The Mammoth Hunters

32

Ayla was alone in the tent. She glanced over the area that would be her place for the duration of their stay, trying to find one more article to fold, one more object to arrange, one more reason to delay leaving the confines of Cattail Camp. As soon as she was ready, Mamut had told her, he wanted to take her to meet the people with whom she was associated with in a unique way, the mamuti, those who belonged to the Mammoth Hearth.

She looked upon the meeting as an ordeal, certain they would want to question her, evaluate her, and judge whether she had a right to be included within their ranks. In her heart, she didn't believe she did. She didn't feel possessed of unique talents and special gifts. She was a Healer because she had learned the skills and knowledge of a medicine woman from Iza. There was no great magic in having the animals, either. The mare answered to her because, when she was alone, and lonely, in her valley, she had taken in a motherless foal for company, and Racer was born there. She saved Wolf because she owed it to his mother, and she knew by then that animals raised around people would be friendly. It wasn't a big mystery.

Rydag had stayed inside the tent with her for a while, after she examined him, asked him some specific questions about how he felt, and made a mental note to adjust his medicine. Then he went out and sat with Wolf to watch the people. Nezzie had agreed with her that he seemed in a much better mood. The woman was full of self-righteous delight, and praise for Frebec, who had heard and overheard so many words of praise he was almost embarrassed. Ayla had never seen him smile so much, and knew that part of his happiness was the sense of acceptance and belonging. She understood the feeling.

Ayla looked around one last time, picked up a rawhide container and attached it to her belt, then sighed and walked outside. Everyone seemed to be gone except Mamut, who was talking to Rydag. Wolf saw her and raised his head as she approached, which caused Rydag and Mamut to look also.

"Is everyone gone? Maybe I should stay here and watch Rydag until someone comes back," she said, quick to volunteer.

"Wolf watch me," Rydag signed, with a grin. "No one stay long when see Wolf. I tell Nezzie go. You go, Ayla."

"He's right. Wolf seems content to stay here with Rydag, and I can't think of a better guardian," Mamut said.

"What if he gets sick?" Ayla said.

"I get sick, I tell Wolf, 'get Ayla.'" Rydag made the signal they had worked out before in practice and play. Wolf jumped up, put his paws on Ayla's chest, and reached up to lick her jaw, eager to get her attention.

She smiled, ruffed up his neck, then signaled him down.

"I want stay here, Ayla. I like watching. River. Horses in meadow. People walk by." Rydag grinned. "Not always see me, stare at tent, stare at horse place. Then see Wolf. Funny people."

Mamut and Ayla both smiled at his simple delight in seeing the surprised reactions of people.

"Well, I suppose it will be all right. Nezzie wouldn't have left him if she didn't think he would be safe," Ayla said, conceding her last internal argument against leaving. "I'm ready to go, Mamut."

As they walked together toward the permanent lodges of Wolf Camp, Ayla noticed a denser concentration of tents and Camps, and many more people milling around between them. She was glad they were on the outside edge, where she could look out and see trees and grass, and the river and meadow. Several people nodded or spoke to them as they passed. Ayla watched Mamut, noting how he acknowledged their greetings, and responded the same way.

One lodge at the end of the somewhat uneven row of six seemed to be the focal point of activities. Ayla noticed a cleared area with no household Camps near the dwelling, and realized it must be the place where people gathered. The Camps that were immediately adjacent to the clearing did not have the look of usual household areas. One of them had a fence made of openly spaced mammoth bones, branches and dried brush marking the territorial boundaries. As they passed it, Ayla heard her name called. She stopped, surprised at who had called her from the other side of the fence.

"Latie!" she said, then recalled what Deegie had told her. As long as Latie was still at the lodge of the Lion Camp, the restriction on her association with males did not limit her movements or activities too much. However, once they reached the Meeting place, it was necessary that she be kept in seclusion. Several other young women were with her, all smiling and giggling. She was introduced to Latie's age mates, who seemed to be somewhat in awe of her.

"Where are you going, Ayla?"

"To the Mammoth Hearth," Mamut answered for her.

Latie nodded as though she should have known. Ayla noticed Tulie in the enclosed yard area around a tent which was decorated with painted designs in red ochre, talking to several other women. She waved and smiled.

"Latie, look! A red-foot!" one of her friends said, in hushed tones of excitement. Everyone stopped to stare, and the young women giggled. Ayla found herself looking with great interest at the woman who sauntered past, noticing as she walked that the bottoms of her bare feet were a rich bright red. She had been told about them, but this was the first one she had seen. She seemed to be a perfectly ordinary woman, Ayla thought. Yet, there was a quality to her that made one look twice.

The woman approached a knot of young men, whom Ayla hadn't seen before, loitering near a stand of small trees across the clearing. Ayla thought her walk became more exaggerated as she neared them, her smile more languorous, and she suddenly noticed her red feet more. The woman stopped to talk to the young men, and her liquid laugh floated across the empty space. As she and the old man walked away, Ayla remembered the conversation the women, and Mamut, had had the evening before the Spring Festival.

All the young females who were in the transitional state of not-yet-women were under constant surveillance – but not only by the chaperons. Ayla noticed, now, several groups of young men standing around the fringes of the prohibited area where Latie and her age mates were staying, hoping to catch a glimpse of the forbidden, and therefore all the more desirable, young women. At no time in her life was a woman the object of greater interest by the male population. The young women enjoyed their unique status and the special attention it brought, and were just as interested in the other gender, though they disdained to show it openly. They spent most of their time peeking out of the tent or around the fence, speculating about the various males, who paraded and lounged around the periphery with exaggerated casualness.

Though the young men who watched, and were watched in return, might eventually form a hearth with those just now becoming women, they were not the ones likely to be chosen for the first, important initiation. The young women and the older female advisers who shared their tent discussed several possibilities from among the older and more experienced men. Those being considered were usually approached privately before the eventual selection was made.

