The Land of Painted Caves

Chapter 29

Ayla climbed the steep path to the top of the cliff. She carried a load of wood in a carrier that hung from a tumpline across her forehead and set it down near the battered column of basalt that seemed to grow at a precarious angle out of the edge of the limestone cliff. She stopped to gaze at the whole panorama. As often as she had seen it this past year that she had been marking the risings and settings of the moon and sun, the expansive view never failed to move her. She watched The River below flow in sinuous curves from north to south. Darkening clouds hugged the crests of the hills across The River to the east, obscuring their sharp outline. They would likely become more clear near dawn tomorrow, when she needed to see where the sun rose to compare it with the day before.

She turned the other way. The sun, blindingly brilliant, was on its downward path; it would soon be sunset and the bottoms of the few white fluffy clouds were tinged with pink, promising a grand show. Her eyes continued their movement to the horizon. She was almost sorry to see that the view toward the west was clear. She would have no excuse to avoid coming up tonight, she thought, as she headed back down to the Ninth Cave.

When she reached her dwelling under the sheltering limestone overhang, it was cold and empty. Jondalar and Jonayla must have gone to Proleva's for their meal tonight, Ayla thought, or maybe Marthona's. She was tempted to go and look for them, but what was the use if she had to go out anyway?

She found tinder, flint, and a firestone near the cold hearth and started a fire. When it was well established, she added some cooking stones to it, then checked the waterbag and was glad to find it full. She poured some water into a wooden cooking bowl for tea. She searched around the hearth area and found some cold soup in a tightly woven basket that had been coated with river clay to make the cooking and storage pot even more watertight, something most of the women had started doing only within the last few years. With a ladle carved out of an ibex horn, she scooped up some of the contents from the bottom, and with her fingers picked out a few bites of cold meat and a rather soggy root of some kind, then moved the pot closer to the fire, and with bentwood tongs pushed some hot coals around it.

She added a few more sticks of wood to the fire then sat down cross-legged on a low cushion while she waited for the stones to heat so she could bring the tea water to a boil, and closed her eyes. She was tired. The past year had been particularly difficult for her because she had to be awake during the night so much. She almost drifted off to sleep sitting up, but jerked awake when her head bobbed down.

With her fingers, she flicked a few drops of water on the cooking stones, watched them disappear with a hiss and a wisp of vapour, then using the bentwood tongs with the charred ends she picked up a cooking stone from the fire and dropped it into the bowl of water. The water roiled and sent up a cloud of steam. She added a second stone and when the water calmed down, she dipped her little finger in to test the heat. It was hot, but not as hot as she wanted. She added a third stone from the fire and waited for it to settle, then scooped out a large cupful of steaming water and dropped in a few pinches of dried leaves from a row of covered baskets on a shelf near the hearth and set down the tightly woven cup to wait for the tea to steep.

She checked a pouch that was dangling from a peg pounded into a support post. It held two small, flat sections of a megaceros antler and a flint burin that she had been using to gouge marks on the flat pieces cut out of the giant deer horn. She checked the tool to see if its chisel-like end was still sharp; with use, pieces spalled off. For a handle, the opposite end had been inserted into a section of antler from a roe deer that had been softened in boiling water. It hardened again when it dried. On one piece of flat antler she had been keeping a record of the sun's and moon's settings. On the second, she made tally marks to show the number of days from one full moon to the next — with the full moon, the absence of the moon, and the opposite-facing half discs indicated among the tally marks. She tied the pouch to her waist thong; then she ladled some warm soup into a wooden bowl and drank it down, stopping only to chew the pieces of meat.

From her sleeping room, she got her fur-lined cloak with the hood and wrapped it around her shoulders — it was cold at night even in summer — picked up the cup of hot tea, and left her dwelling. She again went toward the rising path at the back of the abri, just beyond the edge of the overhang, and started up, wondering where Wolf was. He was often her only companion on her long nightly vigils, lying on the ground at her feet as she sat on the top of the cliff bundled up in warm clothes.

When she came to the fork in the trail, she took a quick sip of tea, then put the cup down and hurried around to the trenches. Though they were moved to a slightly different place every year or so, they were always in the same general area. She quickly relieved herself, then hurried back to the path, picked up her cup, and followed the other fork, the steep narrow path that led up to the top of the cliff.

Not far from the strange leaning stone embedded deep into the top of the cliff face was the black circular lens of a charcoal-filled fireplace within a ring of stones, and a few smooth river rocks that made good cooking stones. Next to a natural outcrop of rock, a depression had been carved out of the frangible limestone beside the column. A large panel of dried grass woven so that rain ran off the overlapping rows was leaning against the stone. Under it were a couple of bowls, including a cooking bowl, and a leather pouch that held some odds and ends such as a flint knife, a couple of packets of tea, and some dried meat. Beside it was a rolled-up fur and inside that a rawhide packet containing fire-making materials, a crude stone lamp and a few wicks, and some torches.

Ayla put the packet aside; she would not light a fire until after the moon rose. She spread out the fur and settled herself down in her accustomed place, using the outcrop as a backrest, with her back to The River to watch the horizon to the west. She took the antler plaques and flint burin from the pouch, and looked closely at the record of the setting sun she had made so far, then back at the top edge of the western landscape.

