The Clan of the Cave Bear

25

Goov walked out of the cave, blinked at the morning sunlight, rubbed his eyes, and stretched. He noticed Mog-ur sitting hunched over on a log, staring at the ground. So many lamps and torches are out, he thought, someone could make a wrong turn and get lost. I'll ask Mog-ur if I should refill the lamps and put up new torches. The acolyte strode purposefully toward the magician, but stopped when he saw the old man's drawn face and the despondent slump of his shoulders. Maybe I won't bother him, I'll just go ahead and do it.

Mog-ur is getting old, Goov thought, walking back into the cave with a bladder of bear grease, new wicks, and extra torches. I keep forgetting how old he really is. The trip here was hard on him, and the ceremonies take a lot out of him. And there's still the journey back. Strange, the young acolyte mused, I never thought of him as old before.

A few more men wandered out of the cave rubbing sleepy eyes and stared at the naked women scattered on the ground, wondering, as they always did, what made them so exhausted. The first women to wake up ran for their wraps, then began to wake the others before too many more men came out of the cave.

«Ayla,» Uba called, shaking the woman, «Ayla, wake up.»

«Mmmmfff,» Ayla mumbled, and rolled over.

«Ayla! Ayla!» Uba said again, shaking her harder. «Ebra, I can't get her up.» «Ayla!» the woman said louder, shaking her roughly. Ayla opened her eyes and tried to signal an answer, then closed them again and curled up in a tight ball.

«Ayla! Ayla!» Ebra said again. The young woman opened her eyes once more.

«Go into the cave and sleep it off, Ayla. You can't stay out here, the men are getting up,» Ebra commanded.

The young woman stumbled toward the cave. A moment later she was back out, wide awake, but drained of color.

«What's wrong?» Uba motioned. «You're white. You look like you've seen a spirit.»

«Uba. Oh, Uba. The bowl.» Ayla slumped to the ground and buried her face in her hands.

«The bowl? What bowl, Ayla? I don't understand.»

«It's broken,» Ayla managed to gesture.

«Broken?» Ebra said. «Why should a broken bowl bother you so much? You can make another.»

«No, I can't. Not like that one. It's Iza's bowl, the one she got from her mother.»

«Mother's bowl? Mother's ceremonial bowl?» Uba asked, her face stricken.

The dry, brittle wood of the ancient relic had lost all its resilience after so many generations of use. A hairline crack had developed but went unnoticed beneath the white coating. The shock of dropping from Ayla's hand to the hard stone floor of the cave was more than it could take. It had split in two.

Ayla didn't notice Creb look up when she ran out of the cave. The knowledge that the venerable bowl was broken put a grim note of finality on his thoughts. It's fitting.

Never again will the magic of those roots be used. I will never again hold any ceremony with them, and I will not teach Goov how they were used before. The Clan will forget them. The old cripple leaned heavily on his staff and pulled himself up, feeling twinges of pain in his arthritic joints. I have sat in cold caves long enough; it is time for Goov to take over. He's young for it, but I'm too old. If I push him, he can be ready in a year or two. He may have to be. Who knows how much longer I'll last?

Brun noticed a marked change in the old magician. He thought Mog-ur's depression was caused by a natural letdown after the excitement, especially since this would be his last Clan Gathering. Even so, Brun worried how he would weather the trip back and was sure he would slow them down on the way home. Brun decided to take his hunters on one last foray, and then exchange the fresh meat for some of the host clan's stored provisions to supplement their supply for the return trip.

After the successful hunt, Brun was in a hurry to leave. A few clans had left already. With the festivities over, his thoughts returned to the home cave and the people left behind, but he was in good spirits. The challenge to his position had never been greater; it made the victory all the more satisfactory. He was pleased with himself, pleased with his clan, and pleased with Ayla. She was a good medicine woman; he had seen it before. When someone's life was threatened, she forgot everything else, just like Iza. Brun knew Mog-ur had been instrumental in persuading the other magicians, but it was Ayla herself who proved it when she saved the young hunter's life. He and his mate were going to stay with the host clan until he was well enough to travel, probably wintering with them.

Mog-ur never spoke of Ayla's clandestine visit to the small chamber deep in the mountain-except once. She was packing, getting ready to depart the next morning, when Creb shuffled into the second cave. He had been avoiding her, and it hurt the young woman who loved him. He stopped short when he saw her, and turned to leave, but she cut off his departure by rushing up and sitting at his feet. He looked down at her bowed head, heaved a sigh, and tapped her shoulder.

