Plains of Passage (96 page)

Ayla turned and left, and Jondalar followed, but her words carried more weight than she could know. Most people already felt that she was not an ordinary woman, and many were saying that she was an incarnation of the Great Mother Herself; a living munai in human form, who
had come to take Attaroa and set the men free. What else could explain horses that came at her whistle? Or a wolf, huge even for his own large northern breed, following her wherever she went and sitting quietly at her command? Wasn’t it the Great Earth Mother Who had given birth to the spirit forms of all the animals?

According to the rumors, the Mother had created both women and men for a reason, and She had given them the Gift of Pleasures to honor Her. The spirits of both men and women were necessary to make new life, and Muna had come to make it clear that anyone trying to create Her children some other way was an abomination to Her. Hadn’t She brought the Zelandonii to show them how She felt? A man who was the embodiment of Her lover and mate? Taller and more handsome than most men, and light and fair like the moon. Jondalar was noticing a difference in the way the Camp was acting toward him, which made him uneasy. He didn’t much like it.

   There had been so much to do the first day, even with both healers and help from most of the Camp, that Ayla put off the special treatment she wanted to try on the boys with the dislocations. S’Armuna had even delayed the burial of Attaroa. The following morning a site was selected and the grave was dug. A simple ceremony conducted by the One Who Served finally returned the headwoman to the bosom of the Great Mother Earth.

A few even felt some grief. Epadoa had not expected to feel anything, and yet she did. Because of the way most of the Camp felt, she couldn’t express it, but Ayla could see from her body language, her postures and expressions, that she was struggling with it. Doban also exhibited strange behavior, and she guessed he was trying to deal with his own mixed emotions. For most of his young life, Attaroa had been the only mother he knew. He had felt betrayed when she turned on him, but her love had always been erratic, and he couldn’t entirely let go of his feelings for her.

Grief needed to be released. Ayla knew that from her own losses. She had planned to try to treat the boy right after the burial, but she wondered if she should wait longer. This might not be the right day for it, but maybe having something else to concentrate on would be better for both of them. She approached Epadoa on the way back to the Camp.

“I’m going to try to reset Doban’s dislocated leg, and I’m going to need help. Will you assist me?”

“Won’t it be painful for him?” Epadoa said. She recalled only too well his screams of pain, and she was beginning to feel protective of him. He was, if not her son, at least her charge, and she took it seriously. Her life, she was sure, depended on it.

“I will put him to sleep. He won’t feel it, though he will have some pain when he wakes up, and he will have to be moved very carefully for some time,” Ayla explained. “He won’t be able to walk.”

“I will carry him,” Epadoa said.

When they got back to the big lodge, Ayla explained to the boy that she wanted to try to straighten his leg. He pulled away from her, looking very nervous, and when he saw Epadoa coming into the lodge, his eyes filled with fear.

“No! She’s going to hurt me!” Doban screamed at the sight of the Wolf Woman. If he could have run away, he would have.

Epadoa stood straight and stiff beside the bed platform he was sitting on. “I will not hurt you. I promise you, I will never hurt you again,” she said. “And I will never let anyone else hurt you, not even this woman.”

He glanced up at her, apprehensive, but wanting to believe her. Desperately wanting to believe her.

“S’Armuna, please make sure he understands what I am going to say,” Ayla said. Then she stooped down until she could look into his frightened eyes.

“Doban, I’m going to give you something to drink. It won’t taste very good, but I want you to drink it all anyway. After a while, you will begin to feel very sleepy. When you feel like it, you can lie down right here. While you are asleep, I’m going to try to make your leg a little better, put it back the way it was. You won’t feel it because you will be sleeping. When you wake up, you will feel some pain, but it may feel better in a way, too. If it hurts too much, tell me, or S’Armuna, or Epadoa—someone will be here with you all the time—and she will give you something to drink that will make the pain go away a little. Do you understand?”

“Can Zelandon come here to see me?”

“Yes, I will get him now, if you want.”

“And S’Amodun?”

“Yes, both of them, if you want.”

