The Clan of the Cave Bear

28

«Would you like to sleep with Uba tonight, Durc?» Ayla asked.

«No!» the boy shook his head emphatically. «Durc sleep with Mama.»

«That's all right, Ayla. I didn't think he would. He's been with me all day, anyway,» Uba said. «Where did he get that name he calls you, Ayla?»

«It's just a name he uses for me,» Ayla answered, turning her head aside. The Clan stricture against unnecessary words or sounds has been so firmly ingrained in Ayla from the time she first arrived, she felt guilty about the word game she played with her son. Uba didn't press, though she knew there was something Ayla was withholding.

«Sometimes when I go out with Durc alone, we make sounds together,» Ayla admitted. «He just picked those sounds for me. He can make a lot of sounds.»

«You can make sounds, too. Mother said you used to make all kinds of sounds and words when you were little, especially before you learned to talk,» she gestured. «I still remember when I was a baby, I used to love that sound you made when you rocked me.»

«I guess I did when I was little, I don't really remember too well,» Ayla motioned. «Durc and I just have a game we play.»

«I don't think there's anything so wrong with that,» Uba said. «It's not like he can't talk. I wish these roots weren't so rotten,» Uba added, throwing a large one away. «It's not going to be much of a feast tomorrow with only dried meat and fish and half-rotten vegetables. If Brun would only wait a little longer, there would at least be some greens and shoots.»

«It's not just Brun,» Ayla said. «Creb says the best time is the first full moon after the beginning of spring.»

«How does he know the beginning of spring, I wonder?» Uba remarked. «One rainy day looks like another to me.»

«I think it has something to do with watching the sun set. He's been watching it go down for days. Even when it rains, you can often see where the sun goes to sleep, and there've been enough clear nights to see the moon. Creb knows.» «I wish Creb wasn't going to make Goov the mog-ur, too,» Uba said.

«So do I,» Ayla motioned. «He sits around too much doing nothing these days as it is. What will he do with himself when he doesn't even have ceremonies to perform? I knew it had to happen sometime, but this is one feast I'm not going to enjoy.»

«It will seem strange. I'm used to Brun as the leader and Creb as Mog-ur, but Vorn says it's time for the younger men to lead. He says Broud has waited long enough.»

«I suppose he's right,» Ayla motioned. «Vorn has always admired Broud.»

«He's good to me, Ayla. He didn't even get angry when I lost the baby. He just said he would ask Mog-ur for a charm to make his totem strong again so it could start another one. He must like you, too, Ayla. He even told me to ask you to let Durc sleep with us. I think he knows how much I like having him around,» Uba confided. «Even Broud hasn't been so bad to you lately.»

«No, he hasn't bothered me much,» Ayla motioned. She didn't know how to explain the fear she felt every time he looked at her. She could even feel the hair rising on the back of her neck if he stared at her when she wasn't looking.

Creb stayed late with Goov in the place of the spirits that evening. Ayla fixed a light meal for Durc and herself and put something aside for Creb to eat when he returned, though she doubted if he'd bother to eat it. She had awakened that morning with a feeling of anxiety that grew worse as the day wore on. The cave seemed to close in on her and her mouth felt dry as dust. She only managed to choke down a few bites, then suddenly jumped up and ran to the mouth of the cave and stared out at the leaden sky and the heavy, soaking rain making small craters in the saturated mud. Durc crawled into her bed and was already asleep when she returned to the hearth. As soon as he felt her crawl in beside him, he snuggled closer and made a half-conscious gesture that ended with the word, «Mama.»

Ayla wrapped her arm around him, feeling his beating heart as she held him, but sleep was long in coming for her. She lay awake looking at the shadowed contours of the rough rock wall in the dim light of the dying fire. She was awake when Creb finally returned, but she lay still, listening to him shuffling around, and finally drifted off to sleep after he had crawled into his bed.

She woke up screaming!

«Ayla! Ayla!» Creb called, shaking her to bring her fully awake. «What's wrong, child?» he motioned, his eye full of concern.

«Oh, Creb,» she sobbed, and threw her arms around his neck. «I had that dream. I haven't had that dream for years.» Creb put his arm around her and felt her trembling.

«What's wrong with Mama?» Durc motioned, sitting up wide-eyed with fear. He had never heard his mother scream before. Ayla put her arm around him.

«What dream, Ayla? The one about the cave lion?» Creb asked.

«No, the other one, the one I can never exactly remember.» She started shaking again. «Creb, why should I have that dream now? I thought I was all over having bad dreams.»

Creb put his arm around her to comfort her again. Ayla hugged him back. They both suddenly realized how long it had been, and held each other with Durc between them.

«Oh, Creb, I can't tell you how often I've wanted to hug you. I thought you didn't want me; I was afraid you'd push me away like you did when I was an insolent little girl.

There's something else I've wanted to tell you. I love you, Creb.» «Ayla, I had to make myself push you away even then; but I had to do something, or Brun would have. I never could be angry with you, I loved you too much. I still love you too much. I thought you were upset because you lost your milk and it was my fault.» «It wasn't your fault, Creb. It was mine. I never blamed you.» «I blamed myself. I should have realized a baby has to keep nursing or the milk will stop, but you seemed to want to be alone with your grief.» «How could you know? None of the men know much about babies. They like to hold them and play with them when they're full and happy, but let them start fussing and all the men are quick to give them back to their mothers. Besides, it didn't hurt him. He's just starting his weaning year, and he's big and healthy even though he's been weaned for a long time.»

