Body

It was almost dusk when Ayla was dragged out of the tent. She hadn't been given anything to eat or drink since Jasepa gave her food yesterday, and her stomach protested loudly.
Ayla shivered in the cooling night air, and tried to get her feet under her to walk. The men who were taking her didn't seem to notice as they took her into the cave she'd seen. At first she didn't really notice anything, except the pain from being dragged across the ground. Once they'd stopped near the back of the cave though, she realized that it was bright inside. The walls were painted with magnificent pictures of animals. She knew she should know the names of them, but for the life of her she couldn't remember. She hardly remembered anything!
She was laid across a cold slab of stone, and when she noticed her legs and arms being tied down with leather thongs, she tried to struggle.
"Why are you doing this?" she demanded as she struggled. It was no use. Soon she was secured and a man dressed with the preserved carcass of a blackcat? She thought, stood in front of her. He waved his arms about, and Ayla then noticed his gaze centered above her. Looking up through her good eye, she realized in the stone above her was carved a face. It's eyes were large and angry looking, it's mouth open in a scowl.
"Please, whatever I've done, don't do this! I beg you!" Ayla pleaded to no avail. When the man produced an ivory knife and held it above her stomach, she screamed.

Jondalar had reached the camp and decided to approach on horseback with all the animals. He knew Ayla wouldn't like it if he'd used people's fear against them, but he needed every advantage he could get.
Spear thrower at the ready, he approached the camp at a steady pace. Those that had been outside stared in awe, some running into the nearby trees. A few hunters tried to act brave and blocked his path, and Jondalar glared down at them. He was normally taller than most men, and with the added height of sitting on Racer's back, he was formidable.
Wolf had picked up on Ayla's scent, and his hairs stood at end as he let out a low, menacing growl. Midnight and Thunder, who normally were docile with their human upbringing, sensed the mood of the rest of their den, and paced nervously. Thunder lived up to his name by letting out quite a few hair raising growls. They were just like the type he used when he played with the Poterian children, but there was nothing playful about it.
"Where's Ayla?" He asked in Poterian.
No one spoke and Jondalar stared each of them down, one by one. "I'll only ask one last time. Where's my mate." His voice was low, deadly, and he was frustrated enough to want to send a spear into the nearest one to prove his point.
Finally, a woman around his age stepped forward. Her lower lip trembled and she bowed her head, as if she were speaking to a spirit.
"The woman with the blond hair?"
Jondalar nodded excitedly. "You know of her? Where is she?"
Jasepa started shaking, knowing their judgment had come. "She was brought here a few days ago. I....I had lost my milk and my mate....she nursed him." Her face was anguished, and Jondalar knew what caused her pain. "It had been too long. There was no one else that could feed him when I couldn't....he died this morning."
Jondalar truly felt her sorrow and he slid off his horse. Approaching her, he still kept an eye on the others. "I'm sorry for your loss. May the Mother protect him until you can be together again."
"Thank you." Jasepa took a deep breath and glanced at her mate.
"No! Don't say anything more." He stepped forward, glaring at Jondalar. "I'm Eflabin, leader of Willow Camp of the Altamians. You are not welcome here. Leave now."
Jondalar sized him up before he'd even finished speaking. He saw how everyone was eying the animals, and thought it odd that no one had questioned him about them. "I have no intention of staying. As soon as I have Ayla, we'll be on our way."
Eflabin fidgeted and looked torn. "You are too late. Our holy man has chosen her for a sacrifice to Alba. Our camp has suffered much over the past few years, and we must keep the Mother happy."
Jondalar couldn't believe what he was hearing. Rage and disbelief coursed though him as he aimed his spear thrower directly against the man's throat. A few men rushed forward to stop him, but Wolf quickly changed their mind. By this time, both cats were really agitated, and Racer nickered loudly before rearing on his hind legs. Both he and Whinney trotted back into the trees to get away from the commotion.
Jondalar heard a scream coming from the cave and pulled his fist back, landing it square on the leader's jaw. Running towards the cave, none dared to opposed him.