She looked up, shocked to see how much he had aged in just a few days. The disfiguring scar and flap of skin that covered his empty eye socket were shriveled and sunk deeper into the shadow of his overhanging brow ridges. His gray beard hung limp from his prognathous jaw, and his low, back-slanted forehead was emphasized by a receding hairline; but it was the dark sorrow in his one, liquid, deep brown eye that overwhelmed her. What had she done to him? She wished fervently she could take back her trip into the cave that night. The hurt she felt for Creb when she saw his body racked with pain was nothing to the anguish she felt for the pain in Mog-ur's soul.

«What is it, Ayla?» he motioned.

«Mog-ur, I…I…» she fumbled, then rushed on. «Oh, Creb. I can't stand to see you hurting so. What can I do? I'll go to Brun, if you want, I'll do anything you ask. Just tell me what to do.»

What can you do, Ayla, he thought. Can you change who you are? Can you take back the damage you did? The Clan will die, only you and your kind will be left. We are an ancient people. We have kept our traditions, honored the spirits and Great Ursus, but it is over for us, finished. Maybe it was meant to be. Maybe it wasn't you, Ayla, but your kind. Is that why you were brought to us? To tell me? The earth we leave is beautiful and rich; it gave us all we needed for all the generations we have lived. How will you leave it when it is your turn? What can you do?

«There is one thing you can do, Ayla,» The Mog-ur gestured slowly, emphasizing every movement. His eye turned cold. «You can never mention it again.»

He stood as tall as his one good leg would allow, trying not to lean too much on his staff. Then, with all the pride in himself and his People he could gather, he turned with stiff dignity and walked out of the cave.

«Broud!»

The young man strode over to the man who had greeted him. The women of Brun's clan were hurrying to finish the morning meal, they planned to leave as soon as they ate, and the men were taking one last opportunity to talk to people they would not see again for seven years. Some they would never see again. They were lingering over the details of the exciting meeting to make it last just a little longer.

«You did well this time, Broud, and by the next Gathering, you will be leader.»

«Next time you may do as well,» Broud gestured, puffing up with pride. «We were just lucky.»

«You are lucky. Your clan is first, your mog-ur is first, even your medicine woman is first. You know, Broud, you're lucky to have Ayla. Not many medicine women would brave a cave bear to save a hunter.»

Broud scowled slightly, then saw Voord and walked over to him.

«Voord!» he hailed, motioning. a greeting. «You did well this time. I was glad when they chose you over Nouz. He was all right, but you were definitely better.» «But you deserved to be first choice, Broud. You ran a good race, too. Your whole clan deserves its place; even your medicine woman is best, though I had my doubts at first. She'll be a good medicine woman to have around when you are leader. I only hope she doesn't get any taller. Between you and me, I feel strange having to look up at a woman.»

«Yes, the woman is too tall,» Broud said with stiff gestures.

«But what does it matter, as long as she's a good medicine woman, right?»

Broud barely nodded, then waved aside further discussion and walked away.

Ayla, Ayla, I'm getting tired of Ayla, he thought, heading across the cleared space.

«Broud, I wanted to see you before you left,» a man said, walking over to meet him halfway. «You know there is a woman in my clan with a daughter deformed like the son of your medicine woman. I talked to Brun and he has agreed to accept her, but he wanted me to talk to you. You'll most likely be leader by then. The mother has promised to raise her daughter to be a good woman, worthy of the first clan and the son of the first medicine woman. You don't have any objections, do you, Broud? It's a logical match.» «No,» Broud gestured curtly and turned on his heel. If he hadn't been so angry, he might have objected, but he didn't feel like getting into a discussion about Ayla.

«By the way, that was a good race, Broud.»

The young man didn't see the comment, his back was already turned. As he stalked toward the cave, he saw two women avidly engrossed in conversation. He knew he should look away to avoid seeing what they were saying, but he just stared straight ahead, affecting not to notice them.

I just couldn't believe she was a woman of the Clan, and then, when I saw her baby…But the way she walked right up to Ursus, just like she belonged to the host clan, not afraid of him or anything. I couldn't have done it.»

