The Seventh led the two women along the path up toward the Sacred Cave. Some torches had been stuck in the ground beside the path to help guide them, and Ayla suddenly recalled the time she had followed the lamps and torches into the winding cave at the Clan Gathering until she came upon the mog-urs. She knew she wasn’t supposed to be there then and had stopped just in time, hiding behind a huge stalagmite so they wouldn’t see her, but Creb knew she was there. This time she was part of the group that had been invited to join the gathering.
It was a good walk up to the Sacred Cave and by the time they reached it they were all breathing hard. The First was thinking to herself that she was glad she had decided to make this trip now; in a few years she wouldn’t be able to. Ayla had been aware of her difficulty and had purposely slowed down to make it easier for the woman. They knew they were close when they saw a fire burning ahead, and soon after noticed several people standing or sitting around it.
They were greeted with enthusiasm by the gathering, then stood and talked while they waited for a few more to arrive. Soon another group of three appeared, Jonokol among them. He had been visiting the camp of another Cave whose Zelandoni was also inclined to make images. They were also greeted by all; then the Seventh addressed them.
“We are very fortunate to have the First Among Those Who Serve The Great Mother with us. I don’t think she has ever joined one of our Summer Meetings before and she makes this an especially memorable occasion. Her acolyte, and the Zelandoni who was her acolyte, are both with her, and we are pleased to welcome them as well.”
There were words and gestures of greeting and then the Seventh continued. “We should all make ourselves comfortable around the fire; we brought pads to sit on. I have a special tea to try, for any who would like to. It was given to me by a Zelandoni far to the south of here, in the foothills of the tall mountains that define the boundary of Zelandonii territory. She has watched over a very sacred cave there for many years and renews it frequently. All Sacred Caves are wombs of the Great Mother, but in some Her presence is so profound, we know they must be exceptionally close to Her; hers is one of those. I think the Zelandoni who maintains it for the Mother has pleased Her so well, it has made the Mother want to stay close to it.”
Ayla noticed that Jonokol was paying very close attention to the words of the Seventh, and thought it might be because he wanted to learn how to please the Mother so she would stay close to the white cave. He never said it in so many words, but she knew he considered it his special Sacred Cave. She did, too.
Someone had put cooking rocks in the fire previously and were now taking them out with bentwood tongs, and dropping them into a tightly woven container of water. Then the Seventh added the contents of a leather pouch to the steaming water. The scent pervaded the area and Ayla tried to identify the ingredients. She thought it was a mixture, some of which seemed familiar, but some not at all. Overlying everything else was a strong odor of mint, which she thought might have been added to disguise the smell of some other ingredient or to mask an unpleasant odor or taste. After the tea had steeped for a while, the Seventh dipped some out into two cups, one larger than the other.
“This is a powerful drink,” the Seventh said. “I have tried it once, and I will be very careful before using very much of it again. It can take you very close to the world of the spirits, but I think everyone can have a taste, if you are careful not to take too much. One of my acolytes has offered to drink a larger dosage so that she can be a way in, a conduit for us.”
The larger cup was passed around and each one there took a small drink. When it reached the First, she smelled it first, then took a small sip and rolled it around in her mouth, trying to distinguish the elements. Then she took a slightly larger taste, and passed it on to Ayla. She had observed the First closely, and did the same thing. It was very potent. The scent alone was strong and made her feel a bit dizzy. The sip filled her mouth with a powerful taste that wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but wasn’t something she would want to drink every day like a normal cup of tea, and the small taste that she swallowed almost made her feel faint. She wished she knew what the ingredients were.
After tasting, everyone watched as the Seventh’s acolyte drank the small cupful. It wasn’t long before she was on her feet, weaving unsteadily toward the entrance to the Sacred Cave. The Seventh quickly got up to offer a hand to help her keep her balance. The rest of the zelandonia present followed them into the Sacred Cave, several of them carrying lit torches. They allowed the First, along with Ayla and Jonokol, to go ahead. Although it was quite a long way in, the acolyte went almost directly to the area of the cave where the painted horses that enclosed the large dots were. Several of those with torches went close to the wall to shine light on them.
