The Earth's Children Series 6-Book Bundle

by Jean M. Auel

  Jondalar grinned at the young man. He had thought it might be the younger ones who would be willing to try out his new weapon first, and Morizan’s response was exactly what he had hoped would happen.

  “Good. The more you practice, the better you will get. Ayla and I have been using the spear-thrower for a long time, all during the yearlong Journey back home, and for more than a year before that. As you can see, women can handle a spear-thrower very effectively.”

  They followed Grass River upstream for some distance, then came to a smaller tributary that was called Little Grass River. As they continued upstream along the smaller waterway, Ayla began to notice a change in the air, a cool, moist freshness filled with richer smells. Even the grass was a darker shade of green, and in places the ground was softer. The path skirted marshy areas of tall reeds and cattails as they proceeded through the lush valley and approached a limestone cliff.

  Several people were waiting outside, among them two young women. Ayla grinned when she saw them. They had all mated at the same Matrimonial during last year’s Summer Meeting, and she felt especially close to them.

  “Levela! Janida! I was looking forward to seeing you so much,” she said, walking toward them. “I heard you had both decided to move to the Second Cave.”

  “Ayla!” Levela said. “Welcome to Horsehead Rock. We decided to come here with Kimeran to see you, so we wouldn’t have to wait until you came to visit the Second. It’s so good to see you.”

  “Yes,” Janida concurred. She was considerably younger than the other two women, and rather shy, but her smile was welcoming. “I am glad to see you, too, Ayla.”

  The three women embraced, though they were all rather careful about it. Both Ayla and Janida were carrying infants, and Levela was pregnant.

  “I heard you had a boy, Janida,” Ayla said.

  “Yes, I named him Jeridan,” Janida said, showing her baby.

  “I had a girl. Her name is Jonayla,” Ayla said. The infant was already awake from the commotion and Ayla lifted her out of the carrying blanket as she spoke, then turned to look at the baby boy. “Oh, he’s perfect. May I hold him?”

  “Yes, of course, and I want to hold your daughter,” Janida said.

  “Why don’t I take your baby, Ayla,” Levela said. “Then you can take Jeridan, and I’ll give … Jonayla?” she saw Ayla nod, “to Janida.”

  The women shifted infants and cooed at them, while they looked them over and compared them with their own.

  “You know Levela is pregnant, don’t you?” Janida said.

  “I can see that,” Ayla said. “Do you know how soon you will have yours, Levela? I’d like to come and be here with you, and I’m sure Proleva would, too.”

  “I don’t know for sure, some moons yet. I would love to have you with me, and definitely my sister,” Levela said. “But you won’t need to come here. We’ll probably all be at the Summer Meeting.”

  “You’re right,” Ayla said. “It will be nice for you to have everyone around you. Even Zelandoni the First will be there, and she is wonderful at helping a mother to deliver.”

  “There may be too many,” Janida said. “Everyone likes Levela, and they won’t let everyone stay with you. It would be too crowded. You may not want me; I’m not very experienced, but I would like to be there with you, the way you were with me, Levela. I’ll understand, though, if you would rather have someone that you’ve known longer.”

  “Of course I want you with me, Janida, and Ayla, too. After all, we shared the same Matrimonial, and that’s a special bond,” Levela said.

  Ayla understood the feelings that Janida had expressed. She, too, wondered if Levela would rather have friends she had known longer. Ayla felt a flush of warmth for the young woman, and was surprised at the sting of tears she fought to hold back at Levela’s willing acceptance of her. Growing up, Ayla hadn’t had many friends. Girls of the Clan mated at a young age, and Oga, the one who might have been close, had become Broud’s mate, and he wouldn’t allow her to be too friendly with the girl of the Others that he had come to hate. She loved Iza’s daughter, Uba, her Clan sister, but she was so much younger, she was more like a daughter than a friend. And while the other women had grown to accept her, and even care about her, they never really understood her. It wasn’t until she went to live with the Mamutoi and met Deegie that she understood the fun of having a woman friend her own age.

