The seasons changed in reverse as the hunting party traveled south, from winter to fall. Threatening clouds and the smell of snow hurried their departure; they had no desire to be caught by the first real blizzard of the peninsula’s northern winter. The warmer weather at the southern end gave a false feeling of approaching spring, with an unsettling twist. Rather than new shoots and budding wild flowers, tall grass swayed in golden waves on the steppes, and the bloom of the temperate trees at the protected tip was in shades of crimson and amber patchworked with evergreen. But the view from the distance was deceiving. Most deciduous trees had dropped their leaves and the onslaught of winter was close behind.
It took longer to return than to reach the site of the mammoth herd. The fast, distance-devouring pace was impossible with their heavy loads. But Ayla was weighed down with more than mammoth. Guilt, anxiety, and depression were far heavier burdens. No one spoke of the incident, but it wasn’t forgotten. Often, her casual glance caught someone staring at her before they turned aside, quickly, and few spoke to her unless it was necessary. She felt isolated, lonely, and more than a little frightened. As little conversation as she had, it was enough for her to learn the penalty for her crime.
The people left behind at the cave had been watching for the return of the hunters. From the time of their earliest expected arrival, someone was posted near the ridge where there was a good view of the steppes, most often one of the children.
When Vorn first took his turn early in the day, he stared out at the distant panorama conscientiously, but then he got bored. He didn’t like being off by himself without even Borg to play with. He devised imaginary hunts and jabbed his not quite full-sized spear into the ground so often that the point became frayed despite fire hardening. It was only by accident that he happened to glance down the hill as the hunting party came into view.
“Tusks! Tusks!” Vorn shouted, racing back to the cave.
“Tusks?” Aga asked. “What do you mean, ‘tusks’?”
“They’re back!” Vorn gesticulated excitedly. “Brun and Droog and the rest, and I saw them carrying tusks!”
Everyone ran halfway to the steppes to greet the victorious hunters. But when they reached them, it was apparent something was wrong. The hunt was successful, the hunters should have been jubilant. Instead their step was heavy and their manner subdued. Brun was grim, and Iza needed only one look at Ayla to know something terrible had happened that involved her daughter.
While the hunting party unloaded some of their burden on those who had remained behind, the reason for the somber silence unfolded. Ayla trudged up the slope with bowed head, oblivious to the surreptitious glances cast in her direction. Iza was dumbfounded. If she had ever worried over the unorthodox actions of her adopted daughter before, it was nothing to the icy shaft of fear she felt for her now.
When they reached the cave, Oga and Ebra brought the child to Iza. She cut away the birchbark cast and examined the boy.
“His arm should be as good as new before long,” she pronounced. “He’ll be scarred, but the wounds are healing and the arm is set well. I’d better put another cast on it, though.”
The women breathed easier. They knew Ayla was inexperienced, and though they had little choice but to allow the girl to treat Brac, they were concerned. A hunter needed two good strong arms. If Brac lost the use of one, he would never become a leader as he was destined. If he was unable to hunt, he would not even become a man, but would live out his life in the ambiguous limbo in which older boys, who had reached physical maturity but had not made their first kill, existed.
Brun and Broud were relieved, too. But for Brun, at least, the news was received with mixed emotions. It made his decision more difficult. Ayla had not only saved Brac’s life, she had assured his useful existence. The matter had been put off long enough. He signaled Mog-ur and they walked off together.
The story, as Brun explained it, left Creb deeply troubled. Ayla was his responsibility to raise and train and he had obviously failed. But there was something else that troubled him even more. When he first learned of the animals the men kept finding, he felt it had nothing to do with spirits. He even wondered if Zoug or one of the other men was playing some kind of elaborate joke on the rest. It seemed unlikely, but his intuition told him the deaths were caused by a human agent. He had also been aware of changes in Ayla, changes he should have recognized now that he thought about it. Women did not walk with the quiet stealth of a hunter, they made noise and with good reason. More than once, Ayla had startled him by approaching so silently he didn’t hear her coming. There were other things, too, small things that should have made him suspicious.