Just as the knife plunged into Ayla's stomach, the man was knocked over with a powerful force. Ayla kept screaming, unaware of the scene that was playing out in front of her. Jondalar landed hard on the man, winding himself temporarily.
"NOOO!" He turned the holy man over and started to pound his fist into the man's face over and over. He wasn't aware that he was screaming, and only stopped when he was too exhausted to continue. He was unaware that a few people had gathered at the entrance of the cave, and it was the cats that were keeping them at bay. Wolf had placed his paws on the stone and was licking Ayla's face, whining.

Jondalar turned towards Ayla and momentarily froze, head down. As the adrenaline wore off, he knew this was one of the worst offenses he could have done against the Mother. When Ayla didn't say anything to him immediately, he slowly lifted his head, his eyes finally focusing on the knife protruding from her stomach.
"Ayla! Oh Doni, No!" He cried out as he pulled out his knife and cut her loose from the stone slab. "Ayla don't die! Please don't die!" He didn't know if he should pull the knife out or not, and moved to her face. "What should I do Ayla? Please live!"
She stared at him blankly, clearly in shock.
Jondalar looked around and noticed the people standing at the entrance to the cave. He spied the woman who'd helped him earlier. "You, come here!" He commanded, not realizing the tone in his voice.
She eyed the cats warily, and Jondalar impatiently called them to his side. She hurried forward until she was within a few feet of him. Jasepa glanced down at the holy man, then back to the stranger. If he was capable of this kind of violence, what more would he do?
"Please, you must help her. Do you have a healer?" Jondalar asked.
"He's our healer." Jasepa quietly stated as she nodded towards the downed man.
"HIM?! He's a butcher! How dare he, how dare any of you take anothers life? That's for the Mother to decide who lives and who dies."
Eflabin pushed his way past the crowd at the entrance into the cave. It only took him a moment to realize the situation and he rubbed his jaw as he approached Jondalar.
"You've just sealed our doom. The Mother will curse us all now."
Jondalar took a step towards him, before willing himself to stop. "If you don't help her, now, the Mother will be the last thing you'll have to worry about." He threatened.
Eflabin eyed Ayla, noted her labored breathing, and nodded at Jasepa. "We will help you. For now."
Jasepa moved forward to Ayla and examined the wound, then Ayla's face. "I....I only have a limited amount of knowledge. I don't believe the knife hit any major parts...." She was clearly flustered. All eyes were focused on her and she was under the intense scrutiny from the stranger, as well as the animals he'd brought with him. Jondalar placed a hand on her arm. "Just do your best. Please."
Jasepa took a deep breath and nodded. "I'll need a fire and some furs. Kappala, bring my medicines as well as the rabbit skins I've saved. They're in the large basket near the back of my hearth."
The woman nodded and headed off, and Jasepa looked at Jondalar as they waited. Finally taking a deep breath, she whispered quietly. "I will try my best. She tried to save my son, but it was too late. He'd gone almost a half moon without eating. She didn't speak our language and had been treated badly, but she still held him to her breast. For that, I'll always be grateful."
Jondalar nodded and frowned. Ayla had picked up the language better than he had. Why didn't she know it? Something wasn't right about the woman's explanation, but now was not the time to ask questions. Kappala reappeared with the items, and they soon had a fire going. Jondalar supported Ayla as little as possible as they placed a fur under her. For now, they decided to take the knife out here, then move her to a warmer place.
Jondalar stroked Ayla's hair and kissed her forehead as Jasepa worked. Luckily, or not, Jondalar couldn't decide which, Ayla had passed out beforehand. Silently he promised the Mother everything he had, and everything he'd ever have, if She brought Ayla back to him.

