The Shelters of Stone (113 page)

People were immediately caught up in the story of an orphaned girl who could count only five years. She explained that the home of the clan that found her had been destroyed by the same earthquake, and they were looking for a new one when they came across her. She told them that they knew that she was not Clan, but one of the Others, the word they used for people like her, and she talked about being adopted by the medicine woman of Bran’s clan, and her brother, Creb, who was a great mog-ur, which was like a Zelandoni. As she continued, she forgot her nervousness and just spoke naturally, with all of the emotion and genuine feelings about her life with the people who called themselves the Clan of the Cave Bear.

She didn’t hold back anything, not the difficulties she had with Broud, who was the son of the mate of the leader, Bran, or her joy in learning medicine from Iza. She talked about her love for Creb and Iza, and her Clan sister, Uba, and about her curiosity when she picked up the sling for the first time. She told how she taught herself to use it, and several years later, the consequences for doing so. She hesitated only when it came to talking about her son. For all the First’s logical and high-minded argument about the Clan being children of the Mother, too, she could tell from the expressions and body language of several people, especially those who had made objections to Echozar mating Joplaya, that their feelings had not changed. They had just decided that it might be best to keep them to themselves for the time being. Ayla thought it might be best to refrain from mentioning, too.

She told them about being forced to leave the Clan when Broud became leader, and though she tried to explain what a death curse was, she didn’t think they fully understood the real power of its coercive force. It did literally cause the death of individual members of the Clan if they had no place to go and no one, not even their dearest loved ones, would acknowledge that they even existed. She spoke only briefly about her time in the valley, but talked in more detail about Rydag, the mixed child that was adopted by Nezzie, the mate of the headman of the Lion Camp.

“Unlike Echozar, he did not have the strength of the Clan, and he was weak internally, but like the Clan, he could not make certain sounds. I taught him and Nezzie, and then the rest of the Lion Camp, and Jondalar, to communicate with hand signs. It made Nezzie very happy the first time he called her ‘mother,’ ” Ayla ended.

Then Jondalar came forward and told the story of how he and his brother Thonolan met some men of the Clan shortly after they got across the plateau glacier on the highland to the east. Then he told the funny story on himself about catching only half a fish because he shared the other half with a young man of the Clan. He also explained the circumstances that led to their spending a few nights with the Clan couple Guban and Yorga, and of “talking” to them in the sign language Ayla had taught him.

“If there is one thing I learned on my Journey,” Jondalar said, “it is that the ones we have always called flatheads are people, intelligent people. They are no more animals than you or me. Their ways may be different, their intelligence may even be different, but it is not less. It is just different. There are some things we can do that they can’t, but there are also some things they can do that we can’t.”

Then Joharran stood up and talked about his concerns and working out new ways to deal with them. Finally, Willamar talked about the possibility of trading with them. Afterward there were many questions, and the discussion went on for a long time. It was a revelation to the zelandonia and the Zelandonii leaders. Some found it difficult to believe, but most listened with an open mind. It seemed obvious that Ayla’s story was true; not even the best Story-Teller could have made up a tale that was so convincing. And it revealed the Clan as humane, even if some didn’t want to believe they were human. Nothing was resolved, but it gave everyone something to think about.

The First stood then to end the meeting. “I think we have all learned some things of importance,” she said. “I appreciate Ayla’s willingness to come here and talk to us so freely about her unusual experiences. She has given us a rare insight into
the life of people who may be strange, but who were willing to take in a child they knew was different and treat her as one of their own. Some of us have felt fear if we happened to see a flathead when we were out hunting or collecting something. It seems that fear is misplaced if they were willing to take in someone who is lost and alone.”

“Do you think that means that they took in that woman from the Ninth Cave who was lost some time ago?” said the white-haired Zelandoni of the Nineteenth Cave. “If I recall correctly, she was pregnant when she returned. The Mother may have decided to Bless her when she was with the flatheads, and used the spirit of one of them to—”

“No! That’s not true! My mother was not an abomination!” Brukeval cried out.

“That’s right. Your mother was not an abomination,” Ayla said. “That’s what we’ve been trying to say. None of those with mixed spirits is an abomination.”

“My mother was not of mixed spirits,” he said. “That’s why she was not an abomination.” He looked at her with such loathing, Ayla had to turn her head aside to avoid the force of his glare. Then he stalked out.

There were no more discussions. People got up and started leaving. On the way out, the One Who Was First noticed Marona looking at her in a rude and insolent way, then she overheard Laramar talking with Zelandoni of the Fifth Cave and his acolyte, Madroman.

“How can Jondalar’s hearth be among the first?” he asked. “The excuse was that she had such a high ranking among the Mamutoi, the people she supposedly came from, that it shouldn’t be lowered here, but she doesn’t even know what people she was actually born to. If she was raised by flatheads, then she’s more flathead than Mamutoi. Tell me what rank a flathead has? She should have been last, but now she’s among the first. I don’t think it’s right.”

After the long and grueling session, which ended with such a vehement outburst, Ayla felt wrung out. She supposed it must be disturbing for people to suddenly learn that creatures
they had thought of as animals were actually thinking, caring people. It was a radical change, and change never came easy, but Brukeval’s reaction was irrational, and his glare so full of malice, he scared her.

Jondalar suggested they get the horses and go for a ride to get away from everyone and relax after the unsettling events that ended the meeting. Ayla was happy to see Wolf loping along beside them again and no longer wearing bandages, though he wasn’t entirely healed yet.

