Chapter 25: Captured
Camma noticed her first. The Zelandoni, although not overtly muscular, was very fit and radiated a sense of strength and easy confidence. Camma knew a leader when she saw one and felt a moment of disquiet as the attractive blonde woman walked among them, looking at each of them as if to acknowledge each in their turn with an ease and grace that Camma had to work to achieve.
Camma was used to leadership, but the Chimu were a small people compared to the Zelandonii, and to be at ease in ones manner toward others, to just assume that everyone present would follow you, that was something she would have to learn, she told herself. 'Yes, there was much I can learn from this unusual woman,' she thought.
The other two Zelandoni as well as the cave leaders traveling with them were at the main outside hearth when Ayla approached. Camma stood and greeted Ayla, hands held out to take hers. "We're glad that your mate is doing better Zelandoni. It is good that he will recover. I would like to speak for the Chimu people and say thank you. We thank you for all you have done for us and we honor your suffering in our cause."
After a brief pause, she continued with regret in her voice, "Looking back, I wish we had responded differently when those two men first arrived among us, but they fooled us all into believing they were from the Spirit World. By the time I understood that they were tricksters, some of my people had sworn their loyalty to them.
"We have learned a hard lesson, but with the Zelandonii's help we will come through this and be stronger for it, and, I might add, a less gullible people in the future."
Ayla gripped the Chimu leader's hands tightly in return, showing her own gratitude with a smile. "I speak for the Zelandonii when I say that we appreciate your hospitality and as far as gratitude is concerned, you owe us no thanks. These troublemakers came from our lands as outcasts. It is only right and fitting that we drive them from yours." There were nods and sounds of agreement from the Zelandonii leaders.
"Have we any information on the whereabouts of the people we seek?" Ayla asked as she turned to the task at hand.
"Yes First Zelandoni, they've been seen and we know where they are camped. I have two hunters from the Nineteenth Cave watching them now, in case they move," Manvelar said.
"How far away are they now?" Ayla asked.
Manvelar responded carefully, "We could be near their camp by nightfall. It appears that they are leaving the area. We can't be sure, but since their capture of your daughter and her escape with Cambarre's help, they seem to be on the run, moving farther east each day."
"I wonder if we should just let them go," Camma said hesitantly. "That way there wouldn't be any more violence and the possibility of more deaths..."
"I understand your wish for peace," Ayla replied. "But Jondalar and I have traveled through the eastern territory and we know those people. I wouldn't wish Brukeval and Madroman on them. Besides, we should try to reclaim the misguided men who still follow them. I'm not sure they are still happy about having pledged themselves to that pair."
"Then we leave to follow and capture them?" Camma asked, looking around at the group of leaders.
"Yes, let's get this over with, once and for all," Joharran said. "Zelandoni, if we leave within the hour we should be near enough to confront them by tomorrow." Joharran looked at Ayla gesturing toward Groog, "Maybe you could ask the Clan man to send their hunters into Long Valley to cut off anyone fleeing north into Clan territory?"
"That is a sensible idea Joharran," Ayla agreed. She knew that Joharran had suffered over his brother's condition. He hadn't been able to do anything to help, other than to search with the others. She could tell by his expression that he was eager to contribute something meaningful. He wanted to turn his strength and experience into physical action.
"I will discuss it with Groog's Mog-ur," she looked at the Mog-ur and nodded. "I may have to go with him to speak to the leader. In the Clan, only the leader makes a decision that could put his hunters in danger."
-o-
Jonayla had been interpreting what was said for the Mog-ur who stood to the back of the gathering beside Groog. He was silent and unmoving with his arms folded over his chest. Although to the people around him he gave the impression of impervious stoicism, in reality he could feel their stares and their apprehension. As a Mog-ur of the Clan, he was used to eliciting some fear and respect so this was not unusual, but the rude stares that were furtively directed at him by these leaders of the Others was disconcerting.
No one would know of his discomfort, other than Groog and Dula, and if she had been there and of course the Other's Mog-ur. Because the Clan's form of communication was dependent on subtle nuance and on barely perceptible changes in expression, gesture and posture, one who was familiar with it, could discern the subtlest reactions in another, where any Zelandonii or Chimu, for that matter, wouldn't notice a thing.
Now that the decisions were made by the leaders and everyone had gone to prepare for departure, Ayla signed to Groog and Mog-ur to follow her to the nearby stream, where it was quieter so they would be able to communicate without interruption.
Ayla stepped over to the Mog-ur and faced him, "Mog-ur, we will find these men who have caused your people harm and we will subdue them. If you would return to your people and ask them to stop anyone fleeing to the north we should have this unpleasantness done before sunset tomorrow. Do you think this will be agreeable to your leader?"
Ayla noticed that the Mog-ur was no longer looking at her as if she were some strange exotic being. She had finally convinced him through her interaction with the leaders of her people that even though she was female, she was a leader among them. It amazed her how nimble this man's mind was. She knew how hard it was for most men of the Clan to accept a different way of thought other than what had been passed down to them in the memories over many generations.
"As you have said, I am Mog-ur and I intercede with the Spirit World for the people of the Clan. It would be best if one of your leaders came back with me to discuss what it is you need from my people." He said this knowing that being a female would not help her cause with his leader.
"I see. Well, it will have to be me, because the only man who can speak enough Clan to be understood would be Jondalar and he isn't well enough to travel yet. Do you think your leader will speak about necessities with a female?" Ayla was curious what this man would say.
"I will explain to Mongar that in your world, you are a great spiritual leader, a Mog-ur of Mog-urs. Maybe he will listen."
"Very well," Ayla replied. Looking at her daughter who had followed them, "Jonayla, you will need to stay here and care for your father. I will need to go with Mog-ur, Dula and Groog back to their cave."
"Yes mother." Jonayla was disappointed, but she knew that her mother was right. Dula couldn't stay behind on her own, plus the fact Dula's Clan might need the Medicine Woman even now. Jonayla knew that her mother would worry if her father didn't have one of them overseeing his care.