Last night it set just to the left of that small rise, she said to herself, squinting her eyes to keep out the long, bright rays of the sun. The glowing hot light slipped behind a dusty haze near the ground, masking the searing incandescence to a glowing red disc. It was as perfectly round as its nighttime companion when it was full. Both celestial orbs were precisely circular, the only perfect circles in her environment. With the haze, the sun was easier to see, and it was easier to place its precise setting in relation to the silhouetted hilly line of the horizon in the distance. In the dimming light, Ayla gouged out a mark on her antler plaque.

Then she turned to face east, across The River. The first stars had made their appearance in the darkening sky. The moon would soon show his face, she knew, though sometimes it rose before the sun set, and sometimes it showed a paler face against a clear blue sky during the day. She had been watching the sun and moon rise and set for nearly a year, and while she hated the separation from Jondalar and Jonayla that her watch of the heavenly bodies had necessitated, she had been fascinated by the knowledge she had gained. Tonight, though, she felt unsettled. She wanted to go to her dwelling, crawl into her furs with Jondalar, and have him hold her, touch her, and make her feel as only he could. She stood up and sat back down, trying to find a more comfortable position, trying to prepare herself for her long, lonely night.

To pass the time and help keep herself awake, she concentrated on repeating in a low tone some of the many songs, and long histories and legends, often in rhyme, that she was committing to memory. Though she had an excellent memory, there was a lot of information she had to learn. She had no voice for melody and didn't try to sing them as many of the zelandonia did, but Zelandoni had told her singing wasn't necessary, so long as she knew the words and the meaning of them. The wolf seemed to enjoy the sound of her soft voice droning in metric monotony as he dozed beside her, but not even Wolf was with her tonight.

She decided to recite one of the histories, a story that told about the before times, a story that was particularly difficult for her. It was an early reference to the ones the Zelandonii called Flatheads, the ones she thought of as her Clan, but her mind kept drifting away. The story was full of names that held no familiarity, events that had no meaning for her, and concepts that she didn't quite understand, or perhaps, with which she didn't agree. She kept thinking of her own memories, her own history, her early life with the Clan. Maybe she ought to switch to a legend. They were easier. They often told stories that were funny or sad, that explained or exemplified customs and behaviour.

She heard a faint sound, a panting breath, and turned to see Wolf coming up the path to join her. He bounded toward her, obviously happy to see her. She felt the same. 'Hello, Wolf,' she said, roughing up the thick fur around his neck and smiling as she held his head and looked into his eyes. 'I'm so glad to see you. I'm in the mood for company tonight.' He licked her face, then tenderly took her jaw in his teeth. When he let go, she gently held his furry muzzle in her teeth for a moment. 'I think you are glad to see me, too. Jondalar and Jonayla must be back, and she is probably sleeping. It relieves my mind to know you are looking after her, Wolf, when I can't be there.'

The wolf settled at her feet; she wrapped the cloak tightly around her, sat back down to wait for the moon to rise, and tried to concentrate on a legend about one of the Zelandonii ancestors, but instead she recalled the time that she nearly lost Wolf on their Journey. They were making a perilous crossing of a flooded river and had become separated from him. She remembered searching for him, cold and wet and nearly out of her mind with the fear that she had lost him. She felt again the sinking dread when she finally found him unconscious, afraid he was dead. Jondalar had found them both, and though he was cold and wet, too, he had done everything. She was so cold and exhausted, she was useless. He had put up the shelter, carried her and the half-drowned wolf inside, saw to the horses, took care of them all.

She wrenched her mind back to the present, feeling a need for Jondalar. Maybe the counting words, she thought. She started to say them, 'One, two, three, four,' and remembered how delighted she had been the first time Jondalar had explained them to her. She had understood the abstract concept immediately, counting things she could see in her cave: she had one sleeping place; one, two horses; one, two … Jondalar's eyes are so blue.

I must stop this, she thought. Ayla stood up and walked toward the columnar stone that seemed balanced so precariously close to the edge. Yet last summer when several men had tried to push it over, thinking it might pose a danger, they couldn't budge it. It was the stone that she had seen from below on the day she and Jondalar first arrived, she remembered, the one that made a distinctive outline against the sky. She vaguely recalled seeing it before in a dream.

She reached out and put her hand on the large stone near the base, and suddenly snatched it away. Her fingertips seemed to tingle where she had touched the stone. When she looked at it again, in the dim light of the moon, it felt as though the stone had moved slightly, leaned closer to the edge, and was it glowing? She backed away, staring at the peculiar stone. I must be imagining it, she thought. She shut her eyes and shook her head. When she opened them, the stone looked like any other stone. She reached out to touch it again. It felt like rock, but as she held her hand on the rough stone, she thought she felt a tingling again.

'Wolf, I think this is one night the sky can do without me,' she said. 'I'm starting to see things that aren't there. And look! The moon is already up, and I missed its rising. I'm not doing any good out here tonight anyway.'

She thought about lighting a torch, but decided against taking the time to make a fire — the moon was bright enough. She picked her way carefully down the path by the light of the moon and stars with Wolf leading the way. She glanced back once more at the rock. It still seems to glow, she thought. Maybe I've been looking at the sun too much. Zelandoni did warn me to be careful.