“I tried not to show it, but I was so angry at those people who objected to their mating because Echozar’s mother was Clan,” Ayla said. “And though Zelandoni and Dalanar asked for a special meeting, I don’t think anything was settled. At the Matrimonial, I think the only reason some of them agreed was because they were not Zelandonii. They call themselves ‘Lanzadonii,’ but I can’t see any difference. What is the difference, Jondalar?”

“In one sense, Zelandonii just means us, the People, the children of the Great Earth Mother, but so does Lanzadonii. The actual meaning of Zelandonii would be Earth’s Children of the Southwest, and Lanzadonii, Earth’s Children of the Northeast,” Jondalar explained.

“Why didn’t Dalanar just continue to call himself Zelandonii and make his people another Cave with the next higher counting word?” Ayla asked.

“I don’t know. I never asked him. Maybe because they live so far away. It’s not like you can get there in an afternoon, or even in a day or two. I think he knows that while there may always be des, someday they will be different people. Now that he has his own Zelandoni, or rather, Lanzadoni, he has even less reason to make the long trip to our Summer Meetings. Probably their doniers will still be trained by the zelandonia for quite a while, but as they continue to grow, they will begin to train their own.”

“They will be like the Losadunai,” Ayla said. “The language, and ways, are so close to Zelandonii, they must have been the same people once.”

“I think you’re right, and that may be why we are still
such good friends with them. We don’t count them in our names and ties, but there may have been a time when we did,” Jondalar said.

“I wonder how long it has been. There are many differences now, even in the words of their Mother’s Song,” Ayla said. They rode a little farther. “If the Zelandonii and the Lanzadonii are the same people, why did the ones who objected to Joplaya mating Echozar finally go along with it? Just because their name says they live in the northeast? It’s not reasonable. But then, their objection was not reasonable in the first place.”

“Look who was behind it,” Jondalar said. “Laramar! Why is he trying to stir up trouble? You’ve done nothing but try to help his family. Lanoga adores you, and I doubt if Lorala would even be alive today if you hadn’t stepped in. I wonder if he really cares or just likes the attention. I don’t think he has ever been invited to a special meeting like that with all high-status people, several of them, including the First, presenting the case to him and the few others who were making an issue out of it. Now that Laramar has a taste of it, I’m afraid he is going to keep on making problems, just to keep getting attention. But I still don’t understand Brukeval, of all people. He knows Dalanar and Joplaya, he’s even kin.”

“Did you know that Matagan’s mother told me Brukeval was at the camp of the Fifth Cave trying to convince some people to make an objection to Joplaya’s mating before the Matrimonial?” Ayla said. “He has a strong feeling against the Clan, but seeing him and Echozar together, you can see the resemblance. There is a cast to his features that is definitely Clan, not as strong as Echozar’s, but it is there. I think he hates me now because I said his mother was born of mixed spirits, but I was just trying to say that people who are mixed are not bad, not abominations.”

“He must still think they are. That’s why he tries so hard to deny it. It must be terrible to hate what you are,” Jondalar said. “You can’t change that. It’s funny. Echozar hates the Clan, too. Why do they hate the people that they are a part of?”

“Maybe it’s because other people hurt them because of
who they are, and they can’t hide it because they actually do look different,” Ayla said. “But the way Brukeval glared at me before he left was so full of hate, he frightens me. He reminds me a little of Attaroa, as though there is something not right with him. As though there is something wrong or deformed about him, like Lanidar with his arm, but on the inside.”

“Maybe some evil spirit has gotten inside of him, or his elan is twisted,” Jondalar said. “I don’t know, but perhaps you should watch out for Brukeval, Ayla. He may try to make more trouble for you.”

T
he summer waxed, and the days became hotter. The grasses of the fields grew tall and turned golden, their heads nodding with the weight of their seed—the promise of new life. Ayla’s body grew heavy, too, filled with the new life of her unborn child. She was working beside Jondalar, pulling seeds from wild oats, when she felt movement for the first time. She stopped and pressed her hand to her bulging middle. Jondalar saw the morion.

“What’s wrong, Ayla?” he asked with a worried frown.

“I just felt the baby move. It’s the first time I’ve felt life!” she said. She seemed to be smiling inwardly. “Here,” she said, taking the winnowing stone from Jondalar’s large hand and placing his hand on her stomach. “Maybe the baby will move again.”

He waited expectantly, but felt nothing. “I don’t feel anything,” he finally said. Just then there was a small movement under his hand, barely a ripple. “I felt it! I felt the baby!” he said.

“The movement will get stronger later,” Ayla said. “Isn’t it wonderful, Jondalar? What would you like the baby to be? A boy or a girl?”

“It doesn’t matter. I just want the baby to be healthy, and I want you to have an easy birthing. What do you want your baby to be?” he asked.

“I think I’d like a girl, but I’d be just as happy with a boy. It doesn’t really matter. I just want a baby your baby. It is your baby, too.”

“Hey, you two. The Fifth Cave is sure to win if you keep loafing like that.” They turned to watch a young man approaching. He was average height, with a compact, wiry build. He walked with a crutch under one arm, carrying a skin of water with his other. “Would you like some water?” he said.

“Hello, Matagan! It’s hot, this water is welcome,” Jondalar said, taking the bag, lifting it over his head, and letting the water pour from the spout into his mouth. “How is the leg?” he said, handing the waterbag to Ayla.

“Getting stronger all the time. I may be able to throw this stick away before long,” he answered, smiling. “I’m only supposed to be carrying water for the Fifth Cave, but I saw my favorite healer and thought I’d cheat a little. How are you feeling, Ayla?”

“I’m fine. I felt life for the first time a little while ago. The baby is growing,” she said. “Who do you think is ahead?”

“It’s hard to say. The Fourteenth has several basketfuls already, but the Third just located a new large stand.”