The Mammoth Hunters

37

"This stuff is terrible!" Tronie complained, shaking out a bed covering at the edge of a gully, and causing more ash to billow up. "We've been cleaning it up for days, but it's in the food, in the water, clothes, beds. It gets into everything, and you can't get rid of it."

"What we need is another good rain," Deegie said, throwing out some dirty water that had been used to wash down the hide covering of the tent. "Or a good snowstorm. That would settle it. This is one year I'm going to look forward to winter."

"I'm sure you are," Tronie said, then looked at her sideways and grinned, "but I think it's because you'll be joined by then and living with Branag."

A beatific smile transformed Deegie's face as she thought of her upcoming nuptials. "I won't deny that, Tronie," she said.

"Is it true that the Mammoth Hearth was talking about postponing the Matrimonial because of this ash?" Tronie asked.

"Yes, and the Womanhood Rites, too, but everyone objected. I know Latie doesn't want to wait, and I don't either. They finally agreed. They don't want any more bad feelings. A lot of people thought they were wrong about Rydag's funeral," Deegie said.

"But some people agreed with them," Fralie said, approaching with a basketful of ash. She dumped it into the gully. "No matter what they had decided, someone would have thought they were wrong."

"I guess you had to live with Rydag to know," Tronie said.

"I'm not so sure," Deegie said. "He lived with us a long time, but I never thought of him as quite human until Ayla came."

"I don't think she's as anxious for the Matrimonial as you, Deegie," Tronie said. "I wonder if something is wrong with her. Is she sick?"

"I don't think so," Deegie said. "Why?"

"She's not acting right. She's preparing to be joined, but she doesn't seem to be looking forward to it. She's getting a lot of gifts, and everything, but she doesn't seem happy. She should be like you. Every time someone says loin, you smile, and get a dreamy look on your face."

"Not everyone looks forward to their joining the same way," Fralie said.

"She did feel very close to Rydag," Deegie commented. "And she is grieving, as much as Nezzie. If he had been Mamutoi, the Matrimonial probably would be delayed."

"I feel bad about Rydag, too, and I miss him – he was so good with Hartal," Tronie said. "We all feel bad, though he was in so much pain I was relieved. I think something else is bothering Ayla."

She did not add that she had wondered about Ayla joining with Ranec from the beginning. There was no reason to make an issue of it, but in spite of Ranec's feeling for her, Deegie still thought Ayla felt more for Jondalar, though she seemed to be ignoring him lately. She saw the tall Zelandonii man come out of the tent, and walk toward the center of the Meeting area. He seemed preoccupied.

Jondalar nodded in response to people who acknowledged him as he passed, but his thoughts were turned inward. Was he imagining it? Or was Ayla really avoiding him? After all the time that he had spent trying to stay out of her way, he still couldn't quite believe, now that he wanted to talk to her alone, that she was avoiding him. In spite of her Promise to Ranec, some part of him always believed that all he had to do was to stop avoiding her and she would be available to him again. It wasn't that she had seemed so eager, exactly, but that she seemed open to him. Now, she seemed closed. He had decided the only way to find out was to face her directly, but he was having trouble finding her at a time and place where they could talk.

He saw Latie coming toward him. He smiled and stopped to watch her. She walked with an independent stride now, smiled confidently at people who nodded greetings. There is a difference, he thought. It always amazed him to see the change that First Rites brought. Latie was no longer a child, or a giggling, nervous girl. Though she was still young, she moved with the assurance of a woman.

"Hello, Jondalar," she said, smiling.

"Hello, Latie. You're looking happy." A lovely young woman, he thought to himself as he smiled. His eyes conveyed his feeling. She responded with an indrawn breath and widened eyes, and then a look that answered his unconscious invitation.

"I am. I was getting so tired of staying in one place all the time. This is the first chance I've had to walk around by myself… or with anyone I want." She swayed a little closer as she looked up at him. "Where are you going?"

"I'm looking for Ayla. Have you seen her?"

Latie sighed, then smiled in a friendly way.

"Yes, she was watching Tricie's baby for a while. Mamut is looking for her, too."

"Don't blame them all, Ayla," Mamut said. They were sitting outside in the warm sunshine, in the shade of a big alder bush. "There were several who disagreed. I was one."

"I don't blame you, Mamut. I don't know if I blame anyone, but why can't they see? What makes people hate them so much?"

"Maybe because they can see how much we are alike, so they look for differences." He paused, then continued, "You should go to the Mammoth Hearth before tomorrow, Ayla. You can't be joined until you do. You're the last one, you know."

"Yes, I suppose I should," Ayla said.

"Your reluctance is giving Vincavec hope. He asked me again today if I thought you were considering his offer. He said, if you didn't want to break your Promise, he was going to talk to Ranec about accepting him as a co-mate. His offer could increase your Bride Price substantially, and give very high status to all of you. How would you feel about it, Ayla? Would you be willing to accept Vincavec as a co-mate with Ranec?"

"Vincavec said something about that on the hunt. I'd have to talk to Ranec and see how he feels about it," Ayla said.

Mamut thought she showed remarkably little enthusiasm, either way. This was a bad time for a joining, with her grief still so strong but with all the offers and attention, it was hard to counsel waiting. He noticed that she was suddenly distracted, and turned to see what she was watching. Jondalar was coming toward them. She seemed nervous and took a step as though she was in a hurry to go, but she couldn't just break off her conversation with Mamut so abruptly.

"There you are, Ayla. I've been looking for you. I'd like to talk to you."