It was much darker inside, but she could see by the reflection from the roof of the abri of a large communal fire that had been lit earlier in the evening and was still burning. Ayla entered her dwelling quietly. Everyone seemed to be sleeping, but a small lamp gave off a dim light. They often lit one for Jonayla. It took her longer to fall asleep when it was pitch dark. The lichen wick soaking in the melted fat burned for quite a while, and it had often served Ayla well when she came home late at night. She looked beyond the partition into the room where Jondalar was sleeping. Jonayla had crept in beside him again. She smiled at them, and started towards Jonayla's bed, not wanting to disturb them. Then she stopped and shaking her head, went to their bed.

'Is that you, Ayla?' Jondalar said sleepily. 'Is it morning already?'

'No, Jondalar. I came in early tonight,' she said as she picked up the tow-headed child and put her in her own bed. She tucked her in and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then she went back to the bed she shared with Jondalar. When she got there, Jondalar was awake, propped up on one elbow.

'Why did you decide to come in early?'

'I couldn't seem to concentrate.' She smiled at him sensuously, and removed her clothes, then crawled in beside him. The place was still warm from her sleeping daughter. 'Do you remember that you once told me that anytime I wanted you, all I had to do was this?' she said as she gave him a long loving kiss.

He was quick to respond. 'It's still true,' he said, his voice gruff with his quickened desire. The nights had been long and lonely for him, too. Jonayla was cute and cuddly, and he loved her, but she was a little girl, and his mate's daughter, not his mate. Not the woman who aroused his passion and, until recently, had satisfied it so well.

He reached for her hungrily, kissing her mouth and her neck and then her body with starved ardour. She was equally hungry, equally ardent, and reached for his body in almost desperate need. He kissed her again, slowly, felt the inside of her mouth with his tongue, then her neck, and reached for her breast with his hand then took the nipple into his mouth. She felt delicious jolts of pleasure race through her. It had been a long time since they had taken the time to explore the Mother's Gift of Pleasure.

He suckled one nipple, then the other, and caressed her breasts. She felt sensations that reached deep inside in the place that ached for him. He placed a hand on her stomach and massaged it gently. There was a softness to it that he liked, a slight roundness that made her seem even more womanly, if that was possible. She felt as though she were melting into a pool of delight, as his hand reached for the soft fur of her mound and then put a finger at the top of her slit, and began to draw circles inside. When he reached the spot that sent bolts of shudders through her, she moaned and arched into them.

He went lower, found the entrance to her warm, wet cave and reached inside. She spread her legs to give him more access. He got up and moved between them, then lowered himself and tasted her. That was the taste he knew, the taste of Ayla that he loved. With both hands he spread her petals wide and licked her with his warm tongue, explored her clefts and crevices until he found the nodule that had hardened a little. She felt each movement as a delicious flash of fire as the desire inside her grew. She was no longer conscious of anything except Jondalar and the mounting surge of exquisite Pleasure he made her feel.

His manhood had swelled to its fullness and strove for release. Her breathing quickened, each breath coming with a groan, until suddenly she reached a peak, and felt herself well up and overflow. He felt her warm wetness, then pulled back and entered her welcoming depths and plunged in deeply. She was ready for him, and arched to take him in. As he felt his member slide into her warm and welcoming well, he groaned with the Pleasure. It had been so long, or so it seemed.

She took him all, and as he felt her encompassing warmth, he felt a sudden gratefulness that the Mother had led him to her, that he had found this woman. He had almost forgotten how perfectly they fit together. He revelled in her as he plunged in again, and then again. She gave herself up to him, rejoiced in the sensations he made her feel. Suddenly, almost too soon, they felt the Pleasure mounting. It surged up, until with a volcanic release, it engulfed them. They held it and then let go.

Afterward, they rested, but their ravenous craving for each other was not quite satisfied. They loved again, languorously, drawing out each touch, each caress, until they could no longer resist and finished with a second burst of eager energy. Ayla could see a faint crack of morning light through a carelessly secured covering when she settled into the warm furs beside Jondalar to sleep. She was more than satisfied — she felt luxuriously satiated.

She looked at Jondalar. His eyes were closed, a relaxed and blissful smile on his face. She closed her eyes. Why had she waited so long, she thought? She tried to think how long it had been. Suddenly her eyes flew open. Her herbs! When was the last time she took her herbs? She hadn't had to worry about them when she was nursing — she knew it was unlikely that she would get pregnant then — but Jonayla had been weaned for several years. Making a tea of her contraceptive herbs was usually a habit, but she hadn't been as careful lately. She had forgotten them a few times before but she was convinced no new life could begin without a man, and since she had been spending her nights on the cliff, she hadn't shared Pleasures with Jondalar as often, so she wasn't concerned.

As an Acolyte in training, her apprenticeship had been demanding, requiring periods of fasting, sleep deprivation, and other restrictions on her activities, including that she refrain from Pleasures for a period of time. For nearly a year, she had been staying awake at night to observe the movements of celestial objects. But her rigorous training was almost over. The year of studying the night sky would be finished soon, at the coming Summer Longday; then she would be considered for acceptance as a full Acolyte. She was already skilled in healing or it would have taken much longer, although she would never stop learning.

