"I didn't teach her that, Iza," Creb responded. "She must have learned it herself."

Iza turned back to the girl. "Did you learn that yourself?" she asked.

"Yes, mother," Ayla gestured, making the symbol again. She wasn't exactly sure what the hand signal meant, but she had an idea. She knew it was used by children to the women who cared for them. Though her mind had blocked out memories of her own mother, her heart had not forgotten. Iza had replaced that woman whom Ayla had loved and lost.

The woman who had been childless for so long felt a surge of emotion. "My daughter," Iza said with a rare spontaneous hug. "My child. I knew she was my daughter from the first, Creb. Didn't I tell you? She was given to me; the spirits meant for her to be mine, I'm sure of it."

Creb didn't argue with her. Perhaps she was right.

After that evening, the child's nightmares decreased, though she still had them occasionally. Two dreams recurred most frequently. One was of hiding in a small cramped cave trying to get out of the way of a huge, sharp claw. The other was more vague and more disturbing. There was a sensation of the earth moving, a deep rolling rumble, and an infinitely painful sense of loss. She cried out in her strange language, used less and less, when she awoke and clung to Iza. When she first came to them, she lapsed into her own tongue sometimes without realizing it, but as she learned to communicate more in the way of the Clan, it only came out in her dreams. After a time, it even left her dreams, but she never woke from the haunting nightmare of crumbling earth without a feeling of desolation.

The short hot summer pa.s.sed and the light morning frosts of autumn brought a nip to the air and a brilliant splash of scarlet and amber to the verdant forest. A few early snows, sluiced away by heavy seasonal rains that stripped branches of their colorful cloaks, hinted at the coming cold. Later, when only a few tenacious leaves still clung to the bare branches of trees and shrubs, a brief interlude of bright sunshine brought a last reminder of summer heat before the harsh winds and bitter cold closed down most outside activities.

The clan was out, savoring the sun. On the broad front exposure of the cave the women were winnowing grain harvested from the gra.s.sy steppes below. A brisk wind kicked up an extravagance of dry leaves, lending a semblance of life to the whirling vestiges of summer's fullness. Taking advantage of the gusty air, the women tossed up the grain from wide shallow baskets, letting the wind carry away the chaff before they caught the heavier seeds.

Iza was leaning over behind Ayla, her hands over the girl's as she held the basket, showing her how to fling the grain high in the air without throwing it out with the husks and bits of straw.

Ayla was conscious of Iza's hard, protruding stomach against her back and felt the strong contraction that made the woman stop suddenly. Shortly afterward, Iza left the group and went into the cave, followed by Ebra and Uka. The girl shot an apprehensive glance at the knot of men who had stopped their conversation and followed the women with their eyes, expecting them to reprimand the three women for leaving while there was still work to be done. But the men were inexplicably permissive. Ayla decided to chance their displeasure and followed after the women.

In the cave, Iza was resting on her sleeping fur with Ebra and Uka on either side of her. Why is Iza lying down in the middle of the day? Ayla thought. Is she sick? Iza saw the girl's worried look and made a gesture of rea.s.surance, but it didn't ease Ayla's concern. It grew when she saw her adopted mother's strained expression at the next contraction.

Ebra and Uka talked with Iza about ordinary things, all the food that was stored, the change in the weather. But Ayla had learned enough to pick up their concern from the expressions and posture of the women. Something was wrong, she was sure. Ayla decided nothing would make her leave Iza until she found out what it was, and she sat down near her feet to wait.

Toward evening, Ika walked over with Borg on her hip, then Aga brought her daughter, Ona, and both women sat and visited while they nursed, adding their moral support. Ovra and Oga were full of concern, and curiosity, when they crowded around Iza's bed. Though Uka's daughter was not mated yet, she was a woman, and Ovra knew she could bring forth life now. Oga would soon become a woman, and they were both intensely interested in the process Iza was going through.

When Vorn saw Aba go over and sit beside her daughter, he wanted to know why all the women were at Mog-ur's fire. He wandered over and crawled on Aga's lap beside his sibling to see what was going on, but Ona was still nursing, so the old woman picked up the boy and held him on her lap. He couldn't see anything of great interest, just the medicine woman resting, so he wandered off again.