«I talked to her for a while, she's really nice, and she acts perfectly normal. I can't help but wonder, though, do you think she'll ever find a mate? She's so tall, what man wants a woman taller than he is? Even if she is a first-ranked medicine woman.» «Someone told me one clan is considering her, but there just wasn't time to work out the details, and I think they want to talk about it. They said they'd send a runner if they decide to accept her.»

«But don't they have a new cave? They say she found it, and that it's very big, and lucky, too.»

«It's supposed to be near the sea, and the paths are well used. I think a good runner could find them.»

Broud passed the two women and had to restrain an urge to cuff the lazy, gossiping busybodies. But they weren't of his clan, and though it was his prerogative to discipline any woman, it wasn't good policy to cuff one from another clan without permission of mates or leaders, unless the infractions were obvious. It was obvious enough to him, but it might not be to someone else.

«Our medicine woman says she's skilled,» Norg was saying as Broud entered the cave.

«She is Iza's daughter,» Brun motioned, «and Iza has trained her well.»

«It's a shame Iza couldn't make it. She is ill, I understand.» «Yes, that's one reason I want to hurry. We have a long way to go. Your hospitality has been excellent, Norg, but one's own cave is home. This has been one of the best Clan Gatherings. It will be long remembered,» Brun said.

Broud turned his back, clenching his fists, before he could see the compliment Norg paid to the son of Brun's mate. Ayla, Ayla, Ayla. Everybody is talking about Ayla.

You'd think no one did anything at this Clan Gathering except her. Was she first chosen?

Who was on the bear's head while she was safely on the ground? So what if she saved that hunter's life, he'll probably never walk again. She's ugly, and she's too tall, and her son is deformed, and they should know how insolent she is at home.

Just then, Ayla ran past, carrying several bundles. Broud's look of hate was so full of malice it made her flinch. What did I do now? she thought. I've hardly seen Broud the whole time we've been here.

Broud was a full-grown, powerfully built man of the Clan, but the threat he posed was far greater than mere physical harm. He was the son of the leader's mate, and destined to be leader himself one day. He thought about that as he watched Ayla put her bundles down outside the cave.

After they ate, the women quickly packed the few utensils they had used to make the morning meal. Brun was impatient to leave, and so were they. Ayla had a few last gestures with some of the medicine women, Norg's mate, and a few others, then wrapped her son in his carrying cloak and took her place in front of the women of Brun's clan. Brun gave a signal, and they started across the cleared area in front of the cave. Before rounding the bend in the trail, Brun stopped, and they all turned to look back one last time. Norg and his whole clan were standing at the mouth of their cave.

«Walk with Ursus,» Norg signaled.

Brun nodded and started out again. It would be seven years before they saw Norg again-or perhaps never. Only the Spirit of the Great Cave Bear knew.

Just as Brun had thought, the return trip was difficult for Creb. No longer buoyed by anticipation, and further depressed by brooding over the knowledge he kept secret, the old man's body betrayed him time and time again. Brun's concern deepened; he had never known the great magician to be so dispirited. He lagged behind. Many times Brun had to send a hunter back to find him while they waited. The leader slowed the pace, hoping it would make it easier for him, but Creb just didn't seem to care. The few evening ceremonies, held at Brun's insistence, lacked force. Mog-ur seemed reluctant, his gestures stiff, as though his heart wasn't in it. Brun noticed that Creb and Ayla kept their distance, and though she had no trouble keeping up, Ayla's step had lost its spring. There's something wrong between those two, he thought.

They had been traveling through tall, sere grass since midmorning. Brun glanced back, Creb was nowhere in sight. He started to signal one of the men, then changed his mind and walked back to Ayla instead.

«Go back and find Mog-ur,» he motioned.

She looked surprised, then nodded. Giving Durc to Uba, she hurried back along the trail of bent, stepped-on grass. She found him quite a distance behind, walking slowly and leaning heavily on his staff. He seemed to be in pain. Ayla had been so stunned by his response to her loving remorse she hadn't known what to say to him afterward. She was sure he was suffering from his aching, arthritic joints, but he had refused to let her give him anything for the pain. After the first few rebuffs, she didn't offer again, though her heart ached for him. He stopped when he saw her.

«What are you doing here?» he gestured.

«Brun sent me back for you.»