But he was blinded by his love for her. He didn’t allow himself to imagine she could be hunting, he was far too aware of the consequences. It caused the old magician to question his own integrity, his ability to perform his function. He had let his feeling for the girl come before the spiritual safekeeping of the clan. Did he still merit their trust? Was he still worthy of Ursus? Could he still justifiably continue as Mog-ur?
Creb took the blame for her actions on himself. He should have questioned her; he should not have let her roam so freely; he should have disciplined her more severely. But all his anguish over what he should have done didn’t change in the least what he still had to do. The decision was Brun’s, but it was his function to carry it out, his duty to kill the child he loved.
“It’s only a guess that she’s the one who has been killing the animals,” Brun said. “We need to question her, but she did kill the hyena and she had a sling. She had to practice on something, there’s no other way she could have gained such skill. She’s better than Zoug with that weapon, Mog-ur, and she’s female! How did she ever learn? I’ve wondered before if there isn’t some male in her, and I’m not the only one. She’s as tall as a man and not even a woman yet. Do you think there’s any truth in the idea that she may never become one?”
“Ayla’s a girl, Brun, and someday she’ll become a woman, just like any other girl—or she would have. She’s a female who used a weapon.” The magician’s jaw was set; he would not allow himself to grasp at false illusions.
“Well, I still want to know how long she’s been hunting. But it can wait until morning. We’re all tired now; it was a long journey. Tell Ayla we’ll question her tomorrow.”
Creb limped back to the cave, but stopped at his hearth only long enough to signal Iza to tell the girl she would be questioned in the morning, before continuing on to his small annex. He did not return to his hearth all night.
The women stared silently after the men who were walking into the woods with Ayla trailing behind. They were at a loss, filled with mixed emotions. Ayla was confused herself. She had always known it was wrong to hunt, if not how serious the crime was. I wonder if it would have made any difference if I had known? she asked herself. No. I wanted to hunt. I would have hunted anyway. But I don’t want the evil ones to chase me all the way to the spirit world. She shuddered at the thought.
The girl feared the invisible, malign entities as much as she believed in the power of protective totems. Not even the Spirit of the Cave Lion could protect her from them, could he? I must have been wrong, she thought. My totem wouldn’t have given me a sign to let me hunt knowing I’d die for it. He probably left me the first time I picked up a sling. She didn’t like thinking about it.
The men came to a clearing and arranged themselves on logs and boulders on either side of Brun, while Ayla slumped to the ground at his feet. Brun tapped her shoulder to allow her to look up at him and began without preliminaries.
“Were you the one who killed the meat eaters the hunters kept finding, Ayla?”
“Yes,” she nodded. There was no point in trying to hide anything now. Her secret was out and they would have known if she tried to evade their questions. She could no more lie than any other member of the clan could.
“How did you learn to use a sling?”
“I learned from Zoug,” she replied.
“Zoug!” Brun echoed. All heads turned accusingly toward the old man.
“I never taught the girl to use a sling,” he gestured defensively.
“Zoug didn’t know I was learning from him.” Ayla motioned quickly, springing to the old sling-hunter’s defense. “I watched him when he was teaching Vorn.”
“How long have you been hunting?” Brun asked next.
“Two summers, now. And the summer before that I just practiced, but I didn’t hunt.”
“That’s as long as Vorn has been training,” Zoug commented.
“I know,” Ayla said. “I started the same day he did.”
“How do you know exactly when Vorn started, Ayla?” Brun asked, curious how she could be so sure.
“I was there, I watched him.”
“What do you mean, you were there? Where?”
“At the practice field. Iza sent me to get some wild cherry bark, but when I got there, you were all there,” she explained. “Iza needed the cherry bark, and I didn’t know how long you were going to stay, so I waited and watched. Zoug was giving Vorn his first lesson.”
“You watched Zoug give Vorn his first lesson?” Broud cut in. “Are you sure it was his first?” Broud remembered that day only too well. It still brought a blush of shame to his face.
“Yes, Broud. I’m sure,” she replied.
