The Land of Painted Caves (41 page)

Ayla smiled at him. “There aren’t many trees out here to fall, Jondalar.”

He smiled a little ruefully. “That’s true, and all the more reason to be out here when the ground shakes,” he said.

“But how would you know when the ground is going to shake?”

“By paying attention to the horses!” he said.

“If only I could be sure that would always work,” she said.

As they neared Old Valley, they noticed unusual activity. Almost everyone seemed to be outside of the shelters, and many of them were clustered around in front of one of them. They dismounted and walked the horses toward the shelter they had been using, which was just beyond the one where the people were gathered.

“There you are!” the First called out. “I was a little worried about you when the ground started shaking.”

“We’re fine. Are you all right?” Ayla said.

“Yes, yes, but the Fifth Cave has had some injuries, one serious,” the woman said. “Perhaps you might take a look.”

Ayla detected the note of concern in her voice. “Jondalar, would you take the horses and see how everything is? I’m going to stay here and help Zelandoni,” she said.

She followed the large woman until they came to the place in front of the shelter where a boy was lying on a fur bedroll that was spread out on the ground, with the fur side down to make a padding underneath. Extra pads and blankets had been placed under him to elevate his head and shoulders slightly. Soft, pliable skins, covered with blood, were directly under his head, and blood was still seeping out. She took Jonayla out of her carrying blanket, set it out on the ground, and put the baby down on it. Wolf lay down next to her. Then Hollida appeared.

“I’ll watch her,” she said.

“I would be grateful,” Ayla said. She saw a cluster of people nearby who seemed to be consoling a woman, and realized that it was probably the boy’s mother. She knew how she would feel if he were her son. She exchanged a look with the First, held it for a moment, and understood that the boy’s injury was more than serious. It was grim.

Ayla knelt down to examine him. He was lying in the open in the light of the sun, though high clouds shielded the brightness somewhat. The first thing she noticed was that he was unconscious, but breathing, though it was slow and irregular. He had bled a great deal, but that was usually the case with head wounds. Much more serious was the pink-tinged fluid draining from his nose and ears. That meant the bone of the skull was cracked and the substance inside injured, which did not bode well for the child. Ayla understood the First’s concern. She lifted his eyelids and looked at both of his eyes; one of the pupils contracted in the light, and the other was larger than the first and did not react, another bad sign. She turned his head slightly to allow the bloody mucus coming from his mouth to drain to the side and not clog his breathing passages.

She had to control a reaction to shake her head so the mother wouldn’t see how hopeless she thought it was. She got up and looked intently at the First, communicating her bleak prognosis. They went off to the side where the Zelandoni of the Fifth Cave was watching. Some people from his shelter had come to get the Zelandoni when the boy was hurt, and he had already examined him. He had asked the First to look at the child to confirm his diagnosis.

“What do you think?” the man said under his breath, looking at the older woman, then at the younger one.

“I don’t think there’s any hope for him,” Ayla said in a very soft voice.

“I’m afraid I agree,” the One Who Was First said. “There is very little that can be done for an injury like that. He has not only lost blood, but he is also losing other fluids from inside his head. Soon the wound will swell and that will be the end.”

“That’s what I thought. I will have to tell his mother,” the Zelandoni of the Fifth said.

The three Zelandonia walked to the small group of people who were obviously trying to comfort the woman who was sitting on the ground not far from the boy. When she looked at the expressions on the faces of the three Zelandonia, the woman broke out in sobs. The Zelandoni of the Fifth Cave knelt down beside her.

“I am sorry, Janella. The Great Mother is calling Jonlotan back to Her. He was so full of life, such a joy, that Doni can’t bear to be without him. She loves him too much,” the man said.

“But I love him, too. Doni can’t love him more than I do. He’s so young. Why does She have to take him now?” Janella sobbed.

“You will see him again, when you return to the Mother’s breast, and walk the next world,” the Fifth said.

“But I don’t want to lose him now. I want to see him grow up. Isn’t there anything you can do? You are the most powerful Zelandoni there is,” the boy’s mother pleaded, looking at the First.