The day before the ceremony, the young women who were staying together in one tent – occasionally there were too many for one tent and two Camps of young women would be established – would go out as a group. When they found a man with whom they wanted to spend the night, they would surround and "capture" him. The men thus captured were required to go along with the initiates – few men objected to the requirement. That night, after some preliminary rituals, they would all go together into the darkened tent, grope to find each other, and spend the night exploring the differences and learning the Pleasures of each other. Neither the young women nor the men were supposed to know with whom they eventually coupled, though in actual practice, they usually did. The watching older women made sure there was no undue roughness, and were available on the rare occasion that advice was necessary. If, for some reason, any of the young women were not opened, it could be accommodated in a quiet second night's ritual without overtly placing blame on anyone in particular.

Neither Danug nor Druwez would be invited to Latie's tent, primarily because they were too closely related, but also because they were too young. Other women who had celebrated their First Rites in previous years, particularly those who had no children yet, could choose to stand in for the Great Mother and teach Her way to young men. After a special ceremony, which honored them and set them apart for the season, the soles of the feet of these women would be stained with a deep red dye that would not wash off, though eventually it would wear off, to signify that they were available to help young men gain experience. Many also wore red leather bands tied around their upper arms, ankles, or waists.

Though some teasing was inevitable, the women appreciated the underlying seriousness of their task. Understanding his natural shyness, and the driving urge behind his eagerness, they treated each young man with consideration, teaching him to know a woman tenderly, so that someday he might be chosen to make a woman, so that someday she might make a child. And to show them how pleased She was with this offering of themselves, Mut blessed many of these women. Even those who had been joined for some time, and had never borne life in their wombs, were often pregnant by the end of the season.

Next to the not-yet-women, the red-footed women were the most sought after by all ages of men. For the rest of his years, nothing could so quickly stimulate a man of the Mamutoi as the flash of a red foot when a woman walked by, and knowing it, some women tinged their feet reddish to make themselves more attractive. Though a woman who had made such a dedication of herself was free to choose any man, her service was for the younger ones and any older man who managed to convince her to share his company felt himself favored.

Mamut directed Ayla toward a Camp that was not far from the Rites of Womanhood Camp. At first glance it seemed to be an ordinary tent within a household Camp. The difference, she noticed, was that everyone was tattooed. Some, like old Mamut, just had a simple dark blue chevron pattern high on the right cheekbone, three or four broken lines, like the lower parts of downward-pointing triangles, stacked up, one nestled within the other. They reminded her of the lower jawbones of mammoths that had been used to construct Vincavec's lodge. The tattoos of others, particularly the men, Ayla noticed, were much more elaborate. The patterns incorporated not only chevrons but triangles, zigzags, rhomboids, and right-angled spirals, in both blue and red.

Ayla was glad they had stopped off at Mammoth Camp before coming to the Meeting. She knew she would have been startled by their decorated faces, if she had not already met Vincavec. As fascinating and complex as the tattoos on the faces of these people were, none was as intricate as his.

The next difference she noticed was that although there seemed to be a preponderance of women at this Camp, there were no children. They had obviously been left in someone's care at the household Camps. Ayla quickly understood that this was not considered to be a place for children. This was a place for adults to gather, for serious meetings, discussions, and rituals – and gaming. Several people were playing games with marked bones, sticks, and pieces of ivory in the outdoor area of the Camp.

Mamut walked up to the entrance of the tent, which was open, and scratched on the leather. Ayla looked into the dim interior over his shoulder, trying not to appear conspicuous to those lounging around outside, but they, too, were trying, without seeming too eager, to get a closer look at her. They were curious about the young woman, whom old Mamut had not just accepted into training but adopted as a daughter. She was a stranger, it was said, not even Mamutoi. No one even knew where she came from.

Many of them had made a point of walking past Cattail Camp to see the horses and the wolf, and they were surprised and impressed to see the animals, though they did not want to show it. How could anyone control a stallion? Or make a mare stand quietly with so many people – and a wolf – around? Why was the wolf so docile with the people of Lion Camp? He behaved like a normal wolf around everyone else. No one else could get near him, or even within the boundaries of their Camp without an invitation and, it was said, he had attacked Chaleg.

The old man motioned Ayla inside, and they both sat down near a large fireplace, though only a small flame burned within it, off to one side, near the woman who sat across. She was a heavy woman. Ayla had never seen anyone quite so fat and wondered how she could have walked any distance to get there.

"I have brought my daughter to meet you, Lomie," the old Mamut said.

"I wondered when you were coming," she replied.

Then, before she said anything else, she moved a red-hot stone from the fire with sticks. She opened up a packet of leaves and dropped a few on the stone and leaned closer to breathe in the smoke that curled up. Ayla smelled sage, and less pronounced, mullein and lobelia. She watched the woman closely, noted a heaviness of breathing, which was soon relieved, and realized she suffered a chronic cough, probably asthma.

"Do you make a cough syrup from the root of mullein, too?" Ayla asked her. "It can help." She had been reluctant to speak up at first, and wasn't sure why she did without having been introduced, but she wanted to help, and somehow it felt like the right thing to do.

Lomie's head jerked up, startled, and she looked at the young blond woman with new interest. The hint of a smile glanced across Mamut's face.

"She is a Healer, too?" Lomie said to Mamut.

"I believe there is none better, not even you, Lomie."

Lomie knew it was not said lightly. Old Mamut had great respect for her skill. "And here I thought you had only adopted a pretty young woman to ease your last years, Mamut."

"Ah, but I did, Lomie. She has eased my winter arthritis, and other assorted aches and pains," he said.

"I'm glad to know there is more to her than can be seen. She is young for it, though."

"There is more to her than you know, Lomie, in spite of her youth."

Lomie turned then. "You are Ayla."

"Yes, I am Ayla of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, daughter of the Mammoth Hearth… and protected by the Cave Lion," Ayla finished, as Mamut had instructed her.

"Ayla of the Mamutoi. Hmmm. It has an unusual sound, but then so does your voice. Not unpleasant, though. Stands out. Makes people notice you. I am Lomie, Mamut of the Wolf Camp and Healer of the Mamutoi."

"First Healer," Mamut corrected.

