The Earth's Children Series 6-Book Bundle

by Jean M. Auel

  “I’d been making the signal to Jondalar, but it didn’t mean anything to him. Later he showed me Pleasures again, because he wanted to, not because I did, and I kept thinking he would never understand my signals, when I wanted him again. I finally asked to speak to him the way the women of the Clan do. He didn’t understand what I wanted when I sat down in front of him and bowed my head, waiting for him to tell me I could speak. Finally I just tried to tell him. When he understood the gist of it, he thought I wanted him to do it right away, and we had just finished. He said something like he didn’t know if he could, but he would try. As it turned out, he didn’t have any problem,” Ayla said, smiling at her own innocence.

  Zelandoni smiled, too. “He always was an obliging fellow,” she said.

  “I loved him the first time I saw him, before I even knew him, but he was so good to me, Zelandoni, especially when he showed me the Mother’s Gift of Pleasures. I asked him once how he could know things about me that I didn’t know about myself. He finally admitted that someone had taught him, an older woman, but I could tell he was greatly troubled. He really loved you, you know,” Ayla said. “He still does, in his way.”

  “I loved him, too, and I still do, in my way. But I don’t think he ever loved me the way he loves you.”

  “But I’ve been gone so much, especially at night. I’m surprised that I’m pregnant.”

  “Maybe you are wrong about his essence mixing with yours inside you, Ayla. Maybe new life is started by the Great Mother choosing a man’s spirit and blending it with yours,” Zelandoni said, with a wry smile.

  “No. I think I know when this one was started.” Ayla smiled. “I came home early one night, I just couldn’t concentrate, and I forgot to make my special tea. Now I’m starting to love rain, especially at night, when I have to come in because I can’t see anything anyway. I’ll be glad when this watching year is over.” The young woman studied her mentor, then asked the question she had wanted to ask. “You said you had thought about mating. Why didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I almost did mate once, but he was killed in a hunting accident. After he died, I buried myself in the training. No one else ever made me want to mate … except Jondalar. There was a time when I did consider him—he was so insistent, and he can be very persuasive—but you know it was forbidden. I was his donii-woman and, besides, he was so young. We would probably have had to move away from the Ninth Cave, and it might have been hard to find a place. I felt that it would be unfair to him; his family has always been important to him. It was hard enough for him to go to live with Dalanar,” the Donier said. “And I didn’t want to leave, either. Did you know I was selected for the zelandonia and started my training before I was a woman? I’m not sure when I finally realized that the zelandonia was more important to me than mating. And it’s just as well. I have never been Blessed by Doni. I’m afraid I would have been a childless mate.”

  “I know the Second had children, but I don’t think I have ever seen a zelandoni who was pregnant,” Ayla said.

  “Some become pregnant,” Zelandoni said. “They usually arrange to lose it in the first few moons, before they get very big. Some will carry a child full term, then give it to another woman to raise, often a barren woman who desperately wants a child. The mated ones usually keep the child, but few Zelandonia women are mated. It’s easier for the men. They can leave most of the child care to their mates. You know how difficult it can be. The demands of a mated woman, especially if she becomes a mother, often conflict with the needs of the zelandonia.”

  “Yes, I know,” Ayla said.

  All the people of the Ninth Cave were in a state of excited anticipation. They would be leaving for the Summer Meeting the next day and everyone was busily packing in the final rush of getting ready to leave. Ayla was helping Jondalar and Jonayla pack, deciding what to leave behind, what to take, and where to pack it, partly because she wanted to spend more time with them. Marthona was with them, too. This was the first time that she would not be going with her Cave to a Summer Meeting; she couldn’t walk very far anymore. She wanted to be around when they packed so she wouldn’t feel entirely left out. Ayla wished she didn’t have to stay back from the Meeting, but she was worried about Marthona and was glad she would be there to look after her.

