“Then I would miss him, Jonayla. No, I think it’s best if he stays here. You’ll see him later in the summer,” Ayla said.
Jondalar picked up Jonayla and put her on Gray. She could count six years now, and could mount the horse herself, if there was a stone or a stump nearby, but she still needed help out in the open. Jondalar mounted Racer, and taking Gray’s lead rope, they quickly caught up with the rest. Ayla could not stop the tears as she stood with Whinney and Wolf watching Jondalar and Jonayla riding away from her.
Finally Ayla leapt up on the back of her dun-yellow mare. She rode partway, back toward home, then stopped and turned to look again at the departing Ninth Cave. They were moving along at a steady pace, strung out in a ragged line. At the rear she saw Jonayla and Jondalar on their horses, pulling the pole-drags.
The Summer Meeting was being held at the same place it had been held when Ayla first came. She had liked that location and hoped that Joharran would select the same site that the Ninth Cave had used for their camp when they were there before, if no one else had taken it. Joharran had always liked being in the thick of things, and the campsite was somewhat away from the major activities, but in the past few years, he had begun to select campsites that were closer to the edge so the horses wouldn’t be surrounded by people. And he was learning to like having the space to spread out. If he chose the old campsite, there was plenty of room for their much larger than usual Cave to spread out, and a good place for the horses as well. And she could close her eyes and imagine them there. Ayla watched the people leaving for some time, then turned Whinney, signaled Wolf, and went back to the Ninth Cave.
Ayla hadn’t known how lonely the huge abri could be with so many people gone, even though some people from the nearby Caves had come to stay there. Most of the dwellings were closed up, and the abri had a deserted look. Tools and equipment from the large work area had been dismantled and taken along or put away, leaving empty spaces. Marthona’s loom was one of the few remaining pieces of apparatus.
Ayla had asked Marthona to move in with them. She wanted to be nearby if Jondalar’s mother needed help, especially at night, and the woman was quick to agree. Since she and Willamar were already planning to move in with them in the fall, it gave M
arthona a chance to select which things she wanted to keep and which to give away; she couldn’t move them all over to the smaller accommodations. They talked long together, and Marthona discovered a reason for happiness when she learned that Ayla was pregnant again.
Most of the people left behind were old or incapacitated in some way. Among them was a hunter with a broken leg, another recovering from a goring he suffered at the horns of an aurochs bull that had turned on him suddenly, and a pregnant woman who had already miscarried three times and been told that she had to stay off her feet if she ever expected to carry a baby full term. Her mother and her mate were staying with her.
“I am glad you are going to be here this summer, Ayla,” Jeviva, the pregnant woman’s mother, said. “Jeralda held her last one almost six moons, until Madroman came around. He told her to exercise. I think the reason she lost it was his fault. At least you know something about pregnancy—you’ve had a child of your own.”
Ayla looked at Marthona, wondering if she knew anything about Madroman treating Jeralda. She hadn’t heard anything. He had moved back to the Ninth Cave last year and brought many of his things with him as if he planned to stay for a while; then just a Moon or so ago, he left abruptly. A runner from another Cave had come to ask Ayla for help for someone who had broken his arm; her skill with fixing bones had spread wide. She stayed several days and when she returned, Madroman was gone.
“How far along is Jeralda now?” Ayla asked.
“Her moontimes were not regular and she was spotting blood so we weren’t paying much attention and aren’t sure when this life started. I think she’s bigger than she was when she lost the last one, but maybe I’m just wishing,” Jeviva said.
“I’ll come by tomorrow and examine her, and see what I can find out, though I don’t know if I’ll be able to tell much. Did Zelandoni say anything about why she lost her first three?” Ayla asked.
“All she said is that Jeralda has a slippery womb and tends to drop them too easily. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with the last one, except that he was born too soon. He was alive when he was born and lived a day or so, then just stopped breathing.” The woman turned her head aside and wiped away a tear.
Jeralda put her arm around her mother, and then her mate held her and her mother for a moment. Ayla watched the small family as they joined together in their remembered grief. She hoped this pregnancy would turn out to be more successful.
Joharran had designated two men to stay behind to hunt for the people left at the Ninth Cave and generally to help out where they could; they would be replaced in a Moon or so. There was also one hunter who had volunteered to stay, the mate of the pregnant woman who was having difficulties. The others had been unlucky enough to lose at the competitive games the leader had arranged to decide who had to remain behind. The older one was called Lorigan, and the younger, Forason. They had grumbled about it but since they would not have to take a turn in the competition the next year, they accepted their fate.
Ayla often joined the men on their hunts and enjoyed it, and just as often went out on her own with Whinney and Wolf. She hadn’t hunted for some time, but she hadn’t lost her skills. Forason, who was quite young, wasn’t sure of the hunting ability of the Donier’s acolyte in the beginning, and thought she’d get in the way, especially since she insisted on bringing the wolf. Lorigan only smiled. By the end of the first day, the young man was overwhelmed at her prowess with both spear-thrower and sling, and surprised at how well the animal worked with them. When they were returning, the older man explained to the youngster that it was she and Jondalar who had developed the spear-thrower and brought it with them when they returned from their Journey. Forason had the good sense to be embarrassed.