"How can I be First Healer, old Mamut, if she is my equal?"

"I did not say Ayla was your equal, Lomie. I said there is none better. Her background is… unusual. She was trained by… someone with a great depth of knowledge in certain Healing ways. Could you have identified the subtle smell of mullein, masked by the heavy aroma of sage, so quickly if you hadn't known it was there? And then known what you were treating yourself for?"

Lomie started to speak, then hesitated, and did not respond. Mamut continued, "I think she would have known just by looking at you. She has a rare gift for knowing, and an amazing knowledge of remedies and treatments, but she lacks skill in just those ways that you are most proficient, finding and relieving the problem that creates the illness, and helping someone want to get well. She could learn much from you, and I hope you will consent to train her, but I think there is much you could learn from her as well."

Lomie turned to Ayla. "And is that what you want?"

"It is what I want."

"If you know so much already, what do you think you can learn from me?"

"I am a medicine woman. It is… who I am… my life. I could not be otherwise. I was trained by one who was… First, but from the beginning she taught me there is always more to learn. I would be grateful to learn from you," Ayla said. Her sincerity was not feigned. She was hungry to talk to someone with whom she could share ideas and discuss treatments, and learn.

Lomie paused. Medicine woman? Where had she heard that name for Healer before? She put the thought aside for the moment. It would come to her.

"Ayla has a gift for you," Mamut said. "Call in anyone you want, but then, if you will, close the flap."

Everyone who was outside had either come in while they were talking, or was standing at the entrance. They all crowded in. No one wanted to miss anything. When everyone was settled and the entrance flap closed and tied, Mamut picked up a handful of dirt from a drawing circle and put out the small flame, but the bright daylight could not be kept out entirely. It beamed in through the smoke hole, and dimly, through the hide walls. It would not be quite as dramatic a demonstration in the dimly lit tent as it had been within the dark earthlodge, but every one of the mamuti would recognize its possibilities.

Ayla untied the small carrying container from her waistband, one she and Mamut had asked Barzec to make, and withdrew tinder, firestone, and flint. After everything was ready, Ayla paused, and for the first time in many moon cycles, sent a silent thought to her totem. It wasn't a specific request, but she thought about a big, impressive, fast lighting spark, so the effect would be what Mamut wanted. Then she picked up the flint and struck it sharply against the iron pyrite. It flashed brightly, even in the tent, then went out. She struck again, and this time it took, and soon the small fire in the fireplace was burning again.

The mamuti were wise in the ways of artifice and accustomed to creating effects. They prided themselves on being able to recognize how they were accomplished. Little surprised them, but Ayla's fire trick left them without words.

"The magic is in the firestone itself," old Mamut said, as Ayla put the materials back in the rawhide container, and gave it to Lomie. Then the tone and quality of his voice changed. "But the way to draw the fire out of it was shown to Ayla. I did not need to adopt her, Lomie. She was born to the Mammoth Hearth, chosen by the Mother. She can only follow her destiny, but now I know that I was chosen to be part of it, and why I was given so many years."

His words sent a thrill of shivers and raised hairs through everyone in the tent of the Mammoth Hearth. He had touched upon the real mystery, the deeper calling that each one of them felt in some measure beyond the superficial trappings and casual cynicism. Old Mamut was a phenomenon. His very existence was magical. No one had ever lived so long. His name was even lost in the passage of years. They were each a Mamut, shaman of their Camps, but he was simply Mamut, his name and calling had become one. No one there doubted that there was some purpose for his many years. If he said Ayla was the reason, then she was touched by the deep and unexplainable mysteries of life and the world around them, which each of them felt called upon to struggle with.

Ayla was preoccupied when she and Mamut left the tent. She, too, had felt tension, a stirring of gooseflesh when old Mamut spoke of her destiny, but she didn't want to be the object of such intense interest by powers beyond her control. It was frightening, all this talk of destiny. She wasn't any different from anyone else, and she didn't want to be. She didn't like it when her speech was commented upon, either. At Lion Camp no one noticed any more. She had forgotten that there were some words she just couldn't get right, no matter how hard she tried.

"Ayla! There you are. I was looking for you."

She looked up at the sparkling dark eyes and wide flashing smile of the dark-skinned man to whom she was Promised. She smiled back. He was just the one she needed to take her mind off her troubling thoughts. She turned to Mamut to see if he still wanted her. He smiled and told her to go and have a look around the encampment with Ranec.

"I want you to meet some carvers. Some of them are doing fine work." Ranec said, leading her with an arm around her waist. "We always have a Camp near the Mammoth Hearth. Not just carvers, other artists, too."

He was excited, and Ayla sensed the same exhilaration she felt when she realized Lomie was a Healer. Even though there might be some competition in relation to ability and the status each was accorded, no one understood the nuances of a craft or skill like another person who practiced it. Only with another Healer could she discuss the relative merits of mullein versus wintergreen in the treatment of coughs, for example, and she had missed those kinds of discussions. She had seen how Jondalar, Wymez, and Danug could spend unbelievable amounts of time talking about flint and toolmaking, and she realized that Ranec also enjoyed the contact of others who worked with ivory.

As they walked across part of the cleared area, Ayla noticed Danug and Druwez with several other young men, smiling and shuffling nervously while talking to a red-footed woman. Danug looked up and saw her and smiled, then made a quick excuse and loped across a few yards of trampled and dried grass to join them. They waited for him to catch up.

"I saw you talking to Latie, and was going to bring some friends to meet you, Ayla, but we can't go too close to Giggle-Girl Camp… uh, I mean, uh" – Danug blushed, realizing he had given away the nickname the young men had for the place where they were not allowed.

"It's all right, Danug. They do giggle a lot."

The tall young man relaxed. "Not that there's anything wrong with that. Are you in a hurry? Can you come over and meet them now?"

Ayla gave Ranec a questioning glance.

"I was just going to take her to meet some people, too," Ranec said. "But there is no hurry. We can come over and meet your friends first."

As they started back toward the group of young men, Ayla noticed the red-footed woman was still there.

