Ayla didn't say anything, but she thought the rumors might be true.

"In any case, they aren't getting them," Joharran said. "This is our home, Zelandonii territory."

"But there's something else you should know that could work in our fa- vor. According to Cuban-that was the man's name..."

"They have names?" Joharran said.

"Of course they have names," Ayla said, "just like the people in my clan.

His name is Cuban, hers is Yorga." Ayla gave the names the true Clanwas much easier to understand "... told me that some people, I don't know which Caves, have approached some clans with the idea of establishing trading relations."

"Trading! With flatheads!" Joharran said.

"Why not?" Willamar said. "I think it could be interesting. Depends what they have to trade, of course."

"Sounds like the Trade Master talking," Jondalar said.

"Speaking of trading, what are the Losadunai doing about those young men?" Willamar wanted to know. "We trade with them. I'd hate to have some trading party come down off the other side of that glacier and walk into a party of flatheads with revenge on their minds."

"When we... I first heard about it, five years ago, they weren't doing much," Jondalar said, trying to avoid making reference to Thonolan. "They knew it was going on, some of the men were still calling it 'high spirits,' but Laduni became really upset, just talking about it. Then it got worse. We stopped to visit the Losadunai on our way back. The Clan men had started"That's just where they should be sent!" Willamar said.

"They are abominations! I can't even imagine a strong enough punish- ment!" Zelandoni fumed.

Marthona, unable to say anything, had her hand on her chest and< looked appalled.

Ayla had felt deeply for the young woman who had been assaulted and had tried to ease her anguish, but she couldn't help but notice how much more strongly Jondalar's kin had reacted to the news of a young woman of the Others being attacked by the gang than they had when they learned of the attacks on Clan women. When it was Clan women, they were offended, but when it was one of their own, they were outraged.

That, more than anything that had been said or done, made her under- stand the extent of the chasm that separated the two peoples. Then she wondered what their reactions would have been-inconceivable as the idea was to her-if it had been a gang of Clan men... flatheads that had com- mitted such an abominable act on Zelandonii women?"It's her right!" Folara proclaimed.

"Yes, of course, it's her right," Marthona said, "but then some kin or an- other, or the whole Cave, will resist and that could lead to fighting, maybe someone getting killed, and then someone wants revenge for that. Who knows where it would end up? What are they going to do, Jondalar?"

"Several Cave leaders sent runners with messages, and many of them got together and talked. They've agreed to send out trackers, find the young men, separate them to break up the gang, and then each Cave is going to deal with their own member individually. They will be severely punished, I imagine, but they'll be given a chance to make restitution," Jon- dalar explained.

"I'd say that's a good plan, especially if they all agree to it, including the Cave of the instigator," Joharran said, "and if the young men come peaceably, once they've been found..."rock to scout game and jumped down when they attacked his woman.

Broke his leg, but it didn't stop him from trying to fight them off. We hap- pened upon them then; it was not far from the glacier we were getting ready to cross." Jondalar smiled. "Between Ayla, Wolf, and me, not to men- tion the two Clan people, we chased them off in a hurry. There's not much fight left in those boys. And with Wolf and the horses, and the fact that we knew who they were, when they had never seen us before, well, I think we put a scare in them."

"Yes," Zelandoni said thoughtfully. "I can see how it would."

"You would have scared me," Joharran said with a wry smile.

"Then Ayla convinced the Clan man to let her set his broken leg," Jon- dalar continued. "We camped together for a couple of days. I made him a couple of sticks to lean on and help him walk, and he decided to go home. I was able to talk to him a little, though Ayla did most of it. I think I became something like a brother to him," he said.

"It occurs to me," Marthona said, "that if there is a possibility of trouble with-what do they call themselves? Clan people?-and they can commu-the idea of talking to flatheads, or calling them something else, and I'm not the only one who's going to have trouble," Joharran said. He paused, then shook his head as if to himself. "If they talk with their hands, how do you know they're really talking and not just waving their arms around?"