Cambarre was close by. Ayla had noticed that the two young people had remained close to each other since their return. She wondered what their relationship was now, after their adventure and escape from the Shaman's camp. She would have to ask her daughter when there was time. For now she would ask Cambarre to come with her as escort for the Clan members and as travel companion when she left them to rejoin her people. The young man had proven himself capable and besides, she wanted to get to know him better. If he and Jonayla were now such good friends, perhaps even sharing pleasures, she thought it wise to spend some time with him.
Ayla looked over at the young man, "Cambarre, would you accompany me on the trek to the Clan cave? I would like a man who can think fast on his feet and can use a weapon in his defense. Once we finish talking with the Clan leader, I would like to have a capable travel companion with me when I return to our people through the forest. We may find ourselves at risk of running into some of the renegades. Will you come?"
"Yes Zelandoni, it would be an honor to travel with you," Cambarre said, actually feeling honored to be asked. If he admitted it, he did admire the First Zelandoni and would indeed like to travel with her. He looked over at Jonayla to see how she felt and saw that she looked happy with the idea. "When do we leave?"
"Within the hour. First, I must speak with the cave leaders to let them know what I will be doing and see that Jondalar and Jonayla are all settled. Then I'll come to collect you and our Clan friends, and we'll be ready to leave." Ayla thought for a moment. "You do use hunting signs, yes?"
"Yes Zelandoni, I know all the signs for hunting."
"Good, that means you can communicate on a basic level with the Clan people, since the hunting signals came from their language." She smiled at the young man's realization that he'd been using Clan signs all these years.
-o-
It was just past mid-day and the sun was directly overhead when Groog signaled a halt. He turned to his Mog-ur and signed, "There are people ahead, waiting in stealth."
From the hill where they stood the Mog-ur looked intently down into the glade that they would pass through, but could see no one. Ayla tapped him on the arm and signed, "They are to your left. See the largest tree with the trunk that is as big across as a man is tall? There is someone hiding behind it. There is also someone at the far side of the open area where the little stream flows. That person is completely hidden now, but I saw movement there too."
Groog looked at the female Mog-ur with growing respect. He realized that she had seen everything he had, that she was truly a hunter as accomplished as he. He'd already known that she could use weapons, but now in just a few words she had proven that she could also recognize signs that only a hunter would. "What should we do?" he signed, now looking at Ayla. A Clan hunter was asking a female what he should do. The realization that she had won Groog's full respect warmed her.
"We have to assume that whoever is hiding there means to ambush anyone traveling this way. The only people willing to do something like that would be the Shaman's men. I am surprised that there is more than one group of them out here. I was told that their camp was some way to the east, so there must be at least two groups. "Actually that might be good," Ayla mused. "Splitting up makes them weaker.
"I don't think they know we are here yet, so we have two options. We can go around them undetected or we can confront them. I feel confident that with three men such as you," and Ayla looked at each man in turn, "we could take them. I would hate to leave them here to molest someone else less prepared to deal with them. Groog, what would be your guess as to how many people are down there waiting?"
Groog looked down the hill into the glade for a long moment before answering. "It is impossible to tell for sure," he signed silently. "If there are some good hunters among them they would be well hidden, but I would guess there are no more than the fingers on one hand."
"That's my guess also," replied Ayla. "I will walk down the trail while you and Mog-ur go into the forest to the right and Cambarre to the left with weapons ready. They will most likely feel confident enough with five against one to try to capture me rather than hurt me. So when they show themselves, you can all step out with weapons raised ready to attack from the sides and from behind."
"Zelandoni, there is risk in that plan. What if they don't wait but use a spearthrower instead?" Cambarre asked, frowning with worry.
"Cambarre, we're all in this together in equal partnership with equal risk. You are all well versed in the use of weapons, but I feel that I'm best at the sling and in this case a sling is less obvious than a spearthrower at the ready. I think it should be me to take the trail."
Cambarre remained silent. How could he argue with her? He felt, of all of them, she was probably the most accomplished with each of the weapons they had with them. After all, she and Jondalar had introduced the spearthrowers to the people in the first place and everyone knew how accomplished she was with a sling. He'd never seen anyone who could use one with more skill than her.
Ayla was about to move when the Mog-ur tapped her on the shoulder. Ayla turned to look at him and he gave her the sign of luck, from one hunter to another. She knew that he was giving her the respect that one man would give another and she was warmed with gratitude, but then the Clan Mog-ur went one step farther, eliciting a gasp from Dula, the Medicine Woman.
He spoke her name quietly, "Ayla," and then he signed, "My personal name is "Brog," speaking his name out loud, he continued to sign, "I am First Clan Mog-ur for seven caves. Six other Mog-urs address me by my name. I now share it with you as an equal. You may use my personal name from now on when addressing me. Good hunting, "Ayla."
"Brog... It is an honor to speak your name in friendship," Ayla replied, using the correct formula for such an occasion. She had never thought to actually be in a position to recite the formula of equal friendship with a Clan man, but was greatly touched by this sign of respect. Ayla smiled in her mind, 'Wonders never cease…'
In the Clan way, she would say no more, but nodded her gratitude and stepped out of the woods and began to walk down the trail, while her companions melted into the forest on either side.
-o-
Madroman wasn't happy to have been sent away from the main group. Brukeval was becoming more and more dictatorial, to the point that Madroman wondered who was in charge. At first he had enjoyed the power he'd had over these people in the north. It had been fun to make them fear him. Brukeval had encouraged him and supported him.
Everything had gone well until that red-haired leader of the Chimu began to doubt his powers. That had irritated him. Maybe it had made him reckless because he'd confronted her, but he hadn't been able to frighten her. Eventually he had to leave their community and live rough with his few followers.
