by Jean M. Auel
“Greetings, Zelandoni Who Is First,” Mardena said, feeling a little nervous to be talking to the huge woman who was sitting on a raised stool. It was similar to the one she used in the zelandonia lodge, but it was left at the Camp for when she wanted to spend time with her Cave.
“And welcome to you, too, Lanidar,” the First said. There was a warmth in her tone when the donier spoke to her son that Mardena had never heard from the powerful woman. “Though I understand you were here yesterday.”
“Yes,” he said. “Ayla showed me the horses.”
“She tells me you can whistle very well,” Zelandoni said.
“She taught me some birdsongs.”
“Would you like to show me?”
“If you want. I’ve been practicing the meadow lark,” he said, then proceeded to imitate the beautiful sound. Everyone turned to look, even his mother and grandmother.
“That’s very good, young man,” Jondalar said, beaming at the youngster. “It’s nearly as good as Ayla’s meadow lark.”
“We’re ready,” Proleva called. “Come and eat.”
Ayla led the three guests to the pile of bone-and-wood platters first and urged them to try everything. Then everyone else fell into line. Usually, those who shared a lodge had their morning meal together, but this had become the first of what would be many meals that would be shared, not only with their own Cave, but with other friends and relatives. There would even be a few occasions when the entire Summer Meeting would all feast together, but that would involve a great deal of organizing and planning. One of them would be the Matrimonial Feast.
When everyone was through eating, people started leaving for various other activities, but most of them stopped by to say a few words to their guests. Mardena was feeling a little flustered with all the attention, but she also felt a glow of warmth. She couldn’t remember ever being treated so well. Proleva came to talk to them and said a few words to Mardena and Denoda, then turned to Ayla.
“We’ll finish up here, Ayla. I think you have something you want to talk to Mardena about,” she said.
“Yes. Would you and Lanidar, and Denoda if she wants, like to take a walk with me?”
“Where are we going?” Mardena said with a touch of edginess.
“To see some horses,” Ayla said.
“Can I come along, Ayla?” Folara said. “If you don’t want me to, just go ahead and say so, but I haven’t seen the horses for a while.”
Ayla smiled. “Of course you can,” she said. It might actually make it easier to get Mardena to agree to let Lanidar watch them if someone so friendly and unafraid of them was there. She turned to look for the boy and saw him sitting next to Lanoga, who was holding Lorala, and they seemed to be talking easily. Tremeda’s two-year boy was sitting on the ground nearby.
As they headed in their direction, Mardena asked, “Who is that girl? Or is she a woman? She seems very young to have a baby that age.”
“Too young, for certain. She hasn’t even had First Rites,” Ayla said. “That’s her sister, and the other one, the two-year, is her brother, but as far as the babies are concerned, Lanoga is their mother.”
“I don’t understand,” Mardena said.
“I’m sure you’ve heard of Laramar? He’s the one who makes the barma?” Folara said.
“Yes,” Mardena said.
“Everyone has,” Denoda said.
“Then perhaps you’ve heard of his mate, Tremeda. She does nothing but drink the barma he makes, and have children that she won’t take care of,” Folara said, full of derision.
“Or can’t,” Ayla said. “She can’t seem to stop herself from drinking the barma, either.”
“And Laramar is often drunk and just as irresponsible. He doesn’t even care about the children of his hearth,” Folara said with disgust. “Ayla found out that Tremeda had lost her milk, and Lanoga was trying to feed Lorala on nothing but mashed-up roots because that’s all she knew how to make. Ayla got several of the new mothers to agree to nurse the baby, but Lanoga is still the one who takes care of her, and all the rest of Tremeda’s children. Ayla showed her how to make other food that babies can eat, and she’s the one who takes Lorala to the other mothers to nurse. She’s really an amazing girl, and will be a wonderful mate and mother someday, but who knows if she’ll ever find a mate? Laramar and Tremeda have the last-ranked hearth in our Cave. Who would be willing to mate the daughter of that hearth?”