"I'm busy with Mamut now," she said.

"I think we're through, if you want to talk to Jondalar," Mamut said.

Ayla looked down, and then at the old man, avoiding Jondalar's troubled gaze, then said softly, "I don't think we have anything to say to each other, Mamut."

Jondalar felt his face drain, then a shock of blushing heat. She had been avoiding him! She didn't even want to talk to him. "Uh… well, uh… I'm… I'm sorry I bothered you," he said, backing away. Then, wishing he could find a place to hide, he rushed off.

Mamut observed her closely. After he left, she watched him go, her eyes even more troubled than his. He shook his head, but refrained from speaking as they walked together back to Lion Camp.

As they neared, Ayla noticed Nezzie and Tulie coming toward them. Rydag's death had been hard on Nezzie. Just the day before she had brought what was left of his medicine back, and they had both wept. Nezzie didn't want it around as a sad reminder, but wasn't sure if she should throw it away. It made Ayla realize that with Rydag gone, the need to help Nezzie treat him was gone, too.

"We were looking for you, Ayla," Tulie said. She seemed delighted with herself the way someone would who had been planning a big surprise, and that was rare for the big headwoman. The two women opened out something that was carefully folded. Ayla's eyes opened wide, and the two women looked at each other and grinned. "Every bride needs a new tunic. Usually it is the man's mother who makes it, but I wanted to help Nezzie."

It was a stunning garment of golden yellow leather, exquisitely and ornately decorated; certain sections of it were solidly filled in with designs in ivory beads, highlighted by many small amber beads.

"It's so beautiful, and there's so much work in it. The beadwork alone must have taken days and days. When did you make it?" Ayla asked.

"We started it after you announced your Promise, and finished it here," Nezzie said. "Come in the tent and try it on."

Ayla looked at Mamut. He smiled and nodded. He had been aware of the project, and even conspired with them in the surprise. The three women went into the tent, and toward Tulie's sleeping section. Ayla undressed, but she wasn't quite sure how to wear the garment. The women put it on her. It was a specially made tunic that opened down the front, and was tied closed with a finger-woven sash of red mammoth wool.

"You can wear it closed like this if you just want to wear it to show someone," Nezzie said, "but for the ceremony, you should open it like this." She pulled back the top of the front opening and retied the sash. "A woman proudly shows her breasts when she is joined, when she brings her hearth to form a union with a man."

The two women stepped back to admire the bride-to-be. She has breasts to be proud of, Nezzie thought. Mother's breasts, that she can nurse with. Too bad she has no mother here to be with her. She would make any woman proud.

"Can we come in now?" Deegie said, peeking in the tent. All the women of the Camp came in then to admire Ayla in her finery. It seemed they all were in on the surprise.

"Close it now, so you can go outside and show the men, Nezzie said, closing and retying the mating tunic again. "You shouldn't wear it open in public until the ceremony.

Ayla stepped outside the tent to the smiling approval and pleasure of the men of the Lion Camp. Others, who were not of the Lion Camp, were watching her as well. Vincavec had known of the surprise, and made a point of being close by. When he saw her, he resolved that in some way he was going to join with her, if he had to co-mate with ten men.

Another man who was not of the Lion Camp, though most thought of him in that way, was watching, too. Jondalar followed them back, not quite willing to accept her rebuff, or even believe it. Danug told him, and he waited with the others. When she first stepped out, he filled his eyes with the sight of her, then he closed them and his forehead furrowed with pain. He had lost her. She was showing her intention to join with Ranec the next day. He took a deep breath and clamped his teeth together. He could not stay to see her joined with the dark-skinned carver of the Lion Camp. It was time for him to leave.

After Ayla changed back into her regular clothing and left again with Mamut, Jondalar hurried into the tent. He was glad to find it empty. He packed his traveling gear, thanking Tulie again in his mind, laid out everything he would take, and then covered it with a sleeping fur. He planned to wait until morning, say goodbye to everyone, and leave immediately after breakfast. He wouldn't tell anyone until then.

During the day Jondalar visited with special friends he had made at the Meeting, not saying goodbye, but thinking it. In the evening he spent time with each member of the Lion Camp. They were like family. It was going to be hard leaving, knowing he would never see them again. It was even harder finding a way to talk to Ayla, at least once more. He watched her, and when she and Latie went out to the horse lean-to, he quickly followed them.

The words of their conversation were superficial and uncomfortable, but there was an intensity about him that filled Ayla with an uneasy tension. When she went back in, he stayed and brushed the young stallion until it got dark. The first time he saw Ayla, she was helping Whinney give birth, he remembered. He'd never seen anything like that before. It was going to be hard leaving him, too. Jondalar felt more for Racer than he ever thought it was possible to feel for an animal.

Finally he went in the tent, and crawled into his bed. He closed his eyes, but sleep would not come. He lay awake and thought of Ayla, of their time in the valley and their love that grew, slowly. No, not so slowly. He loved her from the beginning, he had just been slow to recognize it, slow to appreciate it, so slow he lost it. He threw away her love, and he would pay for the rest of his life. How could he have been so stupid? He would never forget her, or the pain of losing her, and he would never forgive himself.

It was a long, difficult night, and when the first light of dawn barely glimmered through the tent opening, he could stand it no longer. He couldn't say goodbye, to her or anyone, he just had to leave? Quietly, he gathered up his travel clothing, packs, and sleeping roll, and slipped outside.

"You decided not to wait. I thought as much," Mamut said.