Anytime after that, she could become Zelandoni, though she wasn't sure how. She had to be 'called' to it, a mysterious process that no one could explain but which every Zelandoni had experienced. When an Acolyte claimed a 'calling', the potential Donier went through a probing interrogation by the other Zelandonia, who would then accept or reject the claim. If it was accepted, a place would be found for the new One To Serve The Mother, customarily as an assistant to an existing Zelandoni. If it was rejected, the Acolyte would stay an Acolyte, but an explanation was usually given so the next time a 'calling' was felt it would be better understood. Some acolytes never reached the position of Zelandoni, and were happy with that, but most wanted to be called.

Before she fell asleep, she mused about the Pleasures. She was the only one who was convinced that they started new life growing inside a woman. If she was pregnant, it was likely she would be too busy with a new baby to think about any 'calling'. Well, time will tell, what's done is done; there's no point in worrying about whether or not I'm pregnant now. And would it really be so bad to have another child? A baby might be rather nice, Ayla thought. She closed her eyes and relaxed again, then drifted off to a contented sleep.

It was one of the children who first noticed the smoking signal fire from the Third Cave, and pointed it out to his mother. She showed it to her neighbour and both started toward Joharran's dwelling. Before they reached it, several others had seen it as well. Proleva and Ayla were just coming out as the crowd arrived. They looked up, rather surprised.

'Smoke from Two Rivers Rock,' one said.

'Signal from the Third,' said another at the same time.

Joharran was right behind his mate. He walked to the edge of the stone ledge. 'They'll be sending a runner,' he said.

The runner arrived not long after, somewhat out of breath. 'Visitors!' he said. 'From the Twenty-fourth Cave of the Southern Zelandonii, including their primary Zelandoni. They are going to our Summer Meeting, but wanted to visit some Caves along the way.'

'They've come a long distance,' Joharran said. 'They will need a place to stay.'

'I'll go tell the First,' Ayla said. But I won't be going with everyone this year, she thought, as she started toward Zelandoni's dwelling. I have to wait for the Summer Longday. She felt a little sorry. I hope the visitors won't leave the Meeting too soon, but if they have come from very far, they might have to leave early to get back home before winter. That would be too bad.

'I'll check the large gathering area at the other end,' Proleva said. 'That will be a good place for them to stay, but they'll need water and firewood, at least. How many are there?'

'Perhaps as many as a small Cave,' the runner said.

That could be as many as thirty, or more, Ayla thought, mentally using the special techniques she had learned in her training to count larger numbers. Counting with fingers and hands was more complicated than the simple counting words, if one understood how to do it, but as with most things associated with the zelandonia, it was even more complex than that. It could mean something entirely different. All signs had more than just one meaning.

After she told the First, Ayla followed Proleva to the other end of the large overhanging ledge, bringing some additional wood. Acquiring and supplying fuel for fire was a chore that required constant attention and effort. Everyone, including children, gathered anything that would burn: wood, brush, grasses, the dry dung of grazing animals, and the fat of any animal they hunted, including the random carnivore. In order to live in cold environments, fire was indispensable for both heat and light, not to mention using it to cook food to make it easier to chew and more digestible. Although some fat was used in cooking, most often it was used for the fire that provided light. Maintaining fire was demanding, but it was essential to maintain the life of the two-legged tropical omnivores who had evolved in warmer climes and walked their way around the world.

'There you are, Ayla! I thought we'd give the visitors the place next to the spring-fed creek that separates the Ninth Cave from Down River, but I've been wondering about the horses. Their place is so close to the area the visitors would be using, do you think they should be moved?' Proleva said. 'The visitors might find it disconcerting to have horses so close.'

'I was thinking the same thing, not only because of the visitors. The horses would not be happy to have so many strangers close by. I think I'll move them to Wood Valley for now,' Ayla said.

'That would be a good place for them,' Proleva said.

After the visitors arrived, were introduced, settled into their temporary living space, and had eaten, the people broke into several groups. An assemblage of the zelandonia, which included the First and Ayla, the Zelandoni of the visitors plus her acolytes, the Zelandonia of the Third, the Fourteenth, and the Eleventh Caves, plus a few others walked back to the gathering space at the other end of the huge abri. A fire had been built and banked before the group of travellers left to eat, and was stoked up again by one of them, who put water into a large container and cooking stones into the fire. People brought out their personal drinking cups in anticipation of a fresh cup of hot tea, and conversations started or continued.

The visitors talked about their travels and they all exchanged ideas about rituals and medicine. When the First mentioned the contraceptive drink, there was great interest. Ayla told them what herbs to use, in some cases describing them carefully so there would be no confusion with similar plants. She talked a little about her long Journey from the land of the mammoth hunters, and they understood that she was a foreigner from a long distance. Her accent wasn't quite as strange to the visitors because they also spoke with an accent, although they thought it was the northern Zelandonii who did. Ayla thought their way of speaking was similar to, but not the same as, the way the people they had met on her Donier Tour spoke, and the way Kimeran's mate Beladora had said certain words.

When the evening was drawing to a close, the Zelandoni of the visitors said, 'I have been pleased to get better acquainted, Ayla. Word of you has travelled even to our region, and I think we are probably the most distant Cave who still call themselves the Children of Doni. And who recognise the First Among Those Who Serve The Mother,' she added, addressing the large woman.

'I suspect that you are counted as First among your group of Southern Zelandonii. I am too far away.'

'Perhaps I am, in our local territory, but we still acknowledge this region as our original homeland, and you as the First. It is in our histories, our legends, our teachings. That's one reason we wanted to come, to re-establish our ties.'