“What else did you see?” Broud’s eyes were narrowed and his gesture clipped. Brun, too, suddenly remembered what had happened in the practice field the day Zoug began Vorn’s training, and he wasn’t happy at the thought of a female witnessing the incident.
Ayla hesitated. “I saw the other men practicing, too,” she answered, trying to evade the issue, then she saw Brun’s eyes become stern. “And I saw Broud push Zoug down, and you got very mad at him, Brun.”
“You saw that! You saw the whole thing?” Broud demanded. He was livid with anger and embarrassment. Of all people, of all the people in the clan, why was she the one who had to see it? The more he thought about it, the more mortified he became, and the more furious. She was witness to Brun’s harshest denunciation of him. Broud even remembered how badly he missed his shots and suddenly recalled that he had missed the hyena, too. The hyena she killed. A female, that female, had shown him up.
Every kind thought, every bit of gratitude he had so recently felt toward her vanished. I’ll be so glad when she’s dead, he thought. She deserves it. He couldn’t bear the idea of her continuing to live with her knowledge of his supreme moment of shame.
Brun watched the son of his mate and could almost read his thoughts from the expressions on his face. Too bad, he thought, just when there was some chance of ending the animosity between them, not that it matters anymore. He continued the questioning.
“You said you began to practice the same day as Vorn, tell me about it.”
“After you left, I walked across the field and saw the sling Broud threw on the ground. Everyone forgot about it after you got mad at Broud. I don’t know why, but I just wondered if I could do it. I remembered Zoug’s lesson and tried. It wasn’t easy, but I kept trying all afternoon. I forgot how late it was getting. I hit the post once, I think it was just an accident, but it made me think I could do it again if I worked at it, so I kept the sling.”
“I suppose you learned how to make one from Zoug, too.”
“Yes.”
“And you practiced that summer?”
“Yes.”
“Then you decided to hunt with it, but why did you hunt meat eaters? They’re more difficult, more dangerous, too. We’ve found dead wolves, even dead lynxes. Zoug always said they could be killed with a sling, you proved he was right, but why those?”
“I knew I could never bring anything back for the clan, I knew I wasn’t supposed to touch a weapon, but I wanted to hunt, I wanted to try, anyway. Meat eaters are always stealing food from us; I thought if I killed them, I would be helping. And it wouldn’t be such a waste, we don’t eat them. So I decided to hunt them.”
It satisfied Brun’s curiosity about why she chose predators, but not why she wanted to hunt in the first place. She was female; no woman ever wanted to hunt.
“You know it was dangerous to try for the hyena from so far away; you might have hit Brac instead.” Brun was probing. He had been ready to try his bola, though the chance of killing the boy with one of the large stones was more than a possibility. But instant death from a cracked skull was preferable to the one the child faced, and at least they would have had the boy’s body to bury, so he could be sent on his way to the spirit world with proper rituals. They would have been lucky to find scattered bones if the hyena had had his way.
“I knew I could hit it,” Ayla answered simply.
“How could you be sure? The hyena was out of range.”
“He wasn’t out of my range. I’ve hit animals before from that distance. I don’t miss often.”
“I thought I saw the marks of two stones,” Brun motioned.
“I threw two stones,” Ayla confirmed. “I taught myself after the lynx attacked me.”
“You were attacked by a lynx?” Brun pressed.
“Yes,” Ayla nodded, and told of her close call with the large cat.
“What is your range?” Brun asked. “No, don’t tell me, show me. Do you have your sling?”
Ayla nodded and got up. They all moved to the far end of the clearing where a small brook trickled over a rocky bed. She selected a few pebbles of the right size and shape. Round ones were best for accuracy and distance, but jagged, sharp-edged broken pieces would work.
“The small white rock beside the large boulder at the other end,” she motioned.
Brun nodded. It was easily half again as far as any of them could hurl a stone. She sighted carefully, inserted a stone in her sling, and had a second one in the sling and on its way the next instant. Zoug jogged over to confirm her accuracy.
“There are two fresh chips knocked out of the white stone. She hit the mark both times,” he announced on his return, with a trace of wonder and the barest hint of pride.