Everyone looked at Ayla. She turned to Jondalar. "I think you should show them," he said, "and maybe you could talk at the same time, the way you did when you were talking to Guban and translating for me."

"What should I say?"

"Why not just greet them, as if you were speaking for Guban?" ; he said.

Ayla thought for a time. She couldn't really greet them the way Guban would. He was a man, and a woman would never greet anyone the same way a man would. She could make a greeting sign, that gesture was al- ways the same, but one never made only a greeting sign. It was always modified depending on who was making it and to whom it was being made.

And there really was no sign for a person of the Clan to greet one of the Others. It had never been done before, not in a formal, acknowledged way.Jondalar suggested.

She nodded and started over. "This woman... called Ayla, would greet you, Children of Doni, the Great Earth Mother." She said her own name and that of the Mother in verbal sounds, but with the inflection and tonal quality of the Clan. The rest was communicated with signs in formal Clan language and spoken in Zelandonii.

"This woman would hope that at some time you would be greeted by one of the Clan of the Cave Bear, and that the greeting would be returned.

The Mog-ur told this woman the Clan is ancient, the memories go deep.

The Clan was here when the new ones came.

They named the new ones, the Others, the ones who were not Clan.

The Clan chose to go their own way, to avoid the Others. That is the Clan way and Clan traditions change slowly, yet some of the Clan would begin to change, would make new traditions. If that is to be, this woman would hope that the change would harm neither Clan nor Others."The total effect was startling, and beautiful; it sent a shiver down Mar- thona's back. She glanced at Zelandoni, who caught her quick look and nodded. She, too, had felt something profound. Jondalar noticed the dis- creet byplay; he was watching those who were watching Ayla and could see the impression she was making. Joharran was staring in rapt attention with a frown creasing his forehead; Willamar had a slight smile and was nodding approval; Folara's smile was unabashed. She was so delighted, he had to smile, too.

When she was done, Ayla sat down at the table again, lowering herself to a cross-legged position with an elegant ease that was more noticeable after her performance. There was an uneasy silence around the table. No one knew quite what to say, and each felt they needed time to think. Finally Folara felt compelled to fill the void.

"That was wonderful, Ayla! Beautiful, almost like a dance," she said.

"It's hard for me to think of it that way. It's the way they talk. Although I remember that I used to love to watch the storytellers," Ayla said."Rydag, wasn't that the child with the bad heart?" Zelandoni asked.

"Why couldn't he talk like everyone else?"a Jondalar and Ayla looked at each other. "Rydag was half Clan, and had the same difficulty making sounds that they do," Ayla said. "So I taught him and the Lion Camp his language."

"Half Clan?" Joharran said. "You mean half flathead? A half flat-head abomination!"

"He was a child!" Ayla said, glaring at him in anger. "Just like any other child. No child is an abomination!"

Joharran was surprised at her reaction, then recalled that she had been raised by them and understood why she would feel offended. He tried to stutter an apology. "I... I... I'm sorry. It's what everyone thinks."

Zelandoni stepped in to calm the situation. "Ayla, you must remember, we haven't had time to consider everything you have said. We have always thought of your Clan people as animals, and something half human andfor a way to ask her questions without offending the stranger. "The person named Nezzie was the mate of the headman of the Lion Camp, is that cor- rect?"

"Yes." Ayla could see where she was leading and glanced at Jondalar.

She felt sure he was trying to repress a smile. It made her feel better; he knew, too, and was taking some perverse delight in the discomfiture of the powerful donier.

"This child, this Rydag, was hers?"

Jondalar almost wished Ayla would say yes, just to make them think. It had taken a lot for him to overcome the beliefs of his people, bred into him since childhood, practically with his mother's milk. If they thought a woman who had given birth to an "abomination" could become the mate of a headman, it might shake that belief a bit, and the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that for their own good, for their own safety, his people had to change, had to accept the fact that the Clan were people, too.as each one paused to consider what had just been learned.

