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“You were attacked by a lynx?” Brun pressed.
“Yes,” Ayla nodded, and told of her close call with the large cat.
“What is your range?” Brun asked. “No, don’t tell me, show me. Do you have your sling?”
Ayla nodded and got up. They all moved to the far end of the clearing where a small brook trickled over a rocky bed. She selected a few pebbles of the right size and shape. Round ones were best for accuracy and distance, but jagged, sharp-edged broken pieces would work.
“The small white rock beside the large boulder at the other end,” she motioned.
Brun nodded. It was easily half again as far as any of them could hurl a stone. She sighted carefully, inserted a stone in her sling, and had a second one in the sling and on its way the next instant. Zoug jogged over to confirm her accuracy.
“There are two fresh chips knocked out of the white stone. She hit the mark both times,” he announced on his return, with a trace of wonder and the barest hint of pride.
She was female, she should never have touched the sling—Clan tradition was absolutely clear on that—but she was good. She gave him credit for teaching her, whether he knew it or not. That double-stone technique, he thought, that’s a trick I’d like to learn. Zoug’s pride was the pride of a true teacher for a pupil who excelled; a student who paid attention, learned well, and then did the master one better. And she had proved him right.
Brun’s eye caught a movement in the clearing.
“Ayla!” he cried. “That rabbit. Get him!”
She glanced in the direction he was pointing, saw the small animal bounding across the field, and dropped him. There was no need to check her accuracy. Brun looked at the girl appreciatively. She’s quick, he thought. The idea of a woman hunting offended the leader’s sense of propriety, but with Brun, the clan always came first; their safety, their security, their prosperity were foremost. In a corner of his mind, he knew what an asset she could be to the clan. No, it’s impossible, he said to himself. It’s against the traditions, it’s not the Clan way.
Creb didn’t have the same appreciation for her skill. If he had any doubts left, her exhibition convinced him. Ayla had been hunting.
“Why did you ever pick up a sling in the first place?” Mog-ur gestured with a bleak, dark look.
“I don’t know,” she shook her head and looked down. More than anything, she hated the thought of the magician’s displeasure.
“You did more than touch it. You hunted with it, killed with it, when you knew it was wrong.”
“My totem gave me a sign, Creb. At least I thought it was a sign.” She was undoing the knots in her amulet. “After I decided to hunt, I found this.” She handed the fossil cast to Mog-ur.
A sign? Her totem gave her a sign? There was consternation among the men. Ayla’s revelation put a new twist on the situation, but why did she decide to hunt?
The magician examined it closely. It was a very unusual stone, shaped like a sea animal, but definitely a stone. It could have been a sign, but that didn’t prove anything. Signs were between a person and his totem; no one could understand another person’s signs. Mog-ur gave it back to the girl.
“Creb,” she said pleadingly. “I thought my totem was testing me. I thought the way Broud treated me was the test. I thought if I could learn to accept it, my totem would let me hunt.” Quizzical glances were cast in the young man’s direction to see his reaction. Did she really think Broud was used by her totem to test her? Broud looked uncomfortable. “I thought when the lynx attacked me, it was a test, too. I almost stopped hunting after that, I was too afraid. Then I got the idea to try two stones, so I would have something to try again if I missed the first time. I even thought my totem gave me the idea.”
“I see,” the holy man said. “I’d like some time to meditate on this, Brun.”
“Maybe we should all think about it. We’ll meet again tomorrow morning,” he announced, “without the girl.”
“What is there to think about?” Broud objected. “We all know the punishment she deserves.”
“Her punishment could be dangerous to the whole clan, Broud. I need to be absolutely sure there isn’t something we’ve overlooked before I condemn her. We will meet again tomorrow.”
As the men returned to the cave, they talked among themselves.
“I never knew of a woman who wanted to hunt,” Droog said. “Could it have something to do with her totem? It’s a male totem.”
“I didn’t want to question Mog-ur’s judgment at the time,” Zoug said, “but I always did wonder about her Cave Lion, even with the marks on her leg. I don’t doubt it anymore. He was right, he always is.”
“Could she be part male?” Crug commented. “There’s been some talk.”