That's when he should have cut his losses and traveled east. It would have been easy then. It was still early summer and he could have crossed the big glacier and found a more receptive people where he could have started over. But no, Brukeval wouldn't hear of it. He'd made threats and he knew that Brukeval would act on his threats if he felt himself crossed.
So here he was, squatting beside a stream in the middle of nowhere waiting for no one in particular and wishing he had something to eat. He'd been instructed to cause fear and confusion by ambushing a few people walking alone close to the Chimu community. Brukeval felt that it would cause them to split their forces and give him an advantage in dealing with the searchers.
Madroman, on the other hand, thought it only a matter of time before they were caught and punished. He didn't like that thought, not one bit. Maybe if he just slipped away in the night and headed east by himself? Even though another year had gone by since he'd first thought of escaping, it was again around the right time of year to tackle that glacier...
There was movement from higher up the hill. It was a woman - on her own - walking down the path. He could not see a spearthrower, a knife or any other weapon. The woman looked unsuspecting and vulnerable.
Madroman almost yelped out loud when he recognized the woman. It was Ayla! The First Zelandoni! What was 'she' doing here? He felt fear and uncertainty. Maybe he should get away while he could. She was trouble and always had been, from the first moment he'd met her he'd felt afraid of her. Of course much of his fear was caused by her strange ways and her even stranger companions. He was glad when he'd heard that her wolf companion was dead. That dirty beast had always given him an evil eye.
He drew some strength from the fact that his original fear of the woman had been a reasonable fear of her animals and not the woman herself. She was just a woman, if you took away all her friends and strange companions. It might be gratifying to bring her down and humiliate her, maybe even making her his slave to clean up after him and maybe even force her to share his furs on cold winter nights... He was thinking ahead and smiling.
Yes, he had four strong followers who would do as he commanded, so why not. He stood and whistled loudly to alert the others and was gratified to see two of his men jump up with their weapons at the ready.
As he watched, his smile of satisfaction changed to shock as the object of his recent fantasy turned and without warning brought down both men that had jumped up to ambush her. To Madroman, in his shock at her attack on his men, it had appeared to be magic. In reality, it was only her skill with the double shot technique she had perfected with her sling over the years.
Out of necessity Ayla had developed the dried mud projectile that she had used to bring down the two men. Even though they could kill, if aimed just right they would only temporarily disable when hitting hard bone and disintegrating on contact.
Before the other two men could respond, Cambarre grabbed Madroman from behind causing him scream in fright. He began to babble in fear. Begging whoever was holding him so roughly, not to hurt him, that he would do whatever they wanted but to please not hurt him.
The other two men who had been part of the ambush saw that there were men behind them in the shadowy forest with spears. They looked with disgust at their Shaman as he begged for mercy like a little child begging not to be spanked. After a moment they threw down their weapons and stepped out onto the trail.
-o-
Reluctantly, Cambarre agreed to his Zelandoni's request that he escort the four Chimu men back to their people. Groog would accompany him and the captive's hands would be tied to insure their cooperation. Once he had delivered the Chimu to First Place, he would gather a couple of volunteers who were accomplished with a spearthrower and with Groog as their guide, bring them back to the Clan cave where Ayla would wait for them.
When Cambarre asked about Madroman, Ayla had responded that she felt he would be held more securely by the Clan than by the Chimu. There might be someone at First Place who would help him escape and she was certain that no one from the Clan could be suspected of sympathy for the false shaman.
She gave Cambarre last minute instructions just before he was to leave, "You should be able to make it back to First Place before dark and then back to me at the Clan cave by late afternoon tomorrow. Also, please have someone send several runners to our people tracking Brukeval's group, to inform them that we now hold Madroman and four of his band.
"Come mounted this time and please bring Summer Child with you. The only reason we walked this time was to maintain the Mog-ur's dignity. I don't want to head into the forest to the south on foot if we don't have to."
Cambarre nodded and began to herd his captives, with Groog's help, back toward the west and First Place. Calling as he left, "Be safe, I'll be sure to let Jondalar and Jonayla know that all is well."
Ayla turned toward the east and grasping the rope end that was attached to a loop around Madroman's neck, she signaled that it was time to leave.
-o-
As they traveled northeast toward the Clan, Ayla and Brog discussed what should be done next. Ayla wanted the Clan men to watch along Long Valley, a treeless valley that stretched for as far as the eye could see from sunrise to sunset. She wanted them to stop and hold anyone fleeing their way. Brog responded to her with some doubt. He felt, with some reason, that the leader would not accept instructions from a female, even a female leader of the Others.
Brog suggested that he should be the one to bring up the plan, but he also advised that Mongar had been offended by Ayla's daughter when she and her man had been brought in earlier. He'd felt that she was too manly and spoke to him with too much force. "Mog-ur" Brog signed, "Mongar did not allow any hunters to assist in bringing Jonayla and Cambarre back to First Place. Groog took it upon himself to bring them and to bring our Medicine Woman and myself. Groog and I could do what we wished and Mongar said he would not interfere.
The Mog-ur had to admit that when he brought back two more of the Others to his cave, Mongar would likely become more intransient in his views. "We will just have to see what he says. I think when you ask him you should try to impress upon him that you are a leader among your people. If he will not help, then I will add my voice to yours and we will see." Brog became quiet as they reached the open valley that traditionally marked the boundary between the Others and the Clan.
They needed to stop for a rest. Madroman was limping and whining that he was tired and thirsty. Ayla let him sit and gave him her travel cup full of water. As she stood in front of him waiting for him to finish, Madroman asked in a plaintive voice, "Zelandoni, why are you taking me to the flatheads. They'll kill me. Is that your intention? To let them do your dirty work? If you'll let me go, I'll cross the glacier, I won't even talk to Brukeval. I'll just leave, I promise."
Ayla looked down at the man squatting before her. "Madroman, if I let you go you would cause other people trouble."