"I wanted to meet you, Ayla," the woman said after Danug made the introductions. "Everyone is talking about you, wondering where you came from, and why those animals answer to you. You have given us all a mystery that I'm sure we'll be talking about for years." She smiled, and gave Ayla a sly wink. "Take my advice. Don't tell anyone where you come from. Keep them guessing. It's more fun."

Ranec laughed. "She may be right, Ayla," he said. "Tell me, Mygie, why are you wearing red feet this year?"

"After Zacanen and I scattered the hearth, I didn't want to stay with his Camp, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to go back to my mother's Camp, either. This just seemed like the right thing to do. It gives me a place to stay for a while, and if the Mother chooses to give me a child for it, I wouldn't be sorry. Oh, that reminds me, did you know the Mother gave another woman a baby of your spirit, Ranec? You remember Tricie? Marlie's daughter? The one who lives here, at Wolf Camp? She chose red feet last year. This year she has a boy. Toralie's little girl was dark, like you, but not this one. I saw him. He's very light, with red hair even brighter than hers, but he looks just like you. Same nose and everything. She calls him Ralev."

Ayla looked at Ranec with a peculiar smile on her face, and noticed his color deepen. He's blushing, she thought, but you have to know him well to notice. I'm sure he remembers Tricie.

"I think we'd better go, Ayla," Ranec said, putting his arm around her waist as though to urge her back across the clearing. But she resisted a moment.

"It's been very interesting to talk to you, Mygie. I hope we talk again," Ayla said, then turned to Nezzie's son. "I'm pleased you asked me to come and meet your friends, Danug." She smiled one of her beautiful, breathtaking smiles at him and Druwez. "And I am happy to have met all of you," she added, looking at each one of the young men in turn; Then she left with Ranec.

Danug watched her walking away, then heaved a big sigh. "I wish Ayla was wearing red feet," he said. He heard several comments of agreement.

When Ranec and Ayla passed the large lodge, which was surrounded by the clearing on three sides, she heard the sound of drums coming from it, and some other interesting sounds which she had not heard before. She glanced toward the entrance, but it was closed. Just as they were turning into another Camp on the edge of the clearing, someone stepped in their path.

"Ranec," a woman said. She was shorter than average, with creamy white skin spattered with freckles. Her eyes, brown flecked with gold and green, sparked with anger. "So you did arrive with the Lion Camp. When you didn't stop by our lodge to say hello, I thought maybe you had fallen in the river, or got caught in a stampede." Her tone was venomous.

"Tricie! I… uh… I was going to… um… we had to set up Camp," Ranec said. Ayla had never seen the glib, smooth-talking man so tongue-tied, and his face would have been as red as Mygie's feet, if his brown skin hadn't hidden it.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend, Ranec?" Tricie said sarcastically. It was obvious she was upset.

"Yes," Ranec said, "I'd like you to meet her. Ayla, this is Tricie, a… a… friend of mine."

"I had something to show you, Ranec," Tricie said, rudely ignoring the introduction, "but I don't suppose it matters now. Hinted Promises don't mean much. I suppose this is the woman you will be joined with in the Matrimonial this season." There was hurt as well as anger in her voice.

Ayla guessed what the problem was, and sympathized, but was not quite sure how to handle this difficult situation. Then, she stepped forward, and held out both her hands.

"Tricie, I am Ayla, of the Mamutoi, daughter of the Mammoth Hearth of the Lion Camp, protected by the Cave Lion."

The formality of the greeting reminded Tricie that she was the daughter of a headwoman, and Wolf Camp was hosting the Summer Meeting. She did have a responsibility. "In the name of Mut, the Great Mother, Wolf Camp welcomes you, Ayla of the Mamutoi," she said. "I was told your mother is Marlie." "Yes, I am Marlie's daughter." "I met her earlier. She is a remarkable woman. I am pleased to meet you."

Ayla heard Ranec breathe a sigh of relief. She glanced at him, and over his shoulder, noticed Deegie heading toward the lodge from which she had heard the drumming. On impulse, she decided Ranec should work out his relationship with Tricie alone.

"Ranec, I see Deegie over there, and there are some things I want to talk to her about. I will come and meet the carvers later," Ayla said, and quickly left.

Ranec was stunned by her hurried departure, and suddenly realized he was going to have to face Tricie and make some explanations, whether he wanted to or not. He looked at the pretty young woman standing there waiting, angry and vulnerable. Her red hair, a particularly vibrant shade like none he had ever seen, along with her red feet, had made her doubly appealing last season, and she was an artist, too. He was impressed with the quality of her work. Her baskets were exquisite, and the exceptional mat on his floor came from her hands. But she took her offering to the Mother so seriously she would not even consider an experienced man at first. Her resistance only inflamed his desire for her.

He hadn't actually Promised, though. True, he had seriously considered it, and would have if she hadn't been dedicated. She was the one who had refused a formal Promise, fearing it would anger Mut and cause Her to withdraw Her blessing. Well, Ranec thought, the Mother could not have been too angry if She had drawn from his essence to make Tricie's baby. He guessed that was what she wanted to show him, that she already had a child to bring to his hearth, and one of his spirit, besides. It would have made her irresistible under other circumstances, but he loved Ayla. If he'd had enough to offer, he might have considered asking for them both, but since a choice had to be made, there was no question. Just the thought of living without Ayla put a knot of panic in the pit of his stomach. He wanted her more than any woman he'd ever wanted in his life.

Ayla called out to Deegie, and when she caught up with her, they walked together.

"I see you've met Tricie," Deegie said.

"Yes, but she seemed to need to talk to Ranec, so I was glad I saw you. It gave me the chance to get away and let them be alone," Ayla said.

"I don't doubt she wanted to talk to him. It was all over the Camp last season that they were planning to Promise."

"She has a child, you know. A son."

"No, I didn't! I've hardly had the chance to say more than hello to people, and no one told me. That's going to make her worth more and raise her Bride Price. Who told you?"

"Mygie did, one of the red-foots. She says the boy is of Ranec's spirit."

