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“Jondalar, if She chooses, She chooses. If the time comes, we can make a decision then. I wouldn’t want you to offend Her.”
“Yes, you’re right, Ayla,” he said, somewhat relieved.
With a twinge of regret, Ayla decided she would keep taking the medicine that prevented conception, but she dreamed of having babies that night, some with long blond hair, and others who resembled Rydag and Durc. It was near morning when she had a dream that took on a different dimension, ominous and otherworldly.
In the dream she had two sons, brothers whom no one would guess were brothers. One was tall and blond, like Jondalar, the other, older one, she knew was Durc though his face was in shadow. The two brothers approached each other from opposite directions in the middle of an empty, desolate, windblown prairie. She felt great anxiety; something terrible was about to happen, something she had to prevent. Then, with a shock of terror, she knew one of her sons would kill the other. As they drew closer, she tried to reach them, but a thick, viscous wall held her trapped. They were almost upon each other, arms raised as though to strike. She screamed.
“Ayla! Ayla! What’s wrong?” Jondalar said, shaking her.
Suddenly Mamut was beside him. “Wake up, child. Wake up!” he said. “It is only a symbol, a message. Wake up, Ayla!”
“But one will die!” she cried, still filled with the emotions of the dream.
“It is not what you think, Ayla,” Mamut said. “It may not mean one … brother will die. You must learn to search your dreams for their real meaning. You have the Talent; it is very strong, but you lack training.”
Ayla’s vision cleared and she saw two concerned faces looking at her, both tall men, one young and handsome, the other old and wise. Jondalar was holding up a stick of burning wood from the fireplace, to help her wake up. She sat up and tried to smile.
“Are you all right now?” Mamut asked.
“Yes. Yes. I am sorry to wake you,” Ayla said, lapsing into Zelandonii, forgetting the old man did not understand that language.
“We will talk later,” he said, smiling gently, and returned to his bed.
Ayla noticed the drape to the other occupied bed fall shut as she and Jondalar settled back down on their sleeping platform, and felt a little embarrassed that she had created such a stir. She cuddled to Jondalar’s side, resting her head in the hollow beneath his shoulder, grateful for his warmth and his presence. She was almost asleep when her eyes suddenly flew open again.
“Jondalar,” she said in a whisper, “how did Mamut know I dreamed about my sons, about one brother killing the other?” But he was already sleeping.
5
Ayla woke with a start, then lay still and listened. She heard a loud wail, again. Someone seemed to be in great pain. Concerned, she pushed the drape aside and looked out. Crozie was standing in the passageway near the sixth hearth with her arms outspread in an attitude of pleading despair calculated to draw sympathy.
“He would stab my breast! He would kill me! He would turn my own daughter against me!” Crozie shrieked as though she were dying, clutching her hands to her breast. Several people stopped to watch. “I give him my own flesh. Out of my own body …”
“Give! You didn’t give me a thing!” Frebec yelled. “I paid your Bride Price for Fralie.”
“It was trivial! I could have gotten much more for her, “Crozie snapped, her lament no more sincere than her scream of pain had been. “She came to you with two children. Proof of the Mother’s favor. You lowered her value with your pittance. And the value of her children. And look at her! Already blessed again. I gave her to you out of kindness, out of the goodness of my heart.…”
“And because no one else would take Crozie, even with her twice-blessed daughter,” a nearby voice added.
Ayla turned to see who had spoken. The young woman who had worn the beautiful red tunic the day before was smiling at her.
“If you had any plans to sleep late, you can forget them,” Deegie said. “They’re at it early today.”
“No. I get up,” Ayla said. She looked around. The bed was empty, and except for the two women, no one was around. “Jondalar up.” She found her clothes and bega
n to dress. “I wake up, think woman hurt.”
“No one is hurt. At least not that anyone can see. But I feel sorry for Fralie,” Deegie said. “It’s hard being caught in the middle like that.”
Ayla shook her head. “Why they shout?”
“I don’t know why they fight all the time. I suppose they both want Fralie’s favor. Crozie is getting old and doesn’t want Frebec to undermine her influence, but Frebec is stubborn. He didn’t have much before and doesn’t want to lose his new position. Fralie did bring him a lot of status, even with her low Bride Price.” The visitor was obviously interested and Deegie sat down on a platform bed while Ayla dressed, warming to her subject.
“I don’t think she’d put him aside, though. I think she cares for him, for all that he can be so nasty sometimes. It wasn’t so easy to find another man—one willing to take her mother. Everyone saw how it was the first time, no one else wanted to put up with Crozie. That old woman can scream all she wants about giving her daughter away. She’s the one who brought down Fralie’s value. I’d hate to be pulled both ways like that. But I’m lucky. Even if I were going to an established Camp instead of starting a new one with my brother, Tulie would be welcome.”
“Your mother go with you?” Ayla said, puzzled. She understood a woman moving to her mate’s clan, but taking her mother along was new to her.
“I wish she would, but I don’t think she will. I think she’d rather stay here. I don’t blame her. It’s better to be headwoman of your own Camp than the mother of one at another. I will miss her, though.”
