The Earth's Children Series 6-Book Bundle

by Jean M. Auel

  “Mountains rose up spouting flames from their crests,

  She nurtured Her son from Her mountainous breasts.

  He suckled so hard, the sparks flew so high,

  The Mother’s hot milk laid a path through the sky.”

  “His life had begun. She nourished Her son.”

  This story seems so familiar, Ayla thought. She shook her head as though trying to make something fall into place. Jondalar, he told me some of this on our Journey here.

  “He laughed and he played, and he grew big and bright.

  He lit up the darkness, the Mother’s delight.

  She lavished Her love, he grew bright and strong,

  But soon he matured, not a child for long.”

  “Her son was near grown. His mind was his own.”

  “She took from the source for the life She’d begun.

  Now the cold empty void was enticing Her son.

  The Mother gave love, but the youth longed for more,

  For knowledge, excitement, to travel, explore.”

  “Chaos was Her foe. But Her son yearned to go.”

  Ayla’s mind kept nagging at her. It’s not just Jondalar, she thought. I feel as if I know this, or at least the essence of it. But where could I have learned it? Then something clicked. Losaduna! I memorized all kinds of things he taught me! There was one story like this about the Mother. Jondalar even recited parts of it during that ceremony. It wasn’t exactly the same, and it was in their language, but Losadunai is close to Zelandonii. That’s why I was able to understand what they said so fast! As she listened, she concentrated on bringing the memory of the Mother’s story back and began to feel a sense of the similarities and differences.

  “He stole from Her side as the Great Mother slept,

  While out of the dark swirling void chaos crept.

  With tempting inducements the darkness beguiled.

  Deceived by the whirlwind, chaos captured Her child.”

  “The dark took Her son. The young brilliant one.”

  “The Mother’s bright child, at first overjoyed,

  Was soon overwhelmed by the bleak frigid void.

  Her unwary offspring, consumed with remorse,

  Could not escape the mysterious force.”

  “Chaos would not free. Her rash progeny.”

  “But just as the dark pulled him into the cold,

  The Mother woke up, reached out and caught hold.

  To help Her recover Her radiant son,

  The Mother appealed to the pale shining one.”

  “The Mother held tight. And kept him in sight.”

  Ayla began to smile as she started anticipating the next verse, or at least the essential meaning of it. The Mother Earth tells Her old friend, the Moon, the story of what happened to Her son next, Ayla thought.

  “She welcomed him back, Her lover of old,

  With heartache and sorrow, Her story She told.

  Her dear friend agreed to join in the fight,

  To rescue Her child from his perilous plight.”

  And now the listeners say it their way, Ayla said to herself. That’s how the story is supposed to be told. First the Losaduna, or the Zelandoni, narrates it, then the listeners answer or repeat it another way.

  “She told of Her grief. And the dark swirling thief.”

  Then it’s Zelandoni’s turn again.

  “The Mother was tired, She had to recover,

  She loosened Her hold to Her luminous lover.

  While She was sleeping, he fought the cold force,

  And for a time drove it back to the source.”

  “His spirit was strong. The encounter too long.”

  “Her fair shining friend struggled hard, gave his best,

  The conflict was bitter, the battle hard pressed.

  His vigilance waned as he closed his great eye.

  Then darkness crept close, stole his light from the sky.”

  “Her pale friend was tiring. His light was expiring.”

  “When darkness was total, She woke with a cry.

  The tenebrious void hid the light from the sky.

  She joined in the conflict, was quick to defend,

  And drove the dark shadow away from Her friend.”

  “But the pale face of night. Let Her son out of sight.”

  “Trapped by the whirlwind, Her bright fiery son,

  Gave no warmth to the Earth, cold chaos had won.

  The fertile green life was now ice and snow,

  And a sharp piercing wind continued to blow.”

  “The Earth was bereft. No green plants were left.”

  “The Mother was weary, grieving and worn,

  But She reached out again for the life She had borne.

  She couldn’t give up, She needed to strive,

  For the glorious light of Her son to survive.”

  “She continued the fight. To bring back the light.”

  “And Her luminous friend was prepared to contest,

  The thief who held captive the child of Her breast.

  Together they fought for the son She adored.

  Their efforts succeeded, his light was restored.”

  “His energy burned. His brilliance returned.”

  The Great Mother Earth and the Moon have brought the Sun back, but not all the way; Ayla was again anticipating.

  “But the bleak frigid dark craved his bright glowing heat.

  The Mother defended and would not retreat.

  The whirlwind pulled hard, She refused to let go.

  She fought to a draw with Her dark swirling foe.”

  “She held darkness at bay. But Her son was away.”

  Was the Zelandonii version longer than the Losadunai story? Or did it just seem that way? Maybe singing the story makes it seem longer, but I really like the singing. I wish I understood it more. I think the songs change sometimes, the singing of some verses doesn’t sound the same as other verses.

  “When She fought the whirlwind and made chaos flee,

  The light from Her son glowed with vitality.