Madroman shook his head, "No, I've learned my lesson. I have wanted to leave here for more than a year. It was Brukeval, he wouldn't let me. I promise that I'll cause no one any more trouble. Just let me go. Please!"
"I'm sorry, but that isn't up to me. You have caused the death of people, both of the Clan and the Chimu, so it will be up to their leaders what happens to you. Now please get to your feet, we must go."
"They'll kill me, those flatheads! You're as good as killing me yourself by taking me there," Madroman whined petulantly.
Ayla pulled him to a standing position using a tug on his neck rope. "Madroman, these people you keep calling "flatheads" are more honorable than you have ever been. You can stop worrying about their revenge on you. They don't think that way. They don't normally kill people who have done bad things. They just drive them out to fend for themselves.
"If they now want to kill anyone, it is because they learned that from you and your followers. If I were you, I'd worry more about what our cave leaders will do with you. If it makes you feel any better, I will not let anyone harm you. That is, until the Zelandonii and Chimu leaders decide what to do with you and Brukeval."
When Madroman continued arguing, Ayla said sharply, "Silence! We have discussed this enough. Just keep your mouth shut and try not to show the fear you feel. It won't help you to show your true feelings to the people you're about to meet. And believe me when I tell you that they will be able to tell what you feel just by your facial expressions and body language."
-o-
The first sign of habitation wasn't smoke or movement or even the noise one would expect from a community of people, but of one man, spear in hand, stepping out onto the trail some lengths ahead of them.
Brog raised a hand in greeting and the man nodded in recognition, gesturing that they continue on. Ayla looked down as she passed the man as a well behaved woman of the Clan would. What to do now? She needed the Clan hunters to help close off the northern escape route but could expect a closed mind from their leader, even with the support of their Mog-ur.
As they followed a bend in the trail and the Clan cave came into view, Ayla stopped in thought. It was several moments before Brog realized that he was walking ahead of the female. He also stopped and looked back at her questioningly. "Why have you stopped?" he signed. "We are here."
"Yes, but I have been thinking about what you said to me about the Clan leader. Once I would have come meekly to him and asked for his help as a female clan woman, but from what you have said, he might not agree to help even if you yourself asked.
"I've learned the hard way that sometimes the best way to convince people is not to be meek, but to show certain strength. I have strength and I believe that the Great Earth Mother, whom you call Ursus, the Spirit of the Cave Bear, has given me power and understanding of that power.
"Brog, I ask you to take Dula and walk ahead of me to your cave. I will follow you shortly. I think I can convince your cave leader that he should listen to my request. This is important. We all want this trouble to be over with and if we work together it will accomplish two things. It will create peace and understanding between our peoples and it will stop the violence that this person and his companion have caused." Ayla nodded at a trembling Madroman.
"Please tell your leader that I will be arriving very soon and I will be bringing the leader of those who attacked the Clan as my prisoner." Quickly Brog, what is Mongar's Totem sign?"
"It is the Mighty Bison." The Mog-ur, although he'd only known this female of the Others for a short time, believed that she would do as she said and that she would somehow convince Mongar to help. It worried Brog on some level that this female of the Others seemed to be so powerful. Just what he'd seen of her in this short time and what his apprentice Groog had told him, made him think that her power rivaled his own, or maybe even eclipsed it.
Did these Others have more like this one, he wondered. If there were more like her, it was a sign that Ursus favored these Others, maybe even to the point that he favored them over the Clan. If given the chance he would try to discover more about this one called Ayla and try to find out if there were more like her among the Others.
As Brog approached his people's cave, women sitting at the open space in front stopped their work to acknowledge their Mog-ur with respectful nods. They had been performing the daily tasks of working hides, grinding grains and weaving or carving utensils, but now set them aside as Dula sat down with them to tell them about her adventures. She would refrain from speaking about some of what happened on the trip, not sure how to even explain some of the things she had seen and heard.
Mog-ur continued into the cave and to the leader's hearth. "Greetings Mongar," Brog signed.
Mongar, looked at his Mog-ur and grunted, "So you're back. Did your journey go well? Were you able to return that loud young female of the Others and her silent man to their people?"
"Yes Mongar. I also met their Mog-ur who is directing all the Others in their search for the wild men who have killed and caused violence."
"This female Mog-ur that the loud female talked about? I doubt that she leads the men, you must have been mistaken or deceived."
"Mongar, I am not an inexperienced child to be easily led. I am The Mog-ur, to whom the other Mog-ur turn. I lead them in the Spirit World ceremonies. Do you really think I cannot understand what is real and what is not?" Brog fixed the cave leader with a stony stare.
"Well," Mongar said stiffly. "It is done and we will not have to see any of them again if they are successful in their hunt for the wild men."
"You will be seeing one of them very soon I think. Their Mog-ur has captured the false Shaman of the wild men and brings him here as we speak. You will have the opportunity to meet the female Mog-ur and decide what you think for yourself."
"No! I will not meet some female of the Others pretending to be a Mog-ur. No! That will not happen!" Mongar signed with agitation.
Just then gasps were heard from the women at the mouth of the cave. Suddenly there was silent scurrying past the leader's hearth as the women ran to the back of the cave to hide.
The hair on the back of Mongar's neck stood on end and he experienced an unreasonable fear, one that he couldn't put a name to. Then he heard a voice call his name. "Mongar, Mighty Bison!" It was a female voice.
A female voice calling his name and his totem. That was not done. Only hunters could call him by name and only Mog-urs used his totem name. Mongar turned and moved past Brog, grabbing his heavy hunting spear. He would teach this woman who claimed to be Mog-ur how to address a man and a leader.
-o-
Mongar stopped dead in his tracks as he came out of the cave into the daylight. He felt the blood drain from his face and goose bumps rise. What was this! What was he seeing?
Standing a few lengths away from the opening was an apparition standing beside a kneeling man of the Others with a rope around his neck.
