Mammoth Hunters (98 page)

“She claims he’s a person, you know. They say he understands everything you say, and can even talk,” another of the youngsters said.

“Sure, and if she could get the wolf to walk on his hind legs, she’d probably call him a person, too.”

“Maybe you’d better be careful what you say. Chaleg says the flathead can make the wolf go after you. He says the flathead made the wolf attack him, and he’s taking it to the Council of Brothers.”

“Well, doesn’t that prove he’s an animal? If he can make another animal attack?”

“My mother says she doesn’t think it’s right for them to bring animals to a Summer Meeting.”

“My uncle said he doesn’t mind the horses, so much, or even the wolf, so long as they keep them away, but he thinks they ought to be banned from bringing that flathead to meetings and ceremonies that are meant for people.”

“Hey, flathead! Go on, get out of here. Go back to your pack, with the other animals, where you belong.”

At first Ayla was too stunned to react to the openly derogatory comments. Then she saw Rydag close his eyes and look down, and start to head back toward Cattail Camp. With blazing anger, she stormed up to the youngsters.

“What is wrong with you? How can you call Rydag an animal? Are you blind?” Ayla said with barely restrained fury. Several people stopped to see what was going on. “Can’t you see he understands every word you say? How can you be so cruel? Do you feel no shame?”

“Why should my son feel shame?” a woman said, coming to her youngster’s defense. “That flathead is an animal, and shouldn’t be allowed at ceremonies that are sacred to the Mother.”

Several more people were crowding around now, including
most of the Lion Camp. “Ayla, don’t pay attention to them,” Nezzie said, trying to cool her rage.

“Animal! How dare you say he’s an animal! Rydag is just as much a person as you are,” Ayla cried, turning on the woman.

“I don’t have to be insulted like that,” the woman said. “I’m no flathead woman.”

“No, you aren’t! She would be more human than you are. She would have more compassion, more understanding.”

“How do you know so much?”

“No one knows better than I. They took me in, raised me when I lost my people and had no one else. I would have died if it hadn’t been for the compassion of a woman of the Clan,” Ayla said. “I was proud to be a woman of the Clan, and a mother.”

“No! Ayla don’t!” she heard Jondalar saying, but she was past all caring.

“They are human, and so is Rydag. I know, because I have a son like him.”

“Oh, no.” Jondalar cringed, as he pushed his way forward to stand beside her.

“Did she say she had a son like him?” a man said. “A son of mixed spirits?”

“I’m afraid you’ve done it now, Ayla,” Jondalar said quietly.

“She mothered an abomination? You better get away from her.” A man came forward to the woman who had been arguing with Ayla. “If she draws that kind of spirit to her, it might get inside some other women, too.”

“That’s right! You better get away from her, too,” another man said to the obviously pregnant woman standing beside him, as he led her away. Other people were drawing back, their expressions full of repugnance and fear.

“Clan?” one of the musicians said. “Those rhythms she played, didn’t she say they were Clan rhythms? Is that who she meant? Flatheads?”

As Ayla looked around, she felt a moment of panic, and an urge to run from all these people who were looking at her with such disgust. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, lifted her chin and stood her ground defiantly. What right did they have to say her son was less than human? From the corner of her eye she saw Jondalar standing beside, and just behind her, and was more grateful than she could say.

Then, on her other side, another man stepped forward. She turned and smiled at Mamut, and Ranec as well. Then
Nezzie was standing with her, and Talut, and then, of all people, Frebec. Almost as one, the rest of the Lion Camp stood beside her.

“You are wrong,” Mamut said to the throng, in the voice that seemed too powerful to come from one so old. “Flat-heads are not animals. They are people, and children of the Mother as much as you are. I, too, lived with them for a time, and hunted with them. Their medicine woman healed my arm, and I learned my way to the Mother through them. The Mother does not mix spirits, there are no horse-wolves, or lion-deer. The people of the Clan are different, but the difference is insignificant. No children like Rydag, or Ayla’s son, could be born if they were not human, too. They are not abominations. They are simply children.”

“I don’t care what you say, old Mamut,” the pregnant woman said. “I don’t want a flathead child or a mixed one. If she already had one, that spirit may linger around her.”

