Mammoth Hunters (57 page)

“I would like to go over the songs and chants we have been practicing, and I want to begin showing you something special. Symbols. I think you will find them interesting. Some are about medicine.”

“Medicine symbols?” Ayla asked. Of course she was interested. They walked into the Mammoth Hearth together.

“Are you going to do anything with the white leather?” Mamut asked, putting mats by the fire near his bed. “Or are you going to save it, like the red?”

“I don’t know about the red yet, but I want to make a special tunic with the white. I am learning to sew, but I feel very clumsy. It turned out so perfect, I don’t want to spoil the white until I get better. Deegie is showing me, and Fralie, sometimes, when Frebec doesn’t make it difficult for her.”

Ayla slivered some bone and added it to the flames while Mamut brought out a rather thin oval section of ivory with a large curved surface. The oval outline had been etched into a mammoth tusk with a stone chisel, then repeated until it was a deep groove. A sharp blow accurately placed at one end detached the flake of ivory. Mamut picked out a piece of bone charcoal from the fire as Ayla got a mammoth skull and
a hammer-shaped drumstick made of antler and sat down beside him.

“Before we practice with the drum, I want to show you certain symbols that we use to help us memorize things, like songs, stories, proverbs, places, times, names, anything that someone wants to remember,” Mamut began. “You have been teaching us hand signals and signs, and I know you’ve noticed that we use certain gestures, too, though not as many as the Clan. We wave goodbye and beckon to someone if we want him to come, and it is understood. We use other hand symbols, particularly when we are describing something, or telling a story, or when One Who Serves is conducting a ceremony. Here is one that will be easy. It is similar to a Clan symbol.”

Mamut made a circular motion with his hand, palm facing outward. “That means ‘all,’ everyone, everything,” he explained, then picked up the charcoal. “Now, I can make the same motion with this piece of charcoal on the ivory, see?” he said, drawing a circle. “Now that symbol means ‘all’ and any time you see it, even if it is drawn by another Mamut, you will know it means ‘all.’ ”

The old shaman enjoyed teaching Ayla. She was bright and quick to learn, but even more, her pleasure at learning was so transparent. Her face showed her feelings as he explained, her curiosity and interest, and her sheer wonder when she comprehended.

“I never would have thought of that! Can anyone learn this knowledge?” she asked.

“Some knowledge is sacred, and only those pledged to the Mammoth Hearth may be told, but most things can be learned by anyone who shows an interest. It often turns out that those who show great interest eventually dedicate themselves to the Mammoth Hearth. The sacred knowledge is often hidden behind a second meaning, or even a third meaning. Most people know this”—he drew another circle on the ivory—“means ‘all,’ but it has another meaning. There are many symbols for the Great Mother, this is one of them. It means Mut, the Creator of All Life. Many other lines and shapes have meaning,” he continued. “This means ‘water,’ ” he said, drawing a zigzag line.

“That was on the map, when we hunted the bison,” she said. “I think it meant river.”

“Yes, it can mean river. How it is drawn, or where it is
drawn, or what it is drawn with can change the meaning. If it is like this,” he said, making another zigzag with some additional lines, “it means the water is not drinkable. And like the circle, it has a second meaning. It is the symbol for feelings, passions, for love, and sometimes for hate. It can also be a reminder for a saying we have: the river runs silent when the water is deep.”

Ayla frowned, sensing some meaning for her in the saying.

“Most Healers give the symbols meanings to help them remember, like reminders for sayings, except the sayings are about medicine or healing, and are not usually understood by anyone else,” Mamut said. “I don’t know many of them, but when we go to the Summer Meeting, you will meet other Healers. They can tell you more.”

Ayla was interested. She remembered meeting other medicine women at the Clan Gathering, and how much she had learned from them. They had shared their treatments and remedies, even taught her new rhythms, but best of all was having other people to share experiences with. “I would like to learn more,” she said. “I know only Clan medicine.”