She was female, she should never have touched the sling—Clan tradition was absolutely clear on that—but she was good. She gave him credit for teaching her, whether he knew it or not. That double-stone technique, he thought, that’s a trick I’d like to learn. Zoug’s pride was the pride of a true teacher for a pupil who excelled; a student who paid attention, learned well, and then did the master one better. And she had proved him right.
Brun’s eye caught a movement in the clearing.
“Ayla!” he cried. “That rabbit. Get him!”
She glanced in the direction he was pointing, saw the small animal bounding across the field, and dropped him. There was no need to check her accuracy. Brun looked at the girl appreciatively. She’s quick, he thought. The idea of a woman hunting offended the leader’s sense of propriety, but with Brun, the clan always came first; their safety, their security, their prosperity were foremost. In a corner of his mind, he knew what an asset she could be to the clan. No, it’s impossible, he said to himself. It’s against the traditions, it’s not the Clan way.
Creb didn’t have the same appreciation for her skill. If he had any doubts left, her exhibition convinced him. Ayla had been hunting.
“Why did you ever pick up a sling in the first place?” Mog-ur gestured with a bleak, dark look.
“I don’t know,” she shook her head and looked down. More than anything, she hated the thought of the magician’s displeasure.
“You did more than touch it. You hunted with it, killed with it, when you knew it was wrong.”
“My totem gave me a sign, Creb. At least I thought it was a sign.” She was undoing the knots in her amulet. “After I decided to hunt, I found this.” She handed the fossil cast to Mog-ur.
A sign? Her totem gave her a sign? There was consternation among the men. Ayla’s revelation put a new twist on the situation, but why did she decide to hunt?
The magician examined it closely. It was a very unusual stone, shaped like a sea animal, but definitely a stone. It could have been a sign, but that didn’t prove anything. Signs were between a person and his totem; no one could understand another person’s signs. Mog-ur gave it back to the girl.
“Creb,” she said pleadingly. “I thought my totem was testing me. I thought the way Broud treated me was the test. I thought if I could learn to accept it, my totem would let me hunt.” Quizzical glances were cast in the young man’s direction to see his reaction. Did she really think Broud was used by her totem to test her? Broud looked uncomfortable. “I thought when the lynx attacked me, it was a test, too. I almost stopped hunting after that, I was too afraid. Then I got the idea to try two stones, so I would have something to try again if I missed the first time. I even thought my totem gave me the idea.”
“I see,” the holy man said. “I’d like some time to meditate on this, Brun.”
“Maybe we should all think about it. We’ll meet again tomorrow morning,” he announced, “without the girl.”
“What is there to think about?” Broud objected. “We all know the punishment she deserves.”
“Her punishment could be dangerous to the whole clan, Broud. I need to be absolutely sure there isn’t something we’ve overlooked before I condemn her. We will meet again tomorrow.”
As the men returned to the cave, they talked among themselves.
“I never knew of a woman who wanted to hunt,” Droog said. “Could it have something to do with her totem? It’s a male totem.”
“I didn’t want to question Mog-ur’s judgment at the time,” Zoug said, “but I always did wonder about her Cave Lion, even with the marks on her leg. I don’t doubt it anymore. He was right, he always is.”
“Could she be part male?” Crug commented. “There’s been some talk.”
“That would account for her unwomanly ways,” Dorv added.
“She’s female all right, there’s no doubt of that,” Broud said. “She must be killed, everyone knows it.”
“You’re probably right, Broud,” Crug said.
“Even if she is part male, I don’t like the idea of a woman hunting,” Dorv commented dourly. “I don’t even like her being part of the clan. She’s too different.”
“You know I’ve always felt that way, Dorv,” Broud agreed. “I don’t know why Brun wants to talk about it again. If I were leader, I’d just do it and be done with it.”
“It’s not a decision to make lightly, Broud,” Grod said. “What’s your hurry? One more day won’t matter.”
Broud hurried ahead without bothering to respond. That old man is always lecturing, he thought, always sticking up for Brun. Why can’t Brun make a decision? I’ve made up my mind. What good is all this talk? Maybe he’s getting old, too old to lead anymore.