"That spirit moves around! There are a couple of young ones with his essence. You can't always tell for sure with the other men whose spirit it is, but you can with him. His coloring comes through," Deegie said.

"Mygie said this boy is very light, and red-haired, but looks like Ranec, in the face."

"That would be interesting! I think I may have to go to see Tricie later," Deegie said with a smile. "The daughter of one headwoman ought to pay a visit to the daughter of another headwoman, especially of the host Camp. Do you want to come with me when I go?"

"I'm not sure… yes, I think I would," Ayla said.

They had reached the curved arch entrance of the lodge from which the unusual sounds were coming. "I was going to stop here, at the Music Lodge. I think you might enjoy it," Deegie said, then scratched on the leather door covering. While they waited for someone to untie it from inside, Ayla glanced around.

Southeast of the entrance was a fence made of seven skulls of mammoths plus other bones, filled in with hard-packed clay to make it solid. Probably a windbreak, Ayla thought. In the hollow where the settlement was located, the only wind would come from the river valley. On the northeast she counted four huge outdoor hearths and two distinct work areas. One appeared to be for making tools and implements out of ivory and bone, the others must have been primarily concerned with working the flint which was found nearby. Ayla saw Jondalar and Wymez, and several other men and women who were also flint workers, she guessed. She should have known that would be where to find him.

The drape was pulled back, and Deegie beckoned Ayla to follow her in, but someone at the entrance stopped her.

"Deegie, you know we don't let visitors in here," she said. "We're practicing."

"But, Kylie, she is a daughter of the Mammoth Hearth," Deegie said, surprised.

"I don't see any tattoo. How can she be Mamut without a tattoo?"

"This is Ayla, daughter of old Mamut. He adopted her to the Mammoth Hearth."

"Oh. Just a moment, let me ask."

Deegie was impatient while they waited again, but Ayla looked more closely at the lodge, and got the impression that it had slumped, or fallen in somewhat.

"Why didn't you tell me she's the one with the animals?" Kylie said when she came back. "Come in."

"You should know I wouldn't bring anyone here who wasn't acceptable," Deegie said.

It was not dark in the lodge, the smoke hole was somewhat bigger than usual, and allowed light inside, but it did take awhile for eyes to adjust after the bright sunshine outside. At first, Ayla thought the person Deegie was talking to was a child. But when she saw her, Ayla realized she was probably somewhat older, not younger than her tall, stocky friend. The misimpression was caused by the difference in size between the two women. Kylie was small with a slender build, almost dainty, and next to Deegie, it was easy to mistake her for a child, but her lithe, supple movements bespoke the confidence and experience of maturity.

Though the shelter had seemed large from the outside, there was less room inside than Ayla had imagined. The ceiling was lower than usual, and half the usable space in the room was taken up by four mammoth skulls, which were partially buried in the floor with the tusk sockets upright. The trunks of small trees had been placed in the sockets, and were used as supports to brace the ceiling, which had slumped or fallen in. It struck Ayla, as she looked around, that this lodge was far from new. The wood and the thatching had the grayness of age. There were none of the usual household goods or large cooking hearths to be seen, only one small fireplace. The floor had been swept clean, leaving only dark traces of the former major hearths.

Ropes had been strung between the supporting uprights, and drapes, which could be used to divide the space, hung from them, bunched up at one end. Thrown over the ropes, or hanging from pegs on the posts, was the most unusual array of objects Ayla had ever seen. Colorful outfits, fantastic and ornate headgear, strings of ivory beads and seashells, pendants of bone and amber, and some things she couldn't begin to understand.

There were several people in the lodge. Some were sitting around a small fireplace, sipping from cups; a couple more were in the light streaming in through the smoke hole, sewing garments. To the left of the entrance, several people were sitting or kneeling on mats on the floor near large mammoth bones, decorated with red lines and zigzags. Ayla identified a leg bone, a shoulder blade, two lower jawbones, a pelvis bone, and a skull. They were greeted warmly, but Ayla felt they were interrupting something. Everyone seemed to be looking at them, as though waiting to find out why they had come.

"Don't stop practicing for us," Deegie said. "I brought Ayla to meet you, but we don't want to interrupt. We'll wait until you are ready to stop." The people turned back to their task, while Deegie and Ayla sat down on mats nearby.

A woman who was kneeling in front of the large femur began tapping out a steady beat with a hammer-shaped section of reindeer antler, but the sounds she was producing were more than rhythmic. As she hit the leg bone in different places, a resonant, melodic sound emerged, which changed in pitch and tone. Ayla looked more closely, wondering what caused the unusual timbre.

The leg bone was about thirty inches long and rested horizontally on two props that kept it off the ground. The epiphysis at the upper end had been removed, and some of the spongy inner material had been taken out, enlarging the natural canal. The bone was painted across the top with evenly spaced zigzag stripes in dark ochre red, similar to the patterns found so frequently on everything from footwear to house construction, but these seemed to serve more than a decorative or symbolic function. After watching for a while, Ayla felt sure the woman who was playing the leg-bone instrument was using the pattern of stripes as a guide to where she should strike to produce the tone she wanted.

Ayla had heard skull drums and Tornec's scapula played. All had some tonal variation, but she had never heard such a range of musical tones before. These people seemed to think she had some magical gifts, but this seemed more magical than anything she had ever done. A man began to tap on the mammoth shoulder blade like Tornec's with an antler hammer. The timbre and tone had a different resonance, a sharper quality, yet the sound complemented and added interest to the music that the woman played on the leg bone.

The large triangular-shaped scapula was about twenty-five inches long, with a narrow neck at the top, broadening out to about twenty inches along the bottom edge. He held the instrument by the neck, upright, in a vertical position, with the wide bottom resting on the ground. It was also painted with parallel, zigzag stripes in bright red. Each stripe, about the width of a small finger, was divided by spaces of equal width, and each one had a perfectly straight and even edge. In the center of the broad lower area most frequently struck, the red pattern of stripes was worn away and the bone was shiny from long, repeated use.