Creb grunted and started walking again. Ayla fell in behind him. She watched his slow, painful movements until she couldn't stand it anymore. She went around him and dropped to the ground at his feet, forcing him to stop. Creb looked down at the young woman for a long time before he tapped her shoulder.

«This woman would know why The Mog-ur is angry.»

«I'm not angry, Ayla.»

«Then why won't you let me help you?» she pleaded. «You never refused before.» Ayla struggled to compose herself. «This woman is a medicine woman. She is trained to help those in pain. It is her place, her function. It hurts this woman to see The Mog-ur suffer, she cannot help it.» Ayla couldn't maintain the formal posture. «Oh, Creb, let me help you. Don't you know I love you? To me, you are like the mate of my mother. You have provided for me, spoken for me, I owe my life to you. I don't know why you stopped loving me, but I haven't stopped loving you.» Tears streamed down her face in hopeless desperation.

Why does water always come to her eyes when she thinks I don't love her? And why should her weak eyes always make me want to do something for her? Do all the Others have that problem? She is right, I never minded her help before, why should it matter now? She is not a woman of the Clan. No matter what the rest think, she was born to the Others and she will always be one of them. She doesn't even know it. She thinks she's a Clan woman, she thinks she's a medicine woman. She is a medicine woman. She may not be of Iza's line, but she is a medicine woman, and she has tried to become a Clan woman, as hard as it was for her sometimes. I wonder, how hard is it for her? This is not the first time water has come to her eyes, but how many times has she fought to hold it back? It's when she thinks I don't love her that she can't hold it. Can it hurt her so much?

How much would it hurt me if I thought she didn't love me? More than I'd like to think. If she loves the same, can she be so different? Creb tried to see her as a stranger, as a woman of the Others. But she was still Ayla, still the child of the mate he never had.

«We'd better hurry, Ayla. Brun is waiting. Wipe your eyes, and when we stop, you can make me some willowbark tea, medicine woman.»

A smile broke through her tears. She scrambled up and fell in behind him again. After a few paces, she moved up to his weak side. He halted a moment, then nodded and leaned on her for support.

Brun noticed an improvement immediately and soon picked up the pace again, though they still weren't traveling as fast as he would have liked. There was an air of melancholy about the old man, but he seemed to be trying harder. I knew there was a problem with those two, Brun thought, but they seem to have worked it out. He was glad he had the idea to send her back for him.

Creb did let Ayla help him, but there was still a distance between them, a breach too great for him to span. He couldn't forget the difference in their destinies and it created a strain that dampened the easy warmth of earlier days.

Though the days were hot as Brun's clan trekked back to their cave, the nights were growing cool. The first sight of snowcapped mountains far to the west heartened the clan, but as the distance hardly diminished with the passing days, the range at the southern tip of the peninsula became just a part of the scenery. The distance did diminish, though, however imperceptibly. As they continued day after weary day in their westward direction, the blue depths of crevasses gave character to the glaciers and the indistinct purple below the icy crown took on shapes of outcrops and ridges.

They pushed on until dark before they made camp the last night on the steppes, and everyone was awake at first light. The plains merged into a parkland of open meadow and tall trees, and the sight of a grass-eating, temperate-climate rhinoceros brought a feeling of familiarity, after it went on its way without deigning to notice them. The pace quickened when they came to a path that wound up the foothills. Then they rounded a familiar ridge and saw their cave, and every heart beat faster. They were home.

Aba and Zoug were rushing to meet them. Aba welcomed her daughter and Droog joyously, hugged the older children, then took Groob in her arms. Zoug nodded at Ayla as he ran toward Grod and Uka, then Ovra and Goov.

«Where is Dorv?» Ika motioned.

«He walks in the world of the spirits now,» Zoug replied. «His eyes got so bad, he couldn't see what anyone was saying. I think he gave up and didn't want to wait for your return. When the spirits called, he left with them. We buried him and marked the place so Mog-ur could find it for the death rites.»

Ayla looked around, suddenly anxious. «Where's Iza?»

«She is very ill, Ayla,» Aba said. «She hasn't been out of her bed since the last new moon.»

«Iza! Not Iza! No! No!» Ayla cried, running toward the cave. She threw her bundles down when she reached Creb's hearth and rushed toward the woman lying on her furs.

«Iza! Iza!» the young woman cried. The old medicine woman opened her eyes.

