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Lomie’s head jerked up, startled, and she looked at the young blond woman with new interest. The hint of a smile glanced across Mamuts face.
“She is a Healer, too?” Lomie said to Mamut.
“I believe there is none better, not even you, Lomie.”
Lomie knew it was not said lightly. Old Mamut had great respect for her skill. “And here I thought you had only adopted a pretty young woman to ease your last years, Mamut.”
“Ah, but I did, Lomie. She has eased my winter arthritis, and other assorted aches and pains,” he said.
“I’m glad to know there is more to her than can be seen. She is young for it, though.”
“There is more to her than you know, Lomie, in spite of her youth.
Lomie turned then. “You are Ayla.”
“Yes, I am Ayla of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, daughter of the Mammoth Hearth … and protected by the Cave Lion,” Ayla finished, as Mamut had instructed her.
“Ayla of the Mamutoi. Hmmm. It has an unusual sound, but then so does your voice. Not unpleasant, though. Stands out. Makes people notice you. I am Lomie, Mamut of the Wolf Camp and Healer of the Mamutoi.”
“First Healer,” Mamut corrected.
“How can I be First Healer, old Mamut, if she is my equal?”
“I did not say Ayla was your equal, Lomie. I said there is none better. Her background is … unusual. She was trained by … someone with a great depth of knowledge in certain Healing ways. Could you have identified the subtle smell of mullein, masked by the heavy aroma of sage, so quickly if you hadn’t known it was there? And then known what you were treating yourself for?”
Lomie started to speak, then hesitated, and did not respond. Mamut continued, “I think she would have known just by looking at you. She has a rare gift for knowing, and an amazing knowledge of remedies and treatments, but she lacks skill in just those ways that you are most proficient, finding and relieving the problem that creates the illness, and helping someone want to get well. She could learn much from you, and I hope you will consent to train her, but I think there is much you could learn from her as well.”
Lomie turned to Ayla. “And is that what you want?”
“It is what I want.”
“If you know so much already, what do you think you can learn from me?”
“I am a medicine woman. It is … who I am … my life. I could not be otherwise. I was trained by one who was … First, but from the beginning she taught me there is always more to learn. I would be grateful to learn from you,” Ayla said. Her sincerity was not feigned. She was hungry to talk to someone with whom she could share ideas and discuss treatments, and learn.
Lomie paused. Medicine woman? Where had she heard that name for Healer before? She put the thought aside for the moment. It would come to her.
“Ayla has a gift for you,” Mamut said. “Call in anyone you want, but then, if you will, close the flap.”
Everyone who was outside had either come in while they were talking, or was standing at the entrance. They all crowded in. No one wanted to miss anything. When everyone was settled and the entrance flap closed and tied, Mamut picked up a handful of dirt from a drawing circle and put out the small flame, but the bright daylight could not be kept out entirely. It beamed in through the smoke hole, and dimly, through the hide walls. It would not be quite as dramatic a demonstration in the dimly lit tent as it had been within the dark earthlodge, but every one of the mamuti would recognize its possibilities.
Ayla untied the small carrying container from her waistband, one she and Mamut had asked Barzec to make, and withdrew tinder, firestone, and flint. After everything was ready, Ayla paused, and for the first time in many moon cycles, sent a silent thought to her totem. It wasn’t a specific request, but she thought about a big, impressive, fast lighting spark, so the effect would be what Mamut wanted. Then she picked up the flint and struck it sharply against the iron pyrite. It flashed brightly, even in the tent, then went out. She struck again, and this time it took, and soon the small fire in the fireplace was burning again.
; The mamuti were wise in the ways of artifice and accustomed to creating effects. They prided themselves on being able to recognize how they were accomplished. Little surprised them, but Ayla’s fire trick left them without words.
“The magic is in the firestone itself,” old Mamut said, as Ayla put the materials back in the rawhide container, and gave it to Lomie. Then the tone and quality of his voice changed. “But the way to draw the fire out of it was shown to Ayla. I did not need to adopt her, Lomie. She was born to the Mammoth Hearth, chosen by the Mother. She can only follow her destiny, but now I know that I was chosen to be part of it, and why I was given so many years.”
His words sent a thrill of shivers and raised hairs through everyone in the tent of the Mammoth Hearth. He had touched upon the real mystery, the deeper calling that each one of them felt in some measure beyond the superficial trappings and casual cynicism. Old Mamut was a phenomenon. His very existence was magical. No one had ever lived so long. His name was even lost in the passage of years. They were each a Mamut, shaman of their Camps, but he was simply Mamut, his name and calling had become one. No one there doubted that there was some purpose for his many years. If he said Ayla was the reason, then she was touched by the deep and unexplainable mysteries of life and the world around them, which each of them felt called upon to struggle with.
Ayla was preoccupied when she and Mamut left the tent. She, too, had felt tension, a stirring of gooseflesh when old Mamut spoke of her destiny, but she didn’t want to be the object of such intense interest by powers beyond her control. It was frightening, all this talk of destiny. She wasn’t any different from anyone else, and she didn’t want to be. She didn’t like it when her speech was commented upon, either. At Lion Camp no one noticed any more. She had forgotten that there were some words she just couldn’t get right, no matter how hard she tried.
“Ayla! There you are. I was looking for you.”
She looked up at the sparkling dark eyes and wide flashing smile of the dark-skinned man to whom she was Promised. She smiled back. He was just the one she needed to take her mind off her troubling thoughts. She turned to Mamut to see if he still wanted her. He smiled and told her to go and have a look around the encampment with Ranec.
“I want you to meet some carvers. Some of them are doing fine work.” Ranec said, leading her with an arm around her waist. “We always have a Camp near the Mammoth Hearth. Not just carvers, other artists, too.”