  “Speaking of Matrimonials and mates, where are Jondecam and Peridal? I think Jondalar feels a special bond for them, too. I know he was looking forward to seeing them,” Ayla said.

  “They want to see him, too,” Levela said. “Jondalar and his spear-throwing weapon is all Jondecam and Peridal have talked about since we knew you were coming.”

  “Did you know that Tishona and Marsheval are living at the Ninth Cave now?” Ayla said, referring to another couple who had mated at the same time as they did. “They tried living at the Fourteenth, but Marsheval was at the Ninth Cave so often—or I should say at Down River learning how to shape mammoth ivory, and staying overnight at the Ninth—that they decided to move.”

  The three Zelandonia were standing back, watching, as the young women continued to chat. The First noticed how easily Ayla fell into conversation with them, comparing babies and talking excitedly about the things that were of interest to young mated women with children, or expecting them. She had begun teaching Ayla some of the rudiments of the knowledge she would need to become a full-fledged Zelandoni, and the young woman was without doubt interested and quick to learn, but the First was now realizing how easily Ayla could get distracted. She’d been holding back, letting Ayla enjoy her new life as a mother and mated woman. Maybe it was time to push her a little harder, get her so involved that she would voluntarily choose to devote more time to learning what she needed to know.

  “We should go, Ayla,” the First said. “I would like you to see the cave before we get too involved with meals and visiting and meeting people.”

  “Yes, we should,” Ayla said. “I left all three horses and Wolf with Jondalar, and we need to get them settled. I’m sure he has people he wants to see, too.”

  They walked toward the steep wall of limestone. The setting sun was shining directly on it and the small fire that had been built nearby was almost invisible in the bright sunlight. A dark hole was visible but not obvious. There were several torches propped against the wall and each of the Zelandonia lit one. Ayla followed the others into the dark hole, shivering as the darkness enveloped her. Inside the cavity in the rock cliff, the air suddenly felt cool and damp, but it wasn’t only the abrupt drop in temperature that chilled her. She hadn’t been there before and Ayla felt a touch of apprehension and trepidation when she entered an unfamiliar cave.

  The opening was not big, but high enough so that no one had to bend over or stoop to enter. She had lit a torch outside and held the light in her left hand high in front of her, reaching for the rough stone wall with her right to steady herself. The warm bundle that she carried close to her chest with the soft carrying blanket was still awake, and she moved her hand from the wall to pat the baby to quiet her. Jonayla probably notices the change in temperature too, Ayla thought, looking around as she moved inside. It was not a large cave but it was naturally divided into separate smaller areas.

  “It’s here in the next room,” said Zelandoni of the Second Cave. She was also a tall blond woman, though somewhat older than Ayla.

  The Zelandoni Who Was First Among Those Who Served The Great Earth Mother stepped aside to let Ayla move in behind the woman who was leading them. “You go ahead. I’ve seen it before,” she said, shifting her considerable size out of the way.

  An older man stepped back with her. “I, too, have seen it before,” he said, “many times.” Ayla had noticed how much the old Zelandoni of the Seventh Cave resembled the woman who was leading the way. He was also tall, though a little stooped, and his hair was more white than blond.

  Zelandoni of the Second Cave held her to
rch up high to cast its light ahead; Ayla did the same. She thought she saw some indistinct images on some of the cave walls as they passed by, but since no one had stopped to point them out, she wasn’t sure. She heard someone begin to hum—a rich, lovely sound—and recognized the voice of her mentor, the Zelandoni Who Was First. Her voice echoed in the small stone chamber, but especially as they entered another room and turned a corner. As the Zelandonia held their torches up to highlight a wall, Ayla gasped.

  She wasn’t prepared for the sight in front of her. The profile of the head of a horse was carved so deeply into the limestone wall of the cave, it appeared to be growing out of it, and so realistically, it almost seemed alive. It was larger than life-size, or else it was a carving of a much larger animal than she had ever seen, but she knew horses and the proportions were perfect. The shape of the muzzle, the eye, the ear, the nose with its flaring nostril, the curve of the mouth and jaw, everything was exactly as it would be in real life. And in the flickering torchlight, it looked as if it were moving, breathing.