Jondalar spun around. "I… ah… I have to go. I can't stay any longer. It's time I… ah," he stammered.

"I know, Jondalar. I wish you good Journey. You have a long way to go. You must decide for yourself what is best, but remember this, a choice cannot be made if there is none to make." The old man ducked into the tent.

Jondalar frowned, and he walked toward the horse lean-to. What did Mamut mean? Why did Those Who Served the Mother always speak words that could not be understood?

When he saw Racer, Jondalar had a fleeting impulse to ride away on him, at least take away that much, but Racer was Ayla's horse. He patted both of them, gave the brown stallion a hug around the neck, and then noticed Wolf, and gave him an affectionate rub. Then he quickly got up and started walking down the path.

When Ayla woke up the sun was streaming in. It looked like a perfect day. Then she remembered this was the day of the Matrimonial celebration. The day didn't seem so perfect any more. She sat up and looked around. Something was wrong. It had always been her habit to glance over in Jondalar's direction when she first woke up. He wasn't there. Jondalar is up early this morning, she thought. She couldn't get over the feeling that something was very wrong.

She got up, dressed, and went outside to wash and find a twig for her teeth. Nezzie was beside the fire, looking at her, strangely. The feeling that something wasn't right grew distinctly stronger. She glanced toward the horse lean-to. Whinney and Racer seemed fine, and there was Wolf. She went back in the tent and looked around again. Many people were up and gone for the day. Then she noticed that Jondalar's place was empty. He wasn't just gone for the day. His sleeping roll and traveling packs, everything was missing. Jondalar was gone!

Ayla ran out in a panic. "Nezzie! Jondalar is gone! He's not just at Wolf Camp someplace, he's gone. And he left me behind!"

"I know, Ayla. I've been expecting it, haven't you?"

"But he didn't even say goodbye! I thought he was going to stay until the Matrimonial."

"That's the last thing he ever wanted to do, Ayla. He never wanted to see you join with someone else."

"But… but… Nezzie, he didn't want me. What else could I do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to go with him! But he's gone. How could he leave me? He was going to take me with him. That's what we planned. What happened to everything we had planned, Nezzie?" she said, in a sudden burst of tears. Nezzie held out her arms, and comforted the sobbing young woman.

"Plans change, Ayla. Lives change. What about Ranec?"

"I'm not the right one for him. He should join with Tricie. She's the one who loves him," Ayla said.

"Don't you love him? He loves you."

"I wanted to love him, Nezzie. I tried to love him, but I love Jondalar. Now Jondalar is gone." Ayla sobbed anew. "He doesn't love me."

"Are you so sure?" Nezzie asked.

"He left me, and he didn't even say goodbye. Nezzie, why did he leave without me? What did I do wrong?" Ayla pleaded.

"Do you think you did something wrong?"

Ayla stopped and frowned. "He wanted to talk to me yesterday, and I wouldn't talk to him."

"Why wouldn't you talk to him?"

"Because… because he didn't want me. All last winter, when I loved him so much, and wanted to be with him, he didn't want me. He wouldn't even talk to me."

"So when he did want to talk to you, you wouldn't talk to him. It happens that way sometimes," Nezzie said.

"But I do want to talk to him, Nezzie. I want to be with him. Even if he doesn't love me, I want to be with him. But now he's gone. He just got up and walked away. He can't be gone! He can't be gone… far…"

Nezzie looked at her and almost smiled.

"How far could he be, Nezzie? Walking? I can walk fast, maybe I can catch up with him. Maybe I should go after him and see what he wanted to talk to me about. Oh, Nezzie, I should be with him. I love him."

"Then, go after him, child. If you want him, if you love him, go after him. Tell him how you feel. At least give him the chance to tell you what he wanted to say."

"You're right!" Ayla wiped away tears with the back of her hand and tried to think. "That's what I should do. I'm going to do it. Right now!" she said, and started running down the path, even before Nezzie could say another word. She raced across the stepping-stones of the river, and into the field. Then she stopped. She didn't know which way to go, she'd have to track him, and it would take forever to catch up with him this way.

Suddenly, Nezzie heard two piercing whistles. She smiled as the wolf zipped past her, and Whinney perked her ears and followed him. Racer trailed after. She watched down the slope as the wolf loped toward the young woman.

When he got closer, Ayla signaled, and spoke. "Find Jondalar, Wolf. Find Jondalar!"

The wolf started sniffing the ground and the air currents, and when he started off, Ayla noticed the slight traces of trampled grass and broken twigs. She leaped on Whinney's back, and followed.

It was only after she started riding that the questions came to her. What am I going to say to him? How can I tell him that he promised to take me with him? What if he won't listen? What if he doesn't want me?

Rain had washed the coating of volcanic ash from trees and leaves, but Jondalar strode through the meadows and woodlands of the floodplain oblivious to the beauty of a rare summer day. He didn't quite know where he was going, he just followed the river, but with each step that took him farther away, his thoughts weighed heavier.

Why am I leaving without her? Why am I traveling alone? Maybe I should go back, ask her to come with me? But she doesn't want to come with you. She's a Mamutoi. These are her people. She chose Ranec, not you, Jondalar, he said to himself. Yes, she chose Ranec, but did you give her any choice? Then he stopped. What was it Mamut said? Something about choice? "A choice cannot be made if there is none to make." What did he mean?