The women started leaving not long afterward, to begin preparing evening meals. Uka stayed with Iza, though Ebra and Oga kept glancing over inconspicuously while they cooked. Ebra served Creb as well as Brun, then brought food for Uka, Iza, and Ayla. Ovra cooked for her mother's mate, but she and Oga returned quickly when Grod went over to Brun's hearth to join the leader and Creb. They didn't want to miss anything and sat down beside Ayla who hadn't stirred from her place.

Iza only sipped a little tea and Ayla wasn't very hungry either. She picked at her food, unable to eat with the tight knot constricting her stomach. What's wrong with Iza? Why isn't she getting up to make Creb's evening meal? Why isn't Creb here asking the spirits to make her well? Why is he staying with all the rest of the men at Brun's hearth?

Iza was straining harder. Every few moments she took several quick breaths, then pushed hard holding the hands of the two women. Every member of the clan kept vigil as the night wore on. The men were cl.u.s.tered around the leader's fire, apparently involved in some deep discussion. But the occasional surrept.i.tious glances betrayed their real interest. The women visited periodically, checking on Iza's progress, sometimes staying for a while. They all waited, united in their encouragement and antic.i.p.ation while their medicine woman labored to give birth.

It was well after dark. Suddenly there was a flurry of activity. Ebra spread out a hide while Uka helped Iza up into a squatting position. She was breathing hard, straining hard, crying out in pain. Ayla was trembling, sitting between Ovra and Oga who groaned and strained in sympathy with Iza. The woman took a deep breath, and with a long, teeth-gritting, muscle-straining push, the round crown of the baby's head appeared in a gush of water. Another tremendous effort eased out the baby's head. The rest was easier as Iza delivered the wet, squirming body of a tiny infant.

A final push brought forth a ma.s.s of b.l.o.o.d.y tissue. Iza lay down again, exhausted from her labor, while Ebra picked up the baby, extracted a gob of mucus from its mouth with her finger, and laid the newborn on Iza's stomach. As she thumped the baby's feet, the infant's mouth opened and a loud squall announced the first breath of life of Iza's first child. Ebra tied a piece of red-dyed sinew around the umbilical cord and bit off the part still attached to the placental ma.s.s, then lifted the baby for Iza to see. She got up and went back to her own hearth to report the medicine woman's successful delivery and the gender of the child to her mate. She sat in front of Brun, bowed her head, and looked up at a tap on her shoulder.

8*

"I am grieved to report," Ebra said, making the customary gesture of sorrow, "Iza's baby is a girl."

But the news was not received with sorrow. Brun was relieved, though he would never admit it. The arrangement of the magician providing for his sibling, especially with the addition of Ayla to the clan, was working out well and the leader was reluctant to change it. Mog-ur was doing a creditable job of training the newcomer, much better than he expected. Ayla was learning to communicate and to behave within Clan customs. Creb was not only relieved, he was overjoyed. In his old age, for the first time in his life, he had come to know the pleasures of a warm and loving family, and the birth of a girl to Iza a.s.sured it would remain together.

And for the first time since they moved into the new cave, Iza could draw a breath free of anxiety. She was glad the birth had gone so well, as old as she was. She had attended many women who had far more difficulty than she. Several came close to dying, a few did, and more than a few babies as well. It seemed to her that babies' heads were just too large for the women's birth pa.s.sages. Her worry over the actual delivery had not been nearly as great as her concern over the s.e.x of the child. Such insecurity about the future was almost unbearable for Clan people.

Iza lay back on her fur, relaxing. Uka wrapped the infant in a swaddling of soft rabbit fur and laid the babe in her mother's arms. Ayla hadn't moved. She was looking with longing curiosity at Iza; the woman saw her and beckoned.

"Come here, Ayla. Would you like to see the baby?"

Ayla approached shyly. "Yes," she nodded. Iza pulled back the covering so the girl could see the infant.

The tiny replica of Iza had a light down of brown fuzz on her head, and the boney occipital k.n.o.b at the back was more noticeable without the thick head of hair she would soon have. The baby's head was somewhat rounder than in adults, but still long, and her forehead sloped back sharply from her not quite fully developed brow ridges. Ayla reached out to touch the newborn's soft cheek and the baby instinctively turned toward the touch, making small sucking noises.