And to decide if you wanted to keep them, the First thought. She had noticed some facial expressions among some of the visitors that were, if not disdainful, then at least doubtful, and had overheard some quiet conversation in what was probably a local southern dialect questioning some of the northern zelandonia ways, especially from one young man. He very likely believed that no one there could understand the variation of Zelandonii they were speaking — few people they had met did — but the First had travelled quite a bit in her younger years, and more recently with Ayla, and she had welcomed many visitors from distant places. She was fairly adept at picking up languages, especially variations of Zelandonii. She glanced at Ayla, whom she knew had an almost uncanny knack for language, and could grasp even a strange one more quickly than anyone she knew.

Ayla caught the glance from her mentor, and the flick of her eyes toward the young man, and nodded slightly in an unobtrusive way, letting her know that she had also understood him. They would discuss it later.

'And I am pleased to know you,' Ayla said. 'Perhaps someday we can visit you.'

'You would be welcome, both of you,' the Zelandoni said, looking at the First.

The big woman smiled, but wondered how much longer she'd be able to make Journeys, especially long ones, and doubted that she would be the one to make a return visit. 'You have brought some interesting new ideas that I am pleased to learn about, and I thank you for them,' the large woman said.

'I have been very pleased to learn of your medicines,' Ayla added.

'I have learned much, as well. I am especially grateful to know about the way to dissuade the Mother from Blessing a woman. There are those women who just should not bear another child, for her health and the sake of her family,' the Zelandoni said.

'It was Ayla who brought that knowledge,' the First admitted.

'Then I have something I would like to give to her in return, and to you, First Among Those Who Serve The Mother. I have a mixture that has some remarkable qualities. I think I will leave it with you to try out,' the Southern Twenty-fourth said. 'I hadn't planned to, I have only one pouch of it with me, but I can make up more when I get back.'

She opened her travelling pack, took out her distinctive medicine box and removed a small pouch from it. She held it out, 'I think you will find this quite interesting and perhaps useful.' The First indicated that she should give it to Ayla. 'It's very powerful. Be careful when you experiment with it,' she said as she handed it to the younger woman.

'Do you prepare it as a decoction or infusion?' Ayla asked.

'It depends what you want,' the woman said. 'Each preparation gives it different properties. Later I'll show you what's in it, though I suspect you may have worked it out yourself by then.'

Ayla couldn't wait to find out what was in it. She examined the pouch. It was made of soft leather and tied with a cord that she thought was made from the long hairs of the tail of a horse. She undid some interesting knots in the cord, which had been threaded through holes cut around the top of the soft leather pouch, and opened it. 'One ingredient is certain,' she said as she sniffed the contents. 'Mint!' The scent also reminded her of the strong tea they had tried when they were visiting one of the Southern Zelandonii. Ayla retied it with her own knots.

The woman smiled. Mint was the scent she used to distinguish this particular mixture, but it was far more powerful than that innocuous herb. She hoped she would still be here when someone began to experiment with it. That would be a test of the skill and knowledge of the northern zelandonia, she thought.

Ayla smiled at Zelandoni. 'I may have another one on the way.' They had been talking about children, though it was the First who had brought it up, she realised.

'I wondered about that. You didn't look like you were getting fat, like me — I doubt that you ever will — but you seem to be filling out in places. How many moontimes have you missed?'

'Just one. My moontime was due a few days ago. And though I'm not really getting sick, I feel a little nauseous in the morning sometimes,' Ayla said.

'If I were to make a guess, I'd say you are going to have another baby. Are you happy about it?' Zelandoni asked.

'Oh, yes. I want another, although I hardly have time to take care of the one I have. I'm just glad Jondalar is so good with Jonayla.'

'Have you told him yet?'

'No. It's too soon, I think. You never know — things can happen. I know he would like another child at his hearth. I wouldn't want him to get excited only to be disappointed. And it's a long enough wait even after you start showing — no reason to make him wait so long.' Ayla thought about the night she came down from the cliff early, and how good it had been for both of them. Then she recalled the first time she had shared Pleasures with Jondalar. She laughed quietly, to herself.

'What's funny?' Zelandoni asked.

'I was just thinking about the first time Jondalar showed me the Gift of Pleasure, back in my valley. Until then, I didn't know it was supposed to be a Pleasure, or even that it could be. I could hardly communicate with him then. He had been teaching me to speak Zelandonii, but so much of his language, and most of his ways, were completely strange to me. As a mother was supposed to, Iza had explained how a woman of the Clan uses a certain signal to encourage a man, though I don't think she thought I'd ever really need it.

'I'd been making the signal to Jondalar, but it didn't mean anything to him. Later he showed me Pleasures again, because he wanted to, not because I did, and I kept thinking he would never understand my signals, when I wanted him again. I finally asked to speak to him the way the women of the Clan do. He didn't understand what I wanted when I sat down in front of him and bowed my head, waiting for him to tell me I could speak. Finally I just tried to tell him. When he understood the gist of it, he thought I wanted him to do it right away, and we had just finished. He said something like he didn't know if he could, but he would try. As it turned out, he didn't have any problem,' Ayla said, smiling at her own innocence.

Zelandoni smiled, too. 'He always was an obliging fellow,' she said.