Ayla stumbled back after the men. She went straight to the cave to Creb’s hearth and sat on her sleeping fur, staring into space. Iza tried to coax her to eat, but she just shook her head. Uba wasn’t sure what was going on, but something was troubling the tall, wonderful girl, the special friend she loved and idolized. She went to Ayla and crawled into her lap. Ayla held the small girl, silently rocking her. Somehow Uba knew she was a comfort. She didn’t squirm to get down, she just allowed herself to be held and rocked and finally fell asleep. Iza took the child from Ayla’s arms and put her to bed, then retired to her own, but she didn’t sleep. Her heart was too full of grief for the strange girl she called daughter who sat staring at the glowing coals of the cooling fire.
The morning dawned clear and cold. Ice was forming on the edges of the stream, and a thin film of solidified water covered the still, spring-fed pond near the mouth of the cave in the mornings, usually melted by the time the sun was high. Before very much longer, the clan would be confined to the cave for the winter.
Iza didn’t know if Ayla had slept; she was still sitting on her fur when the woman awoke. The girl was silent, lost in a world of her own, hardly conscious of her own thoughts. She just waited. Creb did not return to his hearth for the second night. Iza saw him shuffle into the dark crevice that was the entrance to his inner sanctum. He didn’t come out again until morning. After the men left, Iza brought the girl some tea, but Ayla didn’t respond to the medicine woman’s gentle questions. When she returned, the tea was still beside the girl, cold and untouched. It’s as though she’s already dead, Iza thought. Her breath caught in her throat as the icy claw of sorrow gripped her heart. It was almost more than Iza could bear.
Brun led the men to a place in the lee of a large boulder, sheltered from the brisk wind, and had a fire built before he opened the meeting. The discomfort of sitting in the cold might encourage the men to be hasty, and he wanted to know the full range of their feelings and opinions. When he began, it was in the completely silent symbols used to address spirits, and it told the men this was not a casual gathering, but a formal meeting.
“The girl, Ayla, a member of our clan, used a sling to kill the hyena that attacked Brac. For three years, she has used the weapon. Ayla is female; by Clan tradition, a female who uses a weapon must die. Does anyone have anything they want to say?”
“Droog would speak, Brun.”
“Droog may speak.”
“When the medicine woman found the girl, we were looking for a new cave. The spirits were angry with us and sent an earthquake to destroy our home. Maybe they weren’t so angry, maybe they just wanted a better place, and maybe they wanted us to find the girl. She is strange, unusual, like a sign from a totem. We have been lucky since we found her. I think she brings luck and I think it comes from her totem.
“It’s only part of her strangeness that she was chosen by the Great Cave Lion. We thought she was peculiar because she liked to go into the water of the sea, but if she had not been so peculiar, Ona would be walking the spirit world now. Ona is only a girl, and not even born to my hearth, but I have grown to love her. I would have missed her; I’m grateful she didn’t drown.
“She is strange to us, but we know little of the Others. She is Clan now, but she was not born Clan. I don’t know why she ever wanted to hunt; it’s wrong for Clan women to hunt, but maybe their women do. It doesn’t matter, it was still wrong, but if she hadn’t taught herself to use a sling, Brac would be dead, too. It’s not pleasant to think of the way he would have died. For a hunter to be killed by a meat eater is one thing, but Brac is a baby.
“His death would have been a loss to the whole clan, Brun, not just to Broud and you. If he had died, we wouldn’t be sitting here trying to decide what to do about the girl who saved his life, we’d be grieving for the boy who will one day be leader. I think the girl should be punished, but how can she be condemned to die? I am finished.”
“Zoug would speak, Brun.”
“Zoug may speak.”
“What Droog says is true; how can you condemn the girl when she saved Brac’s life? She is different, she wasn’t born Clan, and maybe she doesn’t think like a woman should, but except for the matter of the sling, she behaves like a good Clan woman. She had been a model woman, obedient, respectful …”
“That’s not true! She is rebellious, insolent,” Broud interrupted.
“I am speaking now, Broud,” Zoug returned angrily. Brun shot him a disapproving glance and Broud curbed his outburst.
