When they neared the camp, Wolf raced out to greet her. She saw him coming and braced herself, just in case he jumped up on her in his enthusiasm, but signaled him to stay down. He stopped, though it seemed it was all he could do to control himself. She hunkered down to his level and allowed him to lick her neck while she held him down until he composed himself. Then she stood up. He looked up at her with what seemed to her to be such a hopeful, yearning expression, she nodded her head and tapped the front of her shoulder. He jumped up, putting his paws where she had signaled and, with a low-rumbling growl, took her jaw in his teeth. She returned the gesture, and then she held his magnificent head in both her hands and looked into his gold-flecked eyes.
“I love you, too, Wolf, but sometimes I wonder why you love me so much. Is it just that I have become the leader of your pack, or is it something more?” Ayla said, touching her forehead to his, then signaled him down.
“You command love, Ayla,” the First said, “and the love you invoke cannot be denied.”
Ayla looked at her, thinking it was a strange comment. “I don’t command anything,” she said.
“You command that wolf. He is motivated to please you by the love he feels for you. It’s not that you try to beguile or entice, but you draw it to you. And those who love you, love you profoundly. I see it in your animals. I see it in Jondalar. I know him. He has never loved anyone the way he loves you, and he never will. Perhaps it is because you give of yourself so fully and so openly, or perhaps it is a Gift from the Mother, to inspire love. You will always be loved with great fervor, but one must be wary of the Mother’s Gifts.”
“Why do people say that, Zelandoni?” Ayla asked. “Why should someone be concerned about a Gift from the Mother? Aren’t Her Gifts a good thing?”
“Perhaps it’s because Her Gifts are too good. Or because they are too powerful. How do you feel if someone gives you something of great value?” the donier asked.
“Iza taught me that a gift creates an obligation. You must give something of equal value back,” Ayla said.
“The more I learn about the people who raised you, the more I grow to respect them,” said the One Who Was First. “When the Great Earth Mother bestows a Gift, She may expect something in return, something of equal value. When much is given, much may be expected, but how can one know what that is until the time comes? So people are leery. Sometimes Her Gifts are too much, more than one wants, but they can’t be given back. Too much doesn’t necessarily bring any more happiness than not enough.”
“Even too much love?” Ayla asked.
“The best example to answer that is Jondalar. He was definitely favored by the Mother,” said the woman once known as Zolena, “too favored, he was given too much. He is so remarkably handsome and well made, he can’t help but draw attention. Even his eyes are such an exceptional color, one can hardly keep from staring at him. He has a natural charm, people are drawn to him, but women in particular—I don’t think there is a woman alive who could refuse him whatever he asked, not the Mother Herself—and he delights in pleasing women. He’s intelligent, and exceptionally skilled at flint-knapping, and with it all he was given a caring heart, but he cares too much. He has too much love to give.
“Even his love for working the stone, for making tools, is for him a true passion. But the intensity of his feelings for whatever he loves is so strong, it can overwhelm him, and those he cares for. He fights to keep it under control, but it has occasionally gotten away from him. Ayla, I’m not sure you understand how powerful his feelings are. And all his Gifts didn’t make him happy, at least not until now, they have often aroused more envy than love.”
Ayla nodded with a thoughtful frown. “I have heard several people say Jondalar’s brother Thonolan was a favorite of the Mother and that’s why he was taken so young,” Ayla said. “Was he exceptionally handsome, and given many Gifts?”
“He was a favorite of everyone, not only the Mother. Thonolan was a fine-looking man, but he didn’t have the overwhelming … I’m tempted to say beauty—masculine beauty, to be sure—of Jondalar, but he had such a warm and open nature that wherever he went, people loved him, men and women alike. He made friends, easily and naturally, and no one resented him, or was envious of him,” the woman said.
They had been standing and talking, with the wolf crouched at Ayla’s feet. As they started walking again toward the campfire, Ayla still frowned, thinking about the donier’s words.
“Now that Jondalar has brought you home, many men are even more envious, and many women are jealous of you, because he loves you,” Zelandoni continued. “That was why Marona tried to make you look foolish. She was jealous, envious of both of you, I think, because you have found happiness in each other. Some people think she was given much, but all she ever had was an unusual beauty, and beauty alone is the most deceptive of Gifts. It doesn’t last. She is an unpleasant woman, who seems to think of little besides herself, with few friends and no real talents. When Marona’s beauty fades she will have nothing, I’m afraid, not even children, it seems.”
They walked together a few steps, then Ayla stopped and turned toward the woman. “I haven’t seen Marona lately, not for several days before we left and not on the trek here.”