“You can be sure that if there were, I would be doing it. You don’t know how much it hurts me to say it, but there is nothing I can do for someone with such a severe injury,” the One Who Was First said.

“The Mother has so many, why does She want him, too?” Janella sobbed.

“That is one question to which we are not given to know the answer. I am sorry, Janella. You should go to him while he still breathes, and comfort him. His elan must find his way to the next world now and I’m sure he is frightened. Though he may not show it, he will be grateful for your presence,” the large, powerful woman said.

“Since he’s still breathing, do you think he might wake up?” Janella asked.

“It is possible,” the First said.

Several people helped the woman up and led her to her dying son. Ayla picked up her child, held her close for a moment, and thanked Hollida, then walked toward the shelter in which they were staying. The two Zelandonia joined her.

“I wish there were something I could do. I feel so helpless,” the Zelandoni of the Fifth Cave said.

“We all do at a time like this,” the First said.

“How long do you think he’ll live?” he asked.

“You never know. He could linger for days,” the Zelandoni of the Ninth Cave said. “If you want us to stay, we will, but I wonder how extensive this earthquake was, and if it was felt at the Ninth Cave. We have a few people who didn’t go to the Summer Meeting …”

“You should go and see how they are,” the Fifth said. “You are right. There’s no telling how long the boy will linger. You may be the First, but you are still responsible for the Ninth Cave, and seeing to their well-being. I can do whatever is necessary here. I have before. Sending someone’s elan to the next world is not my most favorite part of taking care of one’s Cave, but it needs to be done, and it is important that it be done right.”

Everyone slept outside of the stone shelters that night, mostly in tents. They were too apprehensive to go inside, where rocks might still fall, except to run in and retrieve something they needed. There were a few aftershocks, and a little more rock shook loose from the walls and ceilings of the shelters, but nothing as heavy as the piece that fell on the boy’s head. It would be a while before anyone would feel like being in a stone shelter, though when the cold and snow of the periglacial winter arrived, people would forget the peril of falling rocks and be glad for some protection from the weather.

   The procession of people, horses, and a wolf started out in the morning. Ayla and the First stopped in to see the boy, but more to see how his mother was bearing up. They both had mixed feelings about leaving. They wanted to stay and help the mother of the injured boy cope with her loss, but they were both concerned about those who had stayed behind at the stone shelter of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandoni.

They traveled south, following The River as it wound along its sinuous course downstream. The distance was not too great, though they had to cross back over The River and climb up the highland and back down again because the curving stream forced the water against the rock walls in one section, but the horses made the trek both easier and faster. By late afternoon, they were in sight of the sheer limestone cliff with the column near the top that appeared to be falling, which housed the large abri of the Ninth Cave. They strained to see if there were any differences that might warn them of damage to their home, or injury to its inhabitants.

They reached Wood Valley and made their way across the small river that fed into The River. People were standing on the northern end of the stone front porch that faced southwest waiting for them as they started up the path. Someone had seen them coming and told the others. When they passed by the jutting corner that held the hearth of the signal fire, Ayla noticed it was still smoldering from recent use and wondered why.

Because the Ninth Cave had so many people, the number who had stayed back from the Summer Meeting, for one reason or another, was nearly as great as those who made up the total of some of the smaller Caves, though it was comparable in proportion to the other groups. The Ninth Cave had the greatest number of people of any of the Caves of the Zelandonii, including the Twenty-ninth and the Fifth, which had several stone shelters. Their abri was extraordinarily large and had plenty of room to comfortably house their large number, and more. In addition, the Ninth Cave had individuals who were very skilled in many ways and had much to offer. As a result they had a very high status among the Zelandonii. People wanted to join them, but they could only take in so many and tended to be selective, choosing those who reinforced their standing, though once someone was born to them or became a member, they were very seldom turned out.