“It’s true,” Zoug continued, “when the girl was younger, she was insolent to you, Broud. But you brought it on yourself, you’re the one who let it bother you. If you act like a child, is it so strange that the girl does not treat you like a man? She has never been anything but dutiful and obedient to me. Nor has she ever been insolent to any other man.”
Broud glowered at the old hunter but held himself in check.
“Even if it were not true,” Zoug continued, “I have never seen anyone as good with the sling as she is. She says she learned from me. I never knew it, but I will say openly I wish I had so apt a pupil to teach, and I must admit, I could learn from her now. She wanted to hunt for the clan, and when she couldn’t, she tried to find another way to help the clan. She may have been born to the Others, but in her heart she is Clan. She has always put the interests of the clan before herself. She didn’t think of the danger when she went after Ona. She may be able to move on the water, but I saw how tired she was when she brought Ona back. The sea could have taken her, too. She knew it was wrong for her to hunt, kept her secret hidden for three years, but she didn’t hesitate when Brac’s life was in danger.
“She is skilled with that weapon, more skilled than anyone I’ve ever seen. It would be a shame to let that skill go to waste. I say let her be a benefit to the clan, let her hunt …”
“No! No! No!” Broud jumped up in anger. “She is female. Females cannot be allowed to hunt …”
“Broud,” the proud old hunter said. “I am not through. You may ask to speak when I am done.”
“Let Zoug finish, Broud!” the leader cautioned. “If you do not know how to conduct yourself at a formal meeting, you may leave!” Broud sat down again, struggling to control himself.
“The sling is not an important weapon. I only began to develop my skill after I got too old to hunt with a spear. It’s the other weapons that are the real men’s weapons. I say let her hunt, but only with the sling. Let the sling be the weapon of old men and women, or at least this one. I am finished now.”
“Zoug, you know as well as I that it is more difficult to use a sling than a spear, and many times you have provided meat when the hunt was a failure. Don’t belittle yourself for the girl’s sake. With a spear, you only need a strong arm,” Brun said.
“And strong legs and heart, and good lungs, and a great deal of courage,” Zoug replied.
“I wonder how much courage it took to face another lynx after being attacked by one, alone, with only a sling?” Droog commented. “I wouldn’t object to Zoug’s suggestion, if she hunts only with a sling. The spirits don’t seem to object; she is still bringing us luck. What about our mammoth hunt?”
“I’m not sure that’s a decision we can make,” Brun said. “I don’t see any way we can even allow her to live, much less hunt. You know the traditions, Zoug. It’s never been done before; would the spirits really approve? What made you think of it, anyway? Clan women don’t hunt.”
“Yes, Clan women don’t hunt, but this one has. I probably wouldn’t have thought of it if I didn’t know she could, if I hadn’t already seen her. All I’m saying is let her continue to do what she has already done.”
“What do you say, Mog-ur?” Brun asked.
“What do you expect him to say, she lives at his hearth!” Broud interjected bitterly.
“Broud!” Brun stormed. “Are you accusing Mog-ur of putting his own feelings, his own interests, before those of the clan? Is he not Mog-ur? The Mog-ur? You think he will not say what is right, what is true?”
“No, Brun. Broud has made a good point. My feelings for Ayla are well known; it’s not easy to forget I love her. I think you should all remember that, even though I’ve tried to put emotions aside. I can’t be sure that I have. I have been fasting and meditating since you returned, Brun. Last night I found my way to memories I never knew, perhaps because I never looked.
“Long ago, long before we were Clan, women helped men to hunt.” There was a gasp of disbelief. “It’s true. We will have a ceremony, and I will take you there. When we were first learning to make tools and weapons, and we were born with a knowing that was like memories, but different, women and men both killed animals for food. Men did not always provide for women then. Like a mother bear, a woman hunted for herself and her children.
“It was later that men began to hunt for a woman and her young, and even later before women with children stayed behind. When men began to care about the young, when they began to provide, it was the beginnings of the Clan and helped it to grow. If a mother of a young child died while she was trying to get food, the baby died, too. But it wasn’t until people stopped fighting each other and learned to cooperate, to hunt together, that the Clan really began. Even then, some women hunted, when they were the ones who talked to the spirits.