Ayla was still feeling the effects of her small taste of the drink and wondered what sensations the acolyte who had drunk much more was experiencing. The young woman went to the panel and put both hands on it, then got in close and laid her cheek against the rough stone as though she was trying to get inside it. Then she began to cry. Her Zelandoni put his arm around her shoulders to calm her. The First took a few steps toward her and then began to sing the Mother’s Song.
Out of the darkness, the chaos of time,
The whirlwind gave birth to the Mother sublime.
She woke to Herself knowing life had great worth,
The dark empty void grieved the Great Mother Earth.
The Mother was lonely. She was the only.
Everyone listened, and Ayla could feel a tension in her shoulders that she didn’t know was there begin to ease. The young acolyte stopped crying, and after a while when they picked up the tune of the music, others joined in, especially when they got to the part where she sang about Her bringing forth the children of earth from her womb.
Each child was different, some were large and some small,
Some could walk and some fly, some could swim and some crawl.
But each form was perfect, each spirit complete,
Each one was a model whose shape could repeat.
The Mother was willing. The green earth was filling.
All the birds and the fish and the animals born,
Would not leave the Mother, this time, to mourn.
Each kind would live near the place of its birth,
And share the expanse of the Great Mother Earth.
Close to Her they would stay. They could not run away.
When the First was through, the acolyte was sitting on the ground in front of the painted panel. Several others were also sitting on the ground looking rather dazed.
When the First walked back to where Ayla was standing, the Seventh soon joined them. He said very softly, “It was remarkable the way your singing settled everyone down.” Then he added, indicating the ones who were seated, “I think they took more than a sip. Some may be here awhile. I think I should stay until everyone is ready to go back, but you don’t have to.”
“We’ll stay awhile longer,” the One Who Was First said, noticing that several more people were sitting.
“I’ll get some of those pads,” the Seventh said.
When he returned, Ayla was ready to sit. “I think that tea keeps getting stronger,” she said.
“I think you are right,” the First said. “Do you have any more?” she asked the Seventh. “I would like to test it further when we get back home.”
“I can give you some to take with you,” he said.
As Ayla sat down on the pad, she looked at the painted wall again. It seemed almost transparent, as though she could see through it to the other side. She had the feeling there were more animals wanting to come out, getting ready to live in this world. As she continued to watch, she felt more and more drawn into the world behind the wall, and then it seemed she was in it, or rather high above it.
It seemed not much different from her world, at first. There were rivers flowing across grassy steppes and prairies, and cutting between high cliffs, trees in protected areas and gallery forests along riverbanks. Many animals of all kinds roamed the land. Mammoths, rhinoceroses, megaceros, bison, aurochs, horses, and saiga antelope preferred the open grasslands; red deer and other varieties of smaller deer liked the cover of a few trees; reindeer and musk-oxen were well adapted to cold. There were all the varieties of other animals and birds, and predators from the huge cave lion to the smallest weasel. It wasn’t so much that she saw them as that she knew they were there, but there were differences. Things seemed strangely reversed. Bison and horses and deer were not avoiding the lions, but ignoring them. The landscape was clear, but when she looked in the sky she saw the moon and the sun, and then the moon moved in front of the sun and turned it black. Suddenly she felt herself being shaken by the shoulder.
“I think you may have fallen asleep,” the First said.
“Perhaps, but it feels as though I was in another place,” Ayla said. “I saw the sun turn black.”
“You may have been, but it’s time for us to leave. It’s getting light out.”
When they walked out of the cave, several people were standing around the fire, warming themselves. A Zelandoni handed each of them a cup of hot liquid.
“This is just a morning drink,” he said, smiling. “It was a new experience for me,” he added, “very powerful.”
“For me, as well,” Ayla said. “How is the acolyte who drank a whole cup?”
“She’s still feeling the effects. They are very long lasting, but she is being carefully watched.”
The two women walked back to the camp. Although it was very early in the morning, Jondalar was awake. Ayla wondered if he had gone to bed at all. He smiled and looked relieved when he saw Ayla and the First returning.