Mardena and Denoda stared at the talkative young woman. Most people liked to gossip, but they were not usually so open about the ones who were an embarrassment to their own Cave. Denoda’s rank had slipped since her daughter gave birth to Lanidar, and her mate had severed the knot. They weren’t the lowest, but not far from it. Their Cave was much smaller, however. To be the last of such a large Cave was a low rank. But even if we were the first ranked, Lanidar will have trouble finding a mate, because of his affliction, Denoda thought.
“Would you like to go see some horses, Lanidar?” Ayla asked as they approached. “You can come, too, Lanoga.”
“No, I can’t. It’s Stelona’s turn to feed Lorala, and she’s getting hungry. I didn’t want to give her too much food until after she nurses.”
“Maybe another time,” Ayla said, smiling affectionately. “Are you ready, Lanidar?”
“Yes,” he said, then he turned to the girl. “I have to go, Lanoga.” She smiled shyly at him, and he smiled back.
As they passed by her lodge, Ayla said, “Lanidar, will you get that bowl over there? It has some horse food in it, pieces of wild carrot and some grains.” He ran to get it.
Ayla noticed that he carried the bowl on his right side, supported against his body with his crippled arm, and she had an unexpected memory of Creb holding a bowl of red ochre paste against his body with the arm that had been amputated at the elbow, just before he named her son and accepted him into the clan. It brought a smile of joy and pain. Mardena was watching her and wondered. Denoda had noticed her expression, too, and wasn’t as shy about mentioning it.
“You looked at Lanidar with such a strange smile,” she said.
“He reminds me of someone I used to know,” Ayla said. “A man who was missing the lower part of his arm. He had been attacked by a cave bear when he was a child. His grand mother was a healer, and she had to cut it off because it was poisoning his body. He would have died if she hadn’t.”
“What a terrible thing!” Denoda said.
“Yes, it was. He was blinded in one eye, too, by that attack, and his leg was hurt. He had to walk with a stick from then on.”
“The poor boy. He had to be taken care of the rest of his life, I suppose,” Mardena said.
“No,” Ayla said. “He made a valuable contribution to his people.”
“How did he manage? What did he do?”
“He became a great man, a mog-ur—that’s like a Zelandoni—and he was recognized as the First. He and his sister were the ones who took care of me after my own family died. He was the man of my hearth, and I loved him very much,” Ayla said.
Mardena was looking at her with jaw agape and her eyes open wide. She could hardly believe the woman, but why would someone he about something like that?
As Ayla talked, Denoda became particularly conscious of her unusual accent, but the story made her understand why she seemed to have taken a liking to Lanidar. When she mates, she is going to be related to some very powerful people, and if she likes him, she could help him a lot. This woman might be the best thing that ever happened to the boy, she thought.
Lanidar had been listening, too. Maybe I could learn to hunt, he thought, even if I only have one good arm. Maybe I could learn to do something besides picking berries.
They were approaching a construction that was like a surround, except that it didn’t seem particularly sturdy. It was made of long, thin, straight alder and willow poles lashed together in horizontal Xs with other poles across the top, attached to shorter, somewhat sturdier poles sunk into the groun
d. Bushes and tree branches, already drying out, loosely filled in the spaces between. If a herd of bison, for example, or even a large male—six feet six inches at the top of the hump on his shoulders, with long black horns—tried to break out, the enclosure would not have held. Even the horses could likely break it down, if they were determined.
“Do you remember how to whistle to call Racer, Lanidar?” Ayla asked.
“Yes, I think so,” he said.
“Why don’t you call him and see if he’ll come?” she said.
The boy whistled the loud, piercing call. Very soon the two horses, the mare following the young stallion, appeared from behind some trees that lined the small waterway and came trotting toward them. They stopped at the enclosure fence and watched the humans approaching. Whinney snorted and Racer whickered at them. Ayla answered with the distinctive whinny that was the sound she had originally named her horse, and both horses neighed back.
“She does know how to make a sound like a horse,” Mardena said.
“I told you she could, mother,” Lanidar said.