Jondalar shook his head in exasperation, and then, he realized, he knew. I never gave her a choice. Ayla didn't choose Ranec, at least not at first. Maybe the night of the adoption she had a choice… or did she? She was raised by the Clan. No one ever told her she had a choice. And then I pushed her away. Why didn't I give her a choice before I left? Because she wouldn't talk to you.

No, because you were afraid she wouldn't choose you. Stop lying to yourself. After all that time, she finally decided not to talk to you, and you were afraid she wouldn't choose you, that's why, Jondalar. So you didn't give her the chance. Are you any better off now?

Why don't you go back and give her a choice? At least make the offer? But what will you say to her? She's getting ready for the big ceremony. What will you offer? What can you offer?

You could offer to stay. You could even offer to co-mate with Ranec. Could you stand that? Could you share her with Ranec? If the only other choice is not having her at all, could you stay here and share her?

Jondalar stood still, closed his eyes, and frowned. Only if he had no other choice. What he wanted most was to take her home, and make it her home. The Mamutoi had accepted her, were the Zelandonii less accepting? Some of them, maybe not all of them, but he couldn't promise.

Ranec has the Lion Camp, and many other affiliations. You can't even offer her your people, your affiliations. You don't know if they will accept her, or you. You don't have anything to offer, except yourself.

If he could offer her no more than that, what would they do if his people wouldn't accept them? We could go someplace else. We could even come back here. He frowned. That's a lot of traveling. Maybe he should just offer to stay, establish himself here. Tarneg said he wanted a flint knapper for his new Camp. What about Ranec? More important, what about Ayla? What if she didn't want him at all?

Jondalar was so engrossed in his thoughts, he didn't hear the dull thud of hoofbeats until Wolf suddenly jumped up on him.

"Wolf? What are you doing…" He looked up and stared in disbelief as Ayla slid off Whinney's back.

She walked toward him, shy now, so afraid he would turn his back on her again. How could she tell him? How could she make him listen? What could she do if he wouldn't listen to her? Then she recalled those first wordless days, and the way she had learned to ask someone to listen a lifetime ago. She dropped to the ground, gracefully, from long practice, and bowed her head, and waited.

Jondalar gaped at her, didn't understand for a moment, then remembered. It was her signal. When she wanted to tell him something important, but didn't have the words, she used that Clan signal. But why was she speaking to him in the language of the Clan now? What did she want to tell him that was so important?

"Get up," he said. "You don't have to do that." Then he remembered the proper response. He tapped her shoulder. When Ayla looked up, she had tears in her eyes. He hunkered down on one knee to wipe them away. "Ayla, why are you doing this? Why are you here?"

"Jondalar, yesterday you tried to tell me something, and I wouldn't listen to you. Now I want to tell you something. It is difficult to say, but I want you to listen. That's why I'm asking you this way. Will you listen, and not turn away?"

Hope blazed so hot Jondalar couldn't speak. He only nodded, and held her hands.

"Once you wanted me to go away with you," she began, "and I didn't want to leave the valley." She stopped to take a deep breath. "Now, I want to go with you, anywhere with you. Once you told me that you loved me, that you wanted me. Now, I think you don't want to love me, but I still want to go with you."

"Get up, Ayla, please," he said, helping her up. "What about Ranec? I thought you wanted him." His arms were still around her.

"I don't love Ranec. I love you, Jondalar. I never stopped loving you. I don't know what I did to make you stop loving me."

"You love me? You still love, me? Oh, Ayla, my Ayla," Jondalar said, crushing her to him. Then he looked at her as though he was seeing her for the first time, and his eyes filled with his love. She reached up and his mouth found hers. They came together, holding each other, with a hard and tender passion, full of love, full of longing.

Ayla couldn't believe she was in his arms, that he was holding her, wanting her, loving her, after all this time. Tears filled her eyes, then she tried to stop them, afraid he would misunderstand them again, then she didn't care and let the tears fall.

He looked down at her beautiful face. "You're crying, Ayla."

"It's only because I love you. I have to cry. It's been so long, and I love you so much," she said.

He kissed her eyes, her tears, her mouth, and felt it open to him, gently, firmly.

"Ayla, are you really here?" he said. "I thought I'd lost you, and I knew it was my own fault. I love you, Ayla, I never stopped loving you. You must believe that. I never stopped loving you, even though I know why you thought so."

"But you didn't want to love me, did you?"

He closed his eyes and his forehead knotted with the pain of the truth. He nodded. "I was ashamed that I loved someone who came from the Clan, and I hated myself for feeling ashamed of the woman I loved. I've never been so happy with anyone as I have with you. I love you, and when it was just the two of us, everything was perfect. But when we were with other people… every time you did something that you learned from the Clan, I was embarrassed. And I was always afraid you'd say something, and then everyone would know that I loved a woman who was… abomination." He could hardly say the word.

"Everyone used to tell me I could have any woman I wanted. No woman could refuse me, they said, not even the Mother Herself. It seemed to be true. What they didn't know was that I never knew a woman I really wanted, until I met you. But what would they say if I brought you home? If Jondalar could have anyone, why would he bring home… the mother of a flathead… an abomination? I was afraid they wouldn't accept you, and turn me away, too, unless… I turned against you. I was afraid I might, if I had to choose between my people and you."

Ayla was frowning. She looked down. "I didn't understand. That would be a hard decision for you to make."

"Ayla," Jondalar said, turning her face up to look at him. "I love you. Maybe only now do I realize how important that is to me. Not just that you love me, but that I love you. Now I know, for me there is only one choice. You are more important to me than my people, or anyone. I want to be wherever you are." Her eyes overflowed again, try as she might to stop them. "If you want to stay here and live with the Mamutoi, I will stay and become Mamutoi. If you want me to share you with Ranec… I will do that, too."