"She's beautiful," Ayla motioned, her eyes full of soft wonder at the miracle she had seen. "Is she trying to talk, Iza?" the girl asked as the infant waved small clenched fists in the air.

"Not yet, but she will soon and you will have to help teach her," Iza replied.

"Oh, I will. I'll teach her to talk. Just like you and Creb taught me."

"I know you will, Ayla," the new mother said, covering her baby again.

The girl stayed protectively close by while Iza rested. Ebra had wrapped the afterbirth tissue in the hide that had been put down just before the delivery and hid it in an inconspicuous corner until Iza could take it outside to bury it in a place only she would know. If the baby had been stillborn, it would have been buried at the same time, and no one would ever mention the birth; nor would the mother show her grief openly, but a subtle gentleness and sympathy would be extended.

If the baby had been born alive but deformed, or if the leader of the clan decided the newborn was unacceptable for some other reason, the mother's task would have been more onerous. Then she would be required to take the baby away and bury it or leave it exposed to the elements and carnivores. Rarely was a deformed child allowed to live; if it was female, almost never. If a baby was male, especially first-born, and if the woman's mate wanted the child, he could at the discretion of the leader be allowed to remain with his mother for the first seven days of his life as a test of his ability to survive. Any child still alive after seven days, by Clan tradition which had the force of law, had to be named and accepted into the clan.

The first days of Creb's life had hung in just such a balance. His mother had barely survived his birth. Her mate was also the leader and the decision of whether the newborn male would be allowed to live rested solely with him. But his decision was made more for the woman's sake than for the baby's, whose malformed head and unmoving limbs gave early indication of the damage the difficult birth had inflicted. She was too weak, she had lost too much blood, she hovered on the edge of death herself. Her mate could not require that she dispose of the child; she was too weak to do it. If the mother couldn't do it, or if she died, the task fell to the medicine woman, but Creb's mother was the medicine woman of the clan. So he was left with his mother, though no one expected him to survive.

His mother's milk was slow to start. When he clung to life against all odds, another nursing woman took pity on the poor infant and fed Creb his first life-sustaining nourishment. In such tenuous circ.u.mstances, life began for Mog-ur, the holiest of holy men, the most skilled and powerful magician of the entire Clan.

Now the crippled man and his brother approached Iza and the baby. At a peremptory signal from Brun, Ayla quickly got up and moved away but watched from a distance out of the corner of her eye. Iza sat up, unwrapped her baby, and held her up to Brun, careful not to look at either man. Both men examined the infant, wailing loudly at being taken from her mother's warm side and exposed to the cold air of the cave. They were just as careful not to look at Iza.

"The child is normal," Brun's gesture announced gravely. "She may stay with her mother. If she lives until the naming day, she will be accepted."

Iza really didn't have any fear that Brun would reject her child, but she was relieved nonetheless at the formal statement from the leader. Only one last twinge of worry remained. She hoped her daughter would not be unlucky because its mother had no mate. He had been alive, after all, at the time she became certain she was expecting, Iza reasoned, and Creb was like a mate, at least he provided for them. Iza put the thought out of her mind.

For the next seven days Iza would be isolated, confined to the boundaries of Creb's fire, except for necessary trips to relieve herself and to bury the placenta. None of the clan officially recognized the existence of Iza's baby while she was in isolation except those who shared the same hearth, but other women brought food for them so Iza could rest. It allowed a brief visit and an unofficial peek at the new baby. Beyond the seven days until she stopped bleeding, she would be under a modified woman's curse. Her contacts would be restricted to women, the same as during her menses.

Iza spent her time nursing and caring for her child and, when she felt rested, reorganizing food areas, cooking areas, sleeping areas, and her medicine storage area within the boundary stones that defined Creb's hearth, his territory inside the cave now shared by three females.

Because of Mog-ur's unique position in the clan hierarchy, his location was in a very favorable spot: close enough to the mouth of the cave to benefit from daylight and summer sun, but not so close that it was subject to the worst of the winter drafts. His hearth had an additional feature, for which Iza was particularly grateful for Creb's sake. An outcrop of stone extending from the side wall gave extra protection from winds. Even with the wind barrier and a constant fire near the opening, cold winds often blasted more exposed sites. The old man's rheumatism and arthritis were always much worse in winter, aggravated by the cold dampness of the cave. Iza had made sure that Creb's sleeping furs, resting on a soft layer of straw and gra.s.s packed into a shallow trench, were in the protected corner.