“I didn’t think you’d be there all night,” Jondalar said.
“I didn’t think we would, either,” Ayla said.
“I’m going to the zelandonia lodge. You may want to rest today, Ayla,” the First said.
“Yes, I may, but right now, I want something to eat. I’m hungry.”
It was another three days before the travelers with Ayla’s Donier Tour left the Summer Meeting of the South Land Zelandonii, during which time Amelana had a small crisis. A very charming, somewhat older and apparently high-status man had been pressing her to stay and become his mate, and she was tempted. She told the First that she needed to talk to her, and maybe Ayla, too. When they met, she began by presenting reasons why she should stay and mate the man who obviously wanted her so much, cajoling and smiling as though she felt she needed permission and was trying to get their agreement. The First had been more than aware of what was going on, and had made a few inquiries.
“Amelana, you are a grown woman who has been mated and unfortunately widowed, and will soon be a mother who will have the responsibility of taking care of the new life that is growing inside you. The choice is entirely yours. You don’t need my permission or anyone else’s,” the First began. “But since you asked to speak with me, I presume it is because you want some advice.”
“Well, yes, I guess so,” Amelana said. She seemed surprised that it had been so easy. She thought she would have to wheedle and coax the Zelandoni to agree to the proposed new mating.
“First of all, have you met the people of his Cave, or any of his relatives?” the woman asked.
“Sort of. I’ve shared a few meals with some cousins, but mostly there have been so many feasts and celebrations, we haven’t needed to eat with his Cave,” Amelana said.
“Do you remember what you said when you asked to come along on this Journey? You said that you wanted to go home so you could be with your mother and family to have your baby. More than that, you weren’t happy when Jacharal moved with friends and relatives to start a new Cave—at least in part, I’m sure, because you didn’t know them very well. They were all excited about starting in someplace new, but you had already left the familiar behind and were in a new place. You wanted to be settled and wanted people to be excited about your new baby. Isn’t that right?” the First said.
“Yes, but he’s older. He’s settled. He’s not going to start a new Cave. I asked him,” Amelana said.
The First smiled. “At least you asked that. He is a charming, attractive man, but he is older. Did you wonder why he wants a new mate now? Did you ask if he already has a mate? Or if he ever had one?”
“Not exactly. He said he had been waiting for just the right woman,” Amelana said, frowning.
“Just the right woman to help his first woman take care of her five children?”
“His first woman? Five children?” Amelana’s frown deepened. “He didn’t say anything about five children.”
“Did you ask him?”
“No, but why didn’t he tell me?”
“Because he didn’t have to, Amelana. You didn’t ask him. His mate told him to find another woman to help her, but everyone here knows he already has one woman and her children at his hearth. Since she’s his first, she would have the status and the say. She’s the one who brings the status to that arrangement, in any case. He doesn’t have much besides good looks and a charming way. We’re leaving tomorrow. If you decide to mate him, no one here will bring you back home to your mother’s Cave.”
“I am not staying here,” Amelana said, angrily. “But why would he trick me like that? Why didn’t he tell me?”
“You’re an attractive woman, Amelana, but very young, and you like attention. He will no doubt find a second woman, but she won’t be young and pretty, with no one to stand up for her once we’re gone. That is what he’d rather have. That’s why you are so right for him. The woman he’ll find will likely be older, maybe not very attractive. She may have a couple of children of her own, or if he’s lucky she’ll be a woman who couldn’t have children, and will be happy to find a charming man with a family, willing to take her in and make her part of his family. I’m sure that’s what his first woman is hoping for, not a pretty young woman who will leave with the first man who makes her a better offer. I’m sure that’s what you would do, even if it means you would lose status.”
Amelana looked shocked at the First’s straightforward remarks; then she started to cry. “Am I really that bad?”
“I didn’t say you were bad, Amelana. I said you were young, and like most attractive young women, especially those with high status, you are used to gettting your own way. But you have a child on the way. You are going to have to learn to put your child’s needs ahead of your own wants.”
