Mammoth Hunters (72 page)

Fralie looked at Ayla, and smiled gently. “Can you imagine what it was like being joined with someone who didn’t want
you, and never did care about you from the beginning? Then finding a man who wanted you so much he was willing to give everything he had, and promise everything he would ever get? That first night, after we went away together, he treated me like … a special treasure. He couldn’t believe he had the right to touch me. He made me feel … I can’t explain it … wanted. He’s still like that when we’re alone, but he and Mother started fighting right away. When it became a matter of pride between them over whether I would see you, I couldn’t take away his self-respect, Ayla.”

“I think I understand, Fralie.”

“I kept trying to tell myself that things weren’t so bad, and your medicine did help me. I always believed he would change his mind when the time came, but I wanted it to be his idea, not something I forced him to do.”

“I’m glad he did.”

“But I don’t know what I would have done if my baby had …”

“We can’t be sure yet, but I think you are right. She does seem stronger,” Ayla said.

Fralie smiled. “I’ve decided on a name for her, I hope it makes Frebec happy. I’ve decided to call her Bectie.”

Ayla was standing by an empty storage platform sorting through a variety of dried vegetation. There were small piles of barks, roots, and seeds, little stacks of stems, bowls of dried leaves, flowers, fruits, and some whole plants. Ranec approached her, trying to be inconspicuous about hiding something behind his back. “Ayla, are you busy?” he said.

“No, not really, Ranec. I’ve been going through my medicines, to see what I will be needing. I was out today with the horses. Spring is really coming—it’s my favorite season. Green buds are starting, and pussy willows—I’ve always loved those fuzzy little flowers. Soon everything will be greening.”

Ranec smiled at her enthusiasm. “Everyone is looking forward to the Spring Festival. That’s when we celebrate new life, new beginnings, and with Fralie’s new baby and Latie’s new womanhood, we have much to celebrate.”

Ayla frowned slightly. She wasn’t sure if she was looking forward to her part in the Spring Festival. Mamut had been training her, and some very interesting things had been happening, but it was a little frightening. Not as much as she
thought it would be, though. Everything would be fine. She smiled again.

Ranec had been watching her, wondering what was going through her mind, and trying to think of a way to approach the subject he had come for. “The ceremony could be especially exciting this year …” He paused, searching for the right words.

“I suppose you’re right,” Ayla said, still thinking about her part in the festival.

“You don’t sound very excited,” Ranec said, smiling.

“Don’t I? I really am looking forward to Fralie naming the baby, and I’m so pleased for Latie. I remember how happy I was when I finally became a woman, and how relieved Iza was. It’s just that Mamut is planning something and I’m not sure about it.”

“I keep forgetting that you haven’t been Mamutoi very long. You don’t know what a Spring Festival is all about. No wonder you’re not anticipating it like everyone else.” He shifted his feet nervously and looked down, then back at her. “Ayla, you might anticipate it more, I would, too, if …” Ranec stopped, decided to change his approach, and held out the object he’d been hiding. “I made this for you.”

Ayla saw what he held. She looked up at Ranec, her eyes wide with surprise and delight when she saw it. “You made this for me? But why?”

“Because I wanted to. It’s for you, that’s all. Think of it as a spring gift,” he said, urging her to take it.

She took the ivory carving, holding it carefully, and examined it. “This is one of your bird-woman figures,” Ayla said with awe and pleasure, “like the one you showed me before, but it’s not the same one.”

His eyes lit up. “I made it especially for you, but I should warn you,” he said with mock seriousness, “I put magic in it, so you will … like it, and the one who made it.”

“You didn’t have to put magic in it for that, Ranec.”

“You like it, then? Tell me, what do you think of it?” Ranec asked, though he usually didn’t ask people what they thought of his work; it didn’t matter to him what they thought. He worked for himself, and to please the Mother, but this time he wanted, more than anything, to please Ayla. He had put his heart, his yearning, and his dreams into every notch he cut, every line he etched, hoping this carving of the Mother would work magic on the woman he loved.

