans, so they could share news, particularly about all these new ideas. He brought her back with him! Men of the Clan don’t do that. Most of them would have made an intention known to the leader, returned and discussed it with his own clan, and given his first woman a chance to get used to the idea of sharing her hearth with another woman,” Ayla said.

  “The first woman at his hearth didn’t know? That’s a brave man,” Jondalar said.

  “His first woman had two daughters; he wants a woman who will make a son. Men of the Clan put great store in the sons of their mates, and, of course, Yorga hopes the baby she is carrying will be the boy he wants. She has had some trouble getting used to the new clan—they’ve been slow to accept her—and if Guban’s leg doesn’t heal properly, and he loses status, she’s afraid they will blame her.”

  “No wonder she seemed so upset.”

  Ayla refrained from mentioning to Jondalar that she had told Yorga she was on her way to her man’s home, away from her people, too. She didn’t see any reason to add to his worries, but she was still concerned about how his people would accept her.