“She went back to the Fifth Cave with her friend and came here with them. She is staying at their camp,” the donier said.
“I don’t like Marona, but I am sorry for her if she can’t have children. Iza knew some things that could be done to make a woman more receptive to the impregnating spirit,” Ayla said.
“I know of a few, too, but she hasn’t asked for help, and if she is really unable to conceive, nothing will help,” the woman said.
Ayla heard the tone of sorrow in her voice. She would be sorry, too, if she couldn’t have children. Then her frown was replaced by a radiant smile. “Did you know I am going to have a child?” she said.
Zelandoni smiled back. Her speculation about Ayla was confirmed. “I’m very happy for you, Ayla. Does Jondalar know your mating has been blessed?”
“Yes. I told him. He’s very pleased.”
“He should be. Have you told anyone else?”
“Only Marthona, and Proleva, and now you.”
“If it’s not generally known, we can surprise everyone at your Matrimonial and announce your good news, if you like,” Zelandoni said. “There are special words that can be part of the ceremony if the woman is already Blessed.”
“I think I would like that,” Ayla said. “I’ve stopped marking my moon times, since my bleeding has stopped, but I’m wondering if I should start marking days again, to keep track of them until my baby is born. Jondalar taught me how to use the counting words, but I don’t know how to count that far.”
“Do you find the counting words difficult, Ayla?”
“Oh, no. I like using counting words,” she said. “Jondalar surprised me the first time he used them, though. Just from the marks I made on my sticks every night, he knew how long I lived in the valley. He said it was easier because I cut an extra line above the marks on the days when my moon time started, so I would be prepared for it. I seemed to have more trouble hunting when I was bleeding. I think animals could smell me. After a while I noticed that my bleeding always came when the waning moon reached the same shape, so I didn’t have to make the marks, but I made them anyway. You can’t always see the moon if it’s stormy or cloudy.”
Zelandoni thought she was getting accustomed to the surprises Ayla could come up with in such an offhand way, as though it were nothing. But making counting marks when she bled and then making the connection to moon phases was rather astonishing for someone to make by herself.
“Would you like to learn more counting words, and different ways to use them, Ayla?” the woman said. “They can be used to know when seasons are ready to change, before the changes are apparent, for example, or to count the days until your baby is born.”
“Yes, I would,” Ayla said, smiling broadly. “I learned how to make marks from Creb, although I think it made him nervous when I did it. Most women of the Clan, or men, for that matter, couldn’t count much past three. Creb could make counting marks because he was The Mog-ur, but he didn’t have words for counting.”
“I’ll show you how to count larger numbers,” the First said. “I think it’s best that you are having your children now, when you are young. You may not want to worry about taking care of young children when you are older. There is no telling what you may decide to do.”
“I’m not so young, Zelandoni. I can count nineteen years, if Iza was right about how many years I was when she found me,” Ayla said.
“You certainly look younger than you are.” A fleeting frown crossed Zelandoni’s face. “But it shouldn’t matter. You have a head start,” she said almost to herself, and finished in her thoughts, She is already a skilled healer, she won’t have to learn that before becoming a Zelandoni.
“A head start on what?” Ayla asked, puzzled.
“Uh … you have a head start on your family, since life has already begun,” Zelandoni said. “But I hope you don’t have too many children. You’re in good health, but too many can drain a woman, age her more quickly.”
Ayla got a strong impression that Zelandoni did not want her to know what she was thinking and quickly said something else because she wanted to keep from telling her. It was her right, Ayla thought. She could refrain from mentioning what she was thinking if she chose, but it did make her wonder.
Twilight had settled by the time they approached the campfire, and it was already getting hard to see. When they arrived at the fire trench, people greeted them and offered them food. Ayla realized she was hungry; it had been a full and busy afternoon. Zelandoni ate with them and planned to sleep at the camp of the Ninth Cave that night, then immediately got into a discussion with Marthona and Joharran about the upcoming hunt and the Search the zelandonia would make. She mentioned that Ayla would be joining them, which they seemed to think was entirely appropriate, but it made Ayla feel uneasy. She did not want to become one of Those Who Served The Mother, but circumstances seemed to be pulling her in that direction and she wasn’t happy about it.
“We should get there early. I need to arrange to set up some targets and step off the distances,” Jondalar said as they walked out of the lodge the next morning. He was holding the cup of mint tea Ayla had made for him and began chewing on the end of the wintergreen twig she had recently peeled, to prepare it for him to clean his teeth.
“I want to check on Whinney and Racer first. I hardly saw them at all yesterday. Why don’t you go ahead and get things ready. I’ll keep Wolf with me and meet you later,” Ayla said.