"Is that what you want to do?"

"If it's what you want… Jondalar started to say, then remembered Mamut's words. Maybe he ought to give her a choice, tell her his preference. "I want to be with you, that's most important, believe me. I would be willing to stay here, if that's what you want, but if you ask me what I want, I want to go home, and take you with me.

"Take me with you? You aren't ashamed of me any more? You're not ashamed of the Clan, and Durc?"

"No. I'm not ashamed of you. I'm proud of you. And I'm not ashamed of the Clan either. You, and Rydag, have taught me something very important, and maybe it's time to try and teach some others. I've learned so many things that I want to take back to my people. I want to show them the spearthrower, and Wymez's methods of working flint, and your firestones, and the thread-puller, and the horses and Wolf. With all that, they may even be willing to listen to someone trying to tell them that the people of the Clan are children of the Earth Mother, too."

"The Cave Lion is your totem, Jondalar," Ayla said with the finality of absolute knowledge.

"You've said that before. What makes you so sure?"

"Remember when I told you powerful totems are hard to live with? Their tests are very hard, but their gifts, what you learn from them, make it all worth it. You have been through a hard test, but are you sorry now? This year has been hard for both of us, but I have learned so much, about myself, and about the Others. I am not afraid of them any more. You have learned very much, too, about yourself and about the Clan. I think you feared them, in a different way. Now you have overcome it. The Cave Lion is a Clan totem, and you don't hate them any more."

"I think you must be right, and I'm glad a Clan Cave Lion totem has chosen me, if that means I am acceptable to you. I have nothing to offer you, Ayla, except myself. I can't promise any affiliations, not even my people. I cannot make promises, because I don't know if the Zelandonii will accept you. If they don't, we'll have to find some other place to go. I will become a Mamutoi if you want, but I would rather take you home and have Zelandoni tie the knot for us."

"Is that like joining?" Ayla asked. "You never asked me to join with you before. You asked me to come with you, but you never asked me to make a hearth with you."

"Ayla, Ayla, what's wrong with me? Why do I take it for granted that you know everything already? Maybe it's because you know so much that I don't know, and you've learned so much, so fast, that I forget you've just learned it. Maybe I ought to learn a sign for saying things that I don't have words for."

Then, with an amused smile of delight, he hunkered down in front of her with one knee to the ground. He wasn't quite sitting cross-legged, with his head bowed, the way she always did, but he was looking up at her. Ayla was obviously disconcerted, and uncomfortable, which pleased him, because that was always how he felt.

"What are you doing, Jondalar? Men aren't supposed to do that. They don't have to ask permission to speak."

"But I have to ask, Ayla. Will you come back with me, and join with me, and have Zelandoni tie the knot, and make a hearth with me, and make some children for me?"

Ayla started crying again, and felt silly for all the tears she had been shedding. "Jondalar, I never wanted anything else. Yes, to all those things. Now, please, get up."

He stood up, and took her in his arms, feeling happier than he ever had in his life. He kissed her, then held her to him as though he was afraid to let her go, afraid he might lose her, as he very nearly did before.

He kissed her again, and need for her grew with the wonder of her being there. She felt it, and her body responded and was ready for him. But he wanted no taking of her this time. He wanted her fully, completely. He backed away, and shrugged off the traveling pack he still wore. Then he took out a ground cloth and spread it out. Wolf suddenly came bounding up to him.

"You're going to have to stay away for a while," he said, then smiled at Ayla.

She commanded Wolf away, and smiled back at Jondalar. He sat down on the ground cloth and reached his hand up to her. She joined him, already tingling, anticipating, and wanting him so much.

He kissed her then, lightly, and reached for her breast, and savored even the small familiarity of its full, round shape through her light tunic. She remembered, too, and more. Quickly, she pulled the tunic off. He reached for her with both hands, and the next instant, she was on her back, with his mouth firmly on hers. His hand caressed a breast, and found the nipple, and then a warm wet mouth was on her other nipple. She moaned as the drawing sensation sent waves of feeling deep inside to the place that hungered for him. She rubbed his arms, and his broad back, then the back of his neck, and his hair. For just an instant, she was surprised that it wasn't tightly curled. The thought left as quickly as it came.

He was kissing her again, his tongue gently probing. She took his in, then probed back, remembering that his touch was never too much, or too frenzied, but sensitive and knowing. She delighted in the memory, and in the renewal of it. It was almost like the first time, learning him again, and remembering how well he knew her. How many nights had she longed for him?

He tasted the warmth of her mouth, then the salt of her throat. She felt warm shivers tracing her jaw, then the side of her neck. He kissed her shoulder, nibbled lightly, and suckled, playing with the sensitive places he knew were there. Unexpectedly, he took her nipple again. She gasped at the sudden increase in feeling. Then she sighed, and moaned with pleasure as he played them both.

He sat up then, and looked at her, then closed his eyes as though he wanted to memorize her. She was smiling when he opened them again.

"I love you, Jondalar, and I have wanted you so much."

"Oh, Ayla, I ached with wanting you, and yet I almost gave you up. How could I, when I love you so much?" He was kissing her again, holding her tight, as though he feared he might lose her yet. She clung to him with the same fervor. And suddenly, there was no waiting. He held both her breasts, and then untied her waistband. She lifted her hips and pushed off her half-length summer pants, while he unfastened his own, pulled off his shirt, yanked off his footwear.

