The Land of Painted Caves (75 page)

“I hope I didn’t wake you. I heard you talking—maybe you were dreaming. Zelandoni warned me this might come. She didn’t think it would be so soon, but she said it was possible. She told me not to stop you, and she told me not to let Wolf follow you, but she gave me some tea to fix for you when you came back.” She had a steaming cup of liquid, but put it down to help prop Ayla up.

The tea was hot, but not too hot, and Ayla was grateful when she felt it slide down her throat. She was still thirsty, but she lay back down, too tired to sit up. Her head started to clear. She was in her dwelling, in her own bed. She looked around and saw Wolf beside Marthona. He whined with concern and drew closer to her. She reached out to touch him and he licked her hand.

“How did I get here?” she asked. “I don’t remember much after I got out of the cave.”

“The hunters carried you here on a stretcher. They said you tried to walk, and then fainted. You ran down from your watching place and apparently all the way to the Deep Hollow of Fountain Rocks. You weren’t yourself and went in without a fire or anything. When Forason came and told me you had come out, I couldn’t get there. I’ve never felt so useless in my life,” Marthona said.

“I’m just glad you’re here, Marthona,” Ayla said, then closed her eyes again.

The next time she opened her eyes, only Wolf was there, keeping a vigil beside her bed. She smiled at him, reached over to pat his head, and scratched under his chin. He put his paws on the bed and tried to edge closer, close enough to lick her face. She smiled again, then pushed him away and tried to sit up. The groan of pain was involuntary, but it brought Marthona in a hurry.

“Ayla! What’s wrong?” she said.

“I didn’t know so many parts of me could hurt at the same time,” Ayla said. The look of concern on Marthona’s face was so strong, it was almost a caricature, and brought a smile to the young woman’s face. “But I think I’ll live.”

“You have bruises and scrapes all over, but I don’t think anything is broken,” Marthona said.

“How long have I been here?”

“More than a day. You got here yesterday, late in the afternoon. The sun went down not long ago.”

“How long was I gone?” Ayla asked.

“I don’t know when you went into the cave, but from the time you left here until you got back, it was more than three days, almost four.”

Ayla nodded. “I have no sense of the time that passed at all. I remember parts, some very clearly. It feels like something I dreamed, but different.”

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” Marthona asked.

“I’m thirsty,” Ayla said, then felt an overwhelming dryness, as though the saying of it made her realize how dehydrated she was. “Very thirsty.”

Marthona left and came back with a waterbag and a cup to drink from. “Do you want to sit up, or should I just prop up your head?”

“I’d rather try to sit up.”

She rolled on her side, trying to muffle her groans, then got up on one elbow, breaking through a scab that had been forming over a bad scrape, and pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the bed platform. She felt a moment of dizziness, but it passed. She was more surprised at how much she hurt inside. Marthona poured water in the cup and Ayla took it in both hands. She drank it down without stopping, then held it out for more. She seemed to remember gulping down water from a waterbag when she first came into the light. She finished the second cup only a little more slowly.

“Are you hungry yet? You haven’t had anything to eat,” Marthona said.

“My stomach hurts,” Ayla said.

“I imagine it does,” Marthona said, looking away.

Ayla frowned. “Why should my stomach hurt?”

“You’re bleeding, Ayla. You probably have cramps, and more.”

“Bleeding? How can I be bleeding? I’ve missed three moontimes, I’m pregnant … Oh, no!” Ayla cried. “I’ve lost the baby, haven’t I?”

“I think so, Ayla. I’m not expert in those things, but every woman knows you can’t be pregnant and bleed at the same time, at least not as much as you have. You were bleeding when you came out, and a lot since then. I think it may take a while for you to regain your strength. I’m sorry, Ayla. I know you wanted this baby,” Marthona said.

“The Mother wanted her more,” Ayla said in a dry monotone of grief-stricken shock. She lay back down and stared up at the underside of the limestone overhang. She didn’t even realize when she fell asleep again.