'I loved him the first time I saw him, before I even knew him, but he was so good to me, Zelandoni, especially when he showed me the Mother's Gift of Pleasures. I asked him once how he could know things about me that I didn't know about myself. He finally admitted that someone had taught him, an older woman, but I could tell he was greatly troubled. He really loved you, you know,' Ayla said. 'He still does, in his way.'

'I loved him, too, and I still do, in my way. But I don't think he ever loved me the way he loves you.'

'But I've been gone so much, especially at night. I'm surprised that I'm pregnant.'

'Maybe you are wrong about his essence mixing with yours inside you, Ayla. Maybe new life is started by the Great Mother choosing a man's spirit and blending it with yours,' Zelandoni said, with a wry smile.

'No. I think I know when this one was started,' Ayla smiled. 'I came home early one night. I just couldn't concentrate, and I forgot to make my special tea. Now, I'm starting to love rain, especially at night, when I have to come in because I can't see anything anyway. I'll be glad when this watching year is over.' The young woman studied her mentor, then asked the question she had wanted to ask. 'You said you had thought about mating. Why didn't you?'

'Yes, I almost did mate once, but he was killed in a hunting accident. After he died, I buried myself in the training. No one else ever made me want to mate … except Jondalar. There was a time when I did consider him — he was so insistent, and he can be very persuasive — but you know it was forbidden. I was his doni-woman and, besides, he was so young. We would probably have had to move away from the Ninth Cave, and it might have been hard to find a place. I felt that it would be unfair to him; his family has always been important to him. It was hard enough for him to go to live with Dalanar,' the Donier said. 'And I didn't want to leave, either. Did you know I was selected for the zelandonia and started my training before I was a woman? I'm not sure when I finally realised that the zelandonia was more important to me than mating. And it's just as well. I have never been Blessed by Doni, I'm afraid I would have been a childless mate.'

'I know the Second had children, but I don't think I have ever seen a zelandoni who was pregnant,' Ayla said.

'Some become pregnant,' Zelandoni said. 'They usually arrange to lose it in the first few moons, before they get very big. Some will carry a child full term, then give it to another woman to raise, often a barren woman who desperately wants a child. The mated ones usually keep the child, but few Zelandonia women are mated. It's easier for the men. They can leave most of the child care to their mates. You know how difficult it can be. The demands of a mated woman, especially if she becomes a mother, often conflict with the needs of the zelandonia.'

'Yes, I know,' Ayla said.

All the people of the Ninth Cave were in a state of excited anticipation. They would be leaving for the Summer Meeting the next day and everyone was busily packing in the final rush of getting ready to leave. Ayla was helping Jondalar and Jonayla pack, deciding what to leave behind, what to take, and where to pack it, partly because she wanted to spend more time with them. Marthona was with them, too. This was the first time that she would not be going with her Cave to a Summer Meeting; she couldn't walk very far anymore. She wanted to be around when they packed so she wouldn't feel entirely left out. Ayla wished she didn't have to stay back from the Meeting, but she was worried about Marthona and was glad she would be there to look after her.

Her mind was as alert as ever, but the woman's health was failing, and she was so crippled with arthritis, sometimes she could hardly walk or even work on her loom. I can go later, after the Summer Longday, Ayla thought. She loved the woman as both a friend and a mother, and enjoyed her thoughtful wisdom and not-always-so-gentle wit. It would be a good opportunity to spend more time with her. Ayla thought of it as compensation for missing the Summer Meeting, even part of it. She resolved to find ways to be with her family more often when they got back, but if she didn't finish her project of marking the moon and sun this year, she would have to start all over again another year, and she had only until a little past the Summer Longday to go. She had returned early last year to start on the project.

The most difficult time to make a record had been during the winter. Some days it was so stormy it was impossible to see the sun or the moon, but it had been clear during the Winter Shortday and both the Fall Sameday and the Spring Sameday, which was a good sign. Zelandoni had helped her with the Fall Sameday. They had both stayed awake more than a day and night, using special wicks in a sacred lamp to determine that sunup to sundown was the same length as the following sundown to sunup. Ayla had done it the following Spring Sameday, with Zelandoni overseeing her. Since she had been fortunate enough to see the most important moments during the cold seasons, she didn't want to give it up now.

'Sometimes I wish we didn't have the horses and their pole-drags,' Jondalar said. 'It would actually be easier if all we had to worry about was what we could carry on our backs. Then we wouldn't have all our friends and relatives asking if we could just take a few things. All those few things can make a big load.'

'You won't have Whinney this year, so you have to tell people that you don't have as much room,' Ayla said.

'I have told them, but all they can see is the "little" space their things would take, and surely with two horses, there must be enough room,' Jondalar said.

'Just tell them no, Jonde,' Jonayla said. 'That's what I tell anyone who asks me.'

'That's a good idea, Jonayla,' said Marthona, 'but didn't you ask to pack some things for Sethona?'

'But, grandam, she's my close cousin, and my best friend,' Jonayla said, sounding a little indignant.

'Everyone in the Ninth Cave has become my "best friend" or would like to think so,' Jondalar said, 'It's not so easy saying no. Sometimes I may want to ask a favour of someone, but what he'll remember is that I said no when all he wanted was to have a few of his things carried by one of the horses.'

'If the things aren't all that much, why can't they carry them themselves?' Jonayla asked.