He hugged her around the waist with his head on her stomach, then moved down between her legs, kissed her mound of hair. Then, he stopped for a moment, pushed her legs apart, and with both hands, held her open, and looked at the deep pink folds, like soft moist flower petals. Then like a bee he dipped and tasted. She cried out, and arched to him, while he explored each petal, each fold, each crease, nibbling, suckling, teasing, reveling in giving her Pleasure, as he had wanted to for days without number.

This was Ayla. This was his Ayla. This was her taste, her honey, and his own member was so full, and so eager. He wanted to wait, wanted this to last, but suddenly she could not. She was breathing hard, and fast, panting, gasping, calling out to him. She reached for him, pulled him up, then reached down to guide him to her warm deep well.

As he slid in, he breathed a deep sigh, and let his full shaft glide in and in, until she enfolded him fully. This was his Ayla. This was the woman he fit, the one who fit him, who held him all. He stayed for a moment, luxuriating in her full embrace. It had been like this with her from the first time, and every time. How could he have dreamed of giving her up? The Mother must have made Ayla just for him, so they could honor Her in full measure, so they could please Her with their Pleasures, as She meant them to.

He pulled back, and felt her thrust to him as he thrust to her. He pulled back again, and pushed, and back and in again. Then suddenly, he was ready, and she was crying out, and they pulled back and in once more, and the wave rolled up and reached the peak, and broke over them in a release of shuddering spent delight.

The resting was part of the Pleasure. She loved the feel of his weight on her then. He was never heavy. Usually he got up first, before she was ready for him to. She could smell herself on him, and it made her smile, reminding her of the Pleasures they had just shared. She never felt quite so complete as then, when they were through, and he was still there, inside her.

He loved the feel of her full body under his, and it had been so long, so stupidly long. But she loved him. How could she still love him after all that? How could he be so lucky? Never, ever again would he let her go.

Finally, he pulled out, rolled over, and smiled at her.

"Jondalar?" Ayla said, after a while.

"Yes."

"Let's go swimming. The river isn't far. Let's go swimming like we used to in the valley, before we go back to Wolf Camp."

He sat up beside her, and smiled. "Let's go!" he said, was up in an instant, then helped her up. Wolf stood up, too, and wagged his tail.

"Yes, you can come with us," Ayla said, as they picked up their things and headed for the river. Wolf leaped after them eagerly.

After they swam and bathed and played with Wolf in the river, and the horses had rolled, and grazed, and relaxed, away from the crowd, Ayla and Jondalar dressed, feeling refreshed, and hungry.

"Jondalar?" Ayla said, standing by the horses.

"Yes."

"Let's ride double on Whinney. I want to feel you close to me."

All the way back, Ayla thought about how she was going to tell Ranec. She was not looking forward to it. When they arrived, he was waiting for her, and was obviously not happy. He had been looking for her. Everyone else had been getting ready for the Matrimonial that evening, either to attend or to participate. Nor did it please him to see them riding double on Whinney, with Racer tagging behind.

"Where have you been? You should be dressed by now."

"I have to talk to you, Ranec."

"We don't have time to talk," he said, with a frantic look in his eye.

"I'm sorry, Ranec. We have to talk. Someplace where we can be alone."

He could only acquiesce. Ayla went into the tent first, and took something from her pack. They walked down the slope toward the river, and then along its bank. Finally, Ayla stopped, reached inside her tunic, and pulled out the carving of a woman transcending into her spiritual bird form, the muta Ranec had carved for her.

"I have to give this back to you, Ranec," Ayla said, holding it out to him.

Ranec jumped back, as though he had been burned. "What do you mean? You can't give that back! You need it to make a hearth. You need it for our Matrimonial," he said, an edge of panic creeping into his voice.

"That's why I have to give it back. I can't make a hearth with you. I'm leaving."

"Leaving? You can't leave, Ayla. You Promised. Everything's arranged. The Matrimonial is tonight. You said you would join with me. I love you, Ayla. Don't you understand? I love you." The panic rose in Ranec's voice with each statement.

"I know," Ayla said softly. The shock and pain in his eyes hurt her. "I Promised, and everything is arranged. But I have to leave."

"But why? Why now, all of a sudden?" Ranec said, his voice high-pitched, almost strangled.

"Because I have to leave now. It's the best time to travel, and we have a long way to go. I'm going with Jondalar. I love him. I never stopped loving him. I thought he didn't love me…"

"When you thought he didn't love you, then I was good enough? Is that how it was?" Ranec said. "All the time we spent together, you were wishing it was him. You never loved me at all."

"I wanted to love you, Ranec. I care about you. I wasn't always wishing for Jondalar, when I was with you. You made me happy many times."

"But not always. I wasn't good enough. You were perfect, but I wasn't always perfect for you."

"I never looked for perfect. I love him, Ranec. How long could you love me knowing that I love someone else?"

"I could love you until I die, Ayla, and into the world beyond. Don't you understand? I will never love anyone again the way I love you. You can't leave me." The dark, magnetic artist was pleading with her, with tears in his eyes; he had never pleaded for anything before in his life.

Ayla was feeling his pain, and she wished there was something she could do to make it less. But she could not give him the one thing he wanted. She could not love him the way she loved Jondalar.

"I'm sorry, Ranec. Please. Take the muta." She held it out again.

"Keep it!" he said, with as much venom as he could. "Maybe I'm not good enough for you, but I don't need you. I can have my pick of this place. Go ahead, run off with your flint knapper. I don't care."

