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Jondalar’s forehead wrinkled with concern as he looked down and scuffed his foot. He wanted to say something, but didn’t quite know how. “Ayla … ah … I told you something like this might happen if you … if you talked about th
e … ah … people you lived with. Most people don’t think about … them the way you do.” He looked up. “If you just hadn’t said anything …”
“I would have died if it hadn’t been for the Clan, Jondalar! Are you saying I should be ashamed of the people who took care of me? Do you think Iza was less human than Nezzie?” Ayla stormed.
“No, no, I didn’t mean that, Ayla. I’m not saying you should be ashamed, I’m just saying … I mean … you don’t have to talk about them to people who don’t understand.”
“I’m not sure you understand. Who do you think I should talk about when people ask who I am? Who my people are? Where I come from? I am not Clan any more—Broud cursed me, to them I am dead—but I wish I could be! At least they finally accepted me as a medicine woman. They wouldn’t keep me from helping a woman who needs help. Do you know how terrible it is to see her suffer and not be allowed to help? I am a medicine woman, Jondalar!” she said with a cry of frustrated helplessness, and angrily turned back to the horse.
Latie stepped out of the entrance to the earthlodge, and seeing Ayla with the horses, approached eagerly. “What can I do to help?” she asked, smiling broadly.
Ayla recalled her request for help the evening before, and tried to compose herself. “Not think I need help now. Not stay, go back to valley soon,” she said, speaking in the girl’s language.
Latie was crushed. “Oh … well … I guess I’d be in the way, then,” she said, starting back to the archway.
Ayla saw her disappointment. “But horses need coat brushed. Full of ice. Maybe could help today?”
“Oh, yes,” the girl said, smiling again. “What can I do?”
“See, there, on ground near lodge, dry stalks?”
“You mean this teasel?” Latie asked, picking up a stiff stem with a rounded spiny dried top.
“Yes, I get from riverbank. Top make good brush. Break off, like this. Wrap hand with small piece leather. Make easier to hold,” Ayla explained. Then she led her to Racer and showed the girl how to hold the teasel to curry the shaggy winter coat of the young horse. Jondalar stayed nearby to keep him calm until he became accustomed to the unfamiliar girl when Ayla went back to breaking up and brushing away the ice clinging to Whinney.
Latie’s presence temporarily ended their talk about leaving, and Jondalar was grateful for it. He felt he had said more than he should have, and said it badly, and now was at a loss for words. He didn’t want Ayla to go under these circumstances. She might never want to leave the valley again if she went back now. As much as he loved her, he didn’t know if he could stand to spend the rest of his life with no other people. He didn’t think she should, either. She has been getting along so well, he thought. She wouldn’t have any trouble fitting in anywhere, even with the Zelandonii. If only she wouldn’t talk about … but she’s right. What is she supposed to say when someone asks who her people are? He knew that if he took her home with him, everyone would ask.
“Do you always brush the ice out of their coats, Ayla?” Latie asked.
“No, not always. At valley, horses come in cave when bad weather. Here, no place for horses,” Ayla said. “I leave soon. Go back to valley, when weather clear.”
Inside the lodge, Nezzie had walked through the cooking hearth and the entrance foyer on her way out, but as she approached the outer archway, she heard them talking outside, and stopped to listen. She had been afraid Ayla might want to leave after the trouble the night before, and that would mean no more sign language lessons for Rydag and the Camp. The woman had already noticed the difference in the way people treated him, now that they could talk to him. Except Frebec, of course. I’m sorry I asked Talut to invite them to join us … except where would Fralie be now if I hadn’t? She’s not well; this pregnancy is hard on her.
“Why do you have to leave, Ayla?” Latie asked. “We could make a shelter for them here.”
“She’s right. It wouldn’t be hard to set up a tent, or lean-to, or something near the entrance to protect them from the worst winds and snows,” Jondalar added.
“I think Frebec not like to have animal so close,” Ayla said.
“Frebec is only one person, Ayla,” Jondalar said.
“But Frebec is Mamutoi. I am not.”
No one refuted her statement, but Latie blushed with shame for her Camp.
Inside, Nezzie hurried back to the Lion Hearth. Talut, just waking up, flung back the furs, swung his huge legs over the edge of the bed platform and sat up. He scratched his beard, stretched his arms in a wide reach and opened his mouth in a terrific yawn, and then made a grimace of pain and held his head in his hands for a moment. He looked up and saw Nezzie, and smiled sheepishly.
“I drank too much bouza last night,” he announced. Getting up, he reached for his tunic and pulled it on.
“Talut, Ayla is planning to leave as soon as the weather clears,” Nezzie said.
The big man scowled. “I was afraid she might. It’s too bad. I was hoping they would winter with us.”
“Can’t we do anything? Why should Frebec’s bad temper drive them away when everyone else wants them to stay?”
“I don’t know what we can do. Have you talked to her, Nezzie?”
“No. I heard her talking outside. She told Latie there was no place here to shelter the horses, they were used to coming in her cave when the weather was bad. Latie said we could make a shelter, and Jondalar suggested a tent or something near the entrance. Then Ayla said she didn’t think Frebec would like to have an animal so close, and I know she didn’t mean the horses.”