“I don’t want to be a bad mother,” Amelana wailed. “But what if I don’t know how to be a good mother?”
“You will be,” Ayla said, speaking for the first time, “especially once you are home with your mother. She will help you. And even if you didn’t have a mother, you would fall in love with your baby just like most mothers do. It’s the way the Great Mother made women, at least most women, and many men, too. You are a loving person, Amelana. You will be a fine mother.”
The First smiled. “Why don’t you go and get your things ready, Amelana,” she said, more kindly. “We’ll be leaving early tomorrow.”
The company of travelers set out the next day, following one of the three rivers that came together near the Seventh Cave of South Land Zelandonii. They used the shallow Crossing Place at the Campsite to reach the other side, and kept to the river’s meandering course in the beginning. Then, rather than following the twists and turns of the waterway, they decided to strike out across country heading more east than south.
This was all new country to Ayla and to Jonayla, of course, but she was so young, it was unlikely that she would remember when she got older that she had been this way before. It was unfamiliar to Jondalar as well, though he knew he had been here with Willamar and his mother, and Marthona’s other children. Jonokol hadn’t traveled much, so it was new to him as well, and Amelana didn’t recall anything about the region, though she had come through it from her Southern Cave. It just wasn’t anything she paid attention to at the time. Her mind had been filled with her exciting new mate, who couldn’t seem to stay away from her, and daydreams about her new home. The First had been in the general vicinity several times, but not for quite a while, and she didn’t recall it except in a general way. It was the Trade Master who knew it well. He had brought his two assistants before, but they would need to know it equally well. Willamar was looking for certain landmarks to help him guide the way.
As they traveled, the landscape was changing in subtle ways every day. They were gaining elevation and the country was becoming more rugged. There were more limestone outcrops, often accompanied by brush and even small woods growing around them, and less open grassland. Though they were increasing altitude, it was also gradually warming as the summer wore on, and the vegetation was changing as they journeyed south. They saw fewer coniferous trees, like spruces, firs, and junipers, and more deciduous types like larches, and the small-leaf variety such as willows and birches, also fruit and nut trees and occasionally big-leaf maples and oaks. Even the grasses changed, less rye grass and more of the wheat types such as emmer and spelt, although mixed fields were common that included triticale and many herbaceous plants.
While traveling, they hunted a variety of large and small game as they came upon it and gathered the vegetable produce that grew so abundantly at this time of year, but they weren’t thinking about storing for future use, so their needs were not great. Except for Jonayla, they were healthy adults who were capable of foraging for food and taking care of themselves. The large woman did not hunt or gather, but as the First, she contributed in her own way. She walked some of the time, and the more she did, the more she was able to, but when she got tired, she rode the travois and did not slow them down. It was primarily Whinney who pulled her on her special pole-drag, but Ayla and Jondalar were training the other horses to pull the large travois as well. Though they moved slowly enough that the horses could graze along the way, especially in the morning and evening, they made good time, and with the weather remaining pleasant, their trek felt like an agreeable excursion.
They had been traveling for several days, heading generally southeast; then one morning Willamar started out due east, at times even a little north, almost as though he were following a trail. They climbed up around a jutting ridge and behind it there was a trail, but barely wide enough for the extended legs of the First’s pole-drag.
“Perhaps you should walk, Zelandoni,” Willamar said. “It’s not much farther.”
“Yes, I think I will,” she said. “If I recall right, the trail narrows more up ahead.”
“There is a wide spot around the next bend. You might want to leave the pole-drag there, Ayla,” Willamar suggested. “I don’t think the trail will accommodate it.”
“Pole-drags don’t do well on steep trails. We found that out before,” she said, including Jondalar with a glance.
When they reached the wide place, they helped the Donier down, and proceeded to unhitch the conveyance. Then they continued walking up the trail, with Willamar in the lead and the rest of the travelers behind him. Ayla, Jondalar, and Jonayla with the animals brought up the rear.