  When the Mother grew tired, the bleak void held sway,

  And darkness returned at the end of the day.”

  “She felt warmth from Her son. But neither had won.”

  “The Great Mother lived with the pain in Her heart,

  That She and Her son were forever apart.

  She ached for the child that had been denied,

  So She quickened once more from the life-force inside.”

  “She was not reconciled. To the loss of Her child.”

  “When She was ready, Her waters of birth,

  Brought back the green life to the cold barren Earth.

  And the tears of Her loss, abundantly spilled,

  Made dew drops that sparkled and rainbows that thrilled.”

  “Birth waters brought green. But Her tears could be seen.”

  I really like this next part, but I wonder how Zelandoni will sing it, Ayla thought.

  “With a thunderous roar Her stones split asunder,

  And from the great cave that opened deep under,

  She birthed once again from Her cavernous room,

  And brought forth the Children of Earth from Her womb.”

  “From the Mother forlorn, more children were born.”

  “Each child was different, some were large and some small,

  Some could walk and some fly, some could swim and some crawl.

  But each form was perfect, each spirit complete,

  Each one was a model whose shape could repeat.”

  “The Mother was willing. The green earth was filling.”

  “All the birds and the fish and the animals born,

  Would not leave the Mother, this time, to mourn.

  Each kind would live near the place of its birth,

  And share the expanse of the Great Mother Earth.”

  “Close to Her they would stay. They could not run away.”

  “They all were Her children, t
hey filled Her with pride,

  But they used up the life-force She carried inside.

  She had enough left for a last innovation,

  A child who’d remember Who made the creation.”

  “A child who’d respect. And learn to protect.”

  “First Woman was born full-grown and alive,

  And given the Gifts she would need to survive.

  Life was the First Gift, and like Mother Earth,

  She woke to herself knowing life had great worth.”

  “First Woman defined. The first of her kind.”

  “Next was the Gift of Perception, of learning,

  The desire to know, the Gift of Discerning.

  First Woman was given the knowledge within,

  That would help her to live, and pass on to her kin.”

  “First Woman would know. How to learn, how to grow.”

  “Her life-force near gone, The Mother was spent,

  To pass on Life’s Spirit had been Her intent.

  She caused all of Her children to create life anew,

  And Woman was blessed to bring forth life, too.”

  “But Woman was lonely. She was the only.”

  “The Mother remembered Her own loneliness,

  The love of Her friend and his hovering caress.

  With the last spark remaining, Her labor began,

  To share life with Woman, She created First Man.”

  “Again She was giving. One more was living.”

  “To Woman and Man the Mother gave birth,

  And then for their home, She gave them the Earth,

  The water, the land, and all Her creation.

  To use them with care was their obligation.”

  “It was their home to use. But not to abuse.”

  “For the Children of Earth the Mother provided,

  The Gifts to survive, and then She decided,

  To give them the Gift of Pleasure and sharing,

  That honors the Mother with the joy of their pairing.”

  “The Gifts are well-earned. When honor’s returned.”

  “The Mother was pleased with the pair She created,

  She taught them to love and to care when they mated.

  She made them desire to join with each other,

  The Gift of their Pleasures came from the Mother.”

  “Before She was through. Her children loved too.”

  “Earth’s Children were blessed. The Mother could rest.”

  Ayla waited for more, but when there was only silence, she realized the Mother’s Song had come to an end.

  People straggled back to their Caves in twos and threes. Some would not return to their homes until the middle of the night, some made plans to stay with friends or relatives. A few acolytes and Zelandonia remained behind at the gravesite, completing some of the more esoteric aspects of the ceremony, and would not be back until morning.

  Several people went home with Relona and her children and stayed overnight in her dwelling, most sleeping on the floor. It was thought necessary for many people to surround her. The elans of deceased mates had been known to try to return to their homes before they understood that they no longer belonged to this world. The grieving mates were susceptible to invasion by the roaming spirits and needed the protection of many people to ward off malign influences. Older people in particular were sometimes tempted to follow their mates’ elans to the next world shortly after one of them died. Fortunately, Relona was young yet and had young children who needed her.

  Ayla was one of those who stayed with the new widow, and Relona seemed pleased that she did. Jondalar had planned to stay as well, but by the time he completed the last of his ceremonial duties, it was quite late, and when he looked inside the dwelling, there were so many people sprawled out, he couldn’t see any room to squeeze in his large frame. Ayla waved at him from the other side of the room. Wolf was with her, and probably because of him, she had a little more room around her, but when he tried to step around people to reach her, he woke a few up. Marthona, who was closer to the entrance, told him to go home. He felt a bit guilty about it, but was grateful. Overnight vigils to ward off wandering spirits were not something he enjoyed. Besides, he’d had enough dealings with the spirit world for one day, and he was tired. He missed having Ayla beside him when he crawled into his sleeping roll, but he fell asleep quickly.