“Don’t take too long. People will be gathering early, and I’d really like you to show them what you can do. It’s one thing for me to cast a spear a long way, but when they see that a woman, using the spear-thrower, can fling a spear farther than any of the men, that will make them interested,” Jondalar said.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can, but I want to brush them down, and check Racer’s eye. It seemed red, like he got something in it. I may want to treat it,” Ayla said.
“Do you think he’s all right? Should I come with you?” he said, full of concern.
“It didn’t look that bad. I’m sure he’s fine. I just want to check it. You go on, I won’t be long,” she said.
Jondalar nodded as he scrubbed at his teeth, then swished out his mouth with the mint tea. He drank down the balance and smiled. “That always makes me feel better,” he said.
“It does make your mouth feel clean, and wakes you up,” Ayla said. She had made his tea and prepared his twig nearly every morning since shortly after she met him, and had begun to follow his morning ritual. “I noticed it especially when I was sick in the morning.”
“Are you still having morning sickness?” he asked.
“No, not anymore, but I do notice that my stomach is getting bigger,” she said.
He smiled. “I like your bigger stomach,” he said, then reached over and put an arm around her shoulders and the other hand on her belly. “I especially like what’s in it.”
She smiled back. “I do, too,” she said.
He kissed her with warmth and feeling. “The thing I miss most about traveling is that we could stop and share Pleasures whenever we felt like it. Now, it seems there is always something to do and it’s not as easy to stop and do what we want whenever we want.” He nuzzled her neck, felt the fullness of her breasts, and kissed her again. “Maybe I don’t have to get to the spear-throwing range so early,” he added with a huskiness in his voice.
“Yes, you do,” she said with a laugh. “But if you want to stay …”
“No, you are right, but I’m going to look for you later.”
Jondalar headed for the main camp and Ayla went back into the lodge. When she came out, she was carrying her backpack, the one with the holders for spears and spear-thrower, into which she had packed a few things. She whistled for Wolf and headed upstream along the small creek. Both horses knew she was coming and had strained to come toward her as far as their lead ropes would allow. Ayla noticed that the ropes had gotten caught in some of the vegetation. Besides the long grass that had twisted itself around both leads, Whinney’s rope had an entire dry bush tangled in it, and Racer had pulled a living shrub out of the ground, roots and all. Maybe a surround would work better than those ropes, she thought.
Ayla removed both their halters and lead ropes, and while she was at it, she checked Racer’s eye. It was a little red, but otherwise seemed fine. Racer and Wolf rubbed noses and then, so glad to be free of the restricting rope, Racer began running in a large circle, and Wolf chased after him. Ayla started brushing Whinney, and when she looked up, Racer was chasing Wolf. The next time she looked, Wolf was chasing Racer again. She stopped brushing for a while to watch them. As Wolf got close to Racer, the young stallion actually slowed down a bit until the wolf passed him and raced ahead. When they came full circle, Wolf slowed down and let Racer pass him.
At first, Ayla thought she was imagining that they were doing it on purpose, but as she continued to watch them, it soon became obvious that they were playing a game with each other, and enjoying it. Both young male animals, so full of life and energy, had discovered a way to run some of it off and have fun doing it. Ayla smiled and shook her head, wishing Jondalar were there to enjoy their antics with her, then went back to brushing the mare. Whinney, too, was beginning to show her pregnancy, but she appeared to be in good health.
When Ayla finished with her horse, she saw that Racer was grazing quietly and Wolf was nowhere in sight. Off exploring, she thought. She whistled the particular tones that Jondalar had developed to call his horse. He looked up and started toward her. He had nearly reached her when another whistle sounded, repeating the exact tones. They both looked for the whistler. Ayla thought it must be Jondalar, back for some reason, but when she looked up she saw a boy coming in her direction.
He was not familiar to her, and she wondered what he wanted and why he had imitated her particular whistle. When he neared, she thought he could count perhaps nine or ten years, then she noticed that one of his arms was somewhat stunted, shorter than the other, and hung a little awkwardly, as though he didn’t have full control of it. The boy reminded her of Creb, whose arm had been amputated at the elbow when he was a boy, and she warmed to him immediately.
“Are you the one who whistled?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you whistle like I did?” Ayla said.
“I never heard a whistle like that. I wanted to see if I could do it,” he said.
“You did,” she said. “Are you looking for someone?”
“No,” he said.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m just looking. Someone told me there were horses here, but I didn’t know anyone had set up camp. He didn’t tell me that. Everyone else is by Middle Creek,” he said.
“We just recently arrived. How long have you been here?”