“I think you have more knowledge than you know, Ayla, certainly more than many of the Healers there will believe, at first. Some could learn from you, but I hope you understand that it may take some time before you are completely accepted.” The old man watched her frown again, and wished there was some way he could ease her initial introduction. He could think of several reasons why it would not be easy for her to meet other Mamutoi, especially in large numbers. But no need to worry about that yet, he thought, and shifted the subject. “There is something about Clan medicine I’d like to ask you. Is it all just the ‘memories’? Or do you have ways to help you remember?”

“How plants look, in seed, and shoot, and ripe; where they grow; what they are good for; how to mix, prepare and use them; that is from memory. Other kinds of treatments are remembered, too. I think about a new way to use something, but that is because I know how to use it,” she said.

“Don’t you use any symbols or reminders?”

Ayla thought for a moment, then smiling, got up and brought back her medicine bag. She dumped out the contents in front of her, an assortment of small pouches and packets carefully tied with cords and small thongs. She picked up two of them.

“This one has mint, she said, showing Mamut one, “and this one has rose hips.”

“How do you know? You haven’t opened them, or smelled them.”

“I know because mint has a cord made from the stringy bark of a certain bush, and there are two knots on one end of the cord. The cord on the packet of rose hips is from the long hair of a horse tail, and it has three knots in a row, close together,” Ayla said. “I can smell difference, too—if I don’t have a cold, but some very strong medicine has little smell. It is mixed with strong-smelling leaves of plant with little medicine, so wrong medicine will not be used. Different cord, different knots, different smell, sometimes different packet. They are reminders, right?”

“Clever … very clever,” Mamut said. “Yes, they are reminders. But you have to remember the cords and the knots for each one, don’t you? Still, it’s a good way to make sure you are using the proper medicine.”

Ayla’s eyes were open, but she lay still and didn’t move. It was dark except for the dim nightlight of banked fires. Jondalar was just climbing into bed, trying to make as little disturbance as possible as he moved around her. She had thought of moving to the inside once, but decided against it. She didn’t want to make it easy for him to slip quietly in and out of bed. He rolled up in his separate furs and lay on his side, facing the wall, unmoving. She knew he did not go to sleep quickly, and she ached to reach over and touch him, but she’d been rebuffed before and didn’t want to chance it again. It had hurt when he said he was tired or pretended to be asleep, or did not respond to her.

Jondalar waited until the sound of her breathing indicated that she had finally fallen off to sleep. Then he quietly rolled over, got up on an elbow and filled his eyes with the sight of her. Her tousled hair was strewn across the furs, and one arm was flung outside the covers, baring a breast. A warmth emanated from her and a faint woman-scent. He could feel himself shaking with wanting to touch her, but he felt certain she wouldn’t want him bothering her when she was sleeping. After his confused and angry reaction to her night with Ranec, he feared she didn’t want him any more. Lately, every time they accidentally brushed together, she flinched back. Several times he’d considered moving to a different bed, even a
different hearth, but as difficult as it was to sleep beside her, it would be far worse to sleep away from her.

A wispy tendril of hair lay across her face and moved with each breath she took. He reached over and gently moved it aside, then carefully lowered himself back down to the bed, and allowed himself to relax. He closed his eyes and fell asleep to the sound of her breathing.

Ayla awoke with the feeling that someone was looking at her. The fires were built up and daylight was coming in through the partially uncovered fireplace hole. She turned her head to see Ranec’s dark intense eyes quietly watching her from the Fox Hearth. She smiled sleepily at him, and was rewarded with a big, delighted smile. She was sure the place beside her would be empty, but she reached across the piled-up furs just to make sure. Then she pushed back her covers and sat up. She knew Ranec would wait until she was up and dressed before coming into the Mammoth Hearth to visit.

It had made her uncomfortable when she first became aware that he watched her all the time. In a way, it was flattering and she knew there was no malice in his attention, but within the Clan, it was considered discourteous to stare across the boundary stones into another family’s living area. There had been no more real privacy in the cave of the clan than there was in the earthlodge of the Mamutoi, but Ranec’s attention felt like a mild intrusion upon her privacy—such as it was—and accentuated an undercurrent of tension she felt. Someone was always around. It had been no different when she lived with the clan, but these were people whose ways she had not grown up with. The differences were often subtle, but in the close proximity of the earthlodge, they were heightened, or she was more sensitive to them. Occasionally, she wished she could get away. After three years of loneliness in the valley, she never imagined the time would come when she would wish to be alone, but there were times when she longed for the solitude, and the freedom, of loneliness.