The next time she woke, Ayla had a strong urge to pass water. It was obviously nighttime, dark, but several lamps were burning. She looked around and saw Marthona asleep on some cushions beside the bed platform. Wolf was beside the old woman with his head up, looking at her. He’s got two of us to worry and watch over now, she thought. She rolled to her side and pulled herself up again, sitting on the bed platform for a while before she tried to get up. She was stiff, and still sore and achy, but she felt stronger. Carefully, she eased herself to her feet. Wolf stood up, too. She signaled him down again, then took a step toward the night basket near the entrance.

She wished she had thought to take some changes of absorbent padding with her. She had been bleeding quite heavily. As she started back to her sleeping place, Marthona approached, bringing her a change.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Ayla said.

“You didn’t. Wolf did, but you should have. Would you like some water? I also have some stew, if you’re ready to eat,” Marthona said.

“Water would be nice, and maybe a little stew,” Ayla said, returning to the night basket to change to clean padding. Movement had eased her soreness.

“Where do you want to eat? In bed?” the woman asked as she limped to the cooking area. She, too, was stiff and sore. Her sleeping place and position had not been good for her arthritis.

“No, I’d rather sit at the table.” Ayla went into the cooking area and poured a little water into a small basin bowl, then rinsed her hands and using a small absorbent leather scrap wiped off her face. She was sure Marthona had cleaned her up a little, but she wanted to take a nice, refreshing swim with some soaproot. Maybe in the morning, she thought.

The stew was cold, but tasty. Ayla thought she’d be able to eat several bowls of it when she took the first few bites, but she filled up sooner than she thought. Marthona made them both some hot tea and joined Ayla at the table. Wolf slipped outside while the two women were up, but was back before very long.

“Did you say Zelandoni expected that I would do something?” Ayla asked.

“She didn’t really expect it. She just thought it was possible.”

“What did she expect? I don’t really understand what happened,” Ayla said.

“I think Zelandoni could tell you better. I wish she was here, but I think you are Zelandoni now. I think you were ‘called,’ as they say. Do you remember anything?” Marthona asked.

“I remember things, and then all of a sudden, I remember something else, but I can’t seem to sort it out,” Ayla said, frowning.

“I wouldn’t worry about it yet. Wait until you have a chance to talk to Zelandoni. I’m sure she’ll be able to explain things and help you. Right now, you just need to get your strength back,” Marthona said.

“You’re probably right,” Ayla said, relieved to have an excuse to put off dealing with the whole thing. She didn’t even want to think about it, though she couldn’t help remembering the baby she had lost. Why did the Mother want to take her baby?

   Ayla did little except sleep for several days, then one day she woke up feeling starved, and couldn’t seem to get enough to eat for the next couple of days. When she finally emerged from her dwelling and joined the small group, they all looked at her with new respect, even awe, and a touch of apprehension. They knew she had been through an ordeal, which they were convinced had changed her. And they all felt a certain pride because they were there when it happened, and by association, they felt that they were somehow a part of it.

“How are you feeling?” Jeviva asked.

“Much better,” Ayla said, “but hungry!”

“Come and join us. There is plenty of food and it’s still warm,” Jeviva said.

“I think I will.” She sat down beside Jeralda, while Jeviva prepared a dish for her. “And how are you feeling?”

“Bored!” Jeralda said. “I’m so tired of sitting and lying around. I wish it was time for this baby to come.”

“I think it is probably time for the baby to come. It wouldn’t hurt if you took a walk now and then to encourage it. It’s just a matter of waiting until the baby feels ready. I thought so the last time I examined you,” Ayla said, “but I thought I’d wait before I said anything, and then I got distracted. I’m sorry.”

   That evening Marthona mentioned, with some hesitation, “I hope I didn’t do anything wrong, Ayla.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Zelandoni told me that if you did leave, not to try to stop you. When you didn’t come back that morning, I was terribly worried, but Wolf was worse. You had told him to stay with me, but he was whining and wanting to go. Just the way he was looking at me, I could tell he wanted to go and look for you. I didn’t want him to disturb anything, so I tied a rope around his neck, the way you would do sometimes when you wanted him to stay and not interrupt. But after a few days, he was so miserable, and I was so worried, I untied him. He raced out of here. Was I wrong to let him go?” the woman asked.