“I was born here.”
“Oh, then you are of the Nineteenth Cave.”
“Yes. Why do you talk funny?”
“I was not born here. I come from far away. I used to be Ayla of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, now I am Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii,” she said, then stepped toward him, holding out both hands in the manner of a formal greeting.
He became a little flustered because he could not reach out well with his partially paralyzed arm. Ayla stretched a bit for his crippled limb and took both hands in hers as though it were perfectly normal, but she noted that his hand was smaller and misshapen, and the little finger was fused to the one next to it. She held his hands for a moment and smiled.
Then, as though he just remembered, the boy said, “I am Lanidar of the Nineteenth Cave of the Zelandonii.” He was about to let go, but added, “The Nineteenth Cave welcomes you to the Summer Meeting, Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii.”
“You whistle very well. Your whistle was a very good copy of mine. Do you like to whistle?” she asked when she let go.
“I guess so.”
“Can I ask you not to make that whistle sound again?” she said.
“Why?” he asked.
“I use that sound to call the horse, this one, the stallion. If you whistle like that, I’m afraid he will think you are calling him and it will confuse him,” Ayla explained. “If you like to whistle, I can teach you other sounds to whistle.”
“Like what?”
Ayla looked around and noticed a chickadee perched on the limb of a nearby tree, singing the chick-a-dee-dee-dee sound that gave the bird its name. She listened for a moment, then repeated the sound. The boy looked startled, and the bird stopped singing for a moment, then started up again. Ayla repeated the sound. The black-capped bird sang again, looking around.
“How do you do that?” the boy said.
“I’ll teach you if you like. You could learn, you’re a good whistler,” she said.
“Can you whistle like other birds, too?” he asked.
“Which ones?”
“Any one you want.”
“How about a meadow lark?”
Ayla closed her eyes for a moment, then whistled a series of tones that sounded exactly like a lark that had soared high into the sky and swooped down, making its glorious melody.
“Can you really teach me to do that?” the boy asked, looking at her with wonder in his eyes.
“If you really want to learn,” Ayla said.
“How did you learn?”
“I practiced. If you have patience, sometimes the bird will come to you when you whistle its song,” the woman replied. Ayla remembered when she lived alone in her valley and taught herself to whistle and imitate the sounds of birds. Once she started feeding them, there were several that always came at her call and ate out of her hand.
“Can you whistle other things?” Lanidar asked, completely intrigued by the strange woman who talked funny and whistled so well.
Ayla thought for a moment, then perhaps because the boy reminded her of Creb, she began to whistle an eerie melody that sounded like a flute playing. He had heard flutes many times, but he had never heard anything like it. The haunting music was totally unfamiliar to him. It was the sound of the flute played by the mog-ur at the Clan Gathering she had gone to with Brun’s clan when she still lived with them. Lanidar listened until she stopped.
“I never heard whistling like that,” he said.
“Did you like it?” she asked.
“Yes, but it was a little scary, too. Like it came from a place far away,” Lanidar said.
“It did,” Ayla said, then she smiled and pierced the air with a sharp, commanding trill. Before long, Wolf came bounding out of the long grass of the field.
“It’s a wolf!” the boy screamed with fear.
“It’s all right,” she said, holding Wolf close to her. “The wolf is my friend. I walked through the main camp with him yesterday. I thought you would know that he was here, along with the horses.”
The boy calmed down, but still looked at Wolf with large round eyes full of apprehension.
“I went with my mother to pick raspberries yesterday. Nobody even told me you were here. They just said there were some horses in the Upper Meadow,” Lanidar said. “Everybody was talking about some kind of spear-throwing thing some man wanted to show. I’m not good at throwing a spear, so I decided I’d look for the horses instead.”
Ayla wondered if the omission was on purpose, if someone was trying to trick him the way Marona had tried to trick her. Then she realized that a boy of his age who went berry picking with his mother probably led a pretty lonely life. She got a sense that the boy with a crippled arm, who could not throw a spear, did not have many friends and that the other boys made fun of him and tried to trick him. But he did have one good arm. He could learn to throw a spear, especially using a spear-thrower.
“Why aren’t you good at throwing a spear?” she asked.
“Can’t you see?” he said, holding out his malformed arm and looking at it with loathing.
“But you have another arm that is perfectly good,” she said.
“Everybody always holds their extra spears with their other arm. Besides, nobody wanted to teach me. They said I could never hit a target, anyway,” the boy said.
“What about the man of your hearth?” Ayla asked.