Ayla hurried through her usual morning routine, eating only a few bites from the food left over from the night before. The open smoke holes usually meant it was clear outside, and she decided to go out with the horses. When she pushed aside the drape that led to the annex, she saw Jondalar and Danug with the horses, and paused to reconsider.

Tending to the needs of the horses, either inside the annex, or when the weather allowed, outside, gave her some respite from people when she wanted a moment to herself, but Jondalar also seemed to like to spend time with them. When she saw him with them, she often stayed away because he left them to her whenever she joined them, with mumbled comments about not wanting to interfere in her time with her horses. She wanted to allow him time with the animals. Not only did they provide a connection between her and Jondalar, their mutual care of the horses required communication, however reserved. His desire to be with them and sensitivity toward them made her think that he might need their companionship even more than she did.

Ayla went on into the horse hearth. Perhaps with Danug there, Jondalar wouldn’t be so quick to leave. As she approached them, he was already backing away, but she rushed to say something that would keep him engaged in conversation.

“Have you thought, yet, about how you are going to teach Racer, Jondalar?” Ayla asked. She smiled a greeting at Danug.

“Teach him what?” Jondalar asked, a little disconcerted by her question.

“Teach him to let you ride him.”

He had been thinking about it. In fact, he had just been making a comment to Danug, in what he hoped was a casual way. He didn’t want to betray his increasingly strong desire
to
ride the animal. Particularly when he felt thwarted by his inability to deal with Ayla’s apparent attraction to Ranec, he imagined himself galloping across the steppes on the back of the brown stallion, as free as the wind, but he wasn’t sure if he still should be. Perhaps she would want Ranec to ride Whinney’s colt, now.

“I have thought about it, but I didn’t know if … how to begin, ‘ Jondalar said.

“I think you should keep doing what we started in the valley. Get him used to things on his back. Get him used to carrying loads. I’m not sure how to teach him to go where you want him to go. He will follow on a rope, but I don’t know how he can follow a rope when you are on his back,” Ayla said, talking fast, making suggestions on the spur of the moment, trying to keep him involved.

Danug watched her, then Jondalar, wishing he could say or do something that would suddenly make everything right, not only between them, but for everyone. An awkward moment
of silence settled uneasily around them when Ayla stopped speaking. Danug rushed to fill the gap.

“Maybe he could hold the rope from behind, while he’s sitting on the horse’s back, instead of holding Racer’s mane,” the young man said.

Suddenly, as though someone had struck a piece of flint with iron pyrite in the dark lodge, Jondalar could visualize exactly what Danug had said. Instead of backing away, looking as though he was ready to sprint off at the first opportunity, Jondalar closed his eyes and wrinkled his forehead in concentration. “You know, that might work, Danug!” he said. Caught up in his excitement about an idea that might be a solution to a problem he had been worrying about, he forgot for a moment his uncertainty about his future. “Perhaps I could fasten something to his halter and hold it from behind. A strong cord … or a thin leather strap … two of them, maybe.”

“I have some narrow thongs,” Ayla said, noticing that he seemed less strained. She was pleased about his continuing interest in training the young stallion, and curious how it might work. “I will get them for you. They are inside.”

Jondalar followed her through the inner arch into the Mammoth Hearth. Then stopped suddenly as she went to the storage platform to get the thong. Ranec was talking to Deegie and Tronie, and turned to flash his winning smile at Ayla. Jondalar felt his stomach churn, closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He started edging back toward the opening. Ayla turned to give him a narrow roll of flexible leather.

“This is lashing, it is strong,” she said, giving it to him. “I made it last winter.” She looked up into the troubled blue eyes that revealed the pain, the confusion, and the indecision that tormented him. “Before you came to my valley, Jondalar. Before the Spirit of the Great Cave Lion chose you, and led you there.”