When the rest of the mammoth bone instruments joined in, Ayla held her breath. At first she could only listen, overwhelmed by the complex sound of the music, but after a while she concentrated on each one individually.

An older man played the larger of the lower jawbones, but rather than an antler hammer, he used an end piece of mammoth tusk, about twelve inches long, grooved around to make a knob at the thicker end. The mandible itself was painted, like the other instruments, but only on the right half. It was turned and rested steady, supported by the left undecorated side, which kept the right playing half off the ground for a clear, undamped sound. While playing it, he tapped along the parallel zigzag red bands that were painted within the hollow as well as along the outer edge of the cheek, and he rubbed the piece of ivory over the ridged surface of the tooth, to create a rasping accent.

A woman played the other jawbone, which was from a younger animal. It was twenty inches long, and fifteen inches across at its widest part, and was also painted with red zigzag stripes on the right side. A deep hole, about two inches wide by five inches long, where a tooth had been removed, altered the resonance and emphasized the higher-pitched tone.

The woman who played the pelvic-bone instrument also held it upright, resting one edge on the ground. She tapped, with an antler hammer, mostly in the center of the bone where a small natural inward curvature was found. The sounds were intensified and the changes in tone distinct at that place, and the red stripes painted there were almost entirely worn away.

Ayla was familiar with the strong, resonant, lower tones of the mammoth skull drum played by a young man. It was like the drums played by Deegie and Mamut with such skill. The drum was also painted where it was struck, on the forehead and roof of the skull, but in this case it did not have zigzag lines, but a distinctly different pattern of branched lines and disconnected marks and dots.

After the people stopped playing, on a satisfactorily conclusive note, they became involved in a discussion. Deegie joined in, but Ayla just listened, trying to understand the unfamiliar terms, but not wanting to intrude.

"The piece needs balance as well as harmony," the woman who played the leg-bone instrument was saying. "I think we could introduce a wind reed before Kylie dances."

"I'm sure you could convince Barzec to sing that part, Tharie," Deegie said.

"It would be better to work him in later. Kylie and Barzec both would be too much. One would detract from the other. No, I think a five-tone crane wind reed would be best. Let's try it, Manen," she said to a man with a neatly trimmed beard, who had joined them from the other group.

Tharie started playing again, and this time, the sounds were becoming familiar to the newcomer. Ayla felt pleased to be allowed to watch, and wanted nothing more than to sit quietly and enjoy this new experience. With the introduction of the haunting tones of the wind reed, a flutelike instrument made of the hollow leg bone of a crane, Ayla was suddenly reminded of the eerie spiritual voice of Ursus, the Great Cave Bear, from the Clan Gathering. Only one mog-ur could make that sound. It was a secret passed down through his line, but he had held something to his mouth. It must have been the same kind of thing, she thought.

Nothing, however, moved Ayla so much as when Kylie started dancing. Ayla noticed first that she wore loose bracelets on each arm, similar to the Sungaea dancer's. Each bracelet was made of a set of five thin strips of mammoth ivory, perhaps a half-inch wide, incised with diagonal cut marks radiating out from a central diamond shape in a way that created an overall zigzag pattern when all five were held together. A small hole had been bored through at each end to tie them together, and they rattled together when she moved in a certain way.

Kylie stayed in one place, more or less, sometimes slowly assuming impossible positions which she held, and other times making acrobatic movements, which caused the loose bracelets she wore on each arm to rattle as emphasis. The motions of the supple, strong woman were so graceful and smooth she made it look easy, but Ayla knew she could never have made them. She was enthralled with the performance, and found herself making spontaneous comments after she was through, the way the Mamutoi so often did.

"How do you do that? It was wonderful! Everything. The sounds, the movements. I have never seen anything like it," Ayla said. The smiles of appreciation showed her comments were well received.

Deegie sensed that the musicians felt satisfied and their need for intense concentration had passed. They were more relaxed now, ready for a rest, and ready to satisfy their curiosity about the mysterious woman who had apparently come out of nowhere and was now a Mamutoi. The coals in the fireplace were stirred, wood added, and cooking rocks, and water for tea poured into a wooden cooking bowl.

"Certainly you've seen something like it, Ayla," Kylie said.

"No, not at all," Ayla protested.

"What about the rhythms you were showing me?" Deegie said.

"That's not the same at all. Those are just simple Clan rhythms."

"Clan rhythms?" Tharie asked. "What are Clan rhythms?"

"The Clan are the people I grew up with," Ayla started to explain.

"They are deceptively simple," Deegie interrupted, "but they evoke strong feelings."

"Can you show us?" the young man who played the skull drum asked.

Deegie looked at Ayla. "Shall we, Ayla?" she asked, then went on to explain to the others. "We've been playing around with them a little.".

"I guess we could," Ayla said.

"Let's do it," Deegie said. "We need something to make a deep steady beat, muffled, no resonance, like something striking the ground, if Ayla can use your drum, Marut."

"I think wrapping a piece of leather around this striker might work," Tharie said, volunteering her leg-bone instrument.

The musicians were intrigued. The promise of something new was always interesting. Deegie kneeled on the mat in Tharie's place, and Ayla sat cross-legged close to the drum and tapped it to get the feel. Then Deegie hit the leg-bone instrument in a few places until Ayla indicated the sound was right.

When they were ready, Deegie began beating a slow steady pace, changing the tempo slightly until she saw Ayla nod, but not changing the tone at all. Ayla closed her eyes, and when she felt herself moving to Deegie's steady beat, she joined in. The timbre of the skull drum was too resonant to replicate exactly the sounds Ayla remembered. It was difficult to create the sense of a sharp crack of thunder, for example; the sharp staccato beats came out more like a sustained rumbling, but she had been practicing with a drum like it. Soon she was weaving an unusual contrapuntal rhythm around the strong, steady beat, a seemingly random pattern of staccato sounds that varied in tempo. The two sets of rhythms were so distinct they bore no relationship to each other, yet a stressed beat of Ayla's rhythms coincided with every fifth beat of Deegie's steady sound, almost as if by accident.