Wolf had stayed behind in the valley where the horses were grazing to explore the new territory. After a time that was appropriate to him and for his own reasons, he decided to return to the place that Ayla had made him understand was home, the place he should go when he wanted to find her.

Like all of his kind, the wolf moved with efficient speed and such effortless grace, he seemed to be floating as he loped through the wooded land- scape. Several people were in Wood River Valley picking berries. One man caught a glimpse of Wolf moving like a silent wraith between the trees.

"That wolf is coming! And he's by himself!" the man shouted. He scram- bled out of the way as fast as he could.

"Where's my baby?" a woman cried in a panic. She looked around, saw her toddler, and ran to pick her up and carry her away.

When Wolf reached the path that led to the ledge, he ran up it with the same supple, fast-moving pace.reached the ledge at the top of the path and headed directly for Marthona's dwelling. One man knocked over several spear shafts when he bumped into them in his hurry to put plenty of clearance between himself and the efficient, four-legged hunter. The wolf sensed the fear of the people around him and didn't like it, but he continued toward the location Ayla had indi- cated he was to go.

The silence within Marthona's dwelling was shattered when Willamar, catching sight of the entrance drape moving, suddenly jumped up and shouted. "There's a wolf! Great Mother, how did that wolf get here?"

"It's all right, Willamar," Marthona said, trying to calm him. "He's allowed in here." Folara caught her eldest brother's eye and smiled, and though Joharran was still nervous around the animal, he could give her a knowing smile back.

"That's Ayla's wolf," Jondalar said, getting up to ward off any hasty re- actions as Ayla rushed to the entrance to settle the animal, who had been more scared than Willamar to be greeted by such loud, frantic noise in the place he had been shown to come. Wolf's tail was between his legs, his hackles were raised, and his teeth were bared.She watched with amazement as Ayla fearlessly hurried toward Wolf, stooped down, put her arms around him, and held him, speaking words, only some of which she understood, seeking to calm the animal. The wolf first became excited, and licked the neck and face of the woman while she fondled him, then did indeed calm down. It was the most unbelievable demonstration of supernatural powers she had ever witnessed. Just what kind of mysterious ability did this woman possess to command that kind of control over such an animal? She felt gooseflesh raise at the thought.

Willamar had calmed down as well, with the encouragement of Mar- thona and Jondalar, and after seeing Ayla with the wolf.

"I think Willamar should meet Wolf, don't you, Ayla?" Marthona said.

"Especially since they are going to be sharing the same dwelling," Jon- dalar said. Willamar gaped at him with an amazed look of disbelief.

Ayla stood up and walked toward them, signaling Wolf to follow closely.

"The way Wolf gets acquainted is to become familiar with your scent. If you hold out your hand to let him smell it..." she started to say, reaching for his hand.Willamar was still a bit hesitant, but he could hardly do less than Mar- thona had, and put his hand forward. Ayla introduced Wolf in the usual manner, saying for the man's benefit, as the wolf took in his scent, "Wolf, this is Willamar. He lives here with Marthona." The wolf licked him, then gave a little yip.

"Why did he do that?" Willamar asked, drawing his hand back quickly.

"I'm not sure, but perhaps he smelled Marthona on you, and he warmed to her very quickly," Ayla suggested. "Try petting or scratching him." As though Willamar's tentative scratching only tickled, Wolf suddenly curled up and vigorously scratched behind his own ear, bringing smiles and chuckles at his rather undignified posture. When he was through, he went straight to Zelandoni.

She eyed him warily, but stood her ground. She had been terrified when the wolf appeared at the entrance of the dwelling. Jondalar was more aware of her reaction than the others. He had seen her petrified fear. They had been concerned about Willamar, who had jumped up and shouted, and hadn't noticed the quiet terror of the woman. She was just as glad they hadn't. One Who Served The Mother was thought of as fearless, and in"I think you're right. What is it that I'm supposed to do, give him my hand?" she said, thrusting it toward the wolf. He sniffed, then licked, then, with no warning, took her hand with his teeth and held it in his mouth with a low growl.