Was this the female Mog-ur? It was definitely a Mog-ur! There before him stood a woman of the Others, but one like none he had ever seen before. Her face shone white as snow and she had the blood red markings of a Mog-ur when they went searching the Spirit World. Mongar had been involved in searches a few times, especially when they were asking the Spirits help when looking for a new cave.
He'd never seen anything like this before. It was shocking. To see a female whose face was that of a Mog-ur was uncanny and fearsome. She began to sign in the formalized movements of the ancient unspoken language used to communicate with spirits and with other clans.
"I am Ayla, protected by the Cave Lion and I honor Mongar who has always honored the Spirits, and whose totem is the Mighty Bison. A man who has always kept the traditions of the Clan. A man who is a strong leader, a wise leader, a fair leader, a hunter and provider. A man who is worthy of the Mighty Bison totem. I greet you."
'No man in his clan had a Cave Lion totem, not many men in all the clans did,' Mongar thought to himself. 'A Cave Lion totem... a woman? Unheard-of…'
As if reading his mind the strange apparition before him pulled her left legging down to show four vivid stripes carved into her thigh. The totem sign of The Cave Lion. On the left side instead of the traditional right side, on an arm or shoulder, which would have been the correct side and place for a female.
"My totem was not given to me by the Clan," she signed. "I received these marks from the Cave Lion himself when I was only a small child. Now I look into the Spirit World and lead my people in their worship of the Great Earth Mother who you call Ursus.
"Hear me Mongar, leader and protector of your people. Ursus speaks to you. You can hear his wishes inside your own thoughts. You don't need my signs to do what is right for your people. Help the Others by capturing and holding any of the wild men passing through Long Valley. That is all that is asked of you."
Brog, now standing behind his leader, was jarred by a feeling of uneasiness, the same feeling he had experienced when he first had contact with this female Mog-ur. If he'd had a concept for it, he would have called what he was feeling a sense of foreboding, yet it was tinged with a strange unnerving hope.
Brog stepped up beside Mongar and signed, "She is not Clan," he reminded him, "but there is no doubt her protection is strong or she wouldn't be alive. She would have been killed by that cave lion." The thought crystallized in his mind. The cave lion! It marked her, but it did not kill her... Then another thought burst through and a chill of recognition crept up his spine. All doubt was swept from Brog's mind. He was sure.
"This female could help us. She can stop the wild men. She has the power to do this. She asks only that we stop fugitives of their hunt from fleeing past us to cause trouble another day. Look, she has already brought us the false Shaman leader of the wild men. Let us do as she asks Mongar." The Mog-ur decided that he'd said all he could. If Mongar still held out because Ayla was female, then so be it.
Mongar stood very still, full of indecision. It was hard to think of this person standing a few lengths away as female. Of course he knew instinctively that she was, she had the curves and the stance of a female, but her words were spoken as if a hunter spoke them. He noticed then, that she even had a hunter's mark at her throat. How could that be?
How could that be? Females didn't hunt. In fact if a female even touched a man's weapon, she could be given the death curse. At the very least she would be beaten and the weapon would be destroyed as useless. Everyone knew that a weapon touched by a female could no longer be used accurately. It would be confused and would no longer help the hunter to kill his quarry.
Almost against his will he signed to the female, "Why do you wear a hunter's mark at your throat?"
Ayla wasn't sure now if she would be able to get through to the leader. He hadn't responded to her face paint as much as she'd hoped. Yes, he'd been shocked, but he hadn't responded to her request. And now he was asking about something as unimportant as a hunter's mark. Then it suddenly occurred to her that he was testing her. He'd never seen a female with a hunter's mark before and wanted her to prove she was a hunter.
Maybe this would be the key to the big tough looking leader. If she could prove to him that she was truly a skilled hunter, then maybe he would listen to her. Releasing Madroman's neck rope, she turned around and walked to the farthest range of her sling's ability, then turned and signed to the leader to hold his spear high.
Mongar looked at his Mog-ur who nodded encouragement. He turned back to see the female had pulled a sling from her pouch and had placed a stone in it. She was much too far away to hit something as narrow as a spear shaft. What was this female thinking?
He held his spear up. This would end now and he would be able to turn away when she missed and speak to her no more. Even though it would be no shame missing an impossible shot, she had been the one to suggest it. He would give her no other chance to engage him.
His musings were abruptly interrupted as the spear was knocked from his hand. Mongar stood where he was, totally surprised, looking at his empty hand. Then he looked outward to see the female signing for him to pick the spear up and hold it again.
"No," he signed, "Come to me, we will talk." He was convinced that this person was who she said she was. He still did not know how to deal with a female Mog-ur, but he knew that he was not going to stand around and be made to look foolish by one. Better to deal with her at his hearth. He would have Mog-ur with them also. Mongar turned, signaling Brog to bring the Other's Mog-ur to him, then he walked to his place within the cave.
-o-
Mongar stood with angry eyes as Ayla and Brog stepped into the ring of stones that denoted his hearth area. His mate crouched by the small fire, holding their baby in a sling wrap as she dropped heating stones into a willow bark water container. Ayla could smell mint, alfalfa, and nettle leaves from the steam that rose into the air.
"Brog," Mongar spoke the name gruffly to get the Mog-ur's attention. He signed, ignoring Ayla, "What do you expect us to do for these Others who have caused us nothing but suffering? You bring this... this female who paints herself as a Mog-ur would and slings stones at sticks that shouldn't hit their mark... It is not seemly to see a female using weapons; it offends the people, the women of the Clan and is unsettling. So I ask you, what do you expect of me 'Brog'?"
The Mog-ur looked uncomfortable, but looked squarely into his leader's eyes. "This woman leads the Others' in their fight against the wild men. We all want the wild men gone. She has captured the leader of these wild men as a show of good faith and has brought him to you. What more must she do to prove her power to you?
"I say we should help the Others. All they want from us is to capture any fugitives that may come our way. To hold them and turn them over to their hunters for punishment when all is done."