She looked closely at the figure and noticed the downward
pointing triangle. It was the symbol of woman she had learned, and one reason three was the number of generative power and sacred to Mut. The angle was repeated as chevrons, on what would be the front of the carving, if it were a woman, or the back, if it were a bird. The whole object was decorated with rows of chevrons and parallel lines in a fascinating geometric design, which was pleasing to look at by itself, but suggested more.

“It’s beautifully made, Ranec. I especially like the way you did these lines. The pattern reminds me of feathers, in a way, but it also makes me think of water, like on the maps,” Ayla said.

Ranec’s smile turned into a delighted grin. “I knew it! I knew you would see it! The feathers of Her spirit when She becomes a bird and flies back in spring, and the birth waters of the Mother that filled the seas.”

“It’s wonderful, Ranec, but I can’t keep it,” she said, trying to give it back.

“Why not? I made it for you,” he said, refusing to take it.

“But what can I give you back? I have nothing to equal the value of this.”

“If that is what’s worrying you, I have a suggestion. You have something I want that is worth much more than this chunk of ivory,” Ranec said, smiling, his eyes flashing with humor … and love. He became more serious. “Join with me, Ayla. Be my woman. I want to share a hearth with you, I want your children to be the children of my hearth.”

Ayla was reluctant to answer. Ranec could see her hesitation, and kept on talking, trying to persuade her. “Think how much we have in common. You’re a Mamutoi woman, I’m a Mamutoi man, but both of us were adopted. And if we join, neither of us would have to move to another Camp. We could both stay in Lion Camp, and you could still take care of Mamut, and Rydag, and that would make Nezzie happy. But most important, I love you, Ayla, I want to share my life with you.”

“I … don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes, Ayla. Let’s announce it, include a Promise Ceremony in the Spring Festival. Then we can formalize the union at the Matrimonial this summer, when Deegie does.”

“I’m not sure … I don’t think …”

“You don’t have to answer yet.” He had hoped she was ready to agree immediately. Now he realized it might take more time, but he didn’t want her to say no. “Just tell me you’ll give me the chance to show you how much I love you, how much I want you, how happy we can be together.”

Ayla remembered what Fralie had said. It did make her feel special to know a man wanted her, that there was a man who cared about her and didn’t keep avoiding her all the time. And she liked the thought of staying here where people loved her, people she loved. The Lion Camp were like her family, now. Jondalar would never stay. She had known that for a long time. He wanted to go back to his own home, and he had wanted to take her with him, once. Now he didn’t seem to want her at all.

Ranec was nice, she did like him, and joining with him would mean staying here. And if she was going to have another baby, she should have it soon. She wasn’t getting any younger. In spite of what Mamut had said, eighteen years seemed old to her. It would be so wonderful to have another baby, she thought. Like Fralie’s baby. Only stronger. She could have a baby with Ranec. Would it have Ranec’s features, his deep black eyes, his soft lips, his short wide nose, so different from the large, sharp, beaky noses of the men of the Clan? Jondalar’s nose was between them in size and shape … why was she thinking about Jondalar?

Then an idea occurred to her that made her heart race with excitement. If I stay here and join with Ranec, she thought, I could go and get Durc! Next summer, perhaps. There won’t be a Clan Gathering then. What about Ura? Why not get her, too? If I go away with Jondalar, I know I’ll never see Durc again. The Zelandonii live too far away, and Jondalar won’t want to go back for Durc and take him with us. If only Jondalar would stay, and become Mamutoi … but he won’t. She looked at the dark man, and saw the love in Ranec’s eyes. Maybe I should think about joining with him.

“I said I would think about it, Ranec,” she said.

“I know you did, but if you need more time to think about making a Promise, at least come to my bed, Ayla. Give me a chance to show you how much I care for you. Tell me you’ll do that much. Come to my bed, Ayla”—taking her hand.

She looked down, trying to sort out her feelings. She felt a strong, though subtle, compulsion to obey him. Although she recognized it for what it was, it was difficult to overcome a feeling that she should go to his bed. But more than that, she wondered if she should give him a chance, perhaps have a trial with him, like Fralie did with Frebec.

Ayla nodded, still looking down. “I’ll come to your bed.”

“Tonight?” he said, shaking with joy and feeling like shouting.

“Yes, Ranec. If you want. I’ll come to your bed, tonight.”