The two rhythms had the effect of producing an increasing sense of expectation, and after a while, a slight feeling of anxiety until the two beats, though it seemed impossible that they ever would, came together. With each release, another surge of tension mounted. At the moment when it seemed no one could stand it any more, Ayla and Deegie stopped before a concluding beat, and left a heightened expectation hanging in the air. Then, to Deegie's surprise as much as anyone, a windy, reedy, flutelike whistle was heard, with a haunting, eerie not-quite melody, that sent a shiver through the listeners. It ended on a note of closure, but a sense of otherworldliness still lingered.

No one said a word for some moments. Finally Tharie said, "What strange, asymmetrical, compelling music." Then several people wanted Ayla to show them the rhythms, eager to try them out.

"Who played the wind reed?" Tharie asked, knowing it wasn't Manen, who had been standing beside her.

"No one did," Deegie said. "It wasn't an instrument. Ayla was whistling."

"Whistling? How does anyone whistle like that?"

"Ayla can imitate any whistling sound," Deegie said. "You ought to hear her bird calls. Even they think she's a bird. She can get them to come and eat out of her hand. It's part of her way with animals."

"Would you show us a bird whistle, Ayla?" Tharie said, in a tone that sounded unbelieving.

She didn't think it was really the place, but went through a quick repertoire of bird whistles, which brought the astonished looks Deegie had expected.

Ayla was grateful when Kylie offered to show her around. She was shown some of the costumes and other paraphernalia, and discovered that some of the headpieces were actually face masks. Most things were garishly colored, but worn at night, by firelight, the colors of the costumes would stand out, yet appear normal. Someone was grinding red ochre from a small pouch, and mixing it into fat. With a chill, she again remembered Creb rubbing a paste of red ochre on Iza's body before her burial, but she was told it would be used to decorate and add color to the faces and bodies of the players and dancers. She noticed ground charcoal and white chalk, too.

Ayla watched a man sewing beads on a tunic, using an awl, and it occurred to her how much easier it would be with a thread-puller, but she decided to have Deegie bring one over. She was getting too much attention as it was, and it made her uncomfortable. They looked at strings of beads and other jewelry, and Kylie held up two conical spiral seashells to her ears.

"Too bad your ears are not pierced," she said. "These would look nice on you."

"They are nice," Ayla said. She noticed the holes in Kylie's ears then, and in her nose as well. She liked Kylie, and admired her, and felt a rapport that could lead to friendship.

"Why don't you take them anyway? You can talk to Deegie or Tulie and have them do it. And you really should have a tattoo, Ayla. Then you can go wherever you want, and won't have to keep explaining that you belong to the Mammoth Hearth."

"But I'm really not Mamut," Ayla said.

"I think you are, Ayla. I'm not sure what the rites are, but I know Lomie would not hesitate if you told her you were ready to dedicate yourself to the Mother."

"I'm not sure if I am ready."

"Maybe not, but you will be. I feel it in you."

When she and Deegie left, Ayla realized she had been given something very special, a private look behind the scenes that few people were allowed to see. It was a place of mystery, even uncloaked and explained, but how much more magical and supernatural it must seem, she thought, when seen from outside. Ayla glanced toward the flint-working area as they were leaving, but Jondalar was not there.

She followed as Deegie walked through the encampment, heading toward the back of the hollow, looking for friends and relations, and finding out where all the various Camps were located. They passed an area where three Camps, tucked in among brush, faced a clearing. There was a noticeable feeling about the area that was different, but Ayla couldn't put her finger on it at first. Then she began to notice specific details. The tents were ragged, and not well hung, and holes were poorly patched, if at all. A strong unpleasant smell and the buzz of flies called her attention to a rotting piece of meat left on the ground between two tents, and then she noticed more garbage strewn haphazardly around. She knew that children often got dirty, but the ones that were staring at them looked like they hadn't been clean for some time. Their clothes were grimy, their hair unkempt, their faces dirty. There was an unsavory squalor about the place.

Ayla noticed Chaleg lounging in front of one tent. Her appearance there took him by surprise, and his first expression was one of malicious hatred. It shocked her. Only Broud had ever looked at her that way. Then Chaleg covered it, but the insincere, malevolent smile was almost worse than the blatant hatred.

"Let's leave this area," Deegie said, with a sniff of disdain. "It's always a good idea to know where they are, so you know what to avoid."

Suddenly there was a loud eruption of screaming and shouting as two children, a boy in his early teens and a girl about eleven years, came running out of one of the tents.

"You give that back to me! Do you hear? You give that back to me!" the girl screamed as she chased after the boy.

"You've got to catch me first, little sister," the boy taunted, holding something in her face and shaking it.

"You… Oh, you… Give that back!" the girl screamed again and ran after him with a new burst of speed.

The boy's smile made it clear that he was taking great delight in the girl's anger and frustration, but when he turned back to look at her, he failed to notice an exposed root. He tripped and fell heavily, and the girl was on top of him, hitting and pounding with all her might. He hit her in the face then, with great force, and brought a spurt of blood from her nose. She cried out, and struck him back in the mouth, tearing his lip.

"Help me, Ayla!" Deegie said, as she descended on the two children rolling on the ground. She wasn't quite as strong as her mother, but she was a tall and strong young woman, and when she grabbed the boy, who happened to be on top of his sister at that moment, there was no resisting her. Ayla held on to the girl, who was struggling to get back at the boy again.

"What do you think you're doing?" Deegie said sternly. "How can you bring this shame upon yourselves? Hitting, striking each other, and brother and sister besides. Well, you two are coming with me. We'll get this taken care of right now!" she said, as she dragged the reluctant boy by the arm. Ayla followed behind with the girl, who was now struggling to get away.

People stared as they walked past, firmly leading the blood-spattered children, and then followed behind. By the time Deegie and Ayla had brought the children to the lodges in the center of the Camp, word had gone on ahead, and a group of women were waiting. Tulie was among them, Ayla noticed, and Marlie, and Brecie, headwomen, she realized, who made up the Council of Sisters.

"She started it…" the boy shouted.

"He took my…" the girl started to yell back.