«Ayla,» she said, her gruff voice barely audible. «The spirits have granted my wish,» she motioned feebly. «You're back.» Iza held out her arms. Ayla embraced her and felt her thin, frail body, hardly more than bones covered with wrinkled skin. Her hair was snow white; her face, dried parchment stretched over bones with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. She looked a thousand years old. She was just past twenty-six.

Ayla could hardly see for the tears that streamed down her face. «Why did I go to the Clan Gathering? I should have stayed here and taken care of you. I knew you were sick, why did I go away and leave you?»

«No, no, Ayla,» Iza motioned. «Don't blame yourself. You can't change what is meant to be. I knew I was dying when you left. You couldn't have helped me, no one could. I just wanted to see you one more time before I went to join the spirits.» «You can't die! I won't let you die! I'll take care of you. I'll make you get well,» Ayla gestured wildly.

«Ayla, Ayla. There are some things even the best medicine woman cannot do.» The exertion brought on a coughing spell. Ayla held her propped up until the cough quieted. She shoved her fur behind the woman to raise her up and make her breathing easier, then began rummaging through the medicines stored near Iza's bed.

«Where's the elecampane? I can't find any elecampane.»

«I don't think there's any left,» Iza motioned weakly. The fit of coughing had exhausted her. «I used a lot of it and couldn't go out to get more. Aba tried to find some, but she brought back sunflowers.»

«I shouldn't have gone,» Ayla said, then raced out of the cave. She met Uba, carrying Durc, and Creb at the entrance.

«Iza's sick,» Ayla waved frantically, «and she doesn't even have any elecampane.

I'm going to get some. There's no fire at the hearth, Uba. Why did I go to the Clan Gathering? I should have stayed here with her. Why did I leave?» Ayla's bleak face, grimy with travel, was streaked with tears, but she neither noticed nor cared. She ran down the slope as Creb and Uba hurried into the cave.

Ayla splashed across the stream, raced to the meadow where the plants grew, and dug up the roots with her bare hands, tearing them out of the ground. Stopping at the stream just long enough to wash them, she sped back to the cave.

Uba had a fire going, but the water she had started heating was just barely warm.

Creb was standing over Iza making formal motions with more fervor than he had felt for many days, calling on every spirit he knew to strengthen her life essence, and pleading with them not to take her, yet. Uba had put Durc on a mat. He was just starting to crawl and pulled himself up on his hands and knees. He scooted toward his mother busy cutting up the root into small pieces, but she pushed him away when he tried to nurse. Ayla had no time for her son. He started to howl while she dumped the root into the water and added more rocks, impatient for it to boil.

«Let me see Durc,» Iza motioned. «He's grown so much.» Uba picked him up and brought him to her mother. She put the baby on Iza's lap, but he was in no mood to cuddle with an old' woman he didn't remember, and struggled to get down again.

«He's strong and healthy,» Iza said, «and he doesn't have any problems holding his head up.»

«He even has a mate already,» Uba said, «or at least a baby girl that has been promised for him.»

«A mate? What clan would promise a girl to him? So young, and with his deformity.»

«There was a woman at the Clan Gathering with a deformed daughter. She came and talked to us the first day,» Uba explained. «The baby even looks like Durc, at least her head does. Her features are a little different. The mother asked if they could be mated;

Oda was so worried that her daughter would never find a mate. Brun and the leader of her clan arranged it. I think she will be coming here to live after the next Gathering, even if she's not a woman. Ebra said she could live with her until they were both old enough to mate. Oda was so happy, especially after Ayla made the drink for the ceremony.» «So they did accept Ayla as a medicine woman of my line. I wondered if they would,» Iza gestured, then she stopped. Talking made her tired, but just seeing her loved ones around her again rejuvenated her spirit, if not her body. She rested for a while, then asked, «What is the girl's name?»

«Ura,» Iza's daughter answered.

«I like the name, it has a good sound.» Iza rested again, then asked another question. «What about Ayla? Did she find a mate at the Clan Gathering?» «The clan of Zoug's kin is considering her. They refused at first, but after she was accepted as a medicine woman, they decided to think it over. There wasn't time to settle anything before we left. They might take Ayla, but I don't think they want Durc.» Iza just nodded, then closed her eyes.

Ayla was grinding meat to make into a broth for Iza. She kept checking the boiling water with the root for the right color and flavor, impatient for it to be done. Durc crawled up to her, whining, but she brushed him off again.