Wolf raced ahead, easily slipping under the fence. He sat in front of the mare while she dropped her head in what appeared to be a gesture of greeting. Then Wolf approached the young stallion, dropped down on his chest and forepaws, with his hindquarters up in the air in a playful pose, and yipped at Racer. The stallion nickered back, then they touched noses. Ayla smiled at them as she ducked inside the fence. She hugged the mare around the neck, then turned and stroked the stallion, who was crowding in looking for attention, too.
“I hope you like this surround better than having to wear halters and ropes all the time. I wish I could let you run free, but I don’t think it’s safe when so many people are out hunting. I’ve brought some visitors today, and it’s important for you to be very cooperative and gentle. I want the boy who whistles to check on you for me, and his mother is protective of him and nervous about you,” Ayla said in the language she had invented when she lived alone in the valley.
It comprised certain sounds and gestures from the Clan, some of the nonsense sounds she and her son had made to each other when he was a baby and they were alone, and certain onomatopoeic sounds she had begun to make in imitation of the animals around her, including horse snorts and whickers. Only she knew what she meant, but she had always used her invented language when she talked to the horses. She doubted if they fully understood, though certain sounds and gestures had meaning for them, since she used them as signals and directions, but they knew it was her way of addressing them and they responded by paying attention.
“What’s she doing?” Mardena said to Folara.
“She’s talking to the horses,” Folara said. “She often talks to them like that.”
“What is she saying to them?” Mardena asked.
“You’ll have to ask her,” Folara said.
“Do they know what she’s saying? It doesn’t make any sense to me,” Denoda said.
“I don’t know, but they seem to listen,” Folara said.
Lanidar had crowded up close to the fence and was watching her closely. She really did treat them like friends, more like family, actually, he thought, and they treated her the same way. But he wondered where the enclosure came from. It hadn’t been there the day before.
When Ayla was through talking to the horses and turned around to face the people, Lanidar asked her, “Where did the surround come from? It wasn’t here yesterday.”
Ayla smiled. “A lot of people got together and built it yesterday afternoon,” she said.
When Ayla returned from having a meal with the Nineteenth Cave, she mentioned to Joharran after his meeting that she wanted to build an enclosure for the horses, and explained why. Joharran stood up on Zelandoni’s stool and talked about Ayla’s desire to create a safe place for the horses. Most of the people who were at the meeting were still there, as well as many people from the Ninth Cave. Many questions were asked, including how strong it had to be, and several suggestions were made. Before long, most of them moved up the meadow and pitched in to build the corral. The ones who were not from the Ninth Cave were curious about the horses anyway, and most of those who were didn’t want to see the horses accidentally hurt or killed. They were a novelty that brought added distinction to their Cave.
Ayla was so grateful, she didn’t know what to say. She thanked them but didn’t think that was near enough, and felt a debt to the Zelandonii that she didn’t know how to repay. Working together brought people closer together, and she felt that she got to know some people better. Joharran had mentioned wanting to include the horses in the hunt, which was planned for the following morning. Both Ayla and Jondalar rode the horses and demonstrated their control of them, which made Joharran’s suggestions much more acceptable. If the hunt was successful, the Matrimonial would normally take place the next day, but since Dalanar and the Lanzadonii had not yet arrived, they were prepared to wait a few days, though some people were getting anxious.
Ayla put halters on the horses and led them out of the enclosure through a gate that Tormaden of the Nineteenth Cave had devised. He dug a hole beside one of the support posts for the base of a pole to which the gate was attached and used a loop of rope to slip over the top. Rope loops also served as hinges. She was beginning to feel a closer tie to the Nineteenth Cave. When she brought the horses up close, Mardena backed away fast. They were so much bigger up close. Folara immediately stepped into her place.
“I haven’t seen the horses nearly as much as I wanted to,” she said, petting Whinney’s face. “Everyone has been so busy what with that bison hunt where Shevonar died, and the burial, and getting ready to come. You said once you’d let me have a ride on a horse.”
“Would you like to do it now?” Ayla said.
“Could I?” she said, her eyes glowing with pleasure.
