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Mog-ur never spoke of Ayla’s clandestine visit to the small chamber deep in the mountain—except once. She was packing, getting ready to depart the next morning, when Creb shuffled into the second cave. He had been avoiding her, and it hurt the young woman who loved him. He stopped short when he saw her, and turned to leave, but she cut off his departure by rushing up and sitting at his feet. He looked down at her bowed head, heaved a sigh, and tapped her shoulder.
She looked up, shocked to see how much he had aged in just a few days. The disfiguring scar and flap of skin that covered his empty eye socket were shriveled and sunk deeper into the shadow of his overhanging brow ridges. His gray beard hung limp from his prognathous jaw, and his low, back-slanted forehead was emphasized by a receding hairline; but it was the dark sorrow in his one, liquid, deep brown eye that overwhelmed her. What had she done to him? She wished fervently she could take back her trip into the cave that night. The hurt she felt for Creb when she saw his body racked with pain was nothing to the anguish she felt for the pain in Mog-ur’s soul.
“What is it, Ayla?” he motioned.
“Mog-ur, I … I …” she fumbled, then rushed on. “Oh, Creb. I can’t stand to see you hurting so. What can I do? I’ll go to Brun, if you want, I’ll do anything you ask. Just tell me what to do.”
What can you do, Ayla, he thought. Can you change who you are? Can you take back the damage you did? The Clan will die, only you and your kind will be left. We are an ancient people. We have kept our traditions, honored the spirits and Great Ursus, but it is over for us, finished. Maybe it was meant to be. Maybe it wasn’t you, Ayla, but your kind. Is that why you were brought to us? To tell me? The earth we leave is beautiful and rich; it gave us all we needed for all the generations we have lived. How will you leave it when it is your turn? What can you do?
“There is one thing you can do, Ayla,” The Mog-ur gestured slowly, emphasizing every movement. His eye turned cold. “You can never mention it again.”
He stood as tall as his one good leg would allow, trying not to lean too much on his staff. Then, with all the pride in himself and his People he could gather, he turned with stiff dignity and walked out of the cave.
“Broud!”
The young man strode over to the man who had greeted him. The women of Brun’s clan were hurrying to finish the morning meal, they planned to leave as soon as they ate, and the men were taking one last opportunity to talk to people they would not see again for seven years. Some they would never see again. They were lingering over the details of the exciting meeting to make it last just a little longer.
“You did well this time, Broud, and by the next Gathering, you will be leader.”
“Next time you may do as well,” Broud gestured, puffing up with pride. “We were just lucky.”
“You are lucky. Your clan is first, your mog-ur is first, even your medicine woman is first. You know, Broud, you’re lucky to have Ayla. Not many medicine women would brave a cave bear to save a hunter.”
Broud scowled slightly, then saw Voord and walked over to him.
“Voord!” he hailed, motioning a greeting. “You did well this time. I was glad when they chose you over Nouz. He was all right, but you were definitely better.”
“But you deserved to be first choice, Broud. You ran a good race, too. Your whole clan deserves its place; even your medicine woman is best, though I had my doubts at first. She’ll be a good medicine woman to have around when you are leader. I only hope she doesn’t get any taller. Between you and me, I feel strange having to look up at a woman.”
“Yes, the woman is too tall,” Broud said with stiff gestures.
“But what does it matter, as long as she’s a good medicine woman, right?”
Broud barely nodded, then waved aside further discussion and walked away. Ayla, Ayla, I’m getting tired of Ayla, he thought, heading across the cleared space.
“Broud, I wanted to see you before you left,” a man said, walking over to meet him halfway. “You know there is a woman in my clan with a daughter deformed like the son of your medicine woman. I talked to Brun and he has agreed to accept her, but he wanted me to talk to you. You’ll most likely be leader by then. The mother has promised to raise her daughter to be a good woman, worthy of the first clan and the son of the first medicine woman. You don’t have any objections, do you, Broud? It’s a logical match.”
“No,” Broud gestured curtly and turned on his heel. If he hadn’t been so angry, he might have objected, but he didn’t feel like getting into a discussion about Ayla.
“By the way, that was a good race, Broud.”
The young man didn’t see the comment, his back was already turned. As he stalked toward the cave, he saw two women avidly engrossed in conversation. He knew he should look away to avoid seeing what they were saying, but he just stared straight ahead, affecting not to notice them.
“ … I just couldn’t believe she was a woman of the Clan, and then, when I saw her baby … But the way she walked right up to Ursus, just like she belonged to the host clan, not afraid of him or anything. I couldn’t have done it.”
“I talked to her for a while, she’s really nice, and she acts perfectly normal. I can’t help but wonder, though, do you think she’ll ever find a mate? She’s so tall, what man wants a woman taller than he is? Even if she is a first-ranked medicine woman.”
“Someone told me one clan is considering her, but there just wasn’t time to work out the details, and I think they want to talk about it. They said they’d send a runner if they decide to accept her.”
“But don’t they have a new cave? They say she found it, and that it’s very big, and lucky, too.”
“It’s supposed to be near the sea, and the paths are well used. I think a good runner could find them.”
Broud passed the two women and had to restrain an urge to cuff the lazy, gossiping busybodies. But they weren’t of his clan, and though it was his prerogative to discipline any woman, it wasn’t good policy to cuff one from another clan without permission of mates or leaders, unless the infractions were obvious. It was obvious enough to him, but it might not be to someone else.
“Our medicine woman says she’s skilled,” Norg was saying as Broud entered the cave.
“She is Iza’s daughter,” Brun motioned, “and Iza has trained her well.”
“It’s a shame Iza couldn’t make it. She is ill, I understand.”
“Yes, that’s one reason I want to hurry. We have a long way to go. Your hospitality has been excellent, Norg, but one’s own cave is home. This has been one of the best Clan Gatherings. It will be long remembered,” Brun said.
Broud turned his back, clenching his fists, before he could see the compliment Norg paid to the son of Brun’s mate. Ayla, Ayla, Ayla. Everybody is talking about Ayla. You’d think no one did anything at this Clan Gathering except her. Was she first chosen? Who was on the bear’s head while she was safely on the ground? So what if she saved that hunter’s life, he’ll probably never walk again. She’s ugly, and she’s too tall, and her son is deformed, and they should know how insolent she is at home.
Just then, Ayla ran past, carrying several bundles. Broud’s look of hate was so full of malice it made her flinch. What did I do now? she thought. I’ve hardly seen Broud the whole time we’ve been here.
Broud was a full-grown, powerfully built man of the Clan, but the threat he posed was far greater than mere physical harm. He was the son of the leader’s mate, and destined to be leader himself one day. He thought about that as he watched Ayla put her bundles down outside the cave.
After they ate, the women quickly packed the few utensils they had used to make the morning meal. Brun was impatient to leave, and so were they. Ayla had a few last gestures with some of the medicine women, Norg’s mate, and a few others, then wrapped her son in his carrying cloak and took her place in front of the women of Brun’s clan. Brun gave a signal, and they started across the cleared area in front of the cave. Before rounding the b
end in the trail, Brun stopped, and they all turned to look back one last time. Norg and his whole clan were standing at the mouth of their cave.
“Walk with Ursus,” Norg signaled.
Brun nodded and started out again. It would be seven years before they saw Norg again—or perhaps never. Only the Spirit of the Great Cave Bear knew.