“Brun, you said it’s never been done before. You are wrong; Clan women have hunted before. The spirits approved then, but they were different spirits, ancient spirits, not the spirits of totems. They were powerful spirits, but they have long since gone to rest. I’m not sure if they can rightfully be called Clan spirits. It wasn’t that they were honored or venerated, more that they were feared; but they weren’t evil, just powerful.”
The men were stunned. He spoke of times so ancient and so little recalled, they were almost forgotten, almost new. Yet just his mentioning of them evoked a recollection of the fear, and more than one man shuddered.
“I doubt that women born to the Clan now would ever want to hunt,” Mog-ur continued. “I’m not sure they could. It’s been too long, women have changed since then, so have men. But Ayla is different, the Others are different, more different than we think. I don’t think letting her hunt would make any difference as far as the other women are concerned. Her hunting, her wanting to hunt, surprises them as much as us. I have nothing more to say.”
“Does anyone have anything more to say?” Brun asked. He wasn’t sure, though, that he was ready for more. Too many new ideas had already been proposed for comfort.
“Goov would speak, Brun.”
“Goov may speak.”
“I am only an acolyte, I don’t know as much as Mog-ur, but I think he overlooked something. Maybe it’s because he has tried so hard to put aside his feeling for Ayla. He has concentrated on remembering, not on the girl herself, perhaps out of fear it would be his love speaking and not his mind. He hasn’t thought about her totem.
“Has anyone considered why a powerful male totem would choose a girl?” He answered his own rhetorical question. “Except for Ursus, the Cave Lion is the most powerful totem. The cave lion is more powerful than the mammoth; he hunts mammoth, only the young and old, but he does hunt mammoth sometimes. The cave lion does not hunt mammoth.”
“You’re not making sense, Goov. You say the cave lion hunts mammoth, then you say he doesn’t,” Brun gestured.
“He doesn’t, she does. We overlook that when we speak of protective totems; even the male cave lion is the protector. But who is the hunter? The largest meat eater of all, the strongest hunter is the lioness! The female! Is it not true she brings her kill to her mate? He can kill, but his job is to protect while she hunts.
“It’s curious that a Cave Lion would choose a girl, isn’t it? Has anyone ever thought that perhaps her totem is not the Cave Lion, but the Cave Lioness? The female? The hunter? Couldn’t that explain why the girl wanted to hunt? Why she was given a sign? Maybe it was the Lioness who gave her the sign, maybe that’s why she was marked on her left leg. Is it really more exceptional for her to hunt than it is for her to have such a totem? I don’t know if it’s true, but you must admit it’s reasonable. Whether her totem is Cave Lion or Cave Lioness, if she was meant to hunt, can we deny it? Can we deny her powerful totem? And do we dare condemn her for doing what her totem wishes?” Goov concluded. “I am finished.”
Brun’s head was whirling. Ideas were coming at him too fast. He needed time to think, to work it out. Of course it’s the lioness who hunts, but who ever heard of a female totem? The spirits, the essences of protective spirits are all male, aren’t they? Only someone who spends long days dwelling on the ways of the spirits would come to the conclusion that the totem of the girl who had been hunting was the hunter of the species that embodied her totem. But Brun wished Goov hadn’t brought up the idea of denying the wishes of so powerful a totem.
The whole concept of a woman hunting was so unique, so thought-provoking, that several of the men had been jarred into making the small incremental step that pushed the frontiers of their comfortable, secure, well-defined world. Each man spoke from his own viewpoint, from his own area of concern or interest, and each had pushed forward the frontier only in that one small area; but Brun had to embrace them all, and it was almost too much. He felt duty-bound to consider every aspect before he made a judgment, and he wished he had time to mull them over carefully. But a decision could not be held off much longer.
“Does anyone else have any more opinions?”
“Broud would speak, Brun.”
“Broud may speak.”