"I can't keep it," Ayla said, putting the muta down on the ground at his feet. She bowed her head and turned to go.

She walked back along the river, with pain in her heart for the pain she had caused. She hadn't meant to hurt him so badly. If there had been any other way, she would have chosen it. She hoped that never again would someone love her that she couldn't love back.

"Ayla?" Ranec called out. She turned back and waited for him to catch up with her. "When are you leaving?"

"As soon as I can get packed."

"It's not true, you know. I do care." His face was etched with grief and pain. She wanted to run to him, comfort him, but she didn't dare encourage him. "I always knew you loved him, from the beginning," he said. "But I loved you so much, I wanted you so much, I didn't want to see it. I tried to convince myself that you loved me, and I hoped, in time, you really would."

"Ranec, I'm so sorry," she said. "If I hadn't loved Jondalar first, I would have loved you! I could have been happy with you. You were so good to me, and you always made me laugh. I do love you, you know. Not the way you want, but I will always love you."

His black eyes were full of anguish. "I'll never stop loving you, Ayla. I'll never forget you. I'll take this love to my grave," Ranec said.

"Don't say that! You deserve more happiness than that."

He laughed, a bitter, hard laugh. "Don't worry, Ayla. I'm not ready for that grave, yet. At least not enough to make it happen. And someday, I may join with a woman, make a hearth, and she will have children. I may even love her. But no other woman will ever be you, and I will never feel about another woman the way I feel about you. You can only happen once in any man's lifetime." They started walking back.

"Will it be Tricie?" Ayla asked. "She loves you."

Ranec nodded. "Perhaps. If she'll have me. Now that she has a son, she will be in even greater demand, and she had plenty of offers before."

Ayla stopped, and looked at Ranec. "I think Tricie will have you. She's hurt now, but that's because she loves you so much. But there is something else you should know. Her son, Ralev, he's your son, Ranec."

"You mean he's the son of my spirit?" Ranec frowned. "You are probably right."

"No, I don't mean he's the son of your spirit. I mean Ralev is your son, Ranec. He is the son of your body, your essence. Ralev is your son just as much as he is Tricie's son. You started him growing inside her, when you shared Pleasures with her."

"How do you know I shared Pleasures with her?" Ranec said, looking a little uncomfortable. "She was a red-foot last year, and very dedicated."

"I know because Ralev was born, and he is your son. That's how all life is started. That's why Pleasures honor the Mother. It is the beginning of life. I know this, Ranec. I promise you, it is true, and this promise cannot be broken," Ayla said.

Ranec frowned with concentration. It was a strange new idea. Women were mothers. They gave birth to children, daughters and sons. But could a man have a son? Could Ralev be his son? Yet Ayla said it. It had to be. She carried the essence of Mut. She was the Spirit Woman. She might even be the Great Earth Mother incarnate.

Jondalar checked the packs again, then led Racer to the head of the path, where Ayla was saying goodbye. Whinney was packed, and waiting patiently, but Wolf was running excitedly between them, knowing something was happening.

It had been difficult for Ayla to leave behind the people she loved when she was expelled from the Clan, but she'd had no choice. Saying goodbye, voluntarily, to the people she loved in the Lion Camp, knowing she would never see them again, was even harder. She had cried so many tears already this day, she wondered how she had any more to shed, yet her eyes watered anew each time she hugged another friend.

"Talut," she sobbed, hugging the big, red-haired headman. "Did I ever tell you it was your laughter that made me decide to visit? I was so scared of the Others, I was ready to ride right back to the valley, until I saw you laughing."

"You are going to have me crying in a moment, Ayla. I don't want you to go."

"I already am crying," Latie said. "I don't want you to go, either. Remember the first time you let me touch Racer?"

"I remember when she let Rydag ride Whinney," Nezzie said. "I think that was the happiest day of his life."

"I'm going to miss the horses, too," Latie wailed, as she clung to Ayla.

"Maybe you can get a little horse of your own someday, Latie," Ayla said.

"I will miss the horses, too," Rugie said.

Ayla picked her up and gave her a squeeze. "Then maybe you'll have to get a little horse, too."

"Oh, Nezzie," Ayla cried. "How can I thank you? For everything? You know, I lost my mother when I was little, but I'm very lucky. I've had two mothers to replace her. Iza took care of me when I was a little girl, but you are the mother I needed to become a woman."

"Here," Nezzie said, handing her a package, and trying not to give way to tears entirely. "It's your Matrimonial tunic. I want you to have it for your joining with Jondalar. He is like a son to me, too. And you are my daughter."

Ayla hugged Nezzie again, then looked up at her big, strapping son. When she hugged Danug, he hugged her back with no reservations. She felt the maleness of his strength, and the warmth of his body, and a momentary spark of his attraction to her as he whispered in her ear, "I wish you had been my redfoot."

She backed off, and smiled. "Danug! You are going to be such a man! I wish I were staying to see you grow into another Talut."

"Maybe, when I'm older, I'll make a long Journey and come to visit you!"

She hugged Wymez next, and she looked for Ranec, but he was not around. "I'm sorry, Wymez," she said.

"I am sorry, too. I wanted you to stay with us. I would have liked to have seen the children you would have brought to his hearth. But Jondalar is a good man. May the Mother smile on your Journey."

Ayla took Hartal from Tronie's arms, and was delighted at his giggle. Then Manuv picked up Nuvie, for Ayla to kiss.