«But it hurt you, Ayla.»

«Mama, you hurt?» Durc interrupted, still worried about her scream.

«No, Durc, Mama's not hurt, not anymore.»

«Where did he learn to call you that word, Ayla?»

She flushed slightly. «Durc and I play a game of making sounds sometimes. He just decided to call me by that one.»

Creb nodded. «He calls all the women mother; I guess he needed to find something to call you. It probably means mother to him.» «It does to me, too.»

«You made a lot of sounds and words when you first came. I think your people must talk with sounds.»

«My people are Clan people. I am a woman of the Clan.» «No, Ayla,» Creb gestured slowly. «You are not Clan, you are a woman of the Others.»

«That's what Iza told me the night she died. She said I wasn't Clan; she said I was a woman of the Others.»

Creb looked surprised. «I didn't think she knew. Iza was a wise woman, Ayla. I only found out that night you followed us into the cave.» «I didn't mean to go into that cave, Creb. I don't even know how I got there. I don't know what hurt you so much, but I thought you stopped loving me because I went into that cave.»

«No, Ayla, I didn't stop loving you, I loved you too much.» «Durc hungry,» the child interrupted. He was still disturbed by his mother's scream, and the intense conversation between her and Creb bothered him.

«You're hungry? I'll see if I can find something for you.» Creb watched her as she got up and went to the fireplace. I wonder why she was brought to live with us, Creb thought. She was born to the Others, and the Cave Lion has always protected her; why would he bring her here? Why not back to them? And why would he let himself be defeated, let her have a baby, then allow her to lose her milk? Everyone thinks it's because he's unlucky, but look at him. He's healthy, he's happy, everyone loves him.

Maybe Dorv was right, maybe the spirit of every man's totem mixed with her Cave Lion.

She was right about that, he's not deformed, he's a mixture. He can even make sounds like she can. He's part Ayla and part Clan.

Suddenly, Creb felt the blood drain from his face and gooseflesh rise. Part Ayla and part Clan! Is that why she was brought to us? For Durc? For her son? The Clan is doomed, it will be no more, only her kind will go on. I know it, I felt it. But what about Durc? He's part of the Others, he will go on, but he's Clan, too. And Ura, she looks like Durc, and she was born not long after that incident with the men of the Others. Are their totems so strong they can overcome a woman's in so short a time? It may be; if their women can have Cave Lion totems, they may have to be. Is Ura a mixture, too? And if there is a Durc and a Ura, there must be others, too. Children of mixed spirits, children that will go on, children that will carry the Clan on. Not many, perhaps, but enough.

Perhaps the Clan was doomed before Ayla saw the sacred ceremony, and she was led there only to show me. We will be no more, but as long as there are Durcs and Uras, we will not die. I wonder if Durc has the memories? If only he were older, old enough for a ceremony. It doesn't matter; Durc has more than the memories, he has the Clan. Ayla, my child, the child of my heart, you do carry luck and you brought it to us. Now I know why you came-not to bring us our death, but to give us our one chance for life. It will never be the same, but it is something.

Ayla brought her son a piece of cold meat. Creb seemed lost in thought but looked at her when she sat down.

«You know, Creb,» she said thoughtfully. «Sometimes I think Durc isn't just my son. Ever since I lost my milk, and he got used to going from hearth to hearth to nurse, he eats at every hearth. Everyone feeds him. He reminds me of a cave bear cub, it's like he's the son of the whole clan.»

Ayla felt a great outpouring of sadness from Creb's one dark, liquid eye. «Durc is the son of the whole clan, Ayla. He's the only son of the Clan.»

The first light of predawn glowed through the opening of the cave, filling in the triangular space. Ayla lay awake looking at her son sleeping beside her in the glowing light. She could see Creb in his bed beneath his fur and from his regular breathing knew he was asleep, too. I'm glad Creb and I finally talked, she thought, feeling as though a terrible load had been lifted from her shoulders, but the queasiness in the pit of her stomach that she had been feeling the whole day and night grew worse. She had a dry lump in her throat and thought if she stayed in the cave another instant, she'd suffocate. She slipped quietly out of bed, quickly threw on a wrap and some foot coverings, and moved silently toward the entrance.

She took a deep breath as soon as she stepped beyond the cave's mouth. Her relief was so great, she didn't care that icy rain soaked through her leather wrap. She slogged through the mucky quagmire in front of the cave toward the stream, shivering from a sudden chill. Patches of snow, blackened by soot sifting out from the many fires, sent muddy runnels of water down the slope adding their small measure to the drenching downpour that swelled the icelocked channel.

Her leather foot coverings gave small purchase on the reddish brown ooze, and she slipped and fell halfway down to the stream. Her limp hair, plastered against her head, hung in thick ropes extending into rivulets that cut through the mud clinging to her wrap before the rain washed it away. She stood for a long time on the bank of the watercourse struggling to break free of its frozen keep, and watched the dark water swirl around chunks of ice, finally break them loose, and send them careening to some unseen destination.