All who had not gone to the Summer Meeting, who were able, came out to watch the travelers arrive, many of them gaping with surprise; they had never seen their Donier sitting on a seat that was pulled by Ayla’s horse. Ayla stopped to let Zelandoni step off the pole-drag, which she did with unruffled dignity. The First saw a middle-aged woman, Stelona, whom she knew to be level-headed and responsible, she had stayed at the Ninth Cave to care for her ailing mother.

“We were visiting the Fifth Cave and felt a strong earhquake. Did you feel it here, Stelona?” the First said.

“We felt it, and people were frightened, but it didn’t seem too bad. Some rocks fell, but mostly in the gathering area, not here. No one was hurt,” Stelona said, anticipating the Zelandoni’s next question.

“I’m glad to hear that. The Fifth Cave was not so lucky. A boy was severely injured when a large rock fell on his head. I’m afraid there’s little hope for him. He may already be walking the next world,” the Donier said. “Have you heard anything from the other Caves in this area, Stelona? The Third? The Eleventh? The Fourteenth?” the First said.

“Only smoke from their signal fires to let us know they were there and didn’t need any immediate help,” Stelona said.

“That’s good, but I think I’ll go see what damage, if any, they sustained,” the Donier said, then turned to look at Ayla and Jondalar. “Would you like to come along? And perhaps bring the horses? They could be useful if anyone does need help.”

“Today?” Jondalar asked.

“No, I was thinking of making a tour of our neighbors tomorrow morning.”

“I’d be glad to go with you,” Ayla said.

“Of course, I will, too,” Jondalar said.

Ayla and Jondalar unloaded Racer’s travois, except for their own things, and left the bundles on the ledge in front of the living section, then led the horses pulling the nearly empty pole-drags past the part of the shelter where most of the people lived. They lived at the the other end of the inhabited area, although the overhanging stone protected a much larger section, which was only used occasionally, except for the places they had made for the horses. As they walked along the front of the huge abri, they couldn’t help but notice some newly fallen pieces of stone, but nothing too large, nothing much bigger than pieces that sometimes split off by themselves for no reason that anyone could determine.

When they reached the large, flat stone near the edge of the front porch that Joharran and others sometimes used to stand on when they wanted to address a group, Ayla wondered when it fell and what had caused it. Was it an earthquake or had it just sheared off by itself? Suddenly the stone shelters that had seemed so protective didn’t feel quite so safe anymore.

As they started to lead the horses under the overhanging ledge toward their space, Ayla wondered if they would balk the way they had the night before. But the place was familiar to them and they apparently sensed no danger. They went right in, which gave her an immense feeling of relief. There is really no protection when the earth decides to shake, inside or out, but if the horses were to give her a warning again, she did think she would rather be outside.

They unhitched the two pole-drags and left them in their usual place, then led the horses to the corrals that they had made for them. They were not penned in. The structures they had constructed under the overhanging ledge were there for the animals’ comfort; they were free to come and go at any time. Ayla brought water from the spring-fed stream that separated the Ninth Cave from Down River, and poured it into their troughs, although the horses could just as easily have gotten water from the stream themselves. She wanted to make sure that water was available in the middle of the night, especially for the little one.

Only during the spring rutting season were there any constraints on the horses. Then not only did they fasten the gates closed, put halters on the animals, and tie them to posts to keep them from getting free, but Ayla and Jondalar usually slept nearby to drive away the stallions that were drawn to the mare. Ayla didn’t want Whinney to be captured by some stallion and driven to his herd, and Jondalar didn’t want Racer running off to be hurt fighting with other stallions in an effort to mount the tempting females. He even had to be kept away from his dam, whose mating scent was so overpoweringly close. It was a difficult time for all of them.

Some hunters took advantage of Whinney’s luring aroma, which could be detected by males more than a mile away, and killed a few of the wild horses, but they stayed out of sight of Ayla and made sure not to mention it to her. She was aware of the practice and couldn’t really blame them. She had lost her taste for horsemeat, and chose not to eat it, but she knew most people enjoyed it. Just so long as they didn’t go after her horses, she didn’t object to others hunting the animals. They were a valuable food source.