One of the few tasks that had been required of the men, aside from hunting, was the construction of the wind barrier-hides stretched across the entrance supported by posts sunk into the ground. Another was paving the area around the mouth with smooth rocks brought up from the stream to keep rains and melting snows from turning the cave entrance into a quagmire of mud. The floor of the individual hearths was bare earth, with woven mats scattered around for sitting or serving food.

Two other shallow trenches filled with straw and covered with fur were near Creb's, and the top fur of each was the one also used as a warm outer cloak by the person who slept there. Besides Creb's bearskin, there was Iza's saiga antelope hide and a new white fur from a snow leopard. The animal had been lurking near the cave, well below its usual haunts in the higher elevations of the mountain. Goov was credited with the kill and he gave the pelt to Creb.

Many of the clan wore skins or kept a piece of horn or tooth from the animal that symbolized their protective totem. Creb thought the snow leopard fur would be appropriate for Ayla. Although it was not her totem, it was a similar creature and he knew it was unlikely that hunters would stalk a cave lion. The huge feline seldom strayed far from the steppes and posed little threat to the clan in their cave on the wooded slopes. They were not disposed to hunt the ma.s.sive carnivore without good reason. Iza had just finished curing the hide and making new footwear for the girl before she started into labor. The child was delighted with it and looked for any excuse to go outside so she could wear it.

Iza was making herself a wormseed tea to encourage the flow of milk and to relieve the painful cramps of her uterus contracting back to its normal shape. She had collected and dried the long narrow leaves and small greenish flowers earlier in the year in antic.i.p.ation of the birth of her child. She glanced toward the cave entrance looking for Ayla. The woman had just changed the absorbent leather strap she wore during her menstrual cycles and since her delivery, and she had wanted to go into the nearby woods to bury the soiled one. She was looking for the girl to keep an eye on the sleeping infant for the few moments she would be gone.

But Ayla was nowhere near the cave. She was looking for small round stones along the stream. Iza had commented that she wanted more cooking stones before the stream iced over, and Ayla thought it would please her if she got some. The girl was on her knees on a rocky strand near the water's edge searching for rocks of just the right size. She glanced up and noticed a small lump of white fur beneath a bush. Moving the leafless brush aside, she saw a half-grown rabbit lying on its side. Its leg was broken and crusted with dried blood.

The wounded animal, panting with thirst, was unable to move. It looked at the girl with nervous eyes as she reached out and felt its warm soft fur. A young wolf pup, just learning his hunting skills, had caught the rabbit, but it had managed to break free. Before the young carnivore could make another dash for his prey, his mother issued a yelping summons. The pup, who was not really hungry, turned in mid-stride in answer to the urgent call. The rabbit had dived for the thicket and froze, hoping not to be seen. By the time it felt safe enough to hop away, it couldn't, and had been lying beside the running water dying of thirst. Its life was nearly drained.

Ayla lifted the warm furry animal and cuddled it in her arms. She had held Iza's new baby, wrapped in soft rabbit fur, and the bunny felt like the baby to her. She sat on the ground rocking it, then noticed the blood and the leg bent at an odd angle. Poor baby, your leg is hurt, the child thought. Maybe Iza can fix it; she fixed mine once. Forgetting her plan to find cooking stones, she got up and carried the wounded animal back to the cave.

Iza was napping when Ayla walked in, but she woke at the sound of her step. The child held the rabbit out to the medicine woman, showing her its wounds. Iza had sometimes taken pity on small animals and applied a little first aid, but she had never brought one back to the cave.

"Ayla, animals don't belong in the cave," Iza motioned.

Ayla's hopeful expectations dashed, she cuddled the rabbit to her, bowed her head sadly, and started to leave, tears starting to fill her eyes.

Iza saw the little girl's disappointment. "Well, since you brought it, I might as well take a look at it," she said. Ayla brightened and handed the wounded animal to Iza.

"This animal is thirsty, get some water for it," Iza gestured. Ayla quickly poured clear liquid from a large waterbag and brought a cup, full to the brim. Iza was slivering wood for a splint. Freshly cut strips of leather were on the ground to tie on the splint.

