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could be seen when accidents or injuries were sustained.
Ayla was a botanist, pharmacist, and doctor; her magic consisted of the esoteric lore passed down and improved upon by generation after generation for hundreds, thousands, perhaps millions of years of gatherers and hunters whose very existence depended on an intimate knowledge of the land on which they lived and its products.
Out of that timeless resource of unrecorded history, passed on to her through the training she had received from Iza, and aided by an inherent analytical talent and intuitive perception, Ayla could diagnose and treat most ailments and injuries. With a razor-sharp flint blade she even did minor surgical operations occasionally, but Ayla’s medicine depended more on the complex active principles of healing plants. She was skilled, and her remedies were effective, but she could not perform major surgery to correct a congenital defect of the heart.
As Ayla watched the sleeping boy who looked so much like her son, she felt a deep relief and gratitude knowing that Durc had been sound and healthy when he was born—but that did not assuage the pain of having to tell Nezzie that no medicine could make Rydag well.
Later in the afternoon, Ayla sorted through her packets and pouches of herbs to prepare the mixture she had promised Nezzie she would make. Mamut silently watched her again. There could be little doubt now of her healing skills by anyone, including Frebec, though he still might not want to admit it, or Tulie, who had not been as vocal, but who, the old man knew, had been very skeptical. Ayla appeared to be an ordinary young woman, quite attractive even to his old eyes, but he was convinced there was much more to her than anyone knew; he doubted if she even knew the full extent of her potential.
What a difficult—and fascinating—life she has led, he mused. She looks so young, but she is already much older in experience than most people will ever be. How long did she live with them? How had she become so skilled in their medicine? he wondered. He knew that such knowledge was not usually taught to one not born to it, and she had been an outsider, more than most people could ever understand. Then there was her unexpected talent for Searching. What other talents might lie untapped? What knowledge not yet used? What secrets unrevealed?
Her strength comes out in a crisis; he remembered how Ayla had given orders to Tulie, and Talut. Even me, he thought with a smile, and no one objected. Leadership comes to her naturally. What adversity has tested her to give her such presence so young? The Mother has plans for her, I’m sure of it, but what about the young man, Jondalar? He is certainly well favored, but his gifts are not extraordinary. What is Her purpose for him?
She was putting the balance of her packages of herbs away when Mamut suddenly looked more closely at her otter skin medicine bag. It was familiar. He could close his eyes and almost see one so similar that it brought back a flood of memories.
“Ayla, may I see that?” he asked, wanting to see it more closely.
“This? My medicine bag?” she queried.
“I’ve always wondered how they were made.”
Ayla handed him the unusual pouch, noticing the arthritic bumps in his long, thin, old hands.
The ancient shaman examined it carefully. It showed signs of wear; she’d had it for some time. It had been made, not by sewing or attaching pieces together, but from the skin of a single animal. Rather than slitting the otter’s belly, which was the usual way to skin an animal, only the throat had been cut, leaving the head attached by a strip at the back. The bones and insides were drawn out through the neck and the brain case was drained, leaving it somewhat flattened. The entire skin was then cured and small holes had been cut at intervals around the neck with a stone awl for a cord to be threaded through as a drawstring. The result was a pouch of sleek, waterproof otter fur with the feet and tail still intact, and the head used as a cover flap.
Mamut gave it back to her. “Did you make that?”
“No. Iza make. She was medicine woman of Brun’s clan, my … mother. She teach me since little girl, where plants grow, how to make medicine, how to use. She was sick, not go to Clan Gathering. Brun need medicine woman. Uba too young, I am only one.”
Mamut nodded with understanding, then he looked at her sharply. “What was the name you said just now?”
“My mother? Iza?”
“No, the other one.”
Ayla thought for a moment. “Uba?”
“Who is Uba?”
“Uba is … sister. Not true sister, but like sister to me. She is daughter of Iza. Now she is medicine woman … and mother of …”
“Is that a common name?” Mamut interrupted in a voice that carried an edge of excitement.
“No … I do not think … Creb name Uba. Mother of Iza’s mother had same name. Creb and Iza had same mother.”
“Creb! Tell me, Ayla, this Creb, did he have a bad arm and walk with a limp?”
“Yes,” Ayla replied, puzzled. How could Mamut know?
“And was there another brother? Younger, but strong and healthy?”
Ayla frowned in the face of Mamut’s eager questions. “Yes. Brun. He was leader.”
“Great Mother! I can’t believe it! Now I understand.”
“I do not understand,” Ayla said.
“Ayla, come, sit down. I want to tell you a story.”
