"His life had begun. She nourished Her son."
This story seems so familiar, Ayla thought. She shook her head as though trying to make something fall into place. Jondalar, he told me some of this on our Journey here.The Mother gave love, but the youth longed for more, For knowledge, excitement, to travel, explore."
"Chaos was Her foe. But Her son yearned to go."
Ayla's mind kept nagging at her. It's not just Jondalar, she thought. I feel as if I know this, or at least the essence of it. But where could I have learned it? Then something clicked. Losaduna! I memorized all kinds of things he taught me! There was one story like this about the Mother. Jon- dalar even recited parts of it during that ceremony. It wasn't exactly the same, and it was in their language, but Losadunai is close to Zelandonii.
That's why I was able to understand what they said so fast! As she listened, she concentrated on bringing the memory of the Mother's story back and began to feel a sense of the similarities and differences.
"He stole from Her side as the Great Mother slept, While out of the dark swirling void chaos crept.
With tempting inducements the darkness beguiled.
Deceived by the whirlwind, chaos captured Her child."
"The dark took Her son. The young brilliant one."
"The Mother's bright child, at first overjoyed,The Mother appealed to the pale shining one. "
"The Mother held tight. And kept him in sight."
Ayla began to smile as she started anticipating the next verse, or at least the essential meaning of it. The Mother Earth tells Her old friend, the Moon, the story of what happened to Her son next, Ayla thought.
"She welcomed him back, Her lover of old, With heartache and sorrow, Her story She told.
Her dear friend agreed to join in the fight, To rescue Her child from his perilous plight."
And now the listeners say it their way, Ayla said to herself. That's how the story is supposed to be told. First the Losaduna, or the Zelandoni, nar- rates it, then the listeners answer or repeat it another way.
"She told of Her grief. And the dark swirling thief. "
Then it's Zelandoni's turn again.
"The Mother was tired, She had to recover,Then darkness crept close, stole his light from the sky."
"Her pale friend was tiring. His light was expiring. "
"When darkness was total, She woke with a cry.
The tenebrious void hid the light from the sky.
She joined in the conflict, was quick to defend, And drove the dark shadow away from Her friend."
"But the pale face of night. Let Her son out of sight."
"Trapped by the whirlwind, Her bright fiery son, Gave no warmth to the Earth, cold chaos had won.
The fertile green life was now ice and snow, And a sharp piercing wind continued to blow."
"The Earth was bereft. No green plants were left."
"The Mother was weary, grieving and worn, But She reached out again for the life She had borne.
She couldn't give up, She needed to strive, For the glorious light of Her son to survive."
"She continued the fight. To bring back the light.""But the bleak frigid dark craved his bright glowing heat.
The Mother defended and would not retreat.
The whirlwind pulled hard, She refused to let go.
She fought to a draw with Her dark swirling foe."
"She held darkness at bay. But Her son was away. "
Was the Zelandonii version longer than the Losadunai story? Or did it just seem that way? Maybe singing the story makes it seem longer, but I really like the singing. I wish I understood it more. I think the songs change sometimes, the singing of some verses doesn't sound the same as other verses.
"When She fought the whirlwind and made chaos flee, The light from Her son glowed with vitality.
When the Mother grew tired, the bleak void held sway, And darkness returned at the end of the day."
"She felt warmth from Her son. But neither had won."
"The Great Mother lived with the pain in Her heart, That She and Her son were forever apart."Birth waters brought green. But Her tears could be seen."
I really like this next part, but I wonder how Zelandoni will sing it, Ayla thought.
"With a thunderous roar Her stones split asunder, And from the great cave that opened deep under, She birthed once again from Her cavernous room, And brought forth the Children of Earth from Her womb."
"From the Mother forlorn, more children were born."
"Each child was different, some were large and some small, Some could walk and some fly, some could swim and some crawl.
But each form was perfect, each spirit complete, Each one was a model whose shape could repeat."
"The Mother was willing. The green earth was filling."
"All the birds and the fish and the animals born, Would not leave the Mother, this time, to mourn.
Each kind would live near the place of its birth, And share the expanse of the Great Mother Earth.""First Woman was born full-grown and alive, And given the Gifts she would need to survive.