«Give him to me, Uba,» Creb motioned. It quieted the boy for a while, sitting in Creb's lap, intrigued with the man's beard. But he soon grew tired of that, too. He rubbed his eyes and struggled to get loose of the restraining arm, and when freed crawled straight for his mother again. He was tired, and he was hungry. Ayla was standing over the fire and hardly seemed to notice when the cranky baby tried to pull up on her leg. Creb heaved himself up, then dropped his staff and signaled Uba to put the boy into his arm.

Limping heavily without his support, he shuffled to Broud's hearth and laid Durc in Oga's lap.

«Durc is hungry and Ayla is busy making medicine for Iza. Will you feed him, Oga?»

Oga nodded, took the baby from him, and gave Durc her breast. Broud glowered, but one dark glance from Mog-ur made him cover his anger quickly. His hatred of Ayla did not extend to the man who protected and provided for her. Broud feared Mog-ur too much to hate him. He had discovered at an early age, however, that the great holy man seldom interfered in the secular life of the clan, confining his activities to the spirit world.

Mog-ur had never tried to prevent Broud from exercising control over the young female who shared his hearth, but Broud had no wish to lock horns with the magician directly.

The man shuffled back to his hearth and began to search through the bundles that had been dumped for the bladder of cave bear grease that was his share of the rendered fat from the ceremonial animal. Uba saw him and hurried over to help. Creb took it with him into his place of the spirits. Though he was sure it was hopeless, he was going to use every bit of magic at his command to help Ayla try to keep Iza alive.

The roots had finally boiled long enough and Ayla scooped out a cup of the liquid, impatient now for it to cool. The warm broth fed to her earlier, in small sips with Ayla propping her head up just as Iza had done for her when she was a five-year-old and near death, had revived the old medicine woman somewhat. She had eaten little since she had taken to her bed, and not much before. Food brought to her often went untouched. It had been a desolate, lonely summer for Iza. With no one around to watch her and make sure she ate, she often forgot, or just didn't bother. The other three had all tried to help when they saw she was failing, but they didn't know how.

Iza had roused herself when Dorv's end was near, but the oldest member of the clan went quickly and there was little she could do except try to make him more comfortable. His death had cast a pall on the others. The cave seemed far emptier with him gone and it made them all realize how close they were to the next world. His was the first death since the earthquake.

Ayla was sitting beside Iza, blowing on the liquid in the bone cup and tasting now and then to see if it was cool enough. Her concentration on Iza was so complete, she didn't notice Creb leaving with Durc or see him go into his small cave, and she wasn't aware that Brun was watching her. She heard the soft bubbling sounds of Iza's breath and knew she was dying, but wouldn't let herself believe it. She searched her memory for treatments.

A poultice of the inner bark of balsam, she thought. Yes, and a yarrow tea.

Breathing the steam will help, too. Blackberries and wort, and maidenhair. No, that's just for a minor cold. Burdock roots? Maybe. Starchwort? Of course, and the fresh root is best in fall. Ayla was determined to fill Iza with teas, cover her with poultices, and drown her in steam, if necessary. Anything, everything, to prolong the life of her mother, the only mother she knew. She could not bear the thought of Iza's death.

Though Uba was acutely conscious of the seriousness of her mother's illness, she was not unaware of Brun's presence. It was not common for men to pay a visit to another man's hearth when he wasn't there, and Brun made Uba nervous. She scurried to pick up the bundles strewn around the hearth to tidy it up, glancing from Brun to Ayla to her mother. With no one to guide her and give her direction, she didn't know how to handle Brun's visit. No one acknowledged him, no one welcomed him, what was she supposed to do?

Brun observed the trio of females-the old medicine woman, the intense young medicine woman who bore no resemblance to the Clan, yet was their highest-ranked woman of healing, and Uba, destined to be a medicine woman, too. He had always been fond of his sibling. She was the baby girl who was petted and coddled, and welcomed, once a healthy boy had been born to take over the leadership. He had always felt protective toward her. He would never have chosen the man who had been her mate for her; Brun never had liked him, a braggart who ridiculed his crippled brother. Iza had no choice, but she handled it well. Yet she had been happier since her mate died than she ever had before. She was a good woman, a good medicine woman. The clan would miss her.