'That's just the point. They're not always so little. It's usually the bulky and the heavy things they want carried, things they probably wouldn't even take if they had to carry them by themselves,' Jondalar said.

The next morning, Ayla accompanied the Ninth Cave part of the way, riding Whinney. 'When do you think you'll be able to join us?' Jondalar asked.

'Sometime after the Summer Longday, but I'm not sure how long,' Ayla said. 'I am a little worried about Marthona. It may depend on how she feels, and who has come back to help her. When do you think Willamar will return?'

'It depends on where people have decided to hold their Summer Meetings. He hasn't made many long trips since your Donier Tour but he planned a longer than usual trip this year. He said he wanted to visit as many people as he could, both outlying Zelandonii and others. Several people went with him, and he was going to pick up a few more from other Caves along the way. This may be his last long trading circuit,' Jondalar said.

'I thought that's what he said when he came along on my Donier Tour,' Ayla said.

'He's been saying that every year for some time.'

'I think he's finally going to name a new Trade Master, and he can't decide which one of his apprentices to choose. He's going to be observing them on this trip,' Jondalar said.

'I think he should name both of them.'

'I'll try to come back for a visit, but I'm going to be busy. I need to make arrangements to enlarge our place so Marthona and Willamar can move in with us in the fall.'

Ayla turned to her daughter, and they embraced. 'Be good, Jonayla. Mind Jondalar, and help Proleva,' she said.

'I will, mother. I wish you were coming with us.'

'I wish I was, too, Jonayla. I'm going to miss you,' Ayla said.

She and Jondalar kissed, and she clung to him for a moment. 'I'll miss you, too, Jondalar. I will even miss Racer and Grey.' She gave each horse farewell strokes and a hug around the neck, 'and I'm sure Whinney will, and Wolf, too.'

Jonayla patted Whinney and scratched a favourite place, then bent down and gave Wolf a big hug. The animal wriggled with pleasure, and licked her face. 'Can't we take Wolf with us, mother? I'm going to miss him so much,' Jonayla asked, trying one last time.

'Then I would miss him, Jonayla. No, I think it's best if he stays here. You'll see him later in the summer,' Ayla said.

Jondalar picked up Jonayla and put her on Grey. She could count six years now, and could mount the horse herself, if there was a stone or a stump nearby, but she still needed help out in the open. Jondalar mounted Racer, and taking Grey's lead rope, they quickly caught up with the rest. Ayla could not stop the tears as she stood with Whinney and Wolf watching Jondalar and Jonayla riding away from her.

Finally Ayla leapt up on the back of her dun-yellow mare. She rode partway back toward home, then stopped and turned to look again at the departing Ninth Cave again. They were moving along at a steady pace, strung out in a ragged line. At the rear she saw Jonayla and Jondalar on their horses, pulling the pole-drags.

The Summer Meeting was being held at the same place it had been held when Ayla first came. She had liked that location and hoped that Joharran would select the same site that the Ninth Cave had used for their camp when they were there before, if no one else had taken it. Joharran had always liked being in the thick of things, and the campsite was somewhat away from the major activities, but in the past few years, he had begun to select campsites that were closer to the edge so the horses wouldn't be surrounded by people. And he was learning to like having the space to spread out. If he chose the old campsite, there was plenty of room for their much larger than usual Cave to spread out, and a good place for the horses as well. And she could close her eyes and imagine them there. Ayla watched the people leaving for some time, then turned Whinney, signalled Wolf, and went back to the Ninth Cave.

Ayla hadn't known how lonely the huge abri could be with so many people gone, even though some people from the nearby caves had come to stay there. Most of the dwellings were closed up, and the abri had a deserted look. Tools and equipment from the large work area had been dismantled and taken along or put away, leaving empty spaces. Marthona's loom was one of the few remaining pieces of apparatus.

Ayla had asked Marthona to move in with them. She wanted to be nearby if Jondalar's mother needed help, especially at night, and the woman was quick to agree. Since she and Willamar were already planning to move in with them in the fall, it gave Marthona a chance to select which things she wanted to keep and which to give away; she couldn't move them all over to the smaller accommodations. They talked long together, and Marthona discovered a reason for happiness when she learned that Ayla was pregnant again.

Most of the people left behind were old or incapacitated in some way. Among them was a hunter with a broken leg, another recovering from a goring he suffered at the horns of an aurochs bull that had turned on him suddenly, and a pregnant woman who had already miscarried three times and been told that she had to stay off her feet if she ever expected to carry a baby full term. Her mother and her mate were staying with her.

'I am glad you are going to be here this summer, Ayla,' Jeviva, the pregnant woman's mother, said. 'Jeralda held her last one almost six moons, until Madroman came around. He told her to exercise. I think the reason she lost it was his fault. At least you know something about pregnancy — you've had a child of your own.'

Ayla looked at Marthona, wondering if she knew anything about Madroman treating Jeralda. She hadn't heard anything. He had moved back to the Ninth Cave last year and brought many of his things with him as if he planned to stay for a while; then just a moon or so ago, he left abruptly. A runner from another Cave had come to ask Ayla for help for someone who had broken his arm; her skill with fixing bones had spread wide. She stayed several days and when she returned, Madroman was gone.

'How far along is Jeralda now?' Ayla asked.

'Her moontimes were not regular and she was spotting blood so we weren't paying much attention and aren't sure when this life started. I think she's bigger than she was when she lost the last one, but maybe I'm just wishing,' Jeviva said.

