“It is not necessary to …” Nezzie began.
Talut threw back his head and roared with laughter. “It takes more than that, young man. When you can match me in the furs, you’ll be as good a man as I am.”
Nezzie gave up trying to scold her dignity back, and just looked at her great bear of a man, shaking her head with exasperated fondness. “What is it about Summer Meeting that makes old men want to prove they are young again?” she
said. “Well, at least it gives me a rest.” She caught Ayla’s interested look.
“I wouldn’t put a wager on that!” Talut said. “I’m not so old that I can’t still clear the way to the lioness of my hearth just because I’m shoveling other drifts.”
“Hmmmf,” Nezzie shrugged, turning away, disdaining to reply.
Ayla was standing near both horses, and keeping the wolf close by so he wouldn’t growl and frighten people, but she had been watching the entire scene with intense interest, including the reactions of the people around. Danug and Druwez looked slightly embarrassed. Though they’d had no experience, yet, they did know what subject was being discussed, and it had been very much on their minds. Tarneg and Barzec were grinning from ear to ear. Latie was blushing and trying to hide behind Tulie, who looked on as though all this foolishness was beneath her. Most people were smiling benignly, even Jondalar, Ayla noticed, which surprised her. She had wondered if the reasons for his actions toward her had something to do with customs that were very different. Perhaps, unlike the Mamutoi, the Zelandonii did not believe people had the right to choose their own partners, but he did not seem disapproving.
As Nezzie passed her on the way into the tent, Ayla noticed a knowing little smile playing across her mouth, too. “Happens every year,” she said in a half-whisper. “He’s got to make a big scene, tell everyone what a man he is, and the first few days, even find another ‘drift’ or two—although she always looks like me, blond and plump. Then, when he thinks no one is noticing any more, he’s happy enough to spend most of his nights at Cattail Camp—and not so happy if I’m not there.”
“Where do you go?”
“Who can tell? With a Meeting this size, even though you know everyone, or at least every Camp, you don’t know everyone well. Each year there is someone to get to know better. Though I admit, often enough it’s another woman with growing children and a new way to season mammoth. Sometimes a man catches my eye, or I catch his, but I don’t need to make a big scene about it. It’s all right for Talut to brag, but if the truth were known, I don’t think he would like it if I bragged.”
“So you don’t,” Ayla said.
“It’s a small enough thing to do to preserve harmony and good will at the hearth … and, well, to please him.”
“You really love him, don’t you?”
“That old bear!” Nezzie started to object, then smiled and the softness crept into her eyes. “We had our times, in the beginning—you know how loud he can be—but I never did let him get the best of me, or shout me down. I think that’s what he likes about me. Talut could break a man in half, if he wanted to, but that’s not his way. He can get angry sometimes, but there is no cruelty in him. He would never hurt someone weaker than he is—and that’s almost everyone! Yes, I love him, and when you love a man, you want to do things to please him.”
“Would you … not go with another man who caught your eye, even if you wanted to, if it would please him?”
“At my age, that wouldn’t be hard, Ayla. In fact, if the truth were known, I don’t have a lot to brag about. When I was younger, I still looked forward to Summer Meeting for some new faces and some playful games, and even a turn in the furs once in a while, but I think Talut is right about one thing. There aren’t many men who can match him. Not because of all the drifts’ he can shovel, but because he cares how he does it.”
Ayla nodded with understanding. Then she frowned, thinking. What do you do if there are two men, and each of them cares?
“Jondalar!”
Ayla looked up when she heard the strange voice call his name. She saw him smile and stride toward a woman and greet her warmly.
“So you are still with the Mamutoi! Where’s your brother?” the woman said. She was a powerful-looking woman, not tall, but muscular.
Jondalar’s forehead knotted in pain. Ayla could see from the woman’s expression that she knew.
“How did it happen?”
“A lioness stole his kill, and he chased her back to her den. Her mate got him, wounded me, too,” Jondalar said in as few words as possible.
The woman nodded sympathetically. “You say you were wounded? How did you get away?”
Jondalar looked toward Ayla, and saw that she had been watching them. He led the woman toward her. “Ayla this is
Brecie of the Mamutoi, headwoman of Willow Camp … or rather Elk Camp. Talut said that’s the name of your winter Camp. This is Ayla of the Mamutoi, daughter of the Mammoth Hearth of Lion Camp.”
