Chapter Four: Ayla

Jondalar paused in rolling up the furs as the woman on horseback returned. As Ayla drew closer, the two ptarmigan slung over Whinney's back became apparent. He grinned.

'You always hunt those,' he said. 'What will Wolf eat?'

'I still have some of the food Talut gave us,' Ayla responded. 'He included some meaty bones for Wolf. There's one left.'

'Just one?' Jondalar said. 'How do we feed him tomorrow?'

'I can always hunt more,' Ayla said. Jondalar marvelled at how unconcerned she seemed. 'You seem to have thought this out.'

'Of course,' Ayla said, bending down to Wolf and ruffling the fur on his neck. 'He's my baby.'

Jondalar shook his head to himself. He had never understood Ayla's attraction to the wolf. Returning his attention to the furs, it was only a short time before he had them attached securely to Racer's back.

'Are you sure there's much more we can get from your valley?' he asked.

'I just want to be sure, Jondalar,' Ayla responded. 'Besides, I remember seeing a cave not far away from where the valley ends. I want to look at it again.'

'We're not going to be staying there, Ayla,' Jondalar said.

'But we still have to plan our journey,' Ayla said. 'That cave is out of the valley, where there are cave lions, and it means we don't have to take the horses out of the valley again. That takes a long time.'

Jondalar sucked at his teeth. He didn't want to waste time.

Ayla smiled, and put a hand on his arm. 'Jondalar,' she said lightly, 'it won't take long. And we do have to plan.'

Jondalar sighed, then smiled at her. 'You're right,' he said. 'Sorry. I just want to go home.'

Ayla smiled sadly and turned away. With a lurch in his stomach, Jondalar remembered how she'd introduced herself as Ayla of No People, and how she had lost her family twice – not just when her native clan was killed, but when the Clan turned her out of their home.

'I know,' she said, no sign of her emotion creeping into her voice. 'I want to go, too.'

Jondalar went in front of her and kissed her lightly. Smiling at each other, they mounted the horses and trotted off in the direction of the valley.

Ayla's been thinking a lot about her family, Jondalar thought to himself as they rode. I wonder what it is?

*

Weary, Durc called the group to a halt. Relieved, the woman put down children and unpacked food, and men put down their burdens and stretched out their feet. Grev lit a fire with the piece of coal they had carefully preserved from home – he'd had to sneak as everyone slept to ensure they had one. He stood by Durc as the man looked out thoughtfully at the small troop of people who'd come with.

'We have less than we did going to the Clan Gathering,' Durc commented.

'We can only bring what one would use for a day trip,' Grev replied.

'True,' Durc said, then fell silent.

There had been changes, he remembered. After Broud became leader, there had been many changes.

Durc remembered how, years ago, boys had to be much older before they could be men. Brun had told him Broud hadn't become a man until he was eleven and hadn't taken a mate until he was thirteen; these numbers meant little to most of the Clan, but Durc new them, and knew things were different. Durc had been a man when he was eight years old – he had mated the year later, when Ura had become a woman. Zoun had had to learn fast, faster than Goov had needed to learn when he was acolyte to Mog-ur. Men went hunting more and came back with less. Everyone was thinner than they had been at the last Clan Gathering.

This must work, Durc thought. Grey Wolf, please guide us. Save the Clan. Give me a sign the Clan will be safe.

Something caught Durc's eye. Going over to a tree, he saw a few strands of long, grey wolf hairs caught in the bark. Feeling stunned, he snatched them quickly and fumbled to put them in his amulet.

It was a sign. His clan would find a home.

*

After a long day, Broud came back, exhausted yet spurred on by anger. It had been three days. For three days, he and what remained of his clan had subsided on dried nuts and whatever could be caught with a sling. The food they had stored to prepare for hard times had spoilt and had to be thrown out. Broud had no woman to go gathering for him, the ones that were left were too old and could only gather what was close to the cave. He had stuck it out for the first day, but on the second day had gone out himself to get food. It may be woman's work, and he was ashamed as he did it, but hunger overrode stubbornness.

Broud stormed into Brun's hearth as he entered the hut, furious. 'They're gone!' he motioned furiously. 'It's been three days! They're gone – they're all gone!'

'What did you expect, Broud?' Brun replied with forced calm. Broud's anger turned to confusion. 'What?'

'What did you expect from them, Broud?' Brun went on. 'Did you think they would be loyal to you forever? You didn't take care of them, Broud. Our status dropped at the Clan Gathering. You were mean to everybody. Nobody in the clan was happy, Broud – you must have noticed.' Brun felt the shame that had haunted him for years come to the surface, and he looked down as he motioned again. 'I should never have kept you as the son of my mate, Broud. I should never have made you a leader.'

Broud wheeled away and walked out of the cave again. He felt it was foolish, but the words stung.

'What's this?' he motioned angrily to himself. 'Are you still a boy? Do you still take shame when an old man is upset with you?'

The words didn't work. He still felt ashamed, like Brun would never want to look at him again. Sitting down on a log, for the first time Broud considered moving the remaining people to the nearest clan.

He'd had his chance. If he had known, he probably could have done something. Now it was too late.