Life was the First Gift, and like Mother Earth, She woke to herself knowing life had great worth."
"First Woman defined. The first of her kind."
"Next was the Gift of Perception, of learning, The desire to know, the Gift of Discerning.
First Woman was given the knowledge within, That would help her to live, and pass on to her kin."
"First Woman would know. How to learn, how to grow."
"Her life-force near gone, The Mother was spent, To pass on Life's Spirit had been Her intent.
She caused all of Her children to create life anew, And Woman was blessed to bring forth life, too."
"But Woman was lonely. She was the only."
"The Mother remembered Her own loneliness, The love of Her friend and his hovering caress.
With the last spark remaining, Her labor began,"For the Children of Earth the Mother provided, The Gifts to survive, and then She decided, To give them the Gift of Pleasure and sharing, That honors the Mother with the joy of their pairing. "
"The Gifts are well-earned. When honor's returned."
"The Mother was pleased with the pair She created, She taught them to love and to care when they mated.
She made them desire to join with each other, The Gift of their Pleasures came from the Mother."
"Before She was through. Her children loved too."
"Earths Children were blessed. The Mother could rest."
Ayla waited for more, but when there was only silence, she realized the Mother's Song had come to an end.
People straggled back to their Caves in twos and threes. Some would not return to their homes until the middle of the night, some made plans to stay with friends or relatives. A few acolytes and Zelandonia remained be-invasion by the roaming spirits and needed the protection of many people to ward off malign influences. Older people in particular were sometimes tempted to follow their mates' elans to the next world shortly after one of them died. Fortunately, Relona was young yet and had young children who needed her.
Ayla was one of those who stayed with the new widow, and Relona seemed pleased that she did. Jondalar had planned to stay as well, but by the time he completed the last of his ceremonial duties, it was quite late, and when he looked inside the dwelling, there were so many people sprawled out, he couldn't see any room to squeeze in his large frame. Ayla waved at him from the other side of the room. Wolf was with her, and probably because of him, she had a little more room around her, but when he tried to step around people to reach her, he woke a few up. Marthona, who was closer to the entrance, told him to go home. He felt a bit guilty about it, but was grateful. Overnight vigils to ward off wandering spirits were not something he enjoyed. Besides, he'd had enough dealings with the spirit world for one day, and he was tired. He missed having Ayla be- side him when he crawled into his sleeping roll, but he fell asleep quickly.Jondalar awoke with a strong urge to make some tools. Although he might not have expressed it as such, he was still feeling uneasy about all the arcane events he'd recently been involved with. Flint-knapping was not only his craft, it was something he enjoyed, and getting his hands on a solid piece of stone was a good way to forget about the ambiguous, intangible, and vaguely ominous spirit world.
He took out the pack of flint that he had quarried from the Lanzadoni flint mine. Dalanar had looked over the material that Jondalar had extracted from the outcrop, which contained the superior-quality flint that the Lan- zadoni were known for. He made specific suggestions regarding what pieces to take with him and helped him trim away excess material, so that all he'd had to carry with him were workable blanks and cores. Horses could carry a great deal more than people, but flint was heavy. There was a limit to the amount of stone that could be taken, but when he examined the flint he had, he appreciated again just how fine it was.
He selected two of the trimmed stones and put the others back, then brought out his leather bundle of flint-working tools. He untied the cords and laid out several bone and antler hammers and retouchers, and his hammerstones, then picked up each tool and inspected it carefully. Thendwelling. Looking toward the ledge, he noticed that the sky was overcast and gray. A dreary drizzle kept almost everyone under the rock shelter, and the large open area near the dwellings was in full use. There were no par- ticular times for pursuing individual crafts and interests, but it was the kind of day that many chose to work on their various projects. Windbreaks of panels, or hides strung over cords, were put up to keep out wind and any rain it might blow in, and several fires provided additional light and warmth, though cold drafts made warm clothes essential.
He smiled when he saw Ayla coming toward him. When they met, he greeted her with a touching of cheeks and noticed her womanly scent. It made him remember that he hadn't slept with her the night before. He felt a sudden desire to take her back to bed and do more than sleep.
"I was just going to Marthona's to look for you," she said.