  Her mind was as alert as ever, but the woman’s health was failing, and she was so crippled with arthritis, sometimes she could hardly walk or even work on her loom. I can go later, after the Summer Longday, Ayla thought. She loved the woman as both a friend and a mother, and enjoyed her thoughtful wisdom and not-always-so-gentle wit. It would be a good opportunity to spend more time with her. Ayla thought of it as compensation for missing the Summer Meeting, even part of it. She resolved to find ways to be with her family more often when they got back, but if she didn’t finish her project of Marking the Moon and Sun this year, she would have to start all over again another year, and she had only until a little past the Summer Longday to go. She had returned early last year to start on the project.

  The most difficult time to make a record had been during the winter. Some days it was so stormy it was impossible to see the sun or the moon, but it had been clear during the Winter Shortday and both the Fall Sameday and the Spring Sameday, which was a good sign. Zelandoni had helped her with the Fall Sameday. They had both stayed awake more than a day and night, using special wicks in a sacred lamp to determine that sunup to sundown was the same length as the following sundown to sunup. Ayla had done it the following Spring Sameday, with Zelandoni overseeing her. Since she had been fortunate enough to see the most important moments during the cold seasons, she didn’t want to give it up now.

  “Sometimes I wish we didn’t have the horses and their pole-drags,” Jondalar said. “It would actually be easier if all we had to worry about was what we could carry on our backs. Then we wouldn’t have all our friends and relatives asking if we could just take a few things. All those few things can make a big load.”

  “You won’t have Whinney this year, so you have to tell people that you don’t have as much room,” Ayla said.

  “I have told them, but all they can see is the ‘little’ space their things would take, and surely with two horses, there must be enough room,” Jondalar said.

  “Just tell them no, Jondy,” Jonayla said. “That’s what I tell anyone who asks me.”

  “That’s a good idea, Jonayla,” said Marthona, “but didn’t you ask to pack some things for Sethona?”

  “But, grandam, she’s my close cousin, and my best friend,” Jonayla said, sounding a little indignant.

  “Everyone in the Ninth Cave has become my ‘best friend’ or would like to think so,” Jondalar said. “It’s not so easy saying no. Sometimes I may want to ask a favor of someone, but what he’ll remember is that I said no when all he wanted was to have a few of his things carried by one of the horses.”

  “If the things aren’t all that much, why can’t they carry them themselves?” Jonayla asked.

  “That’s just the point. They’re not always so little. It’s usually the bulky and the heavy things they want carried, things they probably wouldn’t even take if they had to carry them by themselves,” Jondalar said.

  The next morning, Ayla accompanied the Ninth Cave part of the way, riding Whinney. “When do you think you’ll be able to join us?” Jondalar asked.

  “Sometime after the Summer Longday, but I’m not sure how long,” Ayla said. “I am a little worried about Marthona. It may depend on how she feels, and who has come back to help her. When do you think Willamar will return?”

  “It depends on where people have decided to hold their Summer Meetings. He hasn’t made many long trips since your Donier Tour but he planned a longer than usual trip this year. He said he wanted to visit as many people as he could, both outlying Zelandonii and others. Several people went with him, and he was going to pick up a few more from other Caves along the way. This may be his last long trading circuit,” Jondalar said.

  �
�I thought that’s what he said when he came along on my Donier Tour,” Ayla said.

  “He’s been saying that every year for some time.”

  “I think he’s finally going to name a new Trade Master, and he can’t decide which one of his apprentices to choose. He’s going to be observing them on this trip,” Jondalar said.

  “I think he should name both of them.”

  “I’ll try to come back for a visit, but I’m going to be busy. I need to make arrangements to enlarge our place so Marthona and Willamar can move in with us in the fall.”

  Ayla turned to her daughter, and they embraced. “Be good, Jonayla. Mind Jondalar, and help Proleva,” she said.

  “I will, mother. I wish you were coming with us.”

  “I wish I were, too, Jonayla. I’m going to miss you,” Ayla said.