Her teeth were chattering when she struggled back up the slippery slope, watching the overcast sky grow imperceptibly lighter beyond the ridge to the east. She had to force herself through an invisible barrier that blocked the mouth of the cave, and felt the sense of uneasiness again the moment she entered.

«Ayla, you're soaked. Why did you go outside in this rain?» Creb gestured. He picked up a piece of wood and put it on the fire. «Get out of that wet wrap and come here by the fire. You'll catch a cold.»

She changed, then sat beside Creb at the fire, grateful that the silence between them was no longer strained.

«Creb, I'm so glad we talked last night. I went down to the stream; the ice is breaking loose. Summer's coming, we'll be able to take some long walks again.» «Yes, Ayla, summer's coming. If you want, we'll take long walks again. In summer.»

Ayla felt a chill. She had a horrible feeling she would never take a long walk with him again, and she had the feeling Creb knew it, too. She reached for him, and they held each other as though for the last time.

By midmorning the rain eased to a dreary drizzle and by afternoon stopped altogether. A wan, tired sun broke through the solid cloud cover but did little to warm or dry the drenched earth. Despite the dismal weather and sparse fare, the clan was excited by so notable an occasion for a feast. A change in leadership was rare enough, but a new mog-ur at the same time made it exceptional. Oga and Ebra would have a part to play in the ceremony, and Brac as well. The seven-year-old would be the next heir apparent.

Oga was a tight bundle of stretched nerves. She jumped up every other moment to check every fireplace where food was cooking. Ebra tried to calm her, but Ebra wasn't so settled herself. Trying to seem more grown-up, Brac was issuing commands to the small children and busy women. Brun finally stepped in and called him off to the side to practice his part once more. Uba took the children to Vorn's hearth to get them out of the way, and after most of the preparations were completed, Ayla joined her. Aside from helping to cook, Ayla's only role would be to make datura for the men since Creb had told her not to make the drink from the roots.

By evening, only a few wisps of clouds remained to dart fitfully before the full moon that lit the bare, lifeless landscape. Inside the cave, a large fire burned in a space behind the last hearth, defined by a circle of torches.

Ayla sat alone on her fur staring at the small hearth fire that snapped and crackled nearby. She still hadn't been able to shake her uneasiness. She decided to walk to the cave's entrance to look at the moon until the festivities began, but just as she stood up, she saw Brun's signal and turned heavy steps the other way. When everyone was in their correct places, Mog-ur came out of the place of the spirits followed by Goov, both cloaked in bearskins.

As the great holy man called forth the spirits for the last time, the years seemed to fall from him. He made the eloquent, familiar gestures with more power and force than the clan had seen for years. It was a masterful performance. He played his audience with the skill of a virtuoso, drawing forth their response with perfect timing in peak after suspenseful peak of evocative emotion, to a climax that wrung out their last drop and left them drained. Beside him, Goov was a faded copy. The young man was an adequate mog-ur, even a good one, but he couldn't match The Mog-ur. The most powerful magician the Clan had ever known had conducted his last and finest ceremony. When he turned it over to Goov, Ayla wasn't the only one who cried. The dry-eyed clan wept with their hearts.

Ayla's mind wandered as Goov went through the motions that retired Brun and raised Broud to the rank of leader. She was watching Creb and remembered the first time she saw his one-eyed, scarred face and reached out to touch him. She recalled his patience when he was trying to teach her to communicate, and her sudden burst of understanding. She reached for her amulet and felt a tiny scar on her throat where he had expertly nicked her to draw her blood as a sacrifice to the ancient spirits that allowed her to hunt. And she cringed with the memory of her clandestine visit to a small cave deep in a mountain. Then she remembered his look of loving sadness and his cryptic, enigmatic statement of the night before.

She only picked at her food at the feast celebrating the succession of the next generation to the realms of authority. The men filed into the small sacred cave to complete their ceremony in seclusion, and Ayla passed out the datura received from Goov, now a mog-ur. But she had no heart for the women's dance, her rhythms lacked verve, and she drank so little of the ceremonial tea, the effects wore off quickly. She returned to Creb's hearth as soon as she appropriately could and was asleep before Creb returned, but she slept fitfully. He stood over her bed watching her and her son before he hobbled to his own sleeping place.

«Mama go hunting? Durc go hunting with Mama?» the boy asked, jumping out of bed and heading for the mouth of the cave. Only a few people were stirring, but Durc was wide awake.

«Not until after breakfast, anyway, Durc. Come back here,» Ayla motioned and got up to get him. «Probably not at all today. Spring is here, but it's not that warm yet.» After he ate, Durc spied Grev and forgot about hunting as he raced to Broud's hearth. Ayla watched him go, with a feeling of tenderness turning up the corners of her mouth. The smile faded when she saw the way Broud looked at him. It made her scalp crawl. Both boys ran out together. Suddenly a feeling of claustrophobia overwhelmed her with such force, she thought she would vomit if she didn't get outside the cave. She bolted for the opening, feeling her heart beating rapidly, and took several deep breaths.

«Ayla!»

She jumped at the sound of her name spoken by Broud, then turned around, bowed her head, and looked down at the new leader.

«This woman would greet the leader,» she gestured formally. Broud seldom stood face to face with her. She was much taller than the tallest man in the clan, and Broud was not among the tallest. He barely reached her shoulder. She knew he didn't like looking up at her.