Iza's daughter is growing up, he thought, watching her. Uba will be a woman soon. I should start thinking about a mate for her. It should be a good mate, one who will be compatible. It's better for a hunter, too, if his mate is devoted to him. But who is there except Vorn? There's Ona to consider, too, and she can't mate Vorn, they're siblings.

She'll have to wait until Borg is a man. If she becomes a woman early, she could have a child before Borg is ready to mate. Perhaps I should push him a little, he's older than Ona. Once he's old enough to relieve his needs, he's old enough to become a man. Will Vorn be a good mate for Uba? Droog has been a good influence on him, and he likes to show off around her. Perhaps there is an attraction there. Brun filed his thoughts away in his orderly mind for future reference.

The elecampane-root tea was cooled and Ayla wakened the old woman who had dozed off, tenderly cradling her head while she fed her the medicine. I don't think you will pull her through this time, Ayla, Brun said to himself, watching the frail woman.

How did she age so fast? She was the youngest; now she looks older than Creb. I remember the time she set my broken arm. She wasn't much older than Ayla was when she set Brac's, but a woman and mated. She did a good job, too. It's never given me any trouble, except a few twinges lately. I'm getting old, too. My hunting days will soon be over, and I'll have to pass the leadership to Broud.

Is he ready for it? He did so well at the Clan Gathering, I almost gave it to him then. He's brave; everyone told me how lucky I am. I am lucky, I was afraid he might be chosen to go with Ursus. It would have been an honor, but that's one honor I was glad to forgo. Gorn was a good man, it was hard on Norg's clan. It always is when Ursus chooses. Sometimes it's lucky not to be honored; the son of my mate still walks this world. And he is fearless. Maybe too fearless. A bit of daring and recklessness is fine for a young man, but a leader must be more sober. He must consider his men. He must think and plan so the hunt will be successful, yet not endanger his men needlessly. Maybe I should start to let him lead a few hunts, to give him the experience. He's got to learn there's more to leadership than daring. There's responsibility and self-control.

What is it about Ayla that brings out the worst in him? Why does he demean himself by competing with her? She may look a little different, but she's still a woman.

Brave for a woman, though, determined. I wonder if Zoug's kin will take her? It would seem strange without her, now that I've gotten used to her. And she is a good medicine woman, an asset to any clan. I'll do what I can to make sure they appreciate her value.

Look at her-not even her son, the son she was ready to follow to the next world, can take her mind off Iza. Not many would brave a cave bear to save a man's life. She can be fearless, too, and she's learned to control herself. She behaved well at the Gathering, in every way a proper woman, not like when she was younger. No one had anything but praise for her by the time it was over.

«Brun,» Iza called out in a weak voice. «Uba, bring the leader some tea,» she motioned, trying to sit up straighter. She was still the proper mistress of Creb's hearth.

«Ayla, bring a fur for Brun to sit on. This woman regrets she is unable to serve the leader herself.»

«Iza, don't trouble yourself. I didn't come for tea, I came to see you,» Brun gestured, sitting down beside her bed.

«How long have you been standing there?» Iza asked.

«Not long. Ayla was busy; I chose not to disturb her, or you, until she was through. You were missed at the Clan Gathering.»

«Was it successful?»

«This clan is still first. The hunters did well; Broud was chosen first for the Bear Ceremony. Ayla did well, too. She received many compliments.» «Compliments! Who needs compliments? Too many make the spirits jealous. If she did well, if she brought honor to the clan, that is enough.» «She did well. She was accepted, she behaved as a proper woman. She is your daughter, Iza. How can anyone expect less?»

«Yes, she is my daughter, as much as Uba is my daughter. I was fortunate, the spirits chose to favor me with two daughters and both of them will be good medicine women. Ayla can finish training Uba.»

«No!» Ayla interrupted. «You will finish Uba's training. You're going to get well.

We're back now, we'll take care of you. You'll get well, just wait and see,» she motioned with earnest desperation. «You have to get well, mother.» «Ayla. Child. The spirits are ready for me, I must go with them soon. They gave me my last wish, to see my loved ones before I go, but I can't make them wait much longer.»

The broth and medicine had stimulated the last of the sick woman's reserves. Her temperature was rising in her body's valiant effort to fight off the disease that had sapped her. The sparkle in her fever-glazed eyes and the color it lent to her cheeks gave her a false look of health. But there was a translucent glow to Iza's face as though lit from within. It was not the flush of life. The eerie quality was called the spirit glow, and Brun had seen it before. It was the rising of the life force as it prepared to leave.