"What's he doing?" Folara said. She hadn't officially met him, either. "He only used his teeth with Ayla, before."

"I'm not sure," Jondalar said with a note of concern.

Zelandoni looked sternly at Wolf, and he let go.

"Did he hurt you?" Folara asked. "Why did he do that?"

"No, of course he didn't hurt me. He did it to let me know that I have nothing to fear from him," Zelandoni said, making no attempt to scratch him. "We understand each other." Then she contemplated Ayla, who re- turned her gaze. "And we have a lot to learn about each other."

"Yes, we do, I'm looking forward to it," she replied.she said, then, turning to the donier, "and Zelandoni, although I already feel that I know you both."

Marthona stepped forward. "Of course. I had forgotten that you haven't formally met them. Ayla, this is Willamar, Renowned Traveler and Trade Master of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, Mated to Marthona, Man of the Hearth to Folara, Blessed of Doni." Then she looked at the man. "Willamar, please welcome Ayla of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth, Chosen by the Spirit of the Cave Lion, Protected by the Cave Bear," she smiled at the animal, "and Friend of Wolf, and two horses," she added.

After the incidents and stories that Ayla had just told, Jondalar's kin un- derstood the meanings of her names and ties more and felt they knew her better. It made her seem less of a stranger. Willamar and Ayla grasped both hands and greeted each other in the name of the Mother with the phrases of the formal introduction, except that Willamar referred to her as "mother" rather than "friend of Wolf." Ayla had noticed that people seldom repeated introductions exactly, often adding their own variation.Jondalar decided that he should be the one to formally introduce Ayla and Zelandoni. "Ayla, this is Zelandoni, First Among Those Who Serve The Great Earth Mother, the Voice of Doni, Surrogate of She Who Blesses, the Donier, Giver of Help and Healing, Instrument of the Original Ancestor, Spiritual Leader of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, and Friend of Jondalar once known as Zolena." He said the last with a smile. It was not one of her usual titles.

"Zelandoni, this is Ayla of the Mamutoi," he began, and at the end added "soon to be mated to Jondalar, I hope."

It's a good thing he said "I hope," Zelandoni said to herself as she stepped forward with both hands extended. This mating hasn't been ap- proved yet. "As the Voice of Doni, Great Earth Mother, I welcome you, Ayla of the Mamutoi, Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth," she said, taking both of Ayla's hands in hers and naming what to her were the most important titles.

"In the name of Mut, Mother of All, who is also Doni, I greet you, Zelan- doni, First Among Those Who Serve The Great Earth Mother," Ayla said.

As the two women faced each other, Jondalar fervently hoped that they would become good friends. He would never want either as an enemy.rest before the celebration.

"I feel so dirty and hot from traveling. There is nothing I'd like better right now than to go for a swim, to cool off, and wash. Does soaproot grow nearby?"

"It does," Marthona said. "Jondalar, behind the big rock upstream along The River a short distance from Wood River Valley. You know where that is, don't you?"

"Yes, I know. Wood River Valley is where the horses are, Ayla. I'll show you the place. A swim does sound good." Jondalar put an arm around Marthona. "And it's good to be home, mother. I really don't think I want to travel again for a long time."

"I want to get my comb and I think I still have some dried ceanothus flowers left, to wash my hair," Ayla said, opening her traveling packs. "And the chamois skin from Roshario to dry off with," she added, pulling it out.down her towel and other things, and pulling loose the ties of another bun- dle.

They quickly made a sleeping place and set out the few other posses- sions they had with them, then Ayla shook out the tunic and short pants she had been keeping aside. She examined the outfit closely. It was made of soft, supple buckskin, cut in a simple Mamutoi style, but was undeco- rated, and though clean, it was stained. Even with washing, it was difficult to get stains out of the velvety-textured nap of the leather, but it was the only thing she had to wear to the feast. Traveling limited the amount one could take, even with horses to help with transport, and she had wanted to bring other things that were more important to her than changes of clothing.

Ayla noticed that Marthona was watching her and said, "This is all I have to wear tonight. I hope it will be all right. I couldn't bring much with me.