But, for the most part, Ayla stayed near the large abri. Those who were there usually shared their evening meal together. It tended to make the emptiness of the large area seem less when they were all together around one fire. The aged and infirm were overjoyed to have a real healer there to care for them. It gave them an unaccustomed sense of security. Most summers, instructions were left with those who were more fit or with the hunters. At most, there might be an acolyte who was staying behind for a similar reason that Ayla was, but generally not one so skilled.
Ayla fell into a routine. She slept late in the morning; then in the afternoon she visited with each person, listened to their complaints, gave them medicines or made poultices, or did whatever she could to make them feel better. It helped make the time pass for her. They all became closer, exchanged stories of their lives, or told stories they had heard. Ayla practiced telling the Elder Legends and the Histories she was learning, and told incidents from her early life, both of which people loved hearing. She still spoke with her unusual accent, but they were so accustomed to it, they didn’t really hear it anymore, except that it tended to give her an appealing sense of the mysterious and exotic. They had fully accepted her as one of them, but they loved to tell stories about her to others because she was so unusual, and by association it made them feel special.
As they sat together in the warm sun of the late afternoon, Ayla’s stories were in particular demand. She had led such an interesting life, and they never seemed to tire of asking her questions about the Clan or of asking her to show them how they would say certain words, or concepts. They also loved to hear the familiar songs and stories they had grown up with. Many of the older people knew some of the Legends as well as she, and were quick to point out any mistakes, but since several of the older ones came from other Caves, and each often had their own versions, there would be discussions or sometimes arguments about which interpretation was more correct. Ayla didn’t mind. She was interested in the various renderings, and the discussions helped her to remember even better. It was a quiet, slow-paced time. The ones who were able often went out and gathered the fruits, vegetables, nuts, and seeds in season, to supplement their meals and to store for the winter.
Just before sunset each evening, Ayla climbed to the top of the cliff with the flat palmate sections of antler she had been marking. She had gotten in the habit of leaving Wolf with Marthona at night, showing her how to send Wolf to get her if she needed help. Ayla watched as the sun continued its almost imperceptible movement, setting just a little farther toward the right on the western horizon each night.
Until Zelandoni had set her to the task, she hadn’t really paid that much attention to those kinds of celestial movements before. She had only noticed that the sun rose somewhere in the east and set in the west, and that the moon went through phases from full to dark and back to full again. Like most people, she was aware that the nighttime orb was in the sky during the day occasionally, and though people noticed it, they didn’t often pay attention because it was so pale. There was a particular color, however, a shade of nearly transparent white, hardly more than a wash of water with a little white kaolin from a nearby deposit that was called “pale,” after the pale moon of day.
Now, she knew much more. That was why she was watching the place on the horizon where the sun rose and set, the placement of certain constellations and stars, and the different timings of the risings and settings of the moon. It was a full moon, and while it wasn’t rare to have a full moon during the Winter Shortday or the Summer Longday, it was not especially common either. One of the events coincided with the full moon perhaps once every ten years, but since the full moon was always opposite the sun, it always rose at the same time that the sun set, and because the sun was high in the sky in summer, the full moon stayed low in the sky all night. She sat facing south and turning her head right and left to try to keep track of both of them.
The first night that the sun seemed to set in the same place that it had the night before, she wasn’t sure if she had seen it right. Was it far enough to the right on the horizon? Had the correct number of days passed? Was the time right? she wondered. She noted certain constellations, and the moon, and decided she’d wait until the next night. When the sun set at the same place again, she was so excited, she wished Zelandoni were with her so she could share it.
30
She could hardly wait until Marthona woke up the next morning to tell her that she thought it was the time of the Summer Longday. The woman’s reaction was mixed. She was pleased for Ayla, but she also knew that it would not be long before Ayla would be going to the Summer Meeting and she’d be left alone. Not really alone, she knew; all the others would still be there, but Ayla had been wonderful company, enough so that she hardly noticed the absence of so many of her loved ones. She even noticed that the infirmities that kept her from the Summer Meeting seemed less. The young woman’s medicinal skills, the special teas, poultices, massages, and other practices all seemed to help. She was feeling much better. Marthona was going to miss her greatly.
The sun seemed to stand still, to set in almost the same location for seven days, but only three that Ayla felt certain of. There did seem to be some movement on the two before and the two after, although less than normal, and then to her amazement, she could see that the place where the sun set had definitely reversed. It was exciting to watch the change in direction, and to realize that the sun would keep going back the way it had come until the Winter Shortday.
She had watched the previous Winter Shortday, along with Zelandoni and several other people, but she hadn’t felt the same sense of excitement, although that one was always more important to most people. It was the Shortday that promised that the deep cold of winter would end and the warmth of summer would return, and was celebrated with great enthusiasm.
But this Summer Longday was very important to Ayla. She had seen and verified it herself, and she felt a great sense of accomplishment, and relief. It also meant her year of watching was over. She would watch a few more days, and continue to mark, just to see if, and how, the setting places changed, but she was already thinking of leaving for the Summer Meeting.
The next night, after she had again verified that the sun had reversed its direction, Ayla was feeling restless up on the high cliff. She had been jumpy and nervous all day, and thought it might be her pregnancy, or perhaps the relief of knowing she would not have to spend many more lonely nights watching the ski