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Ayla shivered at the thought. “I do not know, Mamut. I do not want to. I am frightened.”
“I don’t mean right away,” he said. “Not until you have had some training and are prepared for it. And it should be a special ceremony, with deep meaning and significance. Perhaps the Spring Festival, the beginning of new life.” He saw her shake again. “It’s up to you, but you do not have to decide now. All I ask is that you allow me to begin training and preparation. When spring comes, if you don’t feel ready, you can say no.”
“What is training?” Ayla asked.
“First, I would want you to learn certain songs and chants, and how to use the mammoth skull. Then there is the meaning of certain symbols and signs.”
Rydag watched her close her eyes and frown. He hoped she would agree. He had just learned more about his mother’s people than he ever knew, but he wanted to learn more. If Mamut and Ayla planned a ceremony with Clan rituals, he was sure he would.
When Ayla opened them, her eyes looked troubled, but she swallowed hard, and then nodded. “Yes, Mamut. I try to face fear of spirit world, if you will help me.”
As Mamut lay back down, he didn’t notice Ayla clutch the small decorated bag she wore around her neck.
21
“Hu! Hu! Hu! That’s three!” Crozie cried out, chuckling shrewdly as she counted the discs with the marked side up that had been caught in the shallow woven bowl.
“Your turn again,” Nezzie said. They were sitting on the floor beside the circular pit of dry loess soil, which Talut had used to map out a hunting plan. “You still have seven to go, I’ll bet two more.” She made two more lines on the smoothed surface of the drawing pit.
Crozie picked up the wicker bowl and shook the seven small ivory discs together. The discs, which bellied out slightly so that they rocked when they were on a flat surface, were plain on one side; the other side was carved with lines and colored. Keeping the wide, shallow bowl near the floor, Crozie flipped the discs into the air. Then, moving it smartly across the red-bordered mat that outlined the boundaries of the playing area, she caught the discs in the basket. This time four of the discs had their marked side up and only three were plain.
“Look at that! Four! Only three to go. I’ll wager five more.”
Ayla, sitting on a mat nearby, sipped tea from her wooden cup and watched the old woman shake the discs together in the bowl again. Crozie threw them up and caught them once more. This time five discs had the side with marks carved into them showing.
“I win! Do you want to try again, Nezzie?”
“Well, maybe one more game,” Nezzie said, reaching for the wicker bowl and shaking it. She tossed the discs in the air, and caught them in the flat basket.
“There’s the black eye!” Crozie cried, pointing to a disc that had turned up a side which was colored black. “You lose! That makes twelve you owe me. Do you want to play another game?”
“No, you’re too lucky today,” Nezzie said, getting up.
“How about you, Ayla?” Crozie said. “Do you want to play a game?”
“I am not good at that game,” Ayla said. “I do not catch all the pieces sometimes.”
She had watched the gaming many times as the bitter cold of the long season deepened, but had played little, and then only for practice. She knew Crozie was a serious player who did not play for practice, and had little patience with inept or indecisive players.
“Well, how about Knucklebones? You don’t need any skill to play that.”
“I would play, but I do not know what to bet,” Ayla said.
“Nezzie and I play for marks and settle it out later.”
“Now or later, I do not know what to bet.”
“Certainly you have something you can wager,” Crozie said, somewhat impatient to get on with the game. “Something of value.”
“And you wager something of same value?”
The old woman nodded brusquely. “Of course.”
Ayla frowned with concentration. “Maybe … furs, or leather, or something to make. Wait! I think I know something. Jondalar played with Mamut and bet skill. He made special knife when he lost. Is skill good to bet, Crozie?”
“Why not?” she said. “I’ll mark it, here,” Crozie said, smoothing the dirt with the flat side of the drawing knife. The woman picked up two objects from the ground beside her and held them out, one in each hand. “We’ll count three marks to a game. If you guess right, you get a mark. If you guess wrong, I get a mark. The first one to get three, wins the game.”
Ayla looked at the two metacarpal bones of a musk-ox which she held, one painted with red and black lines, the other plain. “I should pick the plain one, that is right?” she asked.