  She and Jondalar kissed, and she clung to him for a moment. “I’ll miss you, too, Jondalar. I will even miss Racer and Gray.” She gave each horse farewell strokes and a hug around the neck. “And I’m sure Whinney will, and Wolf, too.”

  Jonayla patted Whinney and scratched a favorite place, then bent down and gave Wolf a big hug. The animal wriggled with pleasure, and licked her face. “Can’t we take Wolf with us, mother? I’m going to miss him so much,” Jonayla asked, trying one last time.

  “Then I would miss him, Jonayla. No, I think it’s best if he stays here. You’ll see him later in the summer,” Ayla said.

  Jondalar picked up Jonayla and put her on Gray. She could count six years now, and could mount the horse herself, if there was a stone or a stump nearby, but she still needed help out in the open. Jondalar mounted Racer, and taking Gray’s lead rope, they quickly caught up with the rest. Ayla could not stop the tears as she stood with Whinney and Wolf watching Jondalar and Jonayla riding away from her.

  Finally Ayla leaped up on the back of her dun-yellow mare. She rode partway, back toward home, then stopped and turned to look again at the departing Ninth Cave. They were moving along at a steady pace, strung out in a ragged line. At the rear she saw Jonayla and Jondalar on their horses, pulling the pole-drags.

  The Summer Meeting was being held at the same place it had been held when Ayla first came. She had liked that location and hoped that Joharran would select the same site that the Ninth Cave had used for their camp when they were there before, if no one else had taken it. Joharran had always liked being in the thick of things, and the campsite was somewhat away from the major activities, but in the past few years, he had begun to select campsites that were closer to the edge so the horses wouldn’t be surrounded by people. And he was learning to like having the space to spread out. If he chose the old campsite, there was plenty of room for their much larger than usual Cave to spread out, and a good place for the horses as well. And she could close her eyes and imagine them there. Ayla watched the people leaving for some time, then turned Whinney, signaled Wolf, and went back to the Ninth Cave.

  Ayla hadn’t known how lonely the huge abri could be with so many people gone, even though some people from the nearby Caves had come to stay there. Most of the dwellings were closed up, and the abri had a deserted look. Tools and equipment from the large work area had been dismantled and taken along or put away, leaving empty spaces. Marthona’s loom was one of the few remaining pieces of apparatus.

  Ayla had asked Marthona to move in with them. She wanted to be nearby if Jondalar’s mother needed help, especially at night, and the woman was quick to agree. Since she and Willamar were already planning to move in with them in the fall, it gave Marthona a chance to select which things she wanted to keep and which to give away; she couldn’t move them all over to the smaller accommodations. They talked long together, and Marthona discovered a reason for happiness when she learned that Ayla was pregnant again.

  Most of the people left behind were old or incapacitated in some way. Among them was a hunter with a broken leg, another recovering from a goring he suffered at the horns of an aurochs bull that had turned on him suddenly, and a pregnant woman who had already miscarried three times and been told that she had to stay off her feet if she ever expected to carry a baby full term. Her mother and her mate were staying with her.

  “I am glad you are going to be here this summer, Ayla,” Jeviva, the pregnant woman’s mother, said. “Jeralda held her last one almost six moons, until Madroman came around. He told her to exercise. I think the reason she lost it was his fault. At least you know something about pregnancy—you’ve had a child of your own.”

  Ayla looked at Marthona, wondering if she knew anything about Madroman treating Jeralda. She hadn’t heard anything. He had moved back to the Ninth Cave last year and brought many of his things with him as if he planned to stay for a while; then just a Moon or so ago, he left abruptly. A runner from another Cave had come to ask Ayla for help for someone who had broken his arm; her skill with fixing bones had spread wide. She stayed several days and when she returned, Madroman was gone.

  “How far along is Jeralda now?” Ayla asked.

  “Her moontimes were not regular and she was spotting blood so we weren’t paying much attention and aren’t sure when this life started. I think she’s bigger than she was when she lost the last one, but maybe I’m just wishing,” Jeviva said.

