They approached more people. “You remember Sergenor, the leader of the Seventh Cave, don’t you?” Kimeran said to the visiting couple, indicating a middle-aged dark-haired man who had been standing back eyeing the wolf warily, and letting the younger leader greet his friends.
“Yes, of course,” Jondalar said, noting his apprehension, and thinking that this visit might be a good time to help people get more comfortable around Wolf. “I remember when Sergenor used to come to talk to Marthona when he was first chosen as leader of the Seventh. You have met Ayla, I believe.”
“I was one of the many to whom she was introduced last year when you first arrived, but I haven’t had a chance to greet her personally,” Sergenor said. He held out both hands, palms up. “In the name of Doni, I welcome you to the Seventh Cave of the Zelandonii, Ayla of the Ninth Cave. I know you have many other names and ties, some quite unusual, but I will admit, I don’t remember them.”
Ayla grasped both of his hands in hers. “I am Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii,” she began, “acolyte to Zelandoni of the Ninth Cave, First Among Those Who Serve”; then she hesitated, wondering how many of Jondalar’s ties to mention. At the Matrimonial Ceremony last summer, all of Jondalar’s names and ties were added to hers, and it made for a very long recitation, but it was only during the most formal of ceremonies that the whole list was required. Since this was her official meeting of the leader of the Seventh Cave, she wanted to make the introduction formal, but not go on and on.
She decided to cite the closest of his ties and continue with her own, including her previous ties. She finished with the appellations that had been added in a more lighthearted vein, but that she liked to use. “Friend of the horses, Whinney, Racer, and Gray, and the four-legged hunter, Wolf. In the name of the Great Mother of all, I greet you, Sergenor, leader of the Seventh Cave of the Zelandonii, and I would like to thank you for inviting us to Horsehead Rock.”
She is definitely not a Zelandonii, Sergenor thought, as he heard her speak. She may have Jondalar’s names and ties, but she’s a foreigner with foreign customs, especially about animals. As he dropped her hands, he eyed the wolf, who had come closer.
Ayla saw his uneasiness around the big carnivore. She had noticed that Kimeran was not particularly comfortable near the animal either, though he had been introduced to Wolf last year shortly after they arrived, and he had seen him several times. Neither of the leaders was accustomed to seeing a hunting meat-eater moving so easily among people. Her thoughts were similar to Jondalar’s: this might be a good time to get them more accustomed to Wolf.
The people of the Seventh Cave were noticing that the couple everyone talked about from the Ninth Cave had arrived, and more people were coming to see the woman with the wolf. All the nearby Caves had known within a day when Jondalar returned from his five-year-long Journey the summer before. Arriving on horseback with a foreign woman guaranteed it. They had met people from most of the nearby Caves at the Ninth Cave when they came to visit, or at the last Summer Meeting, but this was the first time they had paid a visit to the Seventh or the Second Cave.
Ayla and Jondalar had planned to go the previous fall, but never quite made it. It wasn’t that their Caves were so far away from each other, but something always seemed to interfere, and then winter was upon them, and Ayla was getting along in her pregnancy. All the delayed expectation had made their visit an occasion, especially since the First had decided to have a meeting here with the local zelandonia at the same time.
“Whoever carved the Horsehead in the cave below must have known horses. It is very well made,” Ayla said.
“I always thought so, but it is nice to hear it from someone who knows horses as well as you do,” Sergenor said.
Wolf was sitting back on his haunches with his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth, eyeing the man, his bent ear giving him a cocky, self-satisfied look. Ayla knew he was expecting to be introduced. He had watched her greet the leader of the Seventh Cave and he had come to expect to be presented to any stranger that she greeted in that way.
“I also want to thank you for allowing me to bring Wolf. He’s always unhappy if he can’t be near me, and now he feels that way about Jonayla, since he loves children so much,” Ayla said.
“That wolf loves children?” Sergenor said.
“Wolf didn’t grow up with other wolves, he was raised with the Mamutoi children of the Lion Camp and thinks of people as his pack, and all wolves love the young of their packs,” Ayla said. “He saw me greet you and now he expects to meet you. He has learned to accept anyone that I introduce him to.”
Sergenor frowned. “How do you introduce a wolf?” he said. He glanced at Kimeran and saw him grinning.
The younger man was remembering his introduction to Wolf, and though he might still be somewhat nervous around the carnivore, he was rather enjoying the older man’s discomfiture.
Ayla signaled Wolf to come forward and knelt down to put her arm around him, then reached for Sergenor’s hand. He jerked it back.
“He only needs to smell it,” Ayla said, “so he becomes familiar with you. It’s the way wolves meet each other.”
“Did you do this, Kimeran?” Sergenor said, noticing that most of his Cave and their visitors were watching.
“Yes, in fact I did. Last summer, when they went to the Third Cave to hunt before the Summer Meeting. Afterward, whenever I saw the wolf at the Meeting, I had the feeling that he recognized me, though he ignored me,” Kimeran said.
He didn’t really want to, but with all the people watching, Sergenor was feeling pressed to comply. He didn’t want anyone to think that he was afraid to do what the younger leader had already done. Slowly, tentatively, he stretched out his hand toward the animal. Ayla took it and brought it to the animal’s nose. Wolf wrinkled his nose and, with his mouth closed, bared his teeth so that his large carnassial shearing teeth showed, in what Jondalar always thought of as his feeling-full-of-himself grin. But that wasn’t how Sergenor saw it. Ayla could feel him shaking, and noticed the sour smell of his fear. She knew Wolf did, too.
“Wolf won’t hurt you, I promise,” Ayla said softly, under her breath. Sergenor gritted his teeth, forcing himself to hold steady while the wolf brought his tooth-filled mouth close to his hand. Wolf sniffed, then licked.
“What’s he doing?” Sergenor said. “Trying to see what I taste like?”
“No, I think he’s trying to calm you, like he would a puppy. Here, touch his head.” She moved his hand away from the sharp teeth, and was speaking in a soothing voice. “Have you ever felt the fur of a living wolf? Do you notice that behind his ears and around his neck, the fur is a little thicker and rougher? He likes being rubbed behind his ears.” When she finally let go, the man moved his hand away and held it in his other hand.
“Now he will recognize you,” she said. She had never seen anyone so afraid of Wolf, or more brave in overcoming his fear. “Have you ever had any experience with wolves before?” she asked.
“Once, when I was very young, I was bitten by a wolf. I don’t really remember, my mother told me about it, but I still have the scars,” Sergenor said.
“That means the Wolf spirit chose you. The Wolf is your totem. That’s what the people who raised me would say.” She knew totems were not viewed the same way by the Zelandonii as they were by the Clan. Not everyone had one, but they were considered lucky by those who did. “I was clawed by a cave lion when I was young, when I could count perhaps five years. I still have the scars to show for it, and I still dream about it sometimes. It is not easy to live with a powerful totem like a Lion or a Wolf, but my totem has helped me, taught me many things,” Ayla said.
Sergenor was intrigued, almost in spite of himself. “What did you learn from a cave lion?”
“How to face my fears, for one thing,” she said. “I think you have learned to do the same. Your Wolf totem may have helped you without your knowing it.”