  She let out a sobbing burst of air; she had been holding her breath and didn’t realize it. “It’s a perfect horse, except it’s just the head!” Ayla said.

  “That’s why the Seventh Cave is called Horsehead Rock,” the old man said. He was just behind her.

  Ayla stared at the image, feeling a sense of awe and wonder, and reached out to touch the stone, not even questioning whether she should have. She was drawn to it. She held her hand on the side of the jaw, just where she would have touched a living horse, and after a time the cold stone seemed to warm as though it wanted to be alive and come out of the stone wall. She took her hand away, and then put it back. The rock surface still held some warmth, but then it cooled again, and she realized that the First had continued to hum while she touched the stone, but had stopped when she let go.

  “Who made it?” Ayla asked.

  “No one knows,” said the First. She had come in after Zelandoni of the Seventh Cave. “It was made so long ago, no one remembers. One of the Ancients, of course, but we have no legend or history to tell us who.”

  “Perhaps the same carver who made The Mother of Elder Hearth,” said the Zelandoni of the Second Cave.

  “What makes you think so?” asked the old man. “They are entirely different images. One is a woman holding a bison horn in her hand; the other is the head of a horse.”

  “I have studied both carvings. There seems to be a similarity of technique,” she said. “Notice how carefully the nose and the mouth, and the shape of the jaw of this horse are made? When you go there, look at the hips on the Mother, the shape of the belly. I’ve seen women who look just like that, especially those who have had children. Like this horse, the carving of the woman that represents Doni in the cave at Elder Hearth is very true to life.”

  “That’s very perceptive,” said the One Who Was First. “When we go to Elder Hearth, we’ll do as you suggest, and look closely.” They stood quietly, staring at the horse for a while; then the First said, “We should go. There are some other things in here, but we can look at them later. I wanted Ayla to see the Horsehead before we got involved with visiting and such.”

  “I’m glad you did,” Ayla said. “I didn’t know carvings in stone could look so real.”

  3

  “There you are!” Kimeran said, getting up from a stone seat on the ledge in front of the shelter of the Seventh Cave to greet Ayla and Jondalar, who had just climbed up the path. Wolf followed behind them and Jonayla was awake and propped up on Ayla’s hip. “We knew you had come, and then no one knew where you were.”

  Jondalar’s old friend Kimeran, the leader of Elder Hearth, the Second Cave of the Zelandonii, had been waiting for him. The very tall light-haired man bore a superficial resemblance to six-foot-six-inch Jondalar with his pale yellow hair. Though many men were tall—over six feet—both Jondalar and Kimeran had towered over their other age-mates at their puberty rites. They were drawn to each other and quickly became friends. Kimeran was also the brother of the Zelandoni of the Second Cave, and the uncle of Jondecam but more like a brother. His sister was quite a bit older, and she had raised him after their mother died, along with her own son and daughter. Her mate had also passed on to the next world, and not long afterward she began training for the zelandonia.

  “The First wanted Ayla to see your Horsehead, and then we needed to get our horses settled,” Jondalar said.

  “They are going to love your field. The grass is so green and rich,” Ayla added.

  “We call it Sweet Valley. The Little Grass River runs through the middle of it, and the floodplain has widened into a large field. It can get marshy in spring from snowmelt, and when the rains come in fall, but in summer when everything else is dried out, that field stays fresh and green,” Kimeran said, as they continued walking toward the living space beneath the overhanging upper shelf. “It attracts a nice procession of grazers through here all summer long and makes hunting easy. Either the Second or the Seventh Cave always has someone watching.”

  They approached more people. “You remember Sergenor, the leader of the Seventh Cave, don’t you?” Kimeran said to the visiting couple, indicating a middle-aged dark-haired man who had been standing back eyeing the wolf warily, and letting the younger leader greet his friends.

  “Yes, of course,” Jondalar said, noting his apprehension, and thinking that this visit might be a good time to help people get more comfortable around Wolf. “I remember when Sergenor used to come to talk to Marthona when he was first chosen as leader of the Seventh. You have met Ayla, I believe.”