“All these ideas are interesting, and may give us something to think about on cold winter days, but the traditions of the Clan are clear. Born to the Others or not, the girl is Clan. Clan females may not hunt. They may not even touch a weapon, or any tool that is used to make a weapon. We all know the punishment. She must die. It makes no difference if long ago women once hunted. Because a she-bear hunts, or a lioness, doesn’t mean a woman may. We are neither bears nor lions. It makes no difference if she has a powerful totem or if she brings luck to the clan. It makes no difference if she is good with a sling or even that she saved the life of the son of my mate. I am grateful for that, of course—everyone has noticed I said so many times on the way back, I’m sure—but it makes no difference. The traditions of the Clan make no allowances. A woman who uses a weapon must die. We cannot change that. It is the way of the Clan.
“This whole meeting is a waste of time. There is no other decision you can make, Brun. I am finished.”
“Broud is right,” Dorv said. “It is not our place to change the traditions of the Clan. One exception leads to another. Soon there would be nothing we can count on. The punishment is death; the girl must die.”
There were a couple of nods of agreement. Brun did not respond immediately. Broud is right, he thought. What other decision can I make? She saved Brac’s life, but she used a weapon to do it. Brun wasn’t any closer to a resolution than he was the day Ayla pulled out her sling and killed the hyena.
“I will take all your thoughts into consideration before I make my decision. But now I want to ask each of you to give me a definite answer,” the leader finally said. The men were sitting in a circle around the fire. They each clenched a fist and held it in front of their chests. A movement up and down would mean an affirmative answer, a lateral movement of the fist, no.
“Grod,” Brun began with his second-in-command, “do you think the girl Ayla should die?”
Grod hesitated. He sympathized with the leader’s dilemma. He had been Brun’s second for many years, he could almost read the leader’s thoughts, and his respect for him had grown with time. But he could see no alternative; he moved his fist up, then down.
“What other choice is there, Brun?” he added.
“Grod says yes. Droog?” Brun asked, turning to the toolmaker.
Droog did not hesitate. He moved his fist across his chest.
“Droog says no. Crug, how about you?”
Crug looked at Brun, then Mog-ur, and finally Broud. He moved his fist up.
“Crug says yes, the girl should die,” Brun confirmed. “Goov?”
The young acolyte responded immediately by drawing his fist across his chest.
“Goov’s opinion is no. Broud?”
Broud moved his fist up before Brun could say his name, and Brun moved on just as quickly. He knew Broud’s answer.
“Yes. Zoug?”
The old sling-master sat up proudly and moved his fist back and forth across his chest with an emphasis that left no doubt.
“Zoug thinks the girl should not die, what do you think, Dorv?”
The hand of the other old man went up, and before he could bring it down, all eyes turned toward Mog-ur.
“Dorv says yes. Mog-ur, what is your opinion?” Brun asked. He had guessed what the others would say, but the leader wasn’t sure about the old magician.
Creb agonized. He knew the Clan traditions. He blamed himself for Ayla’s crime, for giving her too much freedom. He felt guilty about his love for her, afraid it would usurp his reason, afraid he would think of himself before his duty to his clan, and began to move his fist up. Logically he decided she must die. But before he could start the movement, his fist jerked to the side, as though someone had grabbed it and moved it for him. He could not bring himself to condemn her, though he would do what he must, once the decision was made. He had no choice. The choice was Brun’s and only Brun’s.
“The opinions are evenly divided,” the leader announced. “The decision was never anything but mine anyway, I only wanted to know how you felt. I will need some time to think about what was said today. Mog-ur says we will have a ceremony tonight. That’s good. I will need the help of the spirits, and we all may need their protection. You will know my decision in the morning. She will know then, too. Go now and prepare for the ceremony.”
Brun remained by the fire alone after the men left. Clouds scudded across the sky, driven by brisk winds, and dropped intermittent icy showers as they passed, but Brun was as oblivious to the rain as he was to the last dying embers sputtering in the fireplace. It was nearing dark when he finally hauled himself up and plodded slowly back to the cave. He saw Ayla still sitting where he had seen her when they left in the morning. She expects the worst, he said to himself. What else can she expect?