«Don't go running off anywhere. I'm going to have a meeting out here soon.»

Ayla nodded obediently.

The clan slowly congregated. The sun was shining, and they were glad Broud had decided to have his meeting outdoors in spite of the soggy ground. They waited for a while, then Broud strutted to the place formerly taken by Brun, supremely conscious of his new status.

«As you know, I am your new leader,» Broud started. His nervousness at speaking to the entire clan in his new capacity was betrayed by an opening statement that was patently obvious.

«Since the clan has a new leader and a new mog-ur, this is a good time to announce some other changes,» he continued. «I want to make it known that Vorn is now my second-in-command.»

There were nods; it was expected. Brun thought Broud should have waited until Vorn was older before raising his position above more experienced hunters, but everyone knew it was coming. It's probably just as well to do it now, he said to himself.

«There are some other changes,» Broud motioned. «A woman in this clan is not mated.» Ayla felt herself flush. «Someone must provide for her, and I do not want to burden my hunters with her. I am leader now and I must be responsible for her. I will take Ayla as second woman to my hearth.»

Ayla had expected it, but it didn't make her any happier to know she was right.

She may not like it, Brun thought, but Broud is doing the right thing. Brun looked proudly at the son of his mate. Broud is ready for leadership.

«She has one deformed child,» Broud went on. «I want it known now, no more deformed children will be accepted into this clan. I don't want anyone to think it has anything to do with my personal feelings, when the next one is refused. If she has a normal child, I will accept it.»

Creb was standing near the entrance to the cave and shook his head as he watched Ayla blanch and bow her head lower to hide her face. Well, you can be sure I won't have any more children, Broud, not if Iza's magic works for me, she thought. I don't care if babies are started by men's totems or their organs, you won't start any more in me. I'm not going to give birth to babies that have to die because you think they're deformed.

«I've made it plain before,» Broud went on, «so this shouldn't come as any surprise. I will not have any deformed children living at my hearth.» Ayla's head jerked up. What does he mean? If I have to move to his hearth, my son comes with me.

«Vorn has agreed to take Durc to his hearth. His mate is fond of the boy, in spite of his deformity. He will be well cared for.»

There was a disturbed murmur and a flurry of hand signals from the clan.

Children belonged with their mothers until they were grown. Why would Broud take Ayla but refuse her son? Ayla broke out of her place and threw herself at Broud's feet.

Broud tapped her shoulder.

«I am not through yet, woman. It is disrespectful to interrupt the leader, but I will overlook it this time. You may speak.»

«Broud, you can't take Durc away from me. He's my son. Wherever a woman goes, her children go with her,» she motioned, forgetting to use any form of polite greeting or to phrase her statement as a request in her anxiety. Brun was glowering, his pride in the new leader gone.

«Are you, woman, telling this leader what he can or cannot do?» Broud motioned with a sneer on his face. He was pleased with himself. He had planned this for a long time, and he had gotten just the reaction he had hoped for.

«You are no mother. Oga is more mother to Durc than you are. Who nursed him?

Not you. He doesn't even know who his mother is. Every woman in the clan is mother to him. What difference does it make where he lives? He obviously doesn't care, he eats at everyone's hearth,» Broud said.

«I know I haven't been able to nurse him, but you know he is my son, Broud. He sleeps with me every night.»

«Well, he won't sleep with me every night. Can you deny that Vorn's mate is 'mother' to him? I have already told Goov…I mean the mog-ur, that the mating ceremony will be held after this meeting. There is no point in waiting. You will move to my hearth tonight, and Durc will move to Vorn's. Now go back to your place,» he commanded.

Broud glanced around the clan and noticed Creb leaning on his staff near the cave. The old man looked angry.

But, not nearly as angry as Brun. His face was a black rage as he watched Ayla return to her place. He struggled to control himself, to keep from interfering. There was more than anger in his eyes, the pain in his heart showed, too. The son of my mate, he thought, who I raised and trained and just made leader of this clan. He is using his position for revenge. Revenge against a woman, for wrongs he has imagined. Why didn't I see it before? Why was I so blind to him? Now I know why he raised Vorn's status so soon. Broud arranged the whole thing with him; he planned to do this to Ayla all along.

Broud, Broud, is that the first thing a new leader does? Puts his hunters in jeopardy with a young and inexperienced second to avenge himself against a woman? What pleasure can it bring you to separate a mother and her child when she has suffered so much pain already? Have you no heart, son of my mate? All she has of her son is to share her bed with him at night.

«I am not finished, I am not through,» Broud gestured, trying to get the attention of the shocked and uneasy clan. They finally settled down.

«This man was not the only one raised to a new position. We have a new mog-ur.

There are certain privileges that go with increased status. I have decided that Goov…the mog-ur, will move to the rightful hearth of the magician of the clan. Creb will move to the back of the cave.»

Brun shot a glance at Goov. Was he in on the arrangement, too? Goov was shaking his head with a puzzled look on his face.

«I don't want to move to The Mog-ur's hearth,» he said. «That has been his home ever since we moved into this cave.»

The clan was becoming more than uneasy about their new leader.