“I live with my mother, and her mother. I guess there was a man of the hearth once, my mother pointed him out to me, but he left her a long time ago, and he doesn’t want anything to do with me. He didn’t like it when I tried to visit him. He seemed embarrassed. Sometimes a man will come and live with us for a while, but none of them bother with me much,” the boy said.
“Would you like to see a spear-thrower? I have one with me,” Ayla said.
“Where did you get one?” Lanidar asked.
“I know the man who made it. He’s the man I’m going to mate. I’ll be going to help him show his spear-thrower as soon as I finish with the horses.”
“I guess I could look at it,” the boy said.
Her backpack was on the ground nearby. She got her spear-thrower and a couple of spears and walked back.
“This is how it works,” she said, taking a spear and laying it on top of the strange-looking implement. She made sure the hole carved into the butt end of the spear was up against the small hook at the back of the narrow board with the groove down the middle, then put her fingers through the loops attached to the front end. She sighted down the field, then launched the spear.
“That spear went a long way!” Lanidar said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man throw a spear that far.”
“Probably not. That’s what makes the spear-thrower such a good hunting weapon. I think you could throw a spear with this. Come here, I’ll show you how to hold it.”
Ayla could see that her spear-thrower was not made for someone of Lanidar’s size, but it was good enough to demonstrate the principle of leverage behind it. It was his right arm that was deformed, which had forced him to develop his left arm. Whether he would naturally have been left-handed if his right arm had developed properly didn’t matter. He was left-handed now, and he was strong on that side. She didn’t worry about aiming for the moment, but she showed him how to pull back and cast the spear. Then she set it up and let him do it. The spear flew high and wide, but quite far, and the grin on Lanidar’s face was ecstatic.
“I threw that spear. Look how far it went!” he nearly shouted. “Can you actually hit something with it?”
“If you practice,” she said, smiling. She looked around the field, but didn’t see anything. She turned to Wolf, who’d been lying on his belly with his head up, watching the whole thing. “Wolf, go find something for me,” she said, although the hand signal she gave him said more.
He jumped up and raced into the meadow of full-grown grass turning from green to gold. Ayla followed behind slowly, and the boy walked behind her. Before long she saw movement of the grass ahead, then caught sight of a gray hare darting away from the wolf. She had the spear poised, watching carefully, and when she saw the direction it would likely bound the next time, she cast the small spear. It landed true, and when she reached it, the wolf was standing over it, looking up at her.
“I want that one, Wolf. You go catch one of your own now,” she said to the carnivore, again signaling him at the same time. But the boy didn’t really see the signals and was completely amazed at the way the huge wolf minded the woman. She picked up the hare and started back toward the horses.
“You should go and see the man demonstrate the spear-thrower he made. I think you might find it interesting, Lanidar, and just because you don’t know how to throw a spear won’t make any difference. No one else knows how to use a spear-thrower, either. Everybody will be learning from the beginning. If you want to wait a while, I’ll walk over there with you,” Ayla said.
Lanidar watched her brushing down the young stallion. “I’ve never seen a brown horse like that. Most horses look like the mare.”
“I know,” Ayla said, “but far to the east, beyond the end of the Great Mother River that starts on the other side of the glacier, some horses are brown like that. That’s where these horses come from.”
After a while the wolf returned. He found a spot, circled around it a few times, then lowered himself to his belly, panting and watching.
“Why do these animals stay around you, let you touch them, and do what you say?” Lanidar asked. “I’ve never seen animals do that.”
“They are my friends. I was hunting and the mare’s dam fell into my pit trap. I didn’t know she was nursing until I saw the foal. A pack of hyenas saw the foal, too. I don’t know why I chased them away. The foal couldn’t have lived alone, but since I saved her, I raised her. I guess she grew up thinking I was her mother. Later we became friends, and learned to understand each other. She does things I ask her to do, because she wants to. I named her Whinney,” Ayla said, but the way she said the name was the perfect copy of a horse’s whinny. In the field, the dun-yellow mare raised her head and looked in their direction.
“That was you! How did you do that?” Lanidar said.
“I paid attention and practiced. That is her real name. To most people I usually say ‘Whinney’ because they understand it better, but that’s not how I said it when I named her. This stallion is her son. I was there when he was born. So was Jondalar. He named this horse Racer, but that was later,” Ayla explained.
“Racer can mean someone who likes to go fast, or someone who likes to be ahead of everyone else,” the boy said.
“That’s what Jondalar said. He named him that because Racer loves to run, and likes to get ahead, except when I put him on a rope. Then he will follow behind his dam,” Ayla said, and went back to grooming the horse. She was nearly through.
“What about the wolf?” Lanidar asked.