“Let me get a riding blanket for Whinney,” Ayla said. “Would you and Lanidar like to give them something to eat while I get it? He has some food they like in that bowl.”
“I’m not sure if Lanidar should get so close,” Mardena said.
“He’s already close, Mardena,” Denoda said. “But she’s there.…”
“Mother, I already fed them once. They know me, and you can see they know Folara,” Lanidar said.
“They won’t hurt him,” Ayla said, “and I’m only going over there.”
She pointed to an arrangement of stones near the gate. It was a traveler’s cairn that Kareja had made for her. Ayla only had to remove a few rocks to reach the space inside where she could keep a few things, like a leather riding blanket. The rocks were overlapped in such a way that rainwater would flow over the top and not seep inside. The leader of the Eleventh Cave showed her how to put them back to keep the inside dry. Similar cairns were placed along several well-used routes with emergency fire-making materials and often a warm cloak inside. Other cairns had dried food inside. Occasionally both would be in one cairn, but the food cairns were broken into more often, and bears, wolverines, or badgers, the most frequent offenders, usually vandalized and scattered everything.
Ayla left them with the horses. When she reached the cairn, she glanced back, making it very inconspicuous. Folara and Lanidar were letting the large herbivores eat out of their hands, while Mardena stayed back, acting nervous and looking concerned, and Denoda watched. Ayla walked back and casually tied the riding blanket on Whinney’s back. Then she led the mare to a stone.
“Get up on the stone, Folara, then put your leg over her back and try to find a comfortable seat. You can hang on to her mane. I’ll hold Whinney so she won’t move,” Ayla said.
Folara felt a little clumsy, especially when she recalled how smoothly Ayla mounted the horse, but she managed to get on, then sat there, grinning. “I’m sitting on a horse’s back!” she said, feeling rather proud of herself.
Ayla noticed that Lanidar was watching her with a yearning look. Later, Ayla thought. Let’s not press your mother too hard, yet. “Are you ready?
” she said.
“Yes, I think so,” Folara said.
“Just relax, you can hold her mane for support if you want, but you don’t have to,” Ayla said, then started off at a walk, leading the horse by the halter, though she knew Whinney would follow her without it.
At first Folara held the mane and sat up stiffly, bouncing with each step the horse made, but after a while she settled down, began to anticipate the gait and relax into it. Then she let go of the mane.
“Do you want to try it alone? I’ll give you the lead rope.”
“Do you think I can?”
“You can try it, and if you want to get off, just tell me. When you want Whinney to go faster, lean forward,” Ayla explained, “hug her neck if you want. When you want her to slow down, start to sit up.”
“All right. I think I will try,” Folara said.
Mardena looked absolutely petrified when Ayla put the lead rope in Folara’s hand. “Go ahead, Whinney,” she said, signaling her to go slow.
The horse started walking across the meadow. She had given rides to several people and knew to go easy, especially the first time. When Folara leaned forward a little, Whinney increased her pace, but not by much. She leaned down a little farther, and Whinney shifted into a trot. She was an amazingly smooth-riding horse, but the trot jogged Folara a little more than she expected. She quickly sat back up, and Whinney slowed down. After they had gone out a ways, Ayla whistled to call her back. Folara got braver and leaned forward again, and this time she stayed with the trot until they returned and stopped. Ayla led the mare to the rock and held her until Folara got down.
“That was wonderful!” Folara said, her face flushed with excitement. Lanidar was smiling at her just because she looked so pleased.
“See, mother,” the boy said. “You can ride on the back of these horses.”
“Ayla, why don’t you give Mardena and Denoda a demonstration of what they can really do,” Folara said.
Ayla nodded, then quickly and smoothly leaped on the horse, guided her out toward the middle of the meadow at a fast trot, with Racer and Wolf at her heels. She signaled a gallop, and the horse raced at top speed across the field. She made a large circle, then headed back, slowing the horse as they got close, pulled to a stop, threw her leg over the horse, and jumped down. Both women and the boy were wide-eyed.