'I'll come by tomorrow and examine her, and see what I can find out, though I don't know if I'll be able to tell much. Did Zelandoni say anything about why she lost her first three?' Ayla asked.

'All she said is that Jeralda has a slippery womb and tends to drop them too easily. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with the last one, except that he was born too soon. He was alive when he was born and lived a day or so, then just stopped breathing.' The woman turned her head aside and wiped away a tear.

Jeralda put her arm around her mother, and then her mate held her and her mother for a moment. Ayla watched the small family as they joined together in their remembered grief. She hoped this pregnancy would turn out to be more successful.

Joharran had designated two men to stay behind to hunt for the people left at the Ninth Cave and generally to help out where they could; they would be replaced in a moon or so. There was also one hunter who had volunteered to stay, Jonfilar, the mate of the pregnant woman who was having difficulties. The others had been unlucky enough to lose at the competitive games the leader had arranged to decide who had to remain behind. The older one was called Lorigan, and the younger, Forason. They had grumbled about it but since they would not have to take a turn in the competition the next year, they accepted their fate.

Ayla often joined the men on their hunts and enjoyed it, and just as often went out on her own with Whinney and Wolf. She hadn't hunted for some time, but she hadn't lost her skills. Forason, who was quite young, wasn't sure of the hunting ability of the Donier's Acolyte in the beginning, and thought she'd get in the way, especially since she insisted on bringing the wolf. Lorigan only smiled. By the end of the first day, the young man was overwhelmed at her prowess with both spear-thrower and sling, and surprised at how well the animal worked with them. When they were returning, the older man explained to the youngster that it was she and Jondalar who had developed the spear-thrower and brought it with them when they returned from their Journey. Forason had the good sense to be embarrassed.

But, for the most part, Ayla stayed near the large abri. Those who were there usually shared their evening meal together. It tended to make the emptiness of the large area seem less when they were all together around one fire. The aged and infirm were overjoyed to have a real healer there to care for them. It gave them an unaccustomed sense of security. Most summers, instructions were left with those who were more fit or with the hunters. At most, there might be an Acolyte who was staying behind for a similar reason that Ayla was, but generally not one so skilled.

Ayla fell into a routine. She slept late in the morning; then in the afternoon she visited with each person, listened to their complaints, gave them medicines or made poultices, or did whatever she could to make them feel better. It helped make the time pass for her. They all became closer, exchanged stories of their lives, or told stories they had heard. Ayla practised telling the Elder Legends and the Histories she was learning, and told incidents from her early life, both of which people loved hearing. She still spoke with her unusual accent, but they were so accustomed to it, they didn't really hear it any more, except that it tended to give her an appealing sense of the mysterious and exotic. They had fully accepted her as one of them, but they loved to tell stories about her to others because she was so unusual, and by association it made them feel special.

As they sat together in the warm sun of the late afternoon, Ayla's stories were in particular demand. She had led such an interesting life, and they never seemed to tire of asking her questions about the Clan or of asking her to show them how they would say certain words, or concepts. They also loved to hear the familiar songs and stories they had grown up with. Many of the older people knew some of the legends as well as she, and were quick to point out any mistakes, but since several of the older ones came from other Caves, and each often had their own versions, there would be discussions or sometimes arguments about which interpretation was more correct. Ayla didn't mind. She was interested in the various renderings, and the discussions helped her to remember even better. It was a quiet, slow-paced time. The ones who were able often went out and gathered the fruits, vegetables, nuts, and seeds in season, to supplement their meals and to store for the winter.

Just before sunset each evening, Ayla climbed to the top of the cliff with the flat palmate sections of antler she had been marking. She had got in the habit of leaving Wolf with Marthona at night, showing her how to send Wolf to get her if she needed help. Ayla watched as the sun continued its almost imperceptible movement, setting just a little farther toward the right on the western horizon each night.

Until Zelandoni had set her to the task, she hadn't really paid that much attention to those kinds of celestial movements before. She had only noticed that the sun rose somewhere in the east and set in the west, and that the moon went through phases from full to dark and back to full again. Like most people, she was aware that the nighttime orb was in the sky during the day occasionally, and though people noticed it, they didn't often pay attention because it was so pale. There was a particular colour, however, a shade of nearly transparent white, hardly more than a wash of water with a little white kaolin from a nearby deposit that was called 'pale', after the pale moon of day.

Now, she knew much more. That was why she was watching the place on the horizon where the sun rose and set, the placement of certain constellations and stars, and the different timings of the risings and settings of the moon. It was a full moon, and while it wasn't rare to have a full moon during the Winter Shortday or the Summer Longday, it was not especially common either. One of the events coincided with the full moon perhaps once every ten years, but since the full moon was always opposite the sun, it always rose at the same time that the sun set, and because the sun was high in the sky in summer, the full moon stayed low in the sky all night. She sat facing south and turning her head right and left to try to keep track of both of them.

The first night that the sun seemed to set in the same place that it had the night before, she wasn't sure if she had seen it right. Was it far enough to the right on the horizon? Had the correct number of days passed? Was the time right, she wondered? She noted certain constellations, and the moon, and decided she'd wait until the next night. When the sun set at the same place again, she was so excited, she wished Zelandoni were with her so she could share it.