“No, I don’t think so, Marthona,” Ayla said. “I don’t know if I was in a spirit world, but if I was and he found me there, I think I was already returning. Wolf helped me find my way out of the cave—at least he gave me the sense that I was going in the right direction. It was dark in there, but the passages are narrow, and I kept close to the wall. I think I might have been able to find my way out anyway, but it would have taken longer.”

“I’m not sure if I should have tied him up in the first place. I don’t know if it was my place to make that decision—I know I’m getting old, Ayla, when I can’t even make a decision anymore.” The former leader shook her head, looking disgusted with herself. “Things of the spirit world were never my strength. You were so weak when you got here, maybe She thought you needed a helper. Perhaps the Mother wanted me to let that animal go so he could find you and help you.”

“I don’t think anything you did was wrong. Things tend to happen the way She wants,” Ayla said. “Right now, what I want is to go down to The River and take a long swim, and then have a good washing. Do you know if Zelandoni left behind any of that Losadunai cleansing foam? The one I showed her how to make from fat and ashes? She likes to use it for purifying, especially to clean the hands of grave-diggers.”

“I don’t know about Zelandoni, but I have some,” Marthona said. “I like to use it on weavings, sometimes. I have even used it on some of my platters, the ones I use for meat and to collect clean fat. Can you use it for bathing, too?”

“The Losadunai did sometimes. It can be harsh and make your skin red. Usually I prefer to use soaproot, or some other plant, but right now, I just want to be clean,” Ayla said.

   “If only there was a well of Doni’s healing hot waters nearby,” Ayla said to herself as she headed toward The River with Wolf at her side, “it would be perfect, but The River will do for now.” The wolf looked up at her at the sound of her voice. He had stayed close to her, not wanting to let her out of his sight since her return.

The hot sun felt good as she walked down the path toward the swimming place. She lathered all over, and washed her hair, then ducked under to rinse well and went for a long swim. She climbed up and rested on a flat rock to let the sun dry her while she combed her hair. The sun feels so good, she thought, spreading out her drying buckskin and lying on top of it. When was the first time I lay down on this rock? It was my first day here, when Jondalar and I went swimming.

She thought of Jondalar, in her mind’s eye seeing him lying naked beside her. His yellow hair and darker beard … no, it’s summer. He’d be clean shaven. His broad, high forehead beginning to show the lines caused by his habit of knotting it in concentration or concern. His vivid blue eyes looking at her with love and desire—Jonayla has his eyes. His straight fine nose and strong jaw with a full, sensuous mouth.

Her thoughts lingered on his mouth, almost feeling it. His broad shoulders, muscular arms, large, sensitive hands. Hands that could feel a piece of flint and know how it would fracture, or could caress her body with such perception that he would know how she would react. His long, strong legs, the scar on his groin from his encounter with her lion, Baby, and nearby, his manhood.

She was feeling her desire for him build just thinking about him. She wanted to see him, to be near him. She hadn’t even told him she had been expecting a baby; now she didn’t have a baby to tell him about anymore. She felt a wave of grief. I wanted the baby, but the Mother wanted it more, she thought, frowning. She knew I wanted another baby, but I don’t think the Mother would have wanted a baby that I didn’t want.

For the first time since her ordeal, she began to think about the Mother’s Song, and with a chill of recognition, remembered the verse, the new verse, the one that brought the new Gift, the Gift of Knowledge, the knowledge that men were necessary for new life to start.

Her last Gift, the Knowledge that man has his part
.

His need must be spent before new life can start
.

It honors the Mother when the couple is paired
,

Because woman conceives when Pleasures are shared
.

Earth’s Children were blessed. The Mother could rest
.

I’ve known it for a long time. Now She has told me it is true. Why did She give me this Gift? So I could share it, so I could tell the others? That’s why She wanted my baby! She told me first, told me Her last great Gift, but I had to be worthy. The cost was high, but maybe it had to be. Perhaps the Mother had to take something of great value so I would know that I had to appreciate the Gift. Gifts are not given without something of great value given back.