Doban looked up at Epadoa. “And you won’t let her hurt me?”

“I promise. I won’t let her hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

He looked at S’Armuna, then back at Ayla. “Give me the drink,” he said.

The process was not unlike the resetting of Roshario’s broken arm. The drink both relaxed his muscles and put him to sleep. It took sheer physical strength to pull the leg straight, but when it slipped back into place, it was obvious to everyone. There had been some breakage, Ayla realized, and it would never be entirely right, but his body looked almost normal again.

Epadoa moved back into the large earthlodge, since most of the men
and boys had moved in with their kin, and she stayed near Doban almost constantly. Ayla noticed the tentative beginnings of trust developing between them. She was sure that was exactly what S’Amodun had envisioned.

They went through a similar procedure with Odevan, but Ayla feared his healing process would be more difficult and that his leg would have a tendency to pop out and become dislocated more easily in the future.

S’Armuna was impressed and a little in awe of Ayla, privately wondering if the rumors about her might not have some truth in them. She seemed like an ordinary woman, talked and slept and shared Pleasures with the tall, fair man, like any other woman, but her knowledge of the plant life that grew in the earth, and their medical properties in particular, was phenomenal. Everyone talked about it; S’Armuna gained prestige by association. And though the older woman learned not to fear the wolf, it was almost impossible to see him around Ayla and not believe that she controlled his spirit. When he wasn’t following her, his eyes were. It was the same with the man, although he wasn’t as obvious about it.

The older woman didn’t notice the horses as much because they were left to graze most of the time—Ayla said she was glad to give them the rest—but S’Armuna did see the two people ride them. The man rode the brown stallion easily enough, but seeing the young woman on the back of the mare made one think they were of the same flesh.

But though she wondered, the One Who Served the Mother was skeptical. She had been trained by the zelandonia, and she knew that such ideas were often encouraged. She had learned, and often employed, ways to misdirect people, to lead them into believing what she, and they, wanted to believe. She didn’t think of it as trickery—no one was more convinced of the rightness of her calling—but she used the means at her disposal to smooth the way and persuade others to follow. People could often be helped by such means, especially some of those whose problems and illnesses had no discernible cause, except, perhaps, curses by powerful evil people.

Though she herself was not willing to accept all the rumors, S’Armuna did not discourage them. The people of the Camp wanted to believe that anything Ayla and Jondalar said was a pronouncement from the Mother, and she used their belief to set in place some necessary changes. When Ayla talked about the Mamutoi Council of Sisters and Council of Brothers, for example, S’Armuna organized the Camp to set up similar Councils. When Jondalar mentioned finding someone from another Camp to continue the training in flint-toolmaking that he had
begun, she instigated plans to send a delegation to several other S’Armunai Camps to renew ties with kin and reestablish friendships.

On a night that fell so cold and clear the stars blazed from the heavens, a group of people were clustered outside the entrance of the former headwoman’s large earthlodge, which was becoming a center for community activities after it had served as a place for healing and recovery. They were talking about the mysterious twinkling lights in the sky, and S’Armuna was answering questions and offering interpretations. She had to spend so much time in the place—healing with medicines and ceremonies, and gathering with people to make plans and discuss problems—that she had begun to move some of her things in, and she often left Ayla and Jondalar alone in her small lodge. The arrangement was starting to resemble other Camps and Caves that Ayla and Jondalar knew, with the lodging of the One Who Served the Mother acting as a focus and gathering place for the people.

After the two visitors left the stargazers, with Wolf at their heels, someone asked S’Armuna about the wolf that followed Ayla everywhere. The One Who Served the Mother pointed to one of the bright lights in the sky. “That is the Wolf Star,” was all she said.

   The days passed quickly. As the men and boys began to recover and no longer needed her as a medicine woman, Ayla went out with those who were collecting the sparse winter foods. Jondalar got caught up in teaching his craft and showing how to make spear-throwers and hunt with them. The Camp began to accumulate more supplies of a variety of foods that were easy to preserve and store in the freezing weather, particularly meat. At first there had been some difficulties in getting accustomed to the new arrangements, with the men moving into lodges that the women considered theirs, but they were working it out.