"Quiet!" Tulie said, firmly and loudly, her eyes blazing fury.

"There are no excuses for hitting, for striking another person," Marlie said, as hard and angry as Tulie. "You are both old enough to know that, and if you don't, you will now. Bring the leather thongs," she commanded.

A young man ran into one of the lodges, and soon Valez emerged, holding several straps of leather. The girl looked horror stricken, and the boy's eye widened. He struggled to get away, broke free, and started to run, but Talut, who was just coming from Cattail Camp, caught him in a quick dash, and brought him back.

Ayla was concerned. Both children needed their hurts attended to, but more than that, what were they going to do to them? After all, they were just children.

While Talut held the boy, another man took one of the long leather thongs and began to wrap it around him, tying his right arm down to his side. It was not tight enough to cut off circulation, but it held the arm immobile. Then someone brought the girl up, who began to cry when her right arm was tied down to her side.

"But… but he took my…"

"It doesn't matter what he took," Tulie said.

"There are other ways of getting it back," Brecie said. "You could have come to the Council of Sisters. That's why we have Councils."

"What do you think would happen if everyone was allowed to strike each other just because someone disagreed, or teased, or took something?" another woman said.

"You both must learn," Marlie said, as the boy's left ankle was tied to the girl's right ankle, "there is no bond as strong as the bond between brother and sister. It is the bond of birth. So that you will remember you will be bound to each other for two days, and the hands that hit each other held down so they cannot rise in anger. You must help each other now. One cannot go where the other cannot go. One cannot sleep unless the other lies down. One cannot eat, or drink, or wash, or do any personal act without the other. You will learn to depend on each other, as you must do all your lives."

"And all who see you will know the abomination you have committed upon each other," Talut announced loudly, so that all heard.

"Deegie," Ayla said in a quiet voice, "they do need help, the girl's nose is still bleeding, and the boy's mouth is swollen."

Deegie went to Tulie and whispered in her ear. The woman nodded, then stepped forward. "Before you return to your Camp, go with Ayla to the Mammoth Hearth, where she will look to the hurts you inflicted upon each other."

The first lesson in cooperation they had to learn was how to match their steps, so they could walk with their ankles tied together. Deegie went with Ayla and the youngsters to the Mammoth Hearth, and after they were cleaned up and treated, both young women watched them hobble away together.

"They were really fighting," Ayla said as they walked back to Cattail Camp, "but the boy did take something from the girl."

"It doesn't matter," Deegie said. "Hitting is not the way to get it back. They must learn fighting is unacceptable. It's obvious they didn't learn that at their own Camp, so they must learn it here. It makes you understand why Crozie was so reluctant to have Fralie join with Frebec."

"No, why?"

"Didn't you know? Frebec came from one of those Camps. All three are closely related. Chaleg is Frebec's cousin."

"Well, Frebec has certainly changed a lot."

"That's true, but I'll be honest with you. I'm still not sure about him. I think I'll hold judgment until he's really put to the test."

Ayla couldn't keep her mind off the children, or the thought that there was something for her to learn from this experience. Judgment had been swift and absolutely without recourse. They hadn't even been given a chance to explain, and no one considered looking at their injuries first – she still didn't even know their names. But they weren't seriously hurt, and there was no doubt they had been fighting. While the punishment was swift, and they were not likely to forget it, it was not painful, though they might feel the hurt of humiliation and ridicule for many years.

"Deegie," Ayla said, "about those children, their left arms are free. What will keep them from untying those bonds?"

"Everyone will know it. As humiliating as it may be to have to walk around the encampment tied together with their arms held down, it would be far worse if they took the bindings off. It would be said that they were controlled by the evil spirits of anger, that they couldn't even control themselves enough to learn the value of each other's help. They'd be shunned, and shamed even worse."

"I don't think they will ever forget this," Ayla said.

"And neither will a lot of other youngsters. Even the arguing will be less for a while, though it doesn't hurt them to yell at each other a little," Deegie said.

Ayla was eager to get back to the familiarity of Cattail Camp. She had met so many people and seen so many things her mind was in a whirl. It would take awhile to absorb it all, but she couldn't help but look when they passed by the flint-working area again. This time, she saw Jondalar, but she also saw someone else whom she had not expected to see. Mygie was there, looking adoringly up into his startling blue eyes, and Ayla thought the way she was standing was particularly exaggerated. Jondalar was smiling at Mygie, an easy, comfortable smile that she hadn't seen for a long time, and he had that look in his eyes that she hadn't seen for a long time, either.

"I thought those red-footed women were supposed to be concerned with teaching young men," Ayla said, thinking that nobody needed to teach Jondalar anything.

Deegie noticed Ayla's expression, and quickly saw the reason for her frown. She could understand it, but on the other hand, it had been a long and difficult winter for him, too.

"He does have physical needs, Ayla, just like you do."

Suddenly Ayla blushed. She was the one, after all, who had been sharing Ranec's bed, while Jondalar slept alone. Why should she be upset if he found a woman to make Pleasures with here at the Summer Meeting? She should have expected it, but she knew why. She wanted him to make Pleasures with her. It wasn't so much the idea of his choosing Mygie; it was that he hadn't chosen her.

"If he's going to look for a woman, it's best if he can find an agreeable red-foot," Deegie continued. "They can't make commitments. By the time the season is over, unless the feeling is very strong, it won't last through a long winter. I don't think his feeling for Mygie will be very strong, Ayla, and she might help him to relax and think more clearly."

"You're right, Deegie. What difference does it make? He's leaving after the mammoth hunt, he says… and I have Promised to join with Ranec," Ayla said.

Then, she thought, as they walked through the crowds of people, I will go back to the Clan, and find Durc, and bring him here. He can become a Mamutoi, and share our hearth, and be a friend to Rydag. And he can bring Ura, too, so he will have a mate… and I will live here, with all my new friends, and Ranec, who loves me, and Durc, my son… my only child… and Rydag, and the horses, and Wolf… And I'll never see Jondalar again, Ayla thought, as a cold bleakness filled her.