Brecie was taken aback. Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth! Where did she come from? She wasn’t with Lion Camp last year. Ayla was not even a Mamutoi name.
“Brecie,” Ayla said. “Jondalar told me about you. You are the one who saved him and his brother from the sinking sands of Great Mother River, and you are Tulie’s friend. I am pleased to meet you.”
That is certainly not a Mamutoi accent, and it’s not Sungaea, Brecie thought. It’s not Jondalar’s accent, either. I’m not sure it’s an accent at all. She really speaks Mamutoi very well, but she has a peculiar way of swallowing some words. “I am pleased to meet you … Ayla, did you say?” Brecie asked.
“Yes, Ayla.”
“That’s an unusual name.” When no explanation was forthcoming, Brecie continued, “You seem to be the one who is uh … watching these … animals.” It occurred to her that she had never been quite so close to a living animal, at least one who was standing still and not trying to run away.
“That’s because they answer to her,” Jondalar volunteered with a smile.
“But didn’t I see you with one of them? I will admit, you caught me by surprise, Jondalar. In those clothes, for a moment, I thought you were Darnev, and when you were leading a horse, I thought either I was imagining things, or that Darnev had returned from the spirit world.”
“I am learning about these animals from Ayla,” Jondalar said. “She’s the one who saved me from the cave lion, too. Believe me, she has a way with animals.”
“That seems obvious,” Brecie said, this time looking down at Wolf, who was not as nervous, though his alert attention seemed more menacing. “Is that why she was adopted by the Mammoth Hearth?”
“That’s one reason,” Jondalar said.
It had been, a stab in the dark on Brecie’s part, the guess that Ayla had recently been adopted by the Mamut of the Lion Camp. Jondalar’s answer confirmed her speculations. It didn’t, however, answer where she came from. Most people assumed she came with the tall blond man, perhaps a hearth mate or a sister, but she knew Jondalar had arrived in their
territory with only his brother. Where had he found this woman?
“Ayla! How nice to see you again.”
She looked up to see Branag arm in arm with Deegie. They embraced with warmth, and rubbed cheeks. Though she had only met him once, he felt like an old friend, and it was nice to know
someone
at this Meeting.
“Mother wants you to come and meet the headwoman and headman of Wolf Camp,” Deegie said.
“Of course,” Ayla said, rather glad for an excuse to get away from the sharp-eyec Brecie. Ayla had noticed the quick mind at work in the woman’s shrewd guesses, and felt a little uncomfortable around her. “Jondalar, will you stay here with the horses?” She had noticed a few other people had walked over with Branag and Deegie, and were edging closer to the animals. “This is still all new to them, and they are happier when someone they know is around. Where’s Rydag? He can watch Wolf.”
“He’s inside,” Deegie said.
Ayla turned to look, and noticed him standing shyly in the entrance. “Tulie wants me to meet headwoman. Will you watch Wolf?” Ayla signaled and spoke.
“I watch,” he signaled, glancing at the crowd of people standing around, a bit apprehensively. Rydag came out slowly, then sat down beside Wolf and put his arm around him.
“Look at that! She even talks to flatheads. She must be good with animals!” a sneering voice shouted from the crowd. Several people laughed.
Ayla spun around and glared, looking for the one who spoke.
“Anyone can talk to them—you can talk to a rock, too—it’s getting them to talk back,” another voice said, which caused more laughter.
Ayla turned in that direction, almost sputtering, so angry she could hardly speak.
“Is someone here trying to say that boy is an animal?” A more familiar voice spoke out. Ayla frowned as a member of the Lion Camp came forward.
“I am, Frebec. Why not? He doesn’t know what I’m saying. Flatheads are animals, you’ve said it often enough.”
“Now I’m saying I was wrong, Chaleg. Rydag knows exactly what you’re saying, and it’s not hard to get him to talk back to you. You just have to learn his language.”
“What language? Flatheads can’t talk. Who’s telling you these stories?”
“Sign language. He speaks with his hands,” Frebec said. There was general derisive laughter. Ayla was watching him, curious now. Frebec did not like being laughed at.
“Don’t believe me, then,” he said, shrugging and starting to walk away, as though it didn’t matter, then he turned to face the man who had been ridiculing Rydag. “But I’ll tell you something else. He can talk to that wolf, too, and if he tells that wolf to get you, I wouldn’t wager on your chances.”