  When she returned to the Ninth Cave, the One Who Was First went immediately into her dwelling. She would soon be making another Journey to the next world and wanted to meditate, to prepare for it. She took off her chest plaque and turned it around to the plain undecorated side. She did not want any interruptions. She would not only try to guide Shevonar’s spirit to the world beyond, she planned to search for the elan of Thonolan as well, but for that she would need both Jondalar and Ayla.

  Jondalar awoke with a strong urge to make some tools. Although he might not have expressed it as such, he was still feeling uneasy about all the arcane events he’d recently been involved with. Flint-knapping was not only his craft, it was something he enjoyed, and getting his hands on a solid piece of stone was a good way to forget about the ambiguous, intangible, and vaguely ominous spirit world.

  He took out the pack of flint that he had quarried from the Lanzadoni flint mine. Dalanar had looked over the material that Jondalar had extracted from the outcrop, which contained the superior-quality flint that the Lanzadoni were known for. He made specific suggestions regarding what pieces to take with him and helped him trim away excess material, so that all he’d had to carry with him were workable blanks and cores. Horses could carry a great deal more than people, but flint was heavy. There was a limit to the amount of stone that could be taken, but when he examined the flint he had, he appreciated again just how fine it was.

  He selected two of the trimmed stones and put the others back, then brought out his leather bundle of flint-working tools. He untied the cords and laid out several bone and antler hammers and retouchers, and his hammerstones, then picked up each tool and inspected it carefully. Then he wrapped them back up, along with the flint cores. By midmorning he was ready to find a place to work his flint, somewhat out of the way. Chips of flint were very sharp and could be quite erratic in the way they flew. Serious workers of the stone always chose to stay away from the areas where people regularly walked, especially away from the bare feet of running children and their often harried mothers or distracted caretakers.

  Pushing aside the entrance drape, Jondalar walked out of his mother’s dwelling. Looking toward the ledge, he noticed that the sky was overcast and gray. A dreary drizzle kept almost everyone under the rock shelter, and the large open area near the dwellings was in full use. There were no particular times for pursuing individual crafts and interests, but it was the kind of day that many chose to work on their various projects. Windbreaks of panels, or hides strung over cords, were put up to keep out wind and any rain it might blow in, and several fires provided additional light and warmth, though cold drafts made warm clothes essential.

  He smiled when he saw Ayla coming toward him. When they met, he greeted her with a touching of cheeks and noticed her womanly scent. It made him remember that he hadn’t slept with her the night before. He felt a sudden desire to take her back to bed and do more than sleep.

  “I was just going to Marthona’s to look for you,” she said.

  “I woke up with an urge to work the stone I got from Dalanar’s flint mine, to make some new tools,” he said, holding up his familiar leather bundle. “But it looks like everyone wanted to work on something this morning.” He glanced toward the crowded and busy work space. “I don’t think I’ll stay here.”

  “Where will you go to work?” Ayla asked. “I thought I’d see to the horses, but I might come by later and watch.”

  “I think I’ll go Down River. There are usually a lot of toolmakers there,” he said. Then, thinking about it, he added, “Do you want me to help you with the horses?”

  “Not unless
you want to,” Ayla said. “I’m just going to check on them. I don’t think I’ll ride today, but I may take Folara with me and see if she wants to try sitting on Whinney. I told her she could sometime, and she said she’d like to.”

  “It might be fun to see how she does, but I really would like to work on some tools today,” Jondalar said.

  They walked together as far as the working area, then Jondalar went on toward Down River, while Ayla and the wolf stopped to look for Folara. The drizzle had turned to a steady rain, and while she waited for it to let up, she found herself watching first one person and then another as they worked on their various projects. She had always been fascinated with different crafts and skills and was easily distracted. It was a busy but relaxed atmosphere. Certain aspects of every craft required intense concentration, but repetitive elements allowed time to chat and visit. Most people were pleased to answer her questions, show her their techniques, and explain their methods.

  When Ayla saw Folara, she was in the middle of stringing a loom with Marthona and not able to come to a good stopping place easily, though she would have liked to go. Ayla wouldn’t have minded staying to see how the stringing was done, but she felt the horses needed attention. She promised Folara they would visit the horses another time, and when the rain let up, she decided to go out before it started again.

  Whinney and Racer were in fine fettle and delighted to see her and Wolf when she found them, quite a distance back in Wood River Valley. They had discovered a small green meadow in the middle of the forested glen, with a clear spring that had formed a pond and a place under some trees to stand when it rained. The red deer that were sharing it with them broke away at the sight of the woman and the wolf at the same time that the horses neighed and ran toward them.

  Those deer have been hunted, Ayla thought. They might have stopped and eyed Wolf, but it’s not likely that full-grown deer in their prime would run from a single wolf. The wind is taking my scent right to them, and I think they have found more to fear from human hunters.

  The sun had come out, and she found some of the previous year’s dried flower heads of teasel and used the prickly herb top to curry the horses’ coats. When she was done, she noticed Wolf stalking. She reached for her sling, which was tucked into her waist thong, and a pebble from the rocky edge of the pond, and when he scared up a couple of hares, she got one of the large rabbits with her first try. She let Wolf get the other.