They traversed a few more legs of the zigzag path and one steep climb up the trail and suddenly found themselves on a relatively broad, grassy shelf at the back of which, amid the smoke of a few fires, was a collection of rather substantial shelters made of wood and hides, with grass thatch roofs. A crowd of people was standing in front of the dwellings facing the approaching visitors, but Ayla could not tell if they were especially glad to see them. They seemed defensive; no one was smiling and some held spears, though they were not aimed at anyone.
Ayla had seen that kind of reception before and subtly signaled the wolf to stay close. She could hear the slight rumble in his throat as he moved in front of her in a protective stance. She looked at Jondalar, who had put himself in front of Jonayla and held her there, though she struggled to see around him. The horses were prancing lightly with nervousness, and their ears were pricked forward. Jondalar took a better grip on the lead ropes of Racer and Gray and looked toward Ayla as she put a hand on Whinney’s neck.
“Willamar!” a voice called out. “Is that you?”
“Farnadal! Of course it’s me, and a few others, mostly from the Ninth Cave. I thought you’d be expecting us. Aren’t Kimeran and Jondecam here yet?” Willamar said.
“No, they aren’t,” Farnadal said. “Should they be?”
“Are they coming?” a female voice said, with a happy touch of excitement.
“We expected them to be here already. No wonder you look so surprised to see us,” Willamar said.
“You are not the one who surprises me,” Farnadal said, with a sardonic look.
“I think some introductions are in order,” Willamar said. “I’ll begin with the First Among Those Who Serve The Great Earth Mother.”
Farnadal gasped, then caught himself and stepped forward. Once he looked more closely he recognized her both from her general description and from her tattoos. He had met her before but it had been some time and they had both changed since then.
“In the name of Doni you are welcome, Zelandoni the First,” he said, then held out both hands and continued with the formal greeting. The rest of the travelers were introduced, with Jondalar and Ayla last.
“This is Jondalar of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, Master Flint-Knapper …,” the Master Trader began, then continued with Ayla’s introduction.
“This is Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, formerly of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi …,” Willamar said. He noticed Farnadal’s expression change as he gave her names and ties, and especially when she greeted him and he heard her speak.
The introductions, by inference, had told him quite a lot about the woman. First that she was a foreigner, which was obvious when she spoke, who had been adopted as a full Zelandonii, in her own right, not just mated to someone who was a Zelandonii, which was unusual in itself. Then that she belonged to the zelandonia, and had become an acolyte of the First. And although the man was holding ropes that had been tied around two horses and was controlling them, she was given the credit for all the animals. It was obvious that she had power over the other horse, and the wolf even without ropes. It seemed to him that she must already be a Zelandoni, not just an acolyte, even of the First.
Then he remembered a troupe of traveling Storytellers a year or so back that had some new and wildly imaginative stories about horses carrying people and a wolf who loved a woman, but he never dreamed there could be any truth in them. Yet, here they were. He hadn’t seen the horses carrying people, but he was beginning to wonder how much truth was in those stories.
A tall woman, whom Ayla thought looked somehow familiar, came forward and asked Willamar, “Did you say you were expecting to see Jondecam and Kimeran here?”
“It has been a long time since you have seen them, hasn’t it, Camora?” Willamar said.
“Yes, it has,” she said.
“You resemble your kin, especially your brother, Jondecam, but Kimeran, too,” Willamar said.
“We are all related,” Camora said, explaining to Farnadal, “Kimeran is my uncle, but he was much younger than his sister, who was my mother. When my mother’s mother joined the spirits of the next world, my mother raised him like a son, along with Jondecam and me. Then when the man to whom she was mated passed on to the next world, she became a Zelandoni. It runs in her family; her grandfa was also a Zelandoni. I wonder if he still walks this world?”
“Yes, he does, in fact, and while age has slowed his step, he is still Zelandoni of the Seventh Cave. Your mother is now the spiritual leader of the Second,” Willamar said.
“The one who was Zelandoni of the Second Cave before her, the one who taught me to make images, walks the next world now,” Jonokol added. “That was a sad day for me, but your mother is a good Donier.”
“Why did you think Kimeran and Jondecam would be here?” Farnadal asked.