"I woke up with an urge to work the stone I got from Dalanar's flint mine, to make some new tools," he said, holding up his familiar leather bundle.
"But it looks like everyone wanted to work on something this morning." He glanced toward the crowded and busy work space. "I don't think I'll stay here.""Not unless you want to," Ayla said. "I'm just going to check on them. I don't think I'll ride today, but I may take Folara with me and see if she wants to try sitting on Whinney. I told her she could sometime, and she said she'd like to."
"It might be fun to see how she does, but I really would like to work on some tools today," Jondalar said.
They walked together as far as the working area, then Jondalar went on toward Down River, while Ayla and the wolf stopped to look for Folara. The drizzle had turned to a steady rain, and while she waited for it to let up, she found herself watching first one person and then another as they worked on their various projects. She had always been fascinated with different crafts and skills and was easily distracted. It was a busy but relaxed atmosphere.
Certain aspects of every craft required intense concentration, but repetitive elements allowed time to chat and visit. Most people were pleased to an- swer her questions, show her their techniques, and explain their methods.
When Ayla saw Folara, she was in the middle of stringing a loom with Marthona and not able to come to a good stopping place easily, though she would have liked to go. Ayla wouldn't have minded staying to see how thestand when it rained. The red deer that were sharing it with them broke away at the sight of the woman and the wolf at the same time that the horses neighed and ran toward them.
Those deer have been hunted, Ayla thought. They might have stopped and eyed Wolf, but it's not likely that full-grown deer in their prime would run from a single wolf. The wind is taking my scent right to them, and I think they have found more to fear from human hunters.
The sun had come out, and she found some of the previous year's dried flower heads of teasel and used the prickly herb top to curry the horses'
coats. When she was done, she noticed Wolf stalking. She reached for her sling, which was tucked into her waist thong, and a pebble from the rocky edge of the pond, and when he scared up a couple of hares, she got one of the large rabbits with her first try. She let Wolf get the other.
A cloud cast a shadow over the sun. She looked up and noticed the placement of the sun in the sky, and realized that the time had passed quickly. Things had been so busy the past few days, she felt good having no demands on her or her time. But when it started to sprinkle, she decided to ride Whinney back to the Ninth Cave. Racer and Wolf followed. She wasbetter manners by avoiding looking at them. But she did have the Clan woman's skill of glancing unobtrusively yet taking in a great deal of infor- mation with quick glimpses. She noticed that they were making comments to each other, and she thought she smelled barma.
Farther on, she saw some people in various stages of curing hides, both bison and deer. They probably found the usual work area too crowded, too, she thought. She brought the horses almost to the end of the ledge, near the small stream that separated the Ninth Cave from Down River, and thought that it could be a good place to build a shelter for them before win- ter. She'd have to talk to Jondalar about it. Then she showed them the trail that led down to the bank of The River and left them to see what they would decide to do. Wolf decided to go with the horses when they started down the trail. Raining or not, they preferred grazing near The River to staying up on the barren ledge just to keep dry.
She thought about going on to see Jondalar, then changed her mind and went back to where they were working on hides. People were glad for an excuse to take a break, and for some of them to talk to the woman that a wolf followed and from whom horses didn't run away. She noticed that"If there's room, I'd like to skin this hare quickly," Ayla said to the group in general.
"There's plenty of room," Portula said. "And I'd be glad to let you use some of my tools, if you need them."
"I would, Portula, thank you for offering. I do have many tools, I live with Jondalar, after all," Ayla said with a wry smile. Several people smiled back knowingly. "But I don't have them with me."
Ayla liked the feeling of having people around her all busily engaged in tasks at which they were skilled. What a difference from the lonely days in her cave in the valley. This was more like her childhood in Brun's clan with everyone working together.
She quickly gutted and skinned the hare, then asked, "Do you mind if I leave these here for now? I need to go Down River. I'll pick them up on my way back."dalar with several others under the shelter of the first abri. The place had obviously been used to knap flint for a long time. The ground was thick with the sharp-edged chips and flakes left from the process of knapping flint. It would not be wise to walk there with bare feet.
"There you are," Jondalar said. "We were just getting ready to go back.