“Almost the same thing. I raised Wolf from a baby. I killed his mother because she was stealing ermine from some traps I set. I didn’t know she was nursing. It was in winter with snow on the ground, and she had whelped out of season. I followed her tracks back to her den. She was a lone wolf, with no other wolves to help her, and all but one of her cubs had died. I pulled Wolf out of the den when his eyes were barely open. He grew up with Mamutoi children, and thinks of people as his pack,” she said.
“What is that name you call him?” Lanidar said.
“Wolf. It’s the word for a wolf in Mamutoi,” Ayla said. “Would you like to meet him?”
“What do you mean, ‘meet him’? How can you meet a wolf?”
“Come here and I’ll show you,” she said. He approached with caution. “Give me your hand, and we’ll let Wolf smell it, and get used to your scent, then you can rub his fur.”
Lanidar was a little hesitant about putting his good hand so close to the mouth of the wolf, but he extended it slowly. Ayla brought it to Wolf’s nose. He sniffed it, then licked it.
“That tickles!” the boy said with a nervous titter.
“You can touch his head, and he likes to be scratched,” Ayla said, showing Lanidar how. The boy broke into a delighted grin when he touched the animal, but looked up when the young stallion nickered. “I think Racer would like a little attention, too. Would you like to pet him?”
“Can I?” Lanidar asked.
“Come here, Racer,” she said, signaling him to come as well as saying it. The dark brown stallion with black mane, tail, and lower legs nickered again, took a few steps toward the woman and the boy, and lowered his head toward the youngster, making the boy move back a ways from the large animal. He may not have been a carnivore with a mouth full of sharp teeth, but that didn’t mean he was without defenses. Ayla reached into the backpack at her feet.
“Move slowly, let him smell you, too. That’s how animals get to know you, then you can pat his nose, or the side of his face,” Ayla said.
The boy did as she said. “His nose is so soft!” Lanidar said. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, Whinney was there, pushing Racer aside. The boy was startled. Ayla had seen Whinney approaching from the field, wanting to find out what was going on.
“Whinney likes attention, too,” Ayla said. “Horses are very curious, and like to be noticed. Would you like to feed them?” He nodded. Ayla opened her hand and showed him two pieces of a white root that she knew the horses liked, fresh young wild carrot. “Is your right hand strong enough to hold something?”
“Then you can feed them both at the same time,” she said, putting a piece of root in each of his hands. “Hold one out to each horse, letting it rest on your open hand, so they can take it,” she said. “They get jealous if you feed one and not the other, and Whinney will push Racer out of the way. She’s his mother, she can tell him what to do.”
“Even horse mothers can do that?” he said.
“Yes, even horse mothers.” She stood up and got the halter with the ropes attached. “I think it’s time to go, Lanidar. Jondalar is expecting me. I’m going to have to put their ropes back on. I’d rather not, but it’s for their own safety. I don’t want them wandering around loose until everybody at the Summer Meeting knows that these horses are not to be hunted. I was thinking a surround might be a better place for them, rather than using ropes that get tangled on bushes and grass.”
The bush caught up in Racer’s rope was so tangled, she dropped it and went to find her backpack. She thought she had put the small axe that Jondalar had made for her in it, though when they were traveling, she usually wore it with the hafted handle put through a loop attached to her waistband. It would be easier to untangle the rope if she could break up the woody bush first. She searched around the bottom of the pack and found it. After she made sure they were cleared of the debris they had picked up, Ayla put the ropes back on the horses and gathered up her backpack and the hare to give to whoever might be working around the camp of the Ninth Cave. Then she looked at the boy. “If I teach you how to whistle like birds and things, would you do something for me, Lanidar?”
“What?”
“Sometimes I have to be away almost all day. Would you come and check on the horses once in a while when I’m gone? You can call them with a whistle then, if you want. Make sure their ropes aren’t tangled, and give them some attention? They like company. If there are any problems, come and find me. Do you think you could do that?”
The boy could hardly believe what she was asking. He never would have dreamed she would ask him to do something like that. “Can I feed them, too? I liked it when they ate off both my hands.”
“Of course. You can always pick some fresh green grass, and they really like wild carrots, and some other roots I can show you. I have to go, do you want to come with me to watch Jondalar show his spear-thrower?”
“Yes,” he said.
Ayla walked with the boy back to the camp, making a few bird whistles along the way.
When Ayla, Wolf, and Lanidar reached the site of the spear-throwing demonstration, Ayla was surprised to see several more of the hunting implements besides Jondalar’s. Some people who had seen their earlier presentation to the Caves in their immediate region had made their own versions of the weapon, and they were showing their capabilities with varying degrees of success. Jondalar saw her coming and looked relieved. He hurried to meet them.