«I have decided you will move!» Broud gestured imperiously, angry at Goov's refusal. When he had noticed the crippled old man leaning on his staff glaring at him angrily, he suddenly realized the great Mog-ur was magician no more. What did he have to fear from a deformed old cripple? On impulse, he had made the offer, expecting Goov to jump at the choice spot in the cave as Vorn had jumped at the chance for increased status. He thought it would cement the new mog-ur's loyalty to him, make Goov obligated to him. Broud hadn't counted on Goov's loyalty, and love, for his mentor. Brun was unable to hold back any longer and was just about to speak out, but Ayla beat him to it.

«Broud!» Ayla shouted from her place. His head shot up. «You can't do that! You can't make Creb move from his hearth!» She was stomping toward him full of righteous wrath. «He needs a protected place. The wind blows too hard into the back. You know how he suffers in the winter.» Ayla had forgotten herself as a Clan woman; she was now the medicine woman protective of her patient. «You're doing it to hurt me. You're trying to get back at Creb because he took care of me. I don't care what you do to me, Broud, but leave Creb alone!» She was standing in front of him, towering over him, gesticulating angrily in his face.

«Who gave you permission to speak woman!» Broud stormed. He swung at her with a clenched fist, but she saw t coming and ducked. Broud was startled at reaching nothing but air Rage replaced his surprise as he started after her.

«Broud!» Brun's shout brought him to a standstill. He was too accustomed to obeying that voice, especially when it was raised in anger.

«That is Mog-ur's hearth, Broud, and will be his hearth until he dies. That will happen soon enough without your bringing it on sooner by moving him. He has served this clan long and well; he deserves that place. What kind of leader are you? What kind of a man are you? Using your position to get revenge on a woman? A woman who has never done anything to you, Broud, who couldn't if she tried. You are no leader!» «No, you are the one who is no leader, Brun, not anymore.» Broud had regained the realization of his position, and Brun's, after his initial impulse to obey. «I am leader now! I make the decisions now! You have always taken her side against me, always protected her. Well, you can't protect her anymore!» Broud was losing control, gesticulating wildly, his face purple with rage. «She will do what I say, or I will curse her! And it won't be temporary! You just saw her insolence, and you still stick up for her.

I won't stand for it! Not anymore. She deserves to be cursed for it. And I will! How do you like that, Brun? Goov! Curse her! Curse her! Now, right now! I want her cursed now.

No one will tell this leader what to do, least of all that ugly woman. Did you understand me? Curse her, Goov!»

Creb had been trying to get Ayla's attention from the moment she lashed out at Broud, trying to warn her. It didn't matter to him where he lived, front or back of the cave, it was all the same to him. His suspicions had been aroused from the moment Broud said he would take Ayla as second woman. It was too responsible a move for Broud to make without some reason. But his suspicions hadn't prepared, him for the ugly scene that followed. When he saw Broud order Goov to curse her, the last bit of fight went out of him. He didn't want to see any more, and turned his back to shuffle slowly into the cave. Ayla glanced up just as he disappeared into the hole in the mountain.

Creb wasn't the only one upset by the confrontation. The whole clan was in an uproar, gesturing, shouting, milling around in confusion. Some couldn't bear to watch, while others gazed in rapt disbelief at the spectacle not one of them ever expected to witness in their entire lives. Their lives were too ordered, too secure, too bound by traditions and customs and habits.

They were surprised at Broud's irregular and unreasonable announcements separating Ayla and her son; they were shocked at Ayla's confrontation with the new leader no more than Broud's decision to move Creb; they were stunned as much by Brun's angry denunciation of the man he had just made leader as by Broud's uncontrolled temper tantrum demanding that Ayla be cursed. They were yet to be traumatized.

Ayla was shaking so hard she didn't feel the trembling beneath her feet until she saw people toppling over, unable to keep their balance. Her own face mirrored the stunned expressions of the rest as they changed to fear, and then stark terror. It was then she heard the deep, terrifying rumble from the bowels of the earth.

«Duurrrc!» she screamed, and saw Uba grab for him then fall on top of him as though trying to protect his small body with her own. Ayla started toward them, then suddenly remembered something that filled her with horror.

«Creb! He's inside the cave!»

She scrambled up the swaying slope trying to reach the large triangular entrance.

A huge rock rolled down the steep wall that held the opening and, deflected by a tree that splintered under the impact, crashed to the ground beside her. Ayla didn't notice. She was numb, in shock. The memories locked in her old nightmare were released, but jumbled and confused by sheer panic. In the roar of the earthquake, not even she heard the word in a long forgotten language torn from her lips.

«Motherrr!»

The ground beneath her dropped several feet, then heaved up again. She fell over and struggled to get up, and then saw the vaulted ceiling of the cave collapse. Jagged chunks, torn from the high roof, crashed down and split on impact. Then more fell. All around her, boulders bounced and tumbled down the rocky face, rolled down the gentler slope, and splashed into the icy stream. The ridge to the east cracked and half of it toppled.

Inside the cave it was raining rocks and pebbles and dirt, mixed with the intermittent thunder of large sections of the walls and vaulted dome. Outside, tall conifers danced like clumsy giants and naked deciduous trees shook bare limbs in an ungraceful jitter, moving in speeded time to the thunderous dirge. A crack in the wall, near the east side of the opening, opposite the spring-fed pool, widened with an explosive gush that flushed out loose rock and gravel. It opened another underground channel that deposited its load of debris on the broad front porch of the cave before making its maiden voyage to the stream. The roar from the earth and the smashing rocks overpowered the screams of the terror-stricken people. The sound was deafening.