“They were supposed to leave shortly after we did and come straight here. We made stops along the way,” the Zelandoni Who Was First said. “I am taking Ayla on her Donier Tour, and Jonokol, too—I should say Zelandoni of the Nineteenth. We never made much of a Tour when he was my acolyte, and he needs to visit some of the Sacred Sites. From here we were all going to travel together to see one of the most important painted caves. It is in the southeast of Zelandonii territory, and then we’ll visit relatives of Kimeran’s mate, Beladora. She is from the Giornadonii, the people who live on the long peninsula that juts into the Southern Sea, south of the eastern Zelandonii territory.
“As a young man, Kimeran traveled with his sister-mother on her Donier Tour to the northern end of the Giornadonii territory. He met Beladora, mated her, and brought her back with him. The story is similar to Amelana’s,” the First said, indicating the pretty, young woman in their group, “but this young woman’s story is much less fortunate. Her mate now walks in the next world, and she wanted to return to her own people. She misses her mother. She is carrying new life, and would like to be near her mother when her child is born.”
“That’s understandable,” Camora said, smiling sympathetically at Amelana. “No matter how kind people may be, a woman always wants her own mother with her when she gives birth, especially the first time.”
Ayla and the First exchanged quick glances. Camora probably missed her people. Even though a woman might find a visitor from another place so attractive that she just had to go away with him, it apparently wasn’t so easy to live with the strangers who were the kin of her mate. Though they might be people from the same territory, with beliefs and customs generally similar, each Cave had its own ways, and a new person was always at a disadvantage in terms of status.
Ayla recognized that her situation was not the same as the two young women. Although she was called Ayla of the Mamutoi, she had been more of a stranger to them than she had been to the Zelandonii, and they to her. When she left the Clan, she had hoped to find people like herself, but she didn’t know where to look. She had lived alone in a pleasant valley for several years until she found Jondalar, who had been wounded by a lion. Except for him, the Mamutoi were the first of her kind she had met since she lost her family when she was a child of five. She had been raised by the Clan, who were not just people of a different Cave or terrritory, or with dissimilar hair or eyes or skin, or who spoke an unknown language. The people of the Clan were genuinely different. Their language capabilities were distinctive, the way they thought, the way their brains functioned was unusual, even the shape of their heads and to some extent their bodies were not quite the same.
There was no doubt that they were people, and there were many similarities between them and the ones they called “the Others.” They hunted the animals in their vicinity, and gathered the food that grew. They shaped tools out of stone and with them made other objects like clothing and containers and shelters. They cared about each other and took care of each other, and even recognized that Ayla was a child when they found her, and though she was one of the Others, they took care of her. But they were different in some ways that, even though she grew up with them, she never fully understood.
Though she sympathized with the young women who lived far away from their families and missed them, she didn’t fully empathize with them. At least they were living with people like themselves. She was grateful to have found her own kind, and especially to have found a man who cared about her among them. She couldn’t even put into words how much she cared for Jondalar. He was more than she could ever have hoped for. He not only said he loved her, he treated her with love. He was kind, he was generous, he adored her daughter. If it weren’t for him, she would not have been able to be an acolyte, to be a part of the zelandonia. He supported her, took care of Jonayla when she wasn’t home, even though she knew he would rather she was there with him, and he could bring her to unbelievable joy when they shared Pleasures. She trusted him implicitly and completely, and could not believe how fortunate she was.
Camora looked at the Zelandoni Who Was First. “Do you think something might have happened to Kimeran and Jondecam?” she asked, with a worried frown. “Accidents can happen.”
“Yes, they can, Camora, but it could also be that they were delayed and didn’t start as soon as they planned. Or something may have occurred at their Cave that made them change their mind and decide not to go. They would have no way of letting us know. We will wait here a few days, if Farnadal doesn’t mind,” she glanced at him and he smiled and nodded, “before we continue on our Journey, to give them a chance to catch up.”
“Perhaps we can do even more,” Jondalar said. “Horses can travel much faster than people can. We can ride back along the trail they were on and see if we can find them. If they are not too far away, we might. At least we can try.”