“What took you so long?” he started right in. “Several people tried to make spear-throwers after we showed them,” he said, “but you know how much practice it takes to develop accuracy. So far, I’m the only one who’s been able to hit what I aimed for, and I’m afraid people are beginning to think my skill is just a fluke, and that no one else will ever be able to hit anything using them. I didn’t want to say anything about you. I thought that a showing of your skill would make a better impression. I’m glad you finally made it.”
“I brushed the horses—Racer’s eye is fine—and let them run for a while,” she explained. “We need to think of something besides ropes that get caught on bushes and things. Maybe we could make a surround, or an enclosure of some kind. I’ve asked Lanidar to check on them when we’re away from camp. He’s met the horses and they like him.”
“Who is Lanidar?” Jondalar asked rather impatiently.
She indicated the boy who was standing beside her, trying to edge around behind her, looking up at the tall man who seemed angry, which made the boy a little frightened. “This is Lanidar of the Nineteenth Cave, Jondalar. Someone told him there were horses in the field where we camped, and he came to see them.”
Jondalar started to shrug him off, his mind on the demonstration that was not going as well as he’d hoped, then he noticed the deformed arm and a frown of concern on Ayla’s face. She was trying to tell him something, and it was probably about the boy.
“I think he could be a big help,” she said. “He’s even learned the whistle we use to call the horses, but he’s promised not to use it without a good reason.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Jondalar said, turning his attention to the child, “and I’m sure we can use the help.” Lanidar relaxed a little, and Ayla smiled at Jondalar.
“Lanidar came to see the demonstration, too. What targets do you have set up?” Ayla asked as they started walking back toward the crowd of mostly men who were watching them. A few of them looked as though they were getting ready to leave.
“Drawings of deer on a hide tied to a bundle of grass,” he said.
Ayla pulled out a spear and her spear-thrower as they approached, and as soon as she saw the targets, she sighted and let fly. The solid thunk caught a few by surprise, they hadn’t expected the woman to make a cast so quickly. She made a few more demonstrations, but unmoving targets seemed rather commonplace, and even if the spear did fly farther than anyone had ever seen a woman throw before, they had already watched Jondalar do that several times. It was no longer exceptional.
The boy seemed to understand that. He had walked along beside her because he wasn’t sure if she wanted him to stay or go, and tapped her.
“Why don’t you tell the wolf to find a rabbit or something?” Lanidar said.
The woman smiled at him, then made a silent signal to the wolf. The area was trampled by the many people milling around, and it was not likely that there were many animals left, but if any could be found, Wolf would find them. With a little trepidation, some people noticed the wolf dashing away from Ayla. They had started to become accustomed to seeing the meat-eater with the woman, but rushing off on his own was another thing.
Before Ayla arrived, a man had asked Jondalar how far he could cast a spear with one of those spear-throwers, but he said he had used up all his spears and needed to retrieve them before he could throw them again. Jondalar and a knot of men were just starting off together to gather them up when Ayla spied Wolf in a stance that signaled to her that he had found something. Suddenly a noisy willow grouse appeared out of a clump of trees halfway up a slope near the target course. Ayla had been waiting with a lightweight spear in the thrower, one she and Jondalar had started using for birds and small animals.
She hurled the weapon with a speed that was so practiced, it was almost instinctive. The bird squawked when it was hit, causing several people to look. They watched it fall from the sky. Suddenly there was renewed interest in the hunting weapon. “How far can she throw?” the man who had asked about distance wanted to know.
“Ask her,” Jondalar said.
“Just throw, or hit the mark?” Ayla asked.
“Both,” the man said.
“If you want to see how far a spear will go using a thrower, I have a better idea,” she said, then turned to the boy. “Lanidar, would you show them how far you can throw a spear?”
He glanced around rather shyly, but she knew he hadn’t been hesitant to speak out or answer questions when he first talked to her, and she thought he wouldn’t mind the attention. He looked at Ayla and nodded.
“Do you think you can remember how you threw the spear before?” she asked.
He nodded again.
She gave him her spear-thrower and a projectile, another bird dart—she had only two lightweight spears left. He was a little awkward at getting the spear set on the spear-thrower with his shorter arm, but he did it himself. Then he walked to the middle of the practice course, pulled his good left arm back, and threw the spear the way he had done it before, letting the back of the thrower lift up and add the leverage that would give it more distance. It went less than half the distance down the course than either Ayla’s or Jondalar’s spears had gone, but it was still much farther than anyone expected a boy to cast a spear, especially one with his affliction.