Oga kept Durc at Broud's hearth until late, returning the sleeping child long after the sun had set. Uba laid him on Ayla's furs that she had spread out. The girl was frightened and lost. She had no one to turn to. She was afraid to interrupt Ayla in her efforts to save Iza, and afraid to disturb her mother. Creb had returned only long enough to paint symbols on Iza's body with a paste of red ochre and bear fat, while he made his gestures over her. He returned to the small cave immediately afterward and didn't return.

Uba had unpacked everything and set the hearth in order, made an evening meal that no one ate, and cleared it away. Then she sat quietly beside the sleeping baby, wishing she could think of something to do, anything to keep busy. Though it didn't still the terror in her heart, activity at least kept her occupied. It was better than just sitting there watching her mother die. Finally she lay down on Ayla's bed, curling herself around the baby, cuddling close to him in a forlorn attempt to draw warmth and security from someone.

Ayla worked constantly over Iza, trying every medicine and treatment she could think of. She hovered over her, afraid to leave her side, afraid the woman would slip away while she was gone. She was not the only one who maintained a vigil that night.

Only the young children slept. At every hearth in the darkened cave, men and women stared at the red coals of banked fires, or lay on furs with open eyes.

The sky outside was overcast, blotting out the stars. The darkness inside the cave faded into a deeper black at the wide entrance, shrouding any hint of life beyond the dying embers of the cave fire. In the still of early morning, when the night was full into its somber depths, Ayla jerked her head up from a momentary doze.

«Ayla,» Iza said again in a hoarse whisper.

«What is it, Iza?» she motioned. The medicine woman's eyes reflected the dim light of the ruddy charcoal in the fireplace.

«I want to say something before I go,» Iza gestured, then dropped her hands. It was an effort for her to move them.

«Don't try to talk, mother. Just rest. You'll be stronger in the morning.»

«No, child, I must say it now. I won't last until morning.»

«Yes, you will. You have to. You can't go,» Ayla signaled.

«Ayla, I'm going, you have to accept it. Let me finish, I don't have much longer.»

Iza rested again, while Ayla waited in mute hopelessness.

«Ayla, I always loved you best. I don't know why, but it's true. I wanted to keep you with me, wanted you to stay with the clan. But soon I'll be gone. Creb will find his way to the spirit world before long, and Brun is getting old, too. Then Broud will be leader. Ayla, you cannot stay here when Broud is the leader. He will find a way to hurt you.» Iza rested again, closing her eyes and fighting for breath and strength to continue.

«Ayla, my daughter, my strange willful child who always tried so hard, I trained you to be a medicine woman so you would have enough status to stay with the clan, even if you never found a mate. But you are a woman, you need a mate, a man of your own.

You are not Clan, Ayla. You were born to the Others, you belong with them. You must leave, child, find your own kind.»

«Leave?» she motioned, confused. «Where would I go, Iza? I don't know any Others, I wouldn't even know where to look for them.»

«There are many to the north of here, Ayla, on the mainland beyond the peninsula.

My mother told me the man her mother healed came from the north.» Iza stopped again, then forced herself to go on. «You cannot stay here, Ayla. Go and find them, my child.

Find your own people, find your own mate.»

Iza's hands dropped suddenly and her eyes closed. Her breathing was shallow.

She strained to take a deep breath and opened her eyes again.

«Tell Uba I love her, Ayla. But you were my first child, the daughter of my heart.

Always loved you…loved you best…» Iza's breath expired with a bubbling sigh. She did not take another.

«Iza! Iza!» Ayla screamed. «Mother, don't go, don't leave me! Oh, mother, don't go.»

Uba woke at Ayla's wail and ran to them. «Mother! Oh, no! My mother is gone! My mother is gone.»

The girl and the young woman stared at each other.

«She told me to tell you she loved you, Uba,» Ayla said. Her eyes were dry, the shock still hadn't fully registered in her brain. Creb shuffled toward them. He was already out of his cave before Ayla screamed. With a heaving sob, Ayla groped for them both, and they all found themselves clasped in a grieving embrace of mutual despair. Ayla's tears wet them all. Uba and Creb had no tears, but their pain was not less.