Finally the quaking subsided. A last few stones tumbled off the mountain, bounced, rolled, then came to rest. Dazed and frightened people started to pick themselves up and wandered around with blank stares trying to collect their shaken wits.

They began to gather around Brun. He had always been their rock, their stability. They gravitated toward the security he had always represented.

But Brun did nothing. He believed, in all his years as leader, the worst judgment he had ever shown was making Broud leader. He realized, now, how blind he had been to the faults of the son of his mate. Even his virtues, his fearless bravado and reckless courage, Brun now saw as manifestations of the same uncaring ego and impulsive temper. But that wasn't the reason Brun refused to act. Broud was leader now, for better or worse. It was too late for Brun to step back in and train another man, though he knew the clan would have let him. The only way Broud could ever hope to lead, the only hope for the clan, was to make him lead now. Broud said he was leader-defiantly, totally out of control, Broud said he was leader. Well, lead, Broud, Brun thought. Do something.

Whatever decisions Broud made from now on, or lack of them, Brun would not interfere.

When the clan was convinced that Brun was not going to take back the leadership, they finally turned to Broud. They were used to their traditions, accustomed to their hierarchy, and Brun had been too good a leader, too strong, too responsible. They were used to his taking command in times of crisis, used to depending on his calm and reasoned judgment. They didn't know how to act on their own, to make decisions for themselves without a leader. Even Broud expected Brun to take over; he needed someone to lean on, too. When Broud finally came to the realization that the burden was now on him, he tried to assume it. He did try.

«Who is missing? Who is hurt?» Broud motioned. There was a small collective sigh of relief. Someone was finally doing something. Family groups started to gather together, and as the clan assembled amid gasps of surprise at seeing a loved one they were afraid was gone, miraculously, no one seemed to be missing. With all the falling rocks and shaking earth, no one was even badly hurt. Bruises, cuts, scrapes, but no broken bones. That wasn't entirely true.

«Where's Ayla?» Uba cried with an edge of panic.

«Here,» Ayla answered, walking back down the slope, forgetting for the moment why she was there.

«Mama!» Durc cried, breaking loose of Uba's protective grip and running to her.

Ayla broke into a run, swooped him up, hugged him tightly, and carried him back.

«Uba, are you all right?» she asked.

«Yes, nothing serious.»

«Where's Creb?» Then Ayla remembered. She shoved Durc at Uba and ran back up the slope.

«Ayla! Where are you going? Don't go into the cave! There may be aftershocks.» Ayla didn't see the warning, nor would she have heeded it. She ran into the cave and straight for Creb's hearth. Stones and gravel cascaded spasmodically, making small piles on the ground. Except for a few rocks and a layer of dust, their place in the cave was undamaged, but Creb was not there. Ayla checked every hearth. Some were totally demolished, but most had some salvageable items. Creb was not at any of the hearths.

She hesitated at the small opening that led to the place of the spirits, then started in, but it was too dark to see. She'd need a torch. She decided to check the rest of the cave first.

A spattering of gravel fell on her and she jumped to the side. A jagged boulder crashed to the ground, grazing her arm. She searched the walls, then crisscrossed the room, poking into deep shadows behind storage containers and large boulders in the unlit cave. She was ready to get a torch, then decided to try one last place.

She found Creb beside Iza's burial cairn. He was lying on his deformed side with his legs pulled up, almost as if they had been tied into a fetal position. The large, magnificent skull that had protected his powerful brain, protected it no longer. The heavy rock that crashed it had rolled a few feet away. He had died instantly. She knelt down beside his body and her tears began to flow.

«Creb, oh, Creb. Why did you go into the cave?» she motioned. She rocked back and forth on her knees, crying out his name. Then, for some inexplicable reason, she stood up and began to make the motions she had seen him make over Iza, the burial rite. Silent tears clouded her vision as the tall blonde woman, alone in a rock-littered cave, flowed through the ancient, symbolic movements with a grace and subtlety as accomplished as those of the great holy man himself. Many of the motions she did not understand. She never would. It was her final offering to the only father she knew.

«He's dead,» Ayla gestured to the faces staring at her as she emerged from the cave.

Broud stared at her along with the rest, then a great fear gripped him. It was she who had found the cave, she whom the spirits favored. And after he cursed her, they shook the earth and destroyed the cave she found. Were they angry at him for wanting her cursed? Did they destroy the cave she had found because they were angry at him? What if the rest of the clan thought he had brought this calamity down on them? In the deepest recesses of his superstitious soul, he quavered before the ill omen and feared the anger of the spirits he was sure he had unleashed. Then, in an impulsive flash of twisted reasoning, he thought if he blamed her before anyone could blame him, no one could say it was his fault, and the spirits would turn on her.

«She did it! It's her fault!» Broud gestured suddenly. «She's the one who made the spirits angry. She's the one who flouted the traditions. You all saw her. She was insolent, she was disrespectful to the leader. She should be cursed. Then the spirits will be happy again. Then they will know how we honor them. Then they, will lead us to a new cave, even better, even luckier. They will. I know they will. Curse her, Goov! Now, do it now! Curse her! Curse her!»