“That would account for her unwomanly ways,” Dorv added.
“She’s female all right, there’s no doubt of that,” Broud said. “She must be killed, everyone knows it.”
“You’re probably right, Broud,” Crug said.
“Even if she is part male, I don’t like the idea of a woman hunting,” Dorv commented dourly. “I don’t even like her being part of the clan. She’s too different.”
“You know I’ve always felt that way, Dorv,” Broud agreed. “I don’t know why Brun wants to talk about it again. If I were leader, I’d just do it and be done with it.”
“It’s not a decision to make lightly, Broud,” Grod said. “What’s your hurry? One more day won’t matter.”
Broud hurried ahead without bothering to respond. That old man is always lecturing, he thought, always sticking up for Brun. Why can’t Brun make a decision? I’ve made up my mind. What good is all this talk? Maybe he’s getting old, too old to lead anymore.
Ayla stumbled back after the men. She went straight to the cave to Creb’s hearth and sat on her sleeping fur, staring into space. Iza tried to coax her to eat, but she just shook her head. Uba wasn’t sure what was going on, but something was troubling the tall, wonderful girl, the special friend she loved and idolized. She went to Ayla and crawled into her lap. Ayla held the small girl, silently rocking her. Somehow Uba knew she was a comfort. She didn’t squirm to get down, she just allowed herself to be held and rocked and finally fell asleep. Iza took the child from Ayla’s arms and put her to bed, then retired to her own, but she didn’t sleep. Her heart was too full of grief for the strange girl she called daughter who sat staring at the glowing coals of the cooling fire.
The morning dawned clear and cold. Ice was forming on the edges of the stream, and a thin film of solidified water covered the still, spring-fed pond near the mouth of the cave in the mornings, usually melted by the time the sun was high. Before very much longer, the clan would be confined to the cave for the winter.
Iza didn’t know if Ayla had slept; she was still sitting on her fur when the woman awoke. The girl was silent, lost in a world of her own, hardly conscious of her own thoughts. She just waited. Creb did not return to his hearth for the second night. Iza saw him shuffle into the dark crevice that was the entrance to his inner sanctum. He didn’t come out again until morning. After the men left, Iza brought the girl some tea, but Ayla didn’t respond to the medicine woman’s gentle questions. When she returned, the tea was still beside the girl, cold and untouched. It’s as though she’s already dead, Iza thought. Her breath caught in her throat as the icy claw of sorrow gripped her heart. It was almost more than Iza could bear.
Brun led the men to a place in the lee of a large boulder, sheltered from the brisk wind, and had a fire built before he opened th
e meeting. The discomfort of sitting in the cold might encourage the men to be hasty, and he wanted to know the full range of their feelings and opinions. When he began, it was in the completely silent symbols used to address spirits, and it told the men this was not a casual gathering, but a formal meeting.
“The girl, Ayla, a member of our clan, used a sling to kill the hyena that attacked Brac. For three years, she has used the weapon. Ayla is female; by Clan tradition, a female who uses a weapon must die. Does anyone have anything they want to say?”
“Droog would speak, Brun.”
“Droog may speak.”
“When the medicine woman found the girl, we were looking for a new cave. The spirits were angry with us and sent an earthquake to destroy our home. Maybe they weren’t so angry, maybe they just wanted a better place, and maybe they wanted us to find the girl. She is strange, unusual, like a sign from a totem. We have been lucky since we found her. I think she brings luck and I think it comes from her totem.
“It’s only part of her strangeness that she was chosen by the Great Cave Lion. We thought she was peculiar because she liked to go into the water of the sea, but if she had not been so peculiar, Ona would be walking the spirit world now. Ona is only a girl, and not even born to my hearth, but I have grown to love her. I would have missed her; I’m grateful she didn’t drown.
“She is strange to us, but we know little of the Others. She is Clan now, but she was not born Clan. I don’t know why she ever wanted to hunt; it’s wrong for Clan women to hunt, but maybe their women do. It doesn’t matter, it was still wrong, but if she hadn’t taught herself to use a sling, Brac would be dead, too. It’s not pleasant to think of the way he would have died. For a hunter to be killed by a meat eater is one thing, but Brac is a baby.