  “I was one of the many to whom she was introduced last year when you first arrived, but I haven’t had a chance to greet her personally,” Sergenor said. He held out both hands, palms up. “In the name of Doni, I welcome you to the Seventh Cave of the Zelandonii, Ayla of the Ninth Cave. I know you have many other names and ties, some quite unusual, but I will admit, I don’t remember them.”

  Ayla grasped both of his hands in hers. “I am Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii,” she began, “acolyte to Zelandoni of the Ninth Cave, First Among Those Who Serve”; then she hesitated, wondering how many of Jondalar’s ties to mention. At the Matrimonial Ceremony last summer, all of Jondalar’s names and ties were added to hers, and it made for a very long recitation, but it was only during the most formal of ceremonies that the whole list was required. Since this was her official meeting of the leader of the Seventh Cave, she wanted to make the introduction formal, but not go on and on.

  She decided to cite the closest of his ties and continue with her own, including her previous ties. She finished with the appellations that had been added in a more lighthearted vein, but that she liked to use. “Friend of the horses, Whinney, Racer, and Gray, and the four-legged hunter, Wolf. In the name of the Great Mother of all, I greet you, Sergenor, leader of the Seventh Cave of the Zelandonii, and I would like to thank you for inviting us to Horsehead Rock.”

  She is definitely not a Zelandonii, Sergenor thought, as he heard her speak. She may have Jondalar’s names and ties, but she’s a foreigner with foreign customs, especially about animals. As he dropped her hands, he eyed the wolf, who had come closer.

  Ayla saw his uneasiness around the big carnivore. She had noticed that Kimeran was not particularly comfortable near the animal either, though he had been introduced to Wolf last year shortly after they arrived, and he had seen him several times. Neither of the leaders was accustomed to seeing a hunting meat-eater moving so easily among people. Her thoughts were similar to Jondalar’s: this might be a good time to get them more accustomed to Wolf.

  The people of the Seventh Cave were noticing that the couple everyone talked about from the Ninth Cave had arrived, and more people were coming to see the woman with the wolf. All the nearby Caves had known within a day when Jondalar returned from his five-year-long Journey the summer before. Arriving on horseback with a foreign woman guaranteed it. They had met people from most of the nearby
Caves at the Ninth Cave when they came to visit, or at the last Summer Meeting, but this was the first time they had paid a visit to the Seventh or the Second Cave.

  Ayla and Jondalar had planned to go the previous fall, but never quite made it. It wasn’t that their Caves were so far away from each other, but something always seemed to interfere, and then winter was upon them, and Ayla was getting along in her pregnancy. All the delayed expectation had made their visit an occasion, especially since the First had decided to have a meeting here with the local zelandonia at the same time.

  “Whoever carved the Horsehead in the cave below must have known horses. It is very well made,” Ayla said.

  “I always thought so, but it is nice to hear it from someone who knows horses as well as you do,” Sergenor said.

  Wolf was sitting back on his haunches with his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth, eyeing the man, his bent ear giving him a cocky, self-satisfied look. Ayla knew he was expecting to be introduced. He had watched her greet the leader of the Seventh Cave and he had come to expect to be presented to any stranger that she greeted in that way.

  “I also want to thank you for allowing me to bring Wolf. He’s always unhappy if he can’t be near me, and now he feels that way about Jonayla, since he loves children so much,” Ayla said.

  “That wolf loves children?” Sergenor said.

  “Wolf didn’t grow up with other wolves, he was raised with the Mamutoi children of the Lion Camp and thinks of people as his pack, and all wolves love the young of their packs,” Ayla said. “He saw me greet you and now he expects to meet you. He has learned to accept anyone that I introduce him to.”

  Sergenor frowned. “How do you introduce a wolf?” he said. He glanced at Kimeran and saw him grinning.

  The younger man was remembering his introduction to Wolf, and though he might still be somewhat nervous around the carnivore, he was rather enjoying the older man’s discomfiture.