“That’s a good plan, Jondalar,” Ayla said.
“So they do carry you on their backs, like the Storytellers said,” Farnadal said.
“Have the Storytellers been here recently?” Ayla asked.
“No, about a year ago. But I thought someone had just made up some remarkable new stories. I didn’t know they were true,” he said.
“We’ll start in the morning,” Jondalar said. “It’s too late now.”
Everyone from the Cave who could was gathered at the bottom of the slope that led up to the ledge where they lived. Ayla and Jondalar had tied riding blankets and carry-baskets that held their camping gear and supplies on all three horses, and put halters on the stallion and young mare. Then Jondalar lifted Jonayla up to Gray’s back.
Does that little girl control a horse, too? Farnadal wondered. All by herself? She’s so small and a horse is a big powerful animal. And those horses should be afraid of that wolf. Anytime I’ve seen a wolf get close to a horse before, they would shy and run away, or if they thought one was ready to attack, they would try to trample it.
What kind of powerful magic does that woman have? For a moment he felt a tingle of fear, then he shook himself. She seemed like just an ordinary woman; she talked to the other women, helped with the work, tended to the children. She is an attractive woman, especially when she smiles, and except for her accent, you wouldn’t think there was anything remarkable about her, or even unusual. Yet, there she is leaping up onto the back of that dun-yellow mare.
He watched them start off, the man in the lead, the child in the middle, and the woman bringing up the rear. The man was big for the compact horse, which he called Racer, his feet nearly dragged the ground when he sat on the dark brown horse—an unusual color that he had not seen before. But as the animals began a fast trot, the man sat farther back on the horse, pulled up his knees, and hugged the body of the stallion with his legs. The girl sat forward, almost riding the neck of the taupe-colored young mare, her little legs sticking out. Again the grayish-tan horse’s coat was an unusual color, though he had seen it before when he’d made a trip north. Some called the taupe color gruya; Ayla just called it gray, and it had became the mare’s name.
Not long after they started out, the fast trot speeded up to a gallop. Without encumbrances, like the pole-drags, the horses liked to stretch their legs, especially on a morning ride. Ayla leaned forward low on Whinney’s neck, which was her signal to the horse to go as fast as she wished. Wolf yipped and joined in the sprint. Jondalar leaned forward as well, keeping his knees bent and close to the animal. Jonayla grabbed Gray’s mane with one hand, and with her cheek resting high on the horse’s neck while she squinted to see ahead, she wrapped her other arm around as best she could. With the wind in their faces, the fast ride was exhilarating, and the riders let the horses have their run and delighted in it.
After they had worked out all the kinks, Ayla sat up somewhat, Jonayla sat lower near the base of Gray’s neck, and Jondalar sat a little straighter and let his legs hang down. They all felt more relaxed and cantered on at a somewhat slower pace. Ayla gave Wolf a signal and said “Search,” which he knew meant search for people.
There were very few people on earth at that time. They were far outnumbered by millions of other creatures from the very large to the very small, and those humans who were there tended to cluster close together. When Wolf sampled all the smells that were in the wind, he could identify many different animals in various stages of life, and death. He seldom detected the scent of human on the wind, but when he did, he knew it.
The rest of them also searched, scanning the landscape to see if they could find any sign that people had passed by recently. They didn’t think they would discover anyone so close, sure that the other party of travelers would have sent a runner ahead if they were in any kind of trouble and that close to their destination.
Around midday, they took a break for a meal and to let the horses graze. When they continued, they scanned the countryside more intently. There was a trail of sorts that they followed: occasional blazes on trees, limbs on brush bent in certain ways, sometimes a small pile of stones tapering from front to back, and rarely a mark on a rock made with red-ocher paint. They searched until sundown, then made camp and set up their traveling tents near an active stream that had begun as a spring on higher ground.
Ayla took out some traveling cakes made with dried bilberries, rendered fat, and dried meat that had been ground with a pestle into small pieces, and broke them into boiling water, then added some extra dried meat to the soup. Jondalar and Jonayla took a walk in the rather flat meadow nearby, and the child returned with her hands full of onions they had found, mostly by smell. The level ground had been a wetland earlier in the season, the result of the stream flooding, and as it dried it became a suitable place for certain plants to grow. Ayla thought she might take a look at it the next morning to gather more onions and whatever else she might find.