Every head turned to Brun. He stared straight ahead, jaws clenched, fists doubled up, the muscles of his back shaking with tension. He refused to move, refused to interfere, though it took every bit of willpower he had. The clan looked uneasily at each other, then Goov, then Broud. Goov stared at Broud in absolute disbelief. How could he blame Ayla. If anyone, it was Broud's fault. Then Goov understood.

«I am the leader, Goov! You are the mog-ur. I order you to curse her. Curse her with death!»

Goov turned abruptly, picked up a burning, pitchy pine branch from the fire that had been started while Ayla was in the cave, walked up the slope, and disappeared into the, dark triangular mouth. He picked his way carefully around fallen rubble, watching the occasional fall of rocks and gravel, knowing an aftershock could bring tons down on his head, and wishing it would before he did the thing he had been ordered to do. He went into the place of the spirits and lined up the sacred bones of the cave bear in parallel rows, making formal gestures with each one. The last bone was put into the base and out the left eye socket of a cave bear skull. Then he said aloud the words known only to mogurs, the terrible names of the evil spirits. The recognition that gave them power.

Ayla was still standing in front of the cave as he walked past her with unseeing eyes.

«I am the mog-ur. You are the leader. You have ordered Ayla cursed with death. It is done,» Goov motioned, then turned his back on the leader of the clan.

No one could believe it at first. It was too fast. That wasn't the way it should be done. Brun would have discussed it, reasoned it out, prepared the clan for it. But he wouldn't have cursed her in the first place. What had she done? She was insolent to the leader and it was wrong, but was it cause for death? She had just been defending Creb.

And what had Broud done to her? Taken her child from her and turned the old magician out of his hearth to get even with her. Now, no one had a hearth. Why did Broud do it?

Why did he curse her? The spirits had always favored her, she brought good luck, until Broud said he wanted to curse her, until he told the mog-ur to curse her. Broud brought the bad luck on them. Now what would happen to them? Broud had made the protective spirits angry and then unleashed the evil ones. And the old magician was dead, The Mogur couldn't help them now.

Ayla was so lost in her grief, she wasn't aware of the rapid currents swirling around her. She saw Broud order her cursed, and saw Goov tell him it was done, but her grief-filled mind didn't comprehend. Slowly, the meaning impinged on her consciousness. When it penetrated, with all its ramifications, the impact was devastating.

Cursed? Death cursed? Why? What did I do that was so bad? How did it happen so fast? The clan was as slow to comprehend as she. They hadn't fully recovered from the earthquake. Ayla watched them with a curious detachment as, one after the other, eyes became glazed and unseeing. There goes Crug. Who's going to be next. Uka. Now Droog, but not Aga yet. There she goes, she must have seen me look at her.

Ayla wasn't moved into action until Uba's eyes went blank and she began to keen for the mother of the boy she held in her arms. Durc! My baby, my son! I'm cursed, I'll never see him again. What will happen to him? There's only Uba left. She'll take care of him, but what can she do against Broud? Broud hates him because he's my son. Ayla looked wildly around, and saw Brun. Brun! Brun can protect Durc. No one else but Brun can protect him.

Ayla ran to the stoic, strong, sensitive man who, until the day before, had led the clan. She dropped to the ground at his feet and bowed her head. It took a moment before she realized he would never tap her shoulder. When she looked up, he was looking over her head at the fire behind her. If he wanted, his eyes could see her. He can see me, Ayla thought. I know he can. Creb remembered everything I said to him, so did Iza.

«Brun, I know you think I'm dead, a spirit. Don't look away! I beg you, don't look away! It happened too fast! I'll go, I promise I'll go, but I'm afraid for Durc. Broud hates him, you know he does. What will happen to him with Broud as leader? Durc is Clan, Brun. You accepted him. I beg you, Brun, protect Durc. Only you can do it. Don't let Broud hurt him!»

Brun slowly turned his back on the pleading woman, turning his gaze away as though he was shifting position, not as if he was trying to avoid looking at her. But she saw the barest glimmer of recognition in his eyes, a hint of a nod. It was enough. He would protect Durc, he had promised the spirit of the boy's mother. It was true it was too fast, she hadn't had time to ask him before. He would bend his decision not to interfere with Broud that much. He would not let the son of his mate harm Ayla's son.

Ayla got up and walked purposefully toward the cave. She hadn't decided to leave until she told Brun she would, but once she did, it made up her mind. Her grief over Creb's death was pushed into a corner of her mind, to be brought out later when her survival was not at stake. She would go, perhaps to the world of the spirits, perhaps not, but she would not go unprepared.

She hadn't been as aware of the destruction inside the cave the first time she went in. She stared at the unfamiliar place, grateful that the clan had been outside. Taking a deep breath, she hurried to Creb's hearth, ignoring the treacherous condition of the cave.

If she didn't get what she needed to survive, she'd be dead for sure.

She moved a rock from her bed, shook out her fur wrap, and began to pile things on it. Her medicine bag, her sling, two pairs of foot coverings, leggings, hand coverings, a furlined wrap, a hood. Her cup and bowl, waterbags, tools. She went to the back of the cave and found the supply of concentrated, high-energy traveling cakes of dried meat, fruit, and fat. She searched through the rubble and found birchbark packets of maple sugar, nuts, dried fruit, ground parched grain, strips of dried meat and fish, and a few vegetables. It was not too great a variety so late in the season, but adequate. She dumped dust and rocks out of her collecting basket and began to pack it.