“Woman, Ayla is no threat to you,” the old shaman replied. “The spirit that was chosen for your child is already there. It cannot be changed now. It was not Ayla’s doing that gave her baby the spirit of a flathead man, she did not draw that spirit to her. It was the Mother’s choice. You must remember, a man’s spirit never lingers far from the man himself. Ayla grew up with the Clan. She became a woman while she lived with them. When Mut decided to give her a child, She could only choose from the men who were nearby, and they were all men of the Clan. Of course the spirit of one of them was chosen to enter her, but you don’t see any men of the Clan around here now, do you?”

“Old Mamut, what if there were some flathead men nearby?” a woman shouted out from the crowd.

“I believe they would have to be very close, even share the same hearth, before that spirit would be chosen. The people of the Clan are human, but there are some differences. While life is better than no life to the Mother, which is why Ayla was given a child when she wanted one, it is not easy to blend the two. With so many Mamutoi men around, one of them would be chosen first.”

“That’s what you say, old man,” another voice called out. “I’m not so sure it’s true. I’m keeping my woman away from her.”

“No wonder she’s so good with animals, she grew up with
them.” Ayla turned and saw that it was Chaleg who was talking.

“Does that mean their magic is stronger than ours?” Frebec replied. There was some uneasy shuffling in the crowd.

“I’ve heard her say it’s not magic. She says anyone can do it.” Frebec recognized the voice of the Mamut of Chaleg’s Camp.

“Then why hasn’t anyone done it before?” Frebec said. “You are Mamut. If anyone can do it, let me see you go out and ride back on a horse. Why don’t you bring a wolf under your control? I’ve seen Ayla whistle birds down out of the sky.”

“Why are you standing up for her, Frebec, against your own family, your own Camp?” Chaleg asked.

“What Camp is my Camp? The one that turned me out, or the one that took me in? My hearth is the Hearth of the Crane, my Camp is Lion Camp. Ayla lived near us all winter. Ayla was there when Bectie was born, and she is not mixed. The daughter of my hearth would not even be here now, if it hadn’t been for Ayla.”

Jondalar listened to Frebec with a lump in his throat. In spite of what he said, it took real courage to face down his own cousin, his own relatives, the Camp of his birth. Jondalar could hardly believe this was the same man who had been such a big troublemaker. He had been so quick to condemn Frebec in the beginning, yet who was the one who had felt embarrassed for Ayla? Who was the one who feared what people would say if she said anything about her background? Who was the one that was afraid he would be rejected by his family and his people if he stood up for her? Frebec had shown him what a coward he was. Frebec, and Ayla.

When he’d seen her swallow down her fear, and lift her chin to face them all, he had never felt more proud of anyone in his life. Then the Lion Camp stood up with her, and he could hardly believe it. The ones that counted were the ones that cared. Jondalar forgot as he thought about Ayla and the Lion Camp with praise and pride, that he had been the first one to rush to her side.

The Lion Camp returned to Cattail Camp to discuss the unexpected crisis. An initial suggestion to leave immediately was quickly abandoned. They were, after all, Mamutoi, and this was the Summer Meeting. Tulie had stopped by for Latie so that she could be included in the discussions, and pre pared for the possibility of unkind comments directed at her, Ayla, or the Lion Camp. She was asked if she wanted to delay her womanhood rites. Latie defended Ayla vehemently, and decided she would return to the special Camp for the ceremony and ritual, and just let anyone try to say anything bad about Ayla, or the Lion Camp.

Then Tulie asked Ayla why she hadn’t mentioned her son before. Ayla explained she didn’t like to talk about him because it still hurt too much, and Nezzie quickly made it clear that she had been told in the very beginning. Mamut also admitted to knowing about him. Though the headwoman wished she had known and wondered why she was not told, she did not blame Ayla. She considered whether she would have thought about the young woman any differently, had she known, and admitted she might not have credited her with as much potential value or status. Then she began to question her position. Why should it make a difference? Was Ayla any different?

Rydag was very upset and depressed, and nothing Nezzie said or did seemed to help. He wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t go out of the tent, wouldn’t communicate except to respond to a direct question. He would only sit and hug the wolf. Nezzie was grateful for the animal’s patience. Ayla decided to see if there was anything she could do. She found him sitting with the wolf on his sleeping roll in a dark corner. Wolf lifted his head, and banged his tail on the ground at her approach.