Unknown to Chaleg, Frebec had been signaling to the boy, the hand motions meant nothing to the stranger. Rydag in turn had questioned Ayla. The whole Lion Camp was watching, taking delight in knowing what was coming by means of this secret language, which they could speak in front of all these people without their knowing it.
Without turning around, Frebec continued, “Why don’t you show him, Rydag?”
Suddenly Wolf was no longer sitting peacefully with the arm of a child around him. In one smooth leap, Wolf was at the man, hackles raised, teeth bared, and a growl that raised the hair on the back of every onlooker’s neck. The man’s eyes opened round as he jumped back in sheer terror. Most of the people near him jumped back as well, but Chaleg kept on going. At Rydag’s signal, Wolf calmly walked back to his place beside the boy, looking rather pleased with himself, turned around a few times, then settled down with his head on his paws, and watched Ayla.
It was taking a chance, Ayla conceded to herself. However, the signal that was given was not exactly one to attack. It was a game the children played with Wolf, a pouncing, mock-attack game that young wolves often played with each other, except Wolf had been taught to curb his bite. Ayla had been using a similar signal on their hunting forays when she wanted him to flush game for her. Though sometimes he ended up pouncing and killing the animals for himself, it was nothing like a signal to actually hurt someone, and Wolf hadn’t touched the man. He had only leaped toward him. But the danger was that he might have.
Ayla knew how protective wolves were about their own territory, or their own pack. They would kill to defend it. Yet, as she watched him walk back, she thought, if wolves could laugh, he’d be laughing. She could not help but feel
that he knew what was going on; that the idea was only to bluff, and he knew just how to do it. It wasn’t just a mock attack, there was nothing playful about the way he moved. He gave every signal of attack. He had just stopped short. The sudden exposure to masses of people had been difficult for the young wolf, but he had acquitted himself well. And seeing the look on that man’s face made it worth taking the chance. Rydag was not an animal!
Branag looked a little shocked, but Deegie was grinning as they joined Tulie and Talut, and another couple. Ayla was formally introduced to the co-leaders of the host Camp, and immediately knew what everyone else knew. Marlie was very ill. She shouldn’t even be standing here, Ayla thought, mentally prescribing medicines and preparations for her. As she noticed her color, the look of her eye, the texture of her skin and hair, Ayla wondered if anything could help her, but she sensed the strength of the woman; she would not give in easily. That could be more important than medicines.
“That was quite a demonstration, Ayla,” Marlie said, noticing the interesting peculiarity of her speech. “Was it the boy or you controlling the wolf?”
“I don’t know,” she said, smiling. “Wolf responds to signals, but we both gave them.”
“Wolf? You say it like a name,” Valez said.
“It is his name.”
“Do the horses have names, too?” Marlie asked.
“The mare is
whinny.”
Ayla said it like the sound a horse would make, and Whinney nickered back, causing smiles, but nervous ones. “Most people just say her name, Whinney. The stallion is her son. Jondalar named him Racer. It is a word from his language that means one who likes to run fast and beat the others.”
Marlie nodded. Ayla looked hard at the woman for a moment, then turned to Talut. “I am very tired from working to make that place for the horses. Do you see that big log? Would you bring it here so I can sit?”
For a moment the big headman was totally startled. It was so out of character. Ayla simply would not ask such a thing, especially in the middle of a conversation with the headwoman of the host Camp. If anyone needed a place to sit, Marlie did. Then it hit him. Of course! Why hadn’t he thought of it before? He hurried to get the log and manhandled it back himself.
Ayla sat down. “I hope you don’t mind. I really am tired. Won’t you join me, Marlie?”
Marlie sat, shaking a little. After a while, she smiled. “Thank you, Ayla. I hadn’t planned to stay here so long. How did you know I was feeling dizzy?”
“She’s a Healer,” Deegie said.
“A Caller and a Healer? That’s an unusual combination. No wonder the Mammoth Hearth claimed her.”
“There is something I’d like to prepare for you, if you would take it,” Ayla said.
“Healers have seen me, but you are welcome to try, Ayla. Now, before the subject is lost forever, there is a question I want to ask. Were you certain the wolf would not harm that man?”