Ayla could see the leaders face as he tried to understand how to deal with a situation outside the memories of his ancient people. There was nothing to compare it to, no experience to draw from and it made him exceedingly uncomfortable to be placed in a position to make decisions with no clear-cut ancestral memories to draw upon.
Ayla realized that this might be the first time the Clan leader had been placed in a position to make a decision that he couldn't balance against one made by a predecessor. She wanted to reassure him, but felt that if she said anything now, he would close his mind to any further discussion. She would just have to rely on Brog to do the communicating and remain silent unless spoken to.
Mongar stood still for a moment, and then he looked at his mate who was unobtrusively signaling that the tea was ready. He nodded to her and she filled cups with tea and handed them around. When she came shyly over to Ayla, she nodded in recognition of one woman to another and Ayla automatically returned the sign, making the leader's mate stop for a moment in surprise, then scurry to the back of the hearth area again.
Mongar had seen the subtle play between the two females. He had to admit that even though this woman of the Others looked strange to the eye, she was fully Clan in her actions. He tensed with anxiety that she knew Clan ways, but still expressed a bold male presence that was so unsettling that deep down inside he felt a foreboding that could almost be defined as fear.
He had a momentary urge to take his heavy hunting spear and thrust it through her heart. Doing so would stop this female Mog-ur in her tracks. But he knew if he did, there would be open warfare between his people and hers. Killing her would show recognition that he believed she was who she said she was. He didn't want that.
Finally Mongar came to a reluctant decision. "We will help the Others as you suggest Mog-ur. Now leave me." Mongar began to turn away, then stopped. "When will this female be leaving here? And what are we supposed to do with the wild man she has captured and brought with her? You said that we should hold him captive?"
"Yes Mongar, he was the wild men's leader. You will find that he is not very brave and that he should be easy to hold with little effort. The Others will come and collect him and any of the other wild men that come into our valley that we hold for them. They will punish them more severely than we would, or so I am told."
"How could their punishment be more severe than cursing them with death? The Death Curse is the ultimate punishment," Mongar said, confused.
"I am told by Ayla, that her people know ways that are harsher than ours, even harsher than the Death Curse. I know not what they mean but will see what they do when the time comes and explain it to you. As our leader you should know about these things."
"And what about her?" Mongar nodded toward the still silent Ayla.
"The Other's Mog-ur will leave tomorrow when some of her hunters come to her, led by Groog."
Mongar frowned. "It is not good that the Others come to our cave like this. They will be able see where we are and what strength we have. What if they decide to become wild men too?"
"I don't think we have much choice but to trust these people who have come from the south. We want the wild men caught and these people have come to do that. Until they came we had to fight almost daily. If we must, we can always move farther east, but I don't think they will bother us once the wild men are caught," Brog said confidently. He only wished he felt as confident as he tried to sound.
Mongar nodded, looked sideways at Ayla again and then turned away making the dismissal sign and walked to the back area of his hearth area to his mate.
Brog signed that Ayla should follow him. They put their containers of tea down and followed Brog to his hearth area, where Ayla took the opportunity to wash the white and red ocher clay from her face, not wanting to scare the children or adults more than she already had.
Being the Mog-ur, his hearth was where visitors would stay and therefore it was a bit larger than the others. Ayla looked surreptitiously down the row of hearths, noting that there were four more on either side of a central pathway. She couldn't see much of the interior of the cave and had to make her count of hearths by counting fires.
The sights, sounds and aromas brought back childhood memories. The Clan had rescued her from certain death and she had formed lasting attachments. She had now been among her own kind for almost twice as long as she had been with the Clan. No matter how long she might have been away from the Clan, she would always be grateful to them.
Ayla thought even now, all these years later, that she was still attracted to Clan people. They were more straightforward than her people. They concentrated on living and honoring their ancestors and Ursus and they didn't insert themselves into other people's business.
It was strange how attractive these people were to her. Even though she recognized the physical differences between her people and theirs and she was attracted to her own kind, she still thought that Clan men had a rugged manly appearance that her kind lacked. She loved Jondalar and thought him handsome and he could always make her want him just by giving her a certain look, but he wasn't a Clan man.
No one, no man could make her as complete as Jondalar did, but even so, being with Clan felt like coming home. Clan women felt like sisters, there was a special sense of family that she didn't quite experience with her own kind. The Zelandonii were more competitive and there were social conventions that the Clan would never even dream of.
-o-
That night, the two Mog-urs talked about their lives and experiences. Compared their religious ceremonies and beliefs. Ayla, having experienced the Clan ways tried to show Brog the similarities between their two people. She explained what it took to become a Zelandoni and that the First Zelandoni was the voice, instrument, and surrogate of the Great Earth Mother, or as he knew it, Ursus, the Sacred Cave Bear of the Clan.
Brog was mated to Shura and they had a boy and a girl, Bran and Ulla. Both children were still of the hearth, but Bran was only a season away from manhood and remained silent with big brown eyes that followed his father's every move. Ulla was the image of her mother and copied her every move. Ayla smiled to herself as she watched the absorbed child - who couldn't be more than six summers - help in the preparation of dinner.
They were preparing reindeer steaks and to everyone's surprise and delight Ayla contributed some sea salt to the meal. Salt to the Clan in this area was a luxury and Shura was very grateful.
It was late afternoon when they ate, and the food was delicious. Ayla had not realized how hungry she had become. With all the walking and then meeting the Clan people, she hadn't eaten since early morning.
Once Madroman had been settled at the back of the cave where the root vegetables were stored, Ayla was able to relax by the Mog-ur's fire. By now she had become a curiosity to the Clan children. Ulla had begun to treat her as a wise old aunt and a few of the other children had adopted her as a person of interest. She looked strange and exotic but she acted like a Clan female and could talk like a normal Clan woman.