"She is here only because of you. I will not forget it, and neither will she," Manuv said. Ayla embraced him, then Tronie and Tornec, too.

Frebec held Bectie, while Ayla made her last farewells to Fralie and the two boys. Then she embraced Crozie. She held back stiffly at first, though Ayla felt her shaking. Then the old woman clutched her, tight, and there was a tear glistening in her eye.

"Don't forget how to make white leather," she commanded.

"I won't, and I have the tunic with me," Ayla said, then with a sly smile, she added, "But, Crozie, from now on you should remember. Never play Knucklebones with a member of the Mammoth Hearth."

Crozie looked at her in surprise, and, then cackled a laugh, as Ayla turned to Frebec. Wolf had joined them, and Frebec rubbed behind his ears.

"I'm going to miss this animal," he said.

"And this animal," Ayla said as she gave him a hug, "is going to miss you!"

"I will miss you, too, Ayla," he said.

Ayla found herself in the middle of a crush of people from the Aurochs Hearth, as all the children and Barzec crowded around her. Tarneg was there, too, with his woman. Deegie waited with Branag, and then the two young women collapsed in each other's arms in a new freshet of wet eyes.

"In some ways, it's harder to say goodbye to you than anyone, Deegie," Ayla said. "I never had a friend like you, who was my age, and could understand me."

"I know, Ayla. I can't believe you're leaving. Now, how are we going to know who has a baby first?"

Ayla backed away and looked at Deegie, critically, then smiled. "You will. You already have one started."

"I wondered about it! Do you really think so?"

"Yes. I'm sure of it."

Ayla noticed Vincavec was standing beside Tulie. She brushed his tattooed cheek lightly.

"You surprised me," he said. "I didn't know he would be the one. But then, everyone has weaknesses." He gave Tulie a knowing glance.

Vincavec was displeased that his reading of the situation was so far off. He had totally discounted the tall blond man, and he was somewhat miffed at Tulie because she had accepted his matched pieces of amber knowing that it was not likely he would be getting what he was bargaining for, in spite of the fact that he had pushed them on her. He had been making pointed comments implying that she had accepted his amber because of her weakness for it, and that she didn't give full value. Since they were ostensibly a gift, she couldn't return them, and he was taking full value in his cutting remarks.

Tulie glanced at Vincavec before she approached Ayla, making sure he was watching, then she gave the young woman a warm and sincere embrace.

"I have something for you. I'm sure everyone will agree, these are perfect for you," she said, then dropped two beautiful, matched pieces of amber in Ayla's hand. "They will match your Matrimonial tunic. You might consider wearing them on your ears."

"Oh, Tulie," Ayla said. "This is too much. They are beautiful!"

"They are not too much, Ayla. They were meant for you," Tulie said, looking back triumphantly at Vincavec.

Ayla noticed Barzec was smiling, too, and Nezzie was nodding her head in agreement.

It was hard for Jondalar to leave the Lion Camp, too. They had made him welcome, and he had grown to love them. Many of his goodbyes were tearful. The last person he spoke to was Mamut. They embraced and rubbed cheeks, then Ayla joined them. "I want to thank you," Jondalar said. "I think you knew from the beginning that I had a hard lesson to learn." The old shaman nodded. "But I have learned a great deal from you and the Mamutoi. I have learned what has meaning and what is superficial, and I know the depths of my love for Ayla. I have no more reservations. I will stand beside her against my worst enemies or best friends."

"I will tell you now something else you must know, Jondalar," Mamut said. "I knew her destiny was with you from the beginning, and when the volcano erupted, I knew she would be leaving with you soon. But remember this. Ayla's destiny is much greater than anyone knows. The Mother has chosen her, and her life will have many challenges, and so will yours. She will have need of your protection, and the strength your love has gained. That is why you had to learn that lesson. It is never easy to be chosen, but there are always great benefits, too. Take care of her, Jondalar. You know, when she worries about others, she forgets to take care of herself."

Jondalar nodded. Then Ayla hugged the old man, smiling through dewy eyes.

"I wish Rydag were here. I miss him so much. I learned lessons, too. I wanted to go back for my son, but Rydag taught me that I must let Durc live his own life. How can I thank you for everything, Mamut?"

"No thanks are necessary, Ayla. Our paths were meant to cross. I have been waiting for you without knowing it, and you have given me much joy, my daughter. You were never meant to go back for Durc. He was your gift to the Clan. Children are always a joy, but pain, too. And they all must lead their own lives. Even Mut will let Her children go their own way, someday, but I fear for us if we ever neglect Her. If we forget to respect our Great Earth Mother, She will withhold Her blessings, and no longer provide for us."

Ayla and Jondalar mounted the horses, waved, and said last goodbyes. Most of the encampment had come to wish them a good Journey. As they started out, Ayla kept looking for one last person. But Ranec had already said his goodbyes and he could not face a more public farewell.

Ayla finally saw him when they started down the path, standing alone, off by himself. With a great heaviness of spirit, she stopped and waved to him.

Ranec waved back, but in his other hand he held clutched to his breast a piece of ivory, carved into the shape of a transcendent bird-woman figure. Into every notch that was carved, every line that was etched, he had lovingly carved every hope of his aesthetic and sensitive soul. He had made it for Ayla, hoping it would charm her to his hearth, as he hoped his laughing eyes and sparkling wit would charm her to his heart. But as the artist of great talent and charm and laughter watched the woman he loved ride away, no smile graced his face, and his laughing black eyes were filled with tears.