  “I’ll come by tomorrow and examine her, and see what I can find out, though I don’t know if I’ll be able to tell much. Did Zelandoni say anything about why she lost her first three?” Ayla asked.

  “All she said is that Jeralda has a slippery womb and tends to drop them too easily. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with the last one, except that he was born too soon. He was alive when he was born and lived a day or so, then just stopped breathing.” The woman turned her head aside and wiped away a tear.

  Jeralda put her arm around her mother, and then her mate held her and her mother for a moment. Ayla watched the small family as they joined together in their remembered grief. She hoped this pregnancy would turn out to be more successful.

  Joharran had designated two men to stay behind to hunt for the people left at the Ninth Cave and generally to help out where they could; they would be replaced in a Moon or so. There was also one hunter who had volunteered to stay, the mate of the pregnant woman who was having difficulties. The others had been unlucky enough to lose at the competitive games the leader had arranged to decide who had to remain behind. The older one was called Lorigan, and the younger, Forason. They had grumbled about it but since they would not have to take a turn in the competition the next year, they accepted their fate.

  Ayla often joined the men on their hunts and enjoyed it, and just as often went out on her own with Whinney and Wolf. She hadn’t hunted for some time, but she hadn’t lost her skills. Forason, who was quite young, wasn’t sure of the hunting ability of the Donier’s acolyte in the beginning, and thought she’d get in the way, especially since she insisted on bringing the wolf. Lorigan only smiled. By the end of the first day, the young man was overwhelmed at her prowess with both spear-thrower and sling, and surprised at how well the animal worked with them. When they were returning, the older man explained to the youngster that it was she and Jondalar who had developed the spear-thrower and brought it with them when they returned from their Journey. Forason had the good sense to be embarrassed.

  But, for the most part, Ayla stayed near the large abri. Those who were there usually shared their evening meal together. It tended to make the emptiness of the large area seem less when they were all together around one fire. The aged and infirm were overjoyed to have a real healer there to care for them. It gave them an unaccustomed sense of security. Most summers, instructions were left with those who were more fit or with the hunters. At most, there might be an acolyte who was staying behind for a similar reason that Ayla was, but generally not one so skilled.

  Ayla fell into a routine. She slept late in the morning; then in the afternoon she visited with each person, listened to their complaints, gave them medicines or made poultices, or did whatever
she could to make them feel better. It helped make the time pass for her. They all became closer, exchanged stories of their lives, or told stories they had heard. Ayla practiced telling the Elder Legends and the Histories she was learning, and told incidents from her early life, both of which people loved hearing. She still spoke with her unusual accent, but they were so accustomed to it, they didn’t really hear it anymore, except that it tended to give her an appealing sense of the mysterious and exotic. They had fully accepted her as one of them, but they loved to tell stories about her to others because she was so unusual, and by association it made them feel special.

  As they sat together in the warm sun of the late afternoon, Ayla’s stories were in particular demand. She had led such an interesting life, and they never seemed to tire of asking her questions about the Clan or of asking her to show them how they would say certain words, or concepts. They also loved to hear the familiar songs and stories they had grown up with. Many of the older people knew some of the Legends as well as she, and were quick to point out any mistakes, but since several of the older ones came from other Caves, and each often had their own versions, there would be discussions or sometimes arguments about which interpretation was more correct. Ayla didn’t mind. She was interested in the various renderings, and the discussions helped her to remember even better. It was a quiet, slow-paced time. The ones who were able often went out and gathered the fruits, vegetables, nuts, and seeds in season, to supplement their meals and to store for the winter.

  Just before sunset each evening, Ayla climbed to the top of the cliff with the flat palmate sections of antler she had been marking. She had gotten in the habit of leaving Wolf with Marthona at night, showing her how to send Wolf to get her if she needed help. Ayla watched as the sun continued its almost imperceptible movement, setting just a little farther toward the right on the western horizon each night.