At first their mothers would call them back, but the children would sneak back to the Mog-ur's hearth to listen to Ayla's stories. She couldn't resist the small ones. Children had always been an important part of her life. Now after many years of experience around children and keeping them interested and entertained, she had become an accomplished story teller.
She told her favorite story. The story of Durc, but now she added details that had never been told before. She was Durc's mother and Durc was her son. She put herself in the story because she felt it was her story. After all, she had lost her son, much as that other mother had lost hers. Only she was the one who left the clan and her son Durc became a great hunter, well respected for his abilities.
Even the Mog-ur was fascinated by her version of the story and asked her why she had changed the legend.
"Because I had a child whose name was Durc, a name given to him by Creb. I too lost my son, the difference was that he didn't leave his people, as in the legend. I have been told by one who met him late last summer that he lives and is a hunt leader in his clan. They are Clan who live twelve moon cycles travel from here, on the other side of the world."
"Oh. You had a child when you were with the Clan to the east?" Brog asked with interest.
"Yes I did," Ayla replied. "I was unmated, but had a son when I was eleven summers old. He was half Clan and half Others. But unlike many of mixed essences, he was strong and vibrant."
Brog looked thoughtful, then asked, "It sounds as though you miss him. Why then did you leave him?"
It was an unusual question and an obtrusive one that would normally not have been asked, but he couldn't hold it back, he was eager to know about this Durc, the child of this strange and mystifying female.
"I was turned out of the Clan by what I now realize was a jealous and vindictive new leader. He was the son of Brun and because he was the son, in time he became the leader of our cave. He'd always disliked me and when he was made leader, almost the first thing he did was to turn me out." Ayla refrained from speaking about being cursed with death.
The custom the Clan had of avoiding direct queries was so long-standing, it had become a law in ancient times. She would have told about the death curse if the Mog-ur had directly asked, she would not refuse to answer. It was impossible for people of the Clan to lie or for that matter for her to lie to them. Their form of communication, dependent on subtle nuance and on barely perceptible changes in expressions, gestures, and postures, made any attempt immediately detectable.
"I was only a girl really and didn't know if I would survive on my own so I left my son with my sister. Uba wasn't really my sister but she was Iza's daughter and we grew up together and we loved each other like sisters." Ayla's eyes misted for a moment as she thought about Uba and wondered what sort of Medicine Woman she had turned out to be. She hoped that she was the First among her peers as her mother had been.
"There is not a day that goes by that I do not think of my son Durc. Even though he was only a young child when I left him, he is as important to me as the two children given to me by Jondalar."
Brog thought that the woman's statement about her mate giving her children was a bit strange, but he understood a mother's grieving, even if not exactly what she had meant. What now interested him even more than the legend child was the fact that this female Mog-ur used counting words so easily as if she understood everything about them. Could this be true? If it was, it proved to him without a doubt that she was truly the Mog-ur to her people. He decided to find out what she knew.
Brog casually asked, "You have mentioned counting words several times. What do you know about them?" He said no more, letting a silence prevail to encourage her to fill the void.
"Yes, counting words. The first person to show me how they worked was Creb," Ayla said.
Brog was rocked by this information. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Could this be true? Would the Mog-ur of all Mog-urs show a child of the Others something as sacred and secret as the counting words. Words that governed the seasons and the world they lived in?
He tried to cover his shock, by asking as casually as he could, "Why would Creb teach a young girl counting words?"
"Oh, I already understood what they were and I was using them to myself when one day he discovered that I understood how they worked. He explained how to count beyond the few counting names I'd devised and to understand the concept. He also told me to keep this knowledge to myself.
"To the ones you call the Others, counting words are shared by all. Even small children use counting words. In fact, for the Others, it would be impossible to trade and plan hunts without them. My people are very numerous in the south and we combine caves to hunt, sometimes we have as many as fifty people involved in a hunt and that takes careful planning when you have that many people involved."
Brog wasn't sure if he understood how many fifty was. He would have to think about that later when he was by himself and had the time to concentrate on the problem.
Brog felt tired. He was certainly tired of feeling confused and that is what this female Mog-ur caused in him, confusion. He needed to lie down. Maybe after a night of sleep he would understand more and feel more confident.
"I think we should sleep now," he said. "It is getting late and we certainly had a busy day today. The children have gone to their sleep, so now I think we should share in their wisdom and do the same." Brog bid Ayla good sleep and climbed into the sleeping furs that Shura had prepared for them on the far side of the banked fire.
Ayla fell asleep to the comforting sounds of Clan life, the small sounds of people settling in for the night, a child's plaintive cry, the rustle of sleeping furs as others found their places for the night. A soft glow was still present from the newly banked fires. The cave was at peace.
Her last thought was of Madroman and what might eventually have to be done to him.
-o-
Ayla woke before dawn, roused by the small noises that Shura made as she left her furs to begin the day. Ayla climbed out of her sleeping furs and noticed that the banked fire had gone out during the night. Shura noticed it too, she shrugged her shoulders and was about to go to the next hearth to obtain a live coal, when Ayla had made an offer to help.
Shura began signing that she should be the one to go to the next hearth because it might startle them if she, a stranger, went unannounced. But Ayla cut her explanation short and indicated that she herself would make a new fire.
Shura looked at the two stones that the other woman held in her hand. They looked like plain stones, one was flint. Her curiosity was piqued when she saw the foreign woman kneel before the cold hearth and pile a few twigs over some fire starting material that she took from a belt pouch. Shura was pleased to see this Mog-ur using the same fire starting material that she herself did.
Shura stepped back in momentary fear when a large, long-lasting spark jumped from the woman's hands into the pile of willow fuzz and ignited with a flare and when she leaned forward and blew on it, a flame bloomed into life.