More people started to crowd around, and no one seemed interested in leaving now. The man who had asked for the demonstration came forward. He looked at the boy, noticed the decorations on his tunic and the small necklace around his neck, and seemed surprised. “That boy is not Ninth Cave, he’s Nineteenth. You just arrived, when did he learn to use that thing?”
“This morning,” Ayla said.
“He threw a spear that far and he only learned this morning?” the man said.
Ayla nodded. “Yes. Of course, he hasn’t learned how to hit what he aims for yet, but that will come with time, and practice.” She glanced at the youngster.
Lanidar’s grin was so full of pride, Ayla had to smile, too. He gave her the spear-thrower and she selected a light spear, set it on top of the thrower, and heaved it with all her might. People watched as it flew high and landed well beyond the targets Jondalar had set out. Everyone was so busy watching the spear, few noticed that she had selected a second spear and hurled it. It landed in one of the targets with a satisfying sound, and several people turned their heads in surprise to see the long dart sticking out of the neck of the painted deer.
The hubbub of voices grew, and when Ayla looked at Jondalar, his grin was as wide as Lanidar’s had been. People crowded around them both, wanting to see the new implements, and several wanted to try them. But when they asked to use hers, Ayla directed them to Jondalar, making excuses about having to find Wolf. She found that while she didn’t mind offering to let someone use her weapon, she didn’t like it as well when people asked to use hers, though she was surprised at her reaction. She had never had much that she thought of as her own.
She was getting a little concerned about Wolf’s whereabouts and looked for him. She saw him sitting beside Folara and Marthona on the side of the slope. The young woman noticed her looking at them and held up the willow grouse. Ayla headed in their direction.
A woman approached her as she left the target field, then she saw that Lanidar was with her, but hanging back a little. “I am Mardena of the Nineteenth Cave of the Zelandonii,” said the woman, holding out both hands in greeting. “We are hosting this year. In the name of the Mother, I welcome you to this Summer Meeting.” She was a small woman, and thin. Ayla could see a resemblance to Lanidar.
“I am Ayla, of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, formerly of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi. In the name of Doni, the Great Earth Mother, known also as Mut, I greet you,” Ayla replied.
“I am Lanidar’s mother,” Mardena said.
“I thought you might be. There is a resemblance,” Ayla said.
She noticed Ayla’s strange accent and was slightly put off by it. “I’d like to ask how you know my son. I asked him, but he can be very closemouthed sometimes,” his mother said, looking a bit exasperated.
“Boys are like that,” Ayla said with a smile. “Someone told him there were horses at our camp. He came to see. I happened to be there at the time.”
“I hope he didn’t bother you,” Mardena said.
“No, not at all. In fact, he could be a help to me. I am trying to keep the horses out of the way, for their own safety, until everyone gets used to them and knows they are not horses to be hunted. I plan to build an enclosure for them, but I haven’t had time, so for now, I just have them on long ropes fastened to a tree. The ropes drag the ground and get caught in grass and brush, and then the horses can’t move around as well. I’ve asked Lanidar if he would check on them when I have to be gone for some time, and come and tell me if there is a problem. I just want to make sure they are all right,” Ayla said.
“He’s just a boy, and horses are rather big, aren’t they?” the boy’s mother asked.
“Yes, they are, and if they are crowded, or in an unknown situation, they sometimes get frightened. Then they might rear or kick out, but they took to Lanidar quite well. They are very gentle with children and people they know. You are welcome to come and see for yourself. But if it troubles you, I’ll find someone else,” Ayla said.
“Don’t say no, mother!” Lanidar implored, rushing up. “I want to do it. She let me touch them, and they ate out of my hands, both hands! And she showed me how to throw a spear with that spear-thrower. All the boys throw spears, and I never threw a spear before.”
Mardena knew that her son longed to be like the other boys, but she felt that he had to learn that he never would be. It had hurt when the man who had been her mate left after Lanidar was born. She was sure that he was ashamed of the child, and she thought everyone felt the same way. In addition to the handicap, Lanidar was small for his age, and she tried to protect him. Spear-throwing didn’t mean anything to her. She had come to watch the demonstration only because everyone else was and she thought Lanidar might enjoy watching. But when she looked for him, she couldn’t find him. No one was more surprised than Lanidar’s mother when the foreign woman called on him to demonstrate the new weapon, and she had to find out how Ayla came to know him.
Ayla could see her hesitation. “If you are not busy, why don’t you come to the camp of the Ninth Cave tomorrow morning with Lanidar. You can see the boy with the horses and judge for yourself,” Ayla said.
“Mother, I can do it. I know I can do it,” Lanidar pleaded.