"Take the waterbag and bring in more water, Ayla, we're nearly out; then we'll start some heating. I'll need to clean the wound," the woman directed as she stirred up the fire and put some stones in it. Ayla s.n.a.t.c.hed the bag and ran to the pool. The water had revived the small creature and it was nibbling on seeds and grain Iza had given it when the child came back.

Creb was astonished when he returned later and saw Ayla cuddling the rabbit while Iza was nursing her baby. He saw the splint on its leg and caught a look from Iza that said, "What else could I do?" While the girl was engrossed with her live doll, Iza and Creb spoke in silent signals.

"What made her bring a rabbit into the cave?" Creb asked.

"It was hurt. She brought it to me to heal it. She didn't know we don't bring animals into our home. But her feelings were not wrong, Creb, I think she has the instincts of a medicine woman. Creb," Iza paused-"I wanted to talk to you about her. She is not an attractive child, you know."

Creb glanced in Ayla's direction. "She's appealing, but you're right, she's not attractive," he admitted. "But what does that have to do with the rabbit?"

"What chance will she ever have to mate? Any man with a totem strong enough for her would never want her. He could have his pick of women. What will happen to her when she becomes a woman? If she doesn't mate, she will have no status."

"I've thought about it, but what's to be done?"

"If she were a medicine woman, she would have her own status," Iza suggested, "and she's like a daughter to me."

"But she's not of your line, Iza. She was not born to you. Your daughter will carry on your line."

"I know, I have a daughter now, but why can't I train Ayla, too? Didn't you name her as I held her in my arms? Didn't you announce her totem at the same time? That makes her my daughter, doesn't it? She was accepted, she's Clan now, isn't she?" Iza asked fervently, then rushed on, afraid Creb would answer unfavorably. "I think she has a natural talent for it, Creb. She shows an interest, she is always asking me questions when I work the healing magic."

"She asks more questions than anyone I've ever met," Creb interjected, "about everything. She must learn it is discourteous to ask so many questions," he added.

"But look at her, Creb. She sees a wounded animal and wants to heal it. That's the sign of a medicine woman if I ever saw one."

Creb was silent, thoughtful. "Acceptance into the Clan doesn't change who she is, Iza. She was born to the Others, how can she learn all the knowledge you have? You know she doesn't have the memories."

"But she learns quickly. You've seen that. Look how fast she learned to talk. You'd be surprised how much she has learned already. And she has good hands for it, a gentle touch. She held the rabbit while I put on the splint. It seemed to trust her." Iza leaned forward. "Neither of us is young anymore, Creb. What will happen to her when we're gone to the world of the spirits? Do you want her to be traded from fire to fire, always a burden, always the lowest-ranked woman?"

Creb had worried about the same thing himself, but unable to come up with a solution, he put the thought out of his mind. "Do you really think you can train her, Iza?" he asked, still doubtful.

"I can start with that rabbit. I can let her take care of it, show her how. I'm sure she can learn, Creb, even without the memories. I can teach her. There are not so many different illnesses and injuries, she's young enough, she can learn them, she doesn't need to have a memory of them."

"I will have to think about it, Iza," Creb said.

The child was rocking and crooning to the rabbit. She saw Iza and Creb talking and remembered that she had often seen Creb make gestures calling on the spirits to help Iza's healing magic work. She brought the small furry animal to the magician.

"Creb, will you ask the spirits to make the rabbit well?" she motioned after putting it down at his feet.

Mog-ur looked into her earnest face. He had never asked for help from spirits to heal an animal, and he felt a little foolish about it, but he didn't have the heart to refuse her. He glanced around, then made a few quick gestures.

"Now it's sure to get well," Ayla gestured decisively, then seeing that Iza was through nursing, she asked, "Can I hold the baby, mother?" The rabbit was a warm and cuddly subst.i.tute, but not when she could hold the real thing.

"All right," Iza said. "Be careful with her, the way I showed you."

Ayla rocked and crooned to the tiny girl as she had done with the rabbit. "What will you name her, Creb?" she asked.

Iza was curious, too, but she would never have asked him. They lived at Creb's fire, were supported by him, and it was his right to name the children born to his hearth.