She picked up Durc's carrying cloak and held it to her face, feeling the tears well up. She'd have no need for it, she wasn't taking Durc. She packed it. At least she could take something that had been close to him. She dressed herself warmly. It was still early in the season; it would be cold on the steppes. North, it might still be winter. She hadn't made any conscious decision about her direction; she knew she was going to the mainland north of the peninsula.

At the last moment, she decided to take the hide shelter she used when she went with the men on hunting trips, though technically it wasn't hers. She could take anything that belonged to her; whatever was left behind would be burned. And she felt a share of the food was rightfully hers, too, but the shelter was Creb's for the use of the people of his hearth. Creb was gone and he never did have a use for it; she didn't think he would mind.

She packed it on top of her collecting basket, then hoisted the heavy load on her back and tied the thongs that held it securely in place. Tears threatened again as she stood in the middle of the hearth that had been her home since a few days after Iza found her.

She would never see it again. A kaleidoscope of memories tumbled through her mind, stopping for an instant at significant scenes., She thought last of Creb. I wish I knew what caused you such pain, Creb. Maybe someday I'll understand, but I'm so glad we talked the other night, before you left for the spirit world I'll never forget you, or Iza, or the clan.

Then Ayla walked out of the cave.

No one looked at her, but everyone knew when she reappeared. She stopped at the still pool just outside the cave to fill her waterbags, and had another memory. Before dipping in and disturbing the mirrored surface, she leaned over and looked at herself. She studied her features carefully; she didn't seem so ugly this time, but it wasn't herself she was interested in. She wanted to see the face of the Others.

When she stood up, Durc was struggling to get free of Uba's restraining arms.

Something was going on that concerned his mother. He wasn't sure what, but he didn't like it. With a jerk, he broke loose and ran to Ayla.

«You're going away,» he accused, beginning to understand and indignant that he hadn't been told. «You're all dressed and going away.»

Ayla hesitated only a fraction of an instant, then held out her arms as he flew into them. She picked him up and hugged him tight, fighting back tears. She put him down and hunkered down to his level, looking directly into his large brown eyes.

«Yes, Durc, I'm going away. I have to go away.»

«Take me with you, Mama. Take me with you! Don't leave me!» «I can't take you with me, Durc. You have to stay here. with Uba. She will take care of you. Brun will, too.»

«I don't want to stay here!» Durc gestured fiercely. «I want to go with you. Don't go away and leave me!»

Uba was coming toward them. She had to, she had to take Durc away from the spirit. Ayla hugged her son again.

«I love you, Durc. Never forget that, I love you.» She picked him up and put him in Uba's arms. «Take care of my son for me, Uba,» she motioned, looking into her sad eyes that looked back and saw her. «Take care of him my sister.» Broud watched them, getting more furious. The woman was dead, she was a spirit. Why wasn't she acting like one? And some of his clan weren't treating her like one.

«That's a spirit,» he gestured angrily. «She's dead. Don't you know she's dead?» Ayla marched straight to Broud and stood tall before him. He was having trouble not seeing her, too. He tried to ignore her, but she was looking down at him, not sitting at his feet as a woman should.

«I'm not dead, Broud,» she gestured defiantly. «I won't die. You can't make me die. You can make me go away, you can take my son from me, but you can't make me die!»

Two emotions vied within Broud, fury and fear. He raised his fist in an overwhelming urge to strike her, then held it there, afraid to touch her. It's a trick, he told himself, it's a spirit's trick. She's dead, she was cursed.

«Hit me, Broud! Go ahead, acknowledge this spirit. Hit me and you'll know I'm not dead.»

Broud turned to Brun, to look away from the spirit. He lowered his arm, uncomfortable that he could not make it look natural. He hadn't touched her, but he was afraid just raising his clenched fist had acknowledged her, and he tried to pass the bad luck on to Brun.

«Don't think I didn't see you, Brun. You answered her when she was talking to you, before she went into the cave. She's a spirit, you'll bring bad luck,» he denounced.

«Only on myself, Broud, and what more could I have? But when did you see her, talk to me? When did you see her go into the cave? Why did you threaten to strike a spirit? You still don't understand, do you? You acknowledged her, Broud, she has beaten you. You did everything you could to her, you even cursed her. She's dead, and still she won. She was a woman, and she had more courage than you, Broud, more determination, more self-control. She was more man than you are. Ayla should have been the son of my mate.»

Ayla was surprised at Brun's unexpected eulogy. Durc was squirming to get away again, calling out to her. She couldn't bear it and hurried to leave. As she passed Brun, she bowed her head and made a gesture of gratitude. When she reached the ridge, she turned and looked back one more time. She saw Brun raise his hand as if to scratch his nose, but it looked as if he made a gesture, the same gesture Norg had made when they left the Clan Gathering. It looked as if Brun had said, «Walk with Ursus.» The last thing Ayla heard as she disappeared behind the broken ridge was Durc's plaintive wail-

«Maama, Maaama, Maamaaa!»