She had never seen magic like that before and looked on wide-eyed as this female Mog-ur of the Others piled larger sticks on top of the twigs. A fire had been started with a flick of the wrist. Surely, it was a sign of this woman's power. She'd heard from Brog that she was considered a Mog-ur among her own people but she hadn't quite understood. Females were not Mog-urs and Mog-urs spoke to the Spirits and everyone knew that women were never to even look at a Spirit Ceremony, much less represent the people to the Spirits. Shura was confused and rapidly becoming fearful.
Ayla had noticed that the water skin was almost empty and was preparing to take it outside to be refilled when she saw that Shura had stepped away from her and was hugging herself with a look of fear in her eyes. She suddenly realized that her use of the firestone had frightened Shura. The stones were in such common use among the Zelandonii now that sometimes she forgot that there were people who didn't know about them.
Even though she'd shown Dula and Brog the use of the firestone, they wouldn't have had time to tell everyone yet. Ayla held out the two stones and indicated that Shura should take them into her own hands.
At first Shura shrank away from Ayla's outstretched hands. Then, when it became obvious that the other woman would stand there until she took the stones, she slowly reached and grasped them in her own hands. Shura looked closely at the stones, then she looked questioningly at Ayla.
"They are only stones. But when you strike the flint against the firestone they make a spark. If you aim the spark at something that is easily set alight, then you can start a fire from the spark. It is a gift from the Great Earth Mother who you know as Ursus. I found out by accident that these stones make a spark when struck together. It isn't magic, I found the first firestone by a stream and since then I've found many more just lying on the earth waiting to be picked up.
"I gave a firestone to Dula and to your mate, Brog, and I showed them how to make the spark. You'll see, in time everyone will use them, just like my people do. It's not magic Shura, it's just a gift from the earth, something that nature made and that people can use." With that, Ayla emptied the water from the skin into a large birch container made to hold water for heating, then slung the empty water skin over her shoulder and walked down the central pathway, politely keeping her eyes on the ground before her.
She hadn't looked at anyone as she moved through the cave toward the opening, yet she could hear the early sounds of the Clan women beginning their morning tasks. Even though she wouldn't want to live this simply after having lived with the Zelandonii for so many years, it did bring back pleasant memories of belonging and the loved ones who had loved her.
As Ayla stepped out of the mouth of the cave she stopped for a moment to breathe in the fresh air. The dawn was breaking on the horizon and light was beginning to creep toward Long Valley. This was a lovely time of year. In this climate the summers were never more than four full moons and with little more than a full moon phase to go before the chilly weather began, this was the nicest part of the summer.
Ayla took a deep breath and then turned toward the stream and the place where the Clan drew their water.
-o-
Shura stood and watched the strange woman of the Others as she walked away from her. She had noticed that the woman kept her gaze down when walking by other hearths. The younger one who had been brought in days ago had no such politeness about her. She and her mate had stared at everything and at everyone as if they were children who knew no better. But this woman knew Clan ways as if she were one of them.
She looked down at the stones she still held in her hands and felt an excitement that she was unfamiliar with. She had felt this way when she had first mated with Brog and again after each of her children had been born. These simple looking stones were status and important status at that. The only other people in her cave that had such a thing were the Mog-ur and the Medicine Woman. Not even the leader had one of these. She looked down wonderingly at the two small stones in her hand.
Shura suddenly thought, what if the woman of the Others hadn't given the stones to her? What if she would want them back before she leaves? She sighed. If that were the case, then she would give them back. At least her mate had been given a stone. And who knew, maybe she would be able to keep these. The thought of having her own firestone was intoxicating.
-o-
By the time the sun topped the horizon from far away, all the people of the Clan were up and at their daily chores. Mongar had assembled his hunters, and while Ayla and Brog stood by at the back of the group, he gave them their instructions.
"This female leader from the Others," he gestured toward Ayla, "has brought a request from her people to stop any of the wild men of the Others that try to elude their search parties. If they try to escape by crossing our valley, we are to capture them and bring them back here, uninjured if possible, to be held with their leader. The hunters of the Others are our friends in this, none are to be harmed and they will not harm us."
The assembled men nodded and there was no dissension. Within moments the men broke away to take up their weapons and filed out of the cave. They had been instructed to go in pairs and to stay within shouting distance of other searchers.
Ayla wished that she didn't have to wait for Cambarre and the men that would come with him, but it would be foolish to traverse the forest by herself. She decided to check on Madroman while she was waiting. Once Cambarre arrived she would want to start south immediately.
Ayla walked down the central pathway to the back of the cave. Madroman was sitting on the ground with his hands tied together, with another tied rope around his neck, fastened to a stake driven deep into the earth. There was a hunter at the last hearth closest to Madroman who was set to watch him. The man didn't move or try to stop Ayla as she approached the disgraced Shaman.
"Zelandoni!" Madroman whined when he saw who had come. "Please don't leave me here. They'll kill me when you've gone, I know they will!"
"Why do you think that?" Ayla said, truly surprised. Then a thought occurred to her. "Is it because that is what you would have had done to a man of the Clan if he were in your power? Maybe that is exactly what you have done in the past."
Madroman groaned in fear. "Please Zelandoni. I'm one of your people and you're the First Zelandoni. You are responsible for all of your people! Don't leave me here to be murdered by these animals!"
"You should be grateful that I'm leaving you here, instead of with the Chimu. They would most certainly give you rough justice. The people of the Clan will not hurt you so long as you don't try to escape. They will hold you here until someone from our people comes to collect you. These people who you call "animals" would never consider killing out of revenge. They have unwritten laws that, at worst, would drive you away, but never kill you outright.
"Madroman, we will return for you and bring you to the Chimu for their judgment. That is all I can do for you, even as the First Zelandoni. I have to answer to the people and what they determine to be just."
Ayla walked away, still hearing Madroman's pleas for mercy mingled with demands for his rights as a member of the Zelandonii. But even though she heard his voice, she shut her mind to his words. This was something that would be faced later, after the others were captured. Some of them would have to answer to members of the Nineteenth Cave for the damage and hurt they had caused and some would have to answer for the lives they had taken.