"I haven't decided, yet. And you must learn not to ask so many questions, Ayla," Creb chided, but he was pleased at her trust in his magical skill, even with a rabbit. He turned to Iza and added, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt if the animal stayed here until its leg is mended, it's a harmless creature."

Iza made a gesture of acquiescence and felt a warm flush of pleasure. She was sure Creb wouldn't object if she began training Ayla, even if he never gave his explicit consent. All Iza really needed to know was that he wouldn't stop her.

"How does she make that sound in her throat, I wonder?" Iza asked, to change the subject, listening to Ayla's humming. "It's not unpleasant, but it is unusual."

"It's another difference between Clan and Others," Creb motioned with an air of imparting a fact of great wisdom to an admiring student, "like not having the memories, or the strange sounds she used to make. She doesn't make them much anymore since she has learned to talk properly."

Ovra arrived at Creb's hearth with their evening meal. Her amazement was no less than Creb's at seeing the rabbit. It increased when Iza let the young woman hold her baby and she saw Ayla pick up the rabbit and rock it as if it were a baby, too. Ovra gave Creb a sidewise glance to check his reaction, but he seemed not to have noticed it. She could hardly wait to tell her mother. Imagine, mothering an animal. Maybe the girl wasn't right in the head. Did she think the animal was human?

Not long afterward, Brun strolled over and signaled Creb that he wanted to talk to him. Creb was expecting it. They walked together toward the entrance fire, away from both hearths.

"Mog-ur," the leader started hesitantly.

"Yes."

"I've been thinking, Mog-ur. It's time to have a mating ceremony. I've decided to give Ovra to Goov, and Droog has agreed to take Aga and her children and will allow Aba to live with him, too," Brun said, not quite knowing how to bring up the subject of the rabbit at Creb's fire.

"I was wondering when you were going to decide to mate them," Creb answered, not offering any comment on the subject he knew Brun wanted to discuss.

"I wanted to wait. I couldn't afford to have two hunters restricted while hunting was good. When do you think will be the best time?" Brun was having difficulty trying not to stare into Creb's rock-outlined territory, and Creb was rather enjoying the leader's discomfiture.

"I will be naming Iza's child soon; we could have the matings then," Creb offered.

"I'll tell them," Brun said. He stood on one foot, then the other, looking up at the high-vaulted ceiling and down at the ground, toward the rear of the cave, and then outside, anyplace except directly at Ayla holding the rabbit. Courtesy demanded that he refrain from looking into another man's hearth, yet for him to know about the rabbit, he obviously had to see it. He was trying to think of an acceptable way to broach the subject. Creb waited.

"Why is there a rabbit at your fire?" Brun motioned quickly. He was at a disadvantage and he knew it. Creb deliberately turned and looked at the people within the limits of his domain. Iza knew full well what was going on. She busied herself with the baby, hoping not to be drawn in. Ayla, the cause of the problem, was oblivious to the whole situation.

"It's a harmless animal, Brun," Creb evaded.

"But why is there an animal in the cave?" the leader retorted.

"Ayla brought it in. Its leg is broken and she wanted Iza to fix it," Creb said as though there was nothing unusual about it.

"No one has ever brought an animal into the cave before," Brun said, frustrated that he couldn't find a stronger objection.

"But what's the harm? It won't be around for long, just until its leg is healed," Creb returned, calmly reasonable.

Brun couldn't think of a good reason to insist that Creb get rid of the animal as long as he was willing to keep it. It was within his hearth. There were no customs forbidding animals in caves; it just hadn't been done before. But that wasn't the real source of his distress. He realized the real problem was Ayla. Ever since Iza had picked up the girl, there had been too many unusual incidents a.s.sociated with her. Everything about her was unprecedented, and she was still a child. What would he have to face when she got older? Brun had no experience, no set of rules to deal with her. But he didn't know how to tell Creb about his doubts either. Creb sensed his brother's uneasiness and tried to give him another reason to let the rabbit stay at his hearth.

"Brun, the clan that hosts the Gathering keeps a cave bear cub in their cave," the magician reminded him.

"But that's different, that's Ursus. That's for the Bear Festival. Cave bears lived in caves even before people, but rabbits don't live in caves."