S’Armuna felt that the timing was right to fire the figures in the kiln, and she had talked about establishing a new Firing Ceremony with her two visitors. They were at the kiln lodge, gathering some of the fuel she had collected over the summer and fall to burn for her firing, for medical purposes, and for everyday uses. She explained that they would have to gather more fuel and it would be a lot of work.

“Can you make some tree-cutting tools, Jondalar?” she asked.

“I’ll be glad to make some axes, and mauls and wedges, whatever you want, but green trees don’t burn well,” he said.

“I will be burning mammoth bone, too, but we have to get the fire good and hot first, and it has to burn for a long time. It takes a great deal of fuel for a Firing Ceremony.”

As they came out of the small lodge, Ayla looked across the
settlement at the Holding. Although people had been using bits and pieces of it, they hadn’t torn it down. She had mentioned at one time that the poles could be used for a hunting surround, a corral into which animals could be chased. The people of the Camp tended to avoid using the wood after that, and now that they had all become accustomed to it, they almost didn’t see it.

Suddenly Ayla said, “You don’t need to cut down trees. Jondalar can make wood-cutting tools to cut up the wood of the Holding.”

They all saw the fence in a new way, but S’Armuna saw even more. She began to see the outlines of her new ceremony. “That’s perfect!” she said. “The destruction of that place to create a new and healing ceremony! Everyone can take part, and everyone will be glad to see it go. It will mark the new beginning for us, and you’ll be here, too.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Jondalar said. “How long will it take?”

“It’s not something that can be hurried. It’s too important.”

“That’s what I thought. We have to be leaving soon,” he said.

“But it will soon be the coldest part of winter,” S’Armuna objected.

“And not long after that, the spring melt. You’ve crossed that glacier, S’Armuna. You know it can only be crossed in winter. And I promised some Losadunai that I would visit their Cave on the way back and spend a little time with them. Though we couldn’t stay long, it would be a good place to stop and prepare for the crossing.”

S’Armuna nodded. “Then I will use the Firing Ceremony to ease your leaving as well. There are many of us who had hoped you would stay, and all will feel your absence.”

“I had hoped to see a firing,” Ayla said, “and Cavoa’s baby, but Jondalar is right. It’s time for us to leave.”

Jondalar decided to make the tools for S’Armuna immediately. He had located a supply of good flint nearby, and, with a couple of others, he went to get some that could be made into axes and wood-cutting implements. Ayla went into the small lodge to gather together their belongings and see what else they might need. She had spread everything out when she heard a noise at the entrance. She looked up to see Cavoa.

“Am I bothering you, Ayla?” she asked.

“No, come in.”

The young, very pregnant woman entered and eased herself down on the edge of a sleeping platform, across from Ayla. “S’Armuna told me you are leaving.”

“Yes, in a day or so.”

“I thought you were going to stay for the firing.”

“I wanted to, but Jondalar is anxious to go. He says we must cross a glacier before spring.”

“I made something that I was going to give you after the firing,”
Cavoa said, taking a small leather package out of her shirt. “I’d still like to give it to you, but if it gets wet, it won’t last.” She handed the package to Ayla.

Inside the package was a small head of a lioness powerfully modeled out of clay. “Cavoa! This is beautiful. More than beautiful. It is the essence of a cave lioness. I didn’t know you were so skilled.”

The young woman smiled. “You like it?”

“I knew a man, a Mamutoi man, who was a carver of ivory, a very fine artist. He showed me how to see things that are carved and painted, and I know he would love this,” Ayla said.

“I have carved figures out of wood, ivory, antler. I’ve been doing it as long as I can remember. That’s why S’Armuna asked me to train with her. She has been so wonderful to me. She tried to help us … She was good to Omel, too. She let Omel keep the secret and never made demands, the way some would have. Many people were so curious.” Cavoa looked down and seemed to be struggling to hold back tears.

“I think you miss your friends,” Ayla said gently. “It must have been difficult for Omel to keep a secret like that.”