They started out the next day after their meal, finishing the soup made the night before, which included some additional roots and greens that Ayla had found in her quick exploratory hike around the area. Their second day was as disappointing as the first; they found no sign that any people had passed that way recently. Ayla did see tracks of many animals and began pointing them out to Jonayla, showing her the subtle aspects that indicated the movements of various creatures. By the time they stopped for a midday meal on the third day, both Jondalar and Ayla were feeling some concern. They knew how much Kimeran and Jondecam wanted to see Camora and they knew that Beladora was anxious to visit her family.
Had the ones they were expecting just not made the trip? Had something come up that caused them to cancel or postpone their planned journey, or had something happened to them along the way?
“We could go back to Big River and the First Cave of South Land Zelandonii and see if they made the crossing,” Ayla said.
“You and Jonayla wouldn’t have to make that long trip. I could go and you could return to let everyone know. If we don’t return in a few days, they’ll be worrying about us,” Jondalar said.
“You are probably right,” Ayla said, “but let’s keep looking, at least until tomorrow. Then we can decide.”
They made camp late, and avoided talking about the decision they knew they would have to make. In the morning, the air felt damp and they noticed clouds had formed in the north. In the early morning the wind was erratic, coming from every direction. Then it shifted and started blowing from the north, with some strong gusts, which made the horses nervous as well as the people. Ayla always packed extra clothing for warmth in case of shifts in the weather, or if they needed to be up late in the evening.
The glaciers, beginning in the farthest north and lying like a huge pancake on the curved top of the earth, presented walls of solid ice more than two miles thick only a few hundred miles away. On the hottest days of summer, the nights were usually cool and even the daytime weather could change abruptly. The north wind brought a chill and a reminder that even in summer, winter ruled the land.
But the north wind brought something else as well. In the bustle of striking camp and preparing a meal, no one noticed the shift in Wolf’s posture. But a loud yip that was almost a bark got Ayla’s attention. He was standing, almost leaning into the wind, with his nose high and forward. He had picked up a scent. Each time they started out from camp, she had given him the signal to search for people. The wolf’s highly developed sense of smell had found something, some small whiff brought in by the wind.
“Look, mother! Look at Wolf!” Jonayla said. She had seen his bearing, too.
“He’s located something,” Jondalar said. “Let’s hurry and finish packing.”
They threw things into the pack baskets much less neatly than usual, and tied them on the horses along with the riding blankets, put the halters on Racer and Gray, doused the fire, and mounted.
“Find them, Wolf,” Ayla said. “Show us which way to go.” She made the Clan hand signals when she gave the command.
The wolf headed north, but took a more easterly direction than they had been traveling. If what he had scented was the group they were supposed to meet, they seemed to have veered off the infrequently marked trail, or perhaps they had traveled into the eastern highland for some other reason. Wolf moved with single-minded purpose using the ground-covering lope that was common to his species; the horses with Whinney in the lead followed behind. They traveled all morning and past the time when they would normally have stopped for a midday meal.
Ayla thought she caught a whiff of something burning, then Jondalar called out to her, “Ayla, do you see smoke ahead?”
She did see a faint trace of smoke rising in the distance and urged Whinney to a faster pace. She was holding Gray’s lead rope, and glanced back at her beloved daughter on the young mare’s back to make sure Jonayla was prepared for the increased speed. The girl smiled at her mother in excitement, which indicated that she was prepared. Jonayla loved riding her horse by herself. Even when her mother or Jondalar wanted her to ride in front on one of their mounts for safety because the trail was rough, or so she could rest and not have to hold on as firmly, the child resisted, though it seldom did any good.
When they saw a camp with people around it, they slowed down as they approached. They weren’t sure who the people were. Someone else could also be traveling, and rushing into a camp of strangers on the backs of horses could cause distress for everyone.