Jondalar positioned himself so that he could see most of the Mammoth Hearth by looking down the passageway and through the open areas of the hearths that separated them. He had made such a habit of watching Ayla he hardly thought about it any more. It didn’t even embarrass him; it was a part of his existence. No matter what he was doing, she was always on his mind, often just at the edge of awareness. He knew when she slept and when she was awake, when she ate and when she worked on some project. He knew when she went out and knew who came to see her, and how long they stayed. He even had some idea what they talked about.

He knew Ranec had been spending most of his time there. Though he didn’t like seeing them together, he also knew that Ayla had not been intimate with him, and seemed to avoid any close contact. Her actions had lulled him into a certain acceptance of the situation, and eased his anxieties, so he was unprepared for the sight of her walking with Ranec to the Fox Hearth as everyone was getting ready for bed. He couldn’t believe it at first. He assumed she was just going to get something and would return to her own bed. The realization that she was planning to spend the night with the carver did not come to him until he saw her command Wolf to go to the Mammoth Hearth.

But when it did, it was like a fire exploding in his head, that spread its burning pain and rage through his body. He was devastated. His first impulse was to rush to the Fox Hearth and tear her away. He had visions of Ranec mocking him, and he wanted to smash that dark smiling face, demolish that scornful, derisive smile. He fought to control himself, and finally grabbed his parka and rushed outside.

Jondalar breathed in huge gulps of cold air, trying to cool his flaming jealousy, and almost seared his lungs with the
cold. An early spring cold snap that dipped below freezing had hardened slush, turned rivulets into treacherous slides, and trampled mud into uneven bumps and dips, making it difficult to walk. He lost his footing in the dark and scrambled to keep his balance. When he reached the horse annex, he went back in.

Whinney blew a greeting and Racer snorted and nudged him in the dark, looking for affection. He had spent a lot of time with the horses over the difficult winter, and even more during the uncertain spring. They welcomed his company and he relaxed in their warm, unquestioning presence. A movement of the inner drape caught his eye. Then he felt paws on his leg, and heard a pleading whine. He reached down and picked up the wolf pup.

“Wolf!” he said, smiling, but pulling back as the eager animal licked his face. “What are you doing here?” Then he lost his smile. “She made you leave, didn’t she? You’re used to her being there near you, and you miss her. I know how you feel. It’s hard getting used to sleeping alone after she has slept beside you.”

As he petted and stroked the little wolf, Jondalar felt an easing of tension, and he was reluctant to put him down. “What should I do with you, Wolf? I hate to make you go back. I suppose I could let you sleep with me.”

Then he frowned, realizing he was faced with a dilemma. How was he going to get back to his bed with the pup? It was cold out, and he wasn’t sure if the little animal would want to go outside with him, but if he went in through the Mammoth Hearth opening, he would have to walk through the Fox Hearth to reach his bed. Nothing in the world could have induced him to walk through the Fox Hearth at that moment. Jondalar wished he had his sleeping furs with him. With no fire it was cool in the annex, but sleeping in furs between the horses would have been warm enough. He had no choice. He would have to take the puppy out with him and back in through the front entrance.

He patted the horses, then, cuddling the puppy close to his chest, pushed back the drape and stepped out into the cold night. The wind, more noticeable this time, stung his face with an icy slap, and parted the fur of his parka. Wolf tried to squirm closer and whimpered, but made no move to get away. Jondalar moved carefully over the rough frozen ground and was relieved to reach the front arch.

The lodge was quiet when he stepped into the cooking hearth. He walked to his sleeping furs, and put Wolf down, glad that he seemed content to stay. Quickly, he pulled off his parka and footwear, then crawled into the furs taking the small wolf with him. He had found it was not as warm on the floor in the open area of the hearth as it was on the enclosed sleeping platforms, and he slept in his indoor clothes, which left them rumpled. It took a few moments to find a comfortable position and settle down, but before long the warm bundle of fur curled up next to him was asleep.

Jondalar was not so fortunate. As soon as he closed his eyes, he heard the night sounds and stiffened in resistance. Normally the breathing, shuffling, coughing, whispering sounds of the Camp at night were background noise, easily ignored, but Jondalar’s ears heard what he did not want to hear.