Roshario gave me a beautiful decorated outfit made in the Sharamudoi style out of that wonderful leather they make, but I gave it to Madenia, that young Losadunai woman who was attacked so brutally."

"That was kind of you," the woman said."No, I wouldn't object at all. I'd appreciate it." Ayla smiled. "Everything you have here is so beautiful, Marthona, and I don't know what is appropri- ate for Zelandoni women to wear."

"Can I help, too?" Folara added. "Mother's ideas about clothes are not always what younger women like."

"I'd love to have help from both of you, but this will have to do for now,"

Ayla said, holding up her worn outfit.

"It will certainly be fine for tonight," Marthona said. Then she nodded to herself, as though making a decision. "I have something I would like to give you, Ayla. It's in my sleeping room."

Ayla followed Marthona into her room. "I have been saving this for you for a long time," the woman said as she opened a covered wooden box.

"But you just met me!" Ayla exclaimed."It is beautiful," Ayla breathed. She felt particularly drawn to the pen- dant, and she looked at it carefully. It was shiny, polished from being worn and handled. "This is amber, isn't it?"

"Yes. That stone has been in the family for many generations. Dalanar's mother made it into this necklace. She gave it to me when Jondalar was born and told me to give it to the woman he chose."

"Amber is not cold like other stones," Ayla said, holding the pendant in her hand. "It feels warm, as though it has a living spirit."

"How interesting that you should say that. Dalanar's mother always said this piece had life," Marthona said. "Try it on. See how it looks on you."

Marthona guided Ayla toward the limestone wall of her sleeping room. A hole had been dug out of it, and wedged into the hole wast he round end that grew out of the horn core of a megaceros, then extended and flattened out into the typical palmate antler. The tines of the projecting antler had been broken off, leaving a slightly uneven shelf with a concave scalloped edge. Resting on top and leaning against the somewhat forward slopingwood had been rubbed smooth with sandstone, dyed a deep black with oxides of manganese, and polished with fat to a high sheen.

"Haven't you ever seen a reflector?" Folara asked. She was standing just inside the room, near the panel at the entrance, dying of curiosity to see the gift her mother was giving to Ayla.

"Not like this. I've looked in a still pool of water on a sunny day," Ayla said, "but this is right here, in your sleeping room!"

"Don't the Mamutoi have reflectors? To see how they look when they dress for some important occasion?" Folara asked. "How do they know if everything is right?"

Ayla frowned in thought for a moment. "They look at each other. Nezzie always made sure Talut had everything on right before ceremonies, and when Deegie-she was my friend-arranged my hair, everyone made nice comments," Ayla explained.

"Well, let's see how the necklace looks on you, Ayla," Marthona said, putting it around her neck and holding the back closed.Ayla had grown up among the Clan thinking of herself as big and ugly because, although she was thinner-boned than the women of the Clan, she was taller than the men, and she looked different, both in their eyes and her own. She was more accustomed to judging beauty in terms of the stronger features of the Clan, with their long broad faces and sloped-back fore- heads, heavy overhanging browridges, sharp prominent noses, and large, richly colored brown eyes. Her own blue-gray eyes seemed faded in com- parison.

After she had lived among the Others for a while, she didn't feel that she looked so strange anymore, but she still could not see herself as beautiful, though Jondalar had told her often enough that she was. She knew what was considered attractive to the Clan; she didn't quite know how to define beauty in terms of the Others. To her, Jondalar, with his masculine and therefore stronger features and vivid blue eyes was far more beautiful than she.

"I think it suits her," Willamar said. He had strolled over to add his opin- ion. Even he hadn't known Marthona had the necklace. It was her dwelling that he had moved into; she had made room for him and his possessions,mate. The one with whom you would make a hearth, to which she could bring her children-with the blessing of the Mother," she replied, taking the necklace from around Ayla's neck and putting it into her hands.

"Well, you've given it to the right person," he said. "Are you going to wear it tonight, Ayla?"