“Is it all right if I sit down here with you, Rydag?” she asked.

He shrugged an assent. She sat beside him and asked how he felt, speaking aloud to him, but automatically signing the words, too, until she realized it was probably too dark to see. It struck her then, the real advantage to being able to speak with words. It wasn’t that you couldn’t speak as well with signals and hand signs, it was that you weren’t limited by only what you could see.

It was like the difference between thrusting with a spear when hunting, like the Clan did, or throwing it. Both were effective weapons for bringing meat home, but one had greater range and possibilities. She had seen how useful motions and signs, which were not understood by everyone, could be, particularly for secret or private communication, but overall, there was a greater advantage in speaking with words that could be heard and understood. With a full verbal language, you could speak to someone who was behind a barrier, or in a different room, or even shout across a distance, or to a large group. You could speak when someone’s back was turned, or when you were holding something, which freed the hands for other purposes, and you could speak softly in the dark.

Ayla sat quietly with the boy for some time, not asking questions, just offering closeness and company. After a while, she started talking to him, telling Rydag about the time she lived with the Clan.

“In some ways, this Meeting reminds me of the Clan Gathering,” Ayla said. “Here, even if I look the same as everyone, I feel different. There, I was different … taller than any of the men by then … just a big ugly woman. It was awful when we first got there. They almost weren’t going to let Brun’s clan stay because they brought me. They said I wasn’t Clan, but Creb insisted that I was. He was the Mog-ur, and they didn’t dare dispute him. It’s a good thing Durc was only a baby. When they saw him, they thought he was deformed, and they all stared. You know how it feels. But he wasn’t deformed. He was just a mixture, like you are. Or maybe you are more like Ura. Her mother was Clan.”

“You say before, Ura will join with Durc?” Rydag asked, turning toward the light from the fire to make his motions seen. He was intrigued in spite of himself.

“Yes. Her mother came to me, and it was arranged. She was so relieved to know there was another child, a boy, like
her daughter. She was so afraid Ura would never find a mate. To be honest, I didn’t think about it much. I was just grateful that Durc was accepted into the Clan.”

“Durc is Clan? He is mixed, but Clan?” the boy signed.

“Yes, Brun accepted him, Creb named him. Not even Broud can take that away from him. And everyone loves him—except Broud—even Oga, Broud’s mate. She nursed him, when I lost my milk, right along with her son, Grev. They grew up together like brothers, and they are good friends. Old Grod made Durc a little spear, just his size.” Ayla smiled at the memory. “Uba loves him best, though. Uba is my sister, like you and Rugie. She is Durc’s mother now. I gave him to Uba when Broud made me leave. He may look a little different, but yes, Durc is Clan.”

“I hate it here,” Rydag motioned with vehement anger. “I wish I am Durc and live with Clan.”

Rydag’s comment startled Ayla. Even after they talked more, and she finally convinced him to eat something, and then tucked him into his bed, it stayed on her mind.

Ranec watched Ayla all evening. He noticed how she would stop in the middle of some activity, like lifting a bite of food to her mouth, for example, while her eyes glazed over with a faraway look, or a frown of concentration creased her forehead. He knew her thoughts were weighing heavily on her mind, and he wanted so much to comfort her, share them with her.

Everyone stayed at Cattail Camp that night, and the tent was crowded. Ranec waited until Ayla finally started to slide into her fur bedroll, then he quickly went to his.

“Will you share my furs tonight, Ayla?” Ranec watched her close her eyes and frown. “I don’t mean for Pleasures,” he added quickly, “unless you want to. I know this has been a hard day for you …”

“I think it’s been harder for Lion Camp,” Ayla said.

“I don’t think it’s been any harder, but that doesn’t matter. I just want to give you something, Ayla. My furs to keep you warm, my love to comfort you. I want to be close to you tonight.”

She nodded acquiescence, and slid into Ranec’s bedroll with him, but she could not sleep, could not even rest comfortably, and he was aware of it.

“Ayla, what’s troubling you? Would you like to talk about it?” Ranec said.