Joharran was here and said Proleva has organized a meal using meat from one of the bison. She does that so well and so often, people are going to get too used to it, I'm afraid. But everybody has been busy today, and she decided it would be easier. You can walk back with us, Ayla."
"I didn't realize it was so close to midday," she said. As they started to- ward the Ninth Cave, Ayla saw Joharran ahead of them. She hadn't seen him coming this way. He must have passed by me when I was talking to Portula and the others, and skinning that hare, she thought. She noticed him heading toward the rude men who were sitting around the fire.
Joharran had seen Laramar and some others, gambling, when he was hurrying to tell the craftspeople at Down River about the meal that Proleva had arranged. He recalled thinking how lazy they were, gaming while eve- ryone else was busy, probably using wood someone else had collected, but"That woman is no healer. Shevonar died, didn't he?" Laramar agreed.
"You weren't there, Laramar!" Joharran interrupted, trying to keep his temper under control. "As usual, you couldn't be bothered to join the hunt."
"I was sick," the man said defensively.
"Sick from your own barma," Joharran said. "I'm telling you, no one could have saved Shevonar. Not Zelandoni, not the most skilled healer that ever lived. He had been trampled by a bison. What man can bear the full weight of a bison? If it hadn't been for Ayla, I doubt that he would have survived until Relona arrived. She found a way to ease his pain. Ayla did as much as anyone could. Why are you spreading malicious rumors about her? What has she ever done to you?" They stopped talking when Ayla and Jondalar and several others walked past.
"Why are you sneaking around listening to private conversations?"
Laramar countered, still defensive.
"Walking up to you in full daylight is hardly sneaking, Laramar. I came here to tell you that Proleva and some of the others have prepared someThe tight little group broke up and followed him toward the other end of the ledge. Some of them agreed with Joharran, at least as far as giving Ayla a chance to prove herself, but a few didn't want to or could not over- come their prejudice. Laramar, though he had been agreeable with the man who had been talking loudly against her, really didn't care one way or the other. He tended to go along with whatever way was easiest.
As Ayla walked with the group from Down River toward the work area, staying under the protective overhanging shelf when it started raining harder again, she thought about all the different talents and abilities that people enjoyed exercising to occupy themselves. Many people liked to make things, although the choice of materials they worked with were quite varied. Some, like Jondalar, liked to work with flint to craft tools and hunting weapons, some liked working with wood, or ivory, or bone, some liked working with fibers, or hides. It came to her that some, like Joharran, en- joyed working with people.
As they got closer and her nose detected wonderful cooking odors, Ayla realized that cooking and working with food was also a task some people enjoyed. Proleva's penchant for organizing community gatherings was ob-adjacent area was being set up for a task that may not have been quite as enjoyable but needed to be done. Several nets for drying the meat they had hunted had been stretched out a couple of feet above the ground between upright posts. There was a layer of soil on the stone surface of the abri and its front porch, shallow in some areas, but deep enough to support posts in others. Some uprights were permanently wedged into cracks in the stone or supported by post holes dug into the soil. Piles of rocks were often added for additional bracing.
Other similar constructions, obviously made for the same purpose, were simply pegged and lashed together, making them essentially portable food drying racks. They could be lifted up and leaned against the back wall to get them out of the way when not in use. But when meat or vegetables needed to be dried, the portable frames could be placed anywhere on the floor they wanted. Occasionally meat was dried for preservation near the place it was killed, or on the grassy floodplain below, but when it rained, or just because people wanted to work closer to their homes, they developed ways to support drying cords or netting.
A few small tongue-shaped pieces of meat were already hanging on the drying racks, and small, rather smoky fires were burning nearby, to keepThe tall man turned to look at his approaching brother. "I think so," he said. "I wonder what happened?" He would ask later, he thought.
They glanced at each other, then strolled over to join Joharran, Proleva, her son, Jaradal, Marthona, and Willamar. They were greeted warmly, and a place was made for them. It did seem obvious that the leader was not happy about something, but he did not seem to want to talk about it, at least not with them. They all smiled in welcome when Zelandoni decided to join them, too. She had spent the morning in her dwelling, but came out when people gathered to eat.
"Can I get you something?" Proleva asked.