Jondalar dipped a rabbit skin in cool water and wiped Ayla's forehead. Jasepa had done all she could for Ayla, and even he had contributed. He was surprised at how he'd picked up things from Ayla, just by watching her all this time. When Jondalar told Jasepa about Ayla's technique of sewing the skin closed, she seemed shocked, but tried it. Jondalar had given her one of Ayla's sewing points to use, and together they managed to do a half decent job. At least he'd hoped so.
He also made the poultice that he'd seen Ayla make many times to draw the heat from the skin, and placed it on her new stitches. A cool cup of willow bark tea was sitting nearby, and all any of them could do was wait.
They had moved Ayla into one of the tents outside of the cave, and both Whinney and Racer stayed close to the tent. Wolf made a point of laying in the doorway, both keeping an eye on the large members of his pack, and making sure no one would hurt Ayla. Midnight and Thunder were anxious to explore, but the training Ayla had instilled in them had kept them in check for now.
Jondalar was brought a plate of food, but the only one who stayed with him was Jasepa. The rest of the cave didn't know what to make of the strangers in their midst, and were quite fearful of the tall blond man.
Their holy man would live, Jondalar was told, but his face had suffered extensive damage. After Jasepa had finished with Ayla, she gave what comfort she could to him. Jondalar had to bite his tongue to keep from lashing out. Why did that man deserve to have aid?
Jasepa sat down on her furs and picked up a small carrying cloak. She ran her hands over it quite a few times before holding it to her breast and rocking back and forth. She finally held it to her nose and inhaled deeply. Her actions didn't go unnoticed by Jondalar, and he felt remorse for the woman. He'd learned her son had died that morning, and she hadn't even had time to mourn him properly. Her mate, Eflabin, who was also the leader of these people, hadn't come to her even once that he knew of to comfort her. What kind of a man was he anyway?
"How old was he?" Jondalar quietly asked.
Jasepa didn't look at him, or stop her rocking. "Only two moons." She finally stole a glance at the blond man, and knew the question he didn't ask.
"My milk never came in full, it had been a struggle to nurse him from the beginning. I had hoped that as he nursed more......" Her voice choked and she had to clear her throat. "No one else was nursing little ones, and I....all I could do was hold him, and rock him.....and watch him die."
Jondalar looked down at his hands, that were holding Ayla's right hand. There were so many questions that he wanted to ask, but where to start? "Why do your people...kill others?" He didn't know the Arterian word for sacrifice, and hoped his meaning was clear.
Jasepa carefully folded the wrap and came over to Ayla. She checked her temperature as she thought of her answer. "We used to not. Not until recent that is. After the drought and the Mother started to bless the land again, most of our hunters had already died. Food was so scarce they took extra risks. We finally started to build our reserves and things were looking up for us. Then the sickness came. We didn't really have anyone who was skilled in healing, our spirit leader was killed in a hunt.
One day a man walked into our camp. He spoke a different language, one I've never heard before, but learned our way to speak. Even after, he never told anyone where he was from. He did things that none of us had ever seen. He was a very powerful holy man. Still, we weren't sure about accepting him into our cave, especially in such a revered position. It had always been a woman who held that. After all, woman are closer to the Mother."
Jondalar nodded in agreement, and listened intently.
"Anyway, during a ceremony to decide whether or not to accept him, he did something...he breathed fire! No one dared to oppose him when the vote came. He promised us with his guidance that Willow Camp would prosper once again. When that didn't happen, he told us it was because we didn't believe in the Mother enough. That we had to make 'sacrifices' to her.
At first it was just things. Like our finest blades or furs, the choice parts of a kill. Then he demand more. It started with small animals, then....."
"Then what?" Despite himself, Jondalar didn't want her to stop. He *needed* to understand how this came about.
"We had visitors. It was two young men on a journey. They sounded like her." Jasepa nodded to Ayla.
"What do you mean, like her?"
"I never learned the language, and those who did have been called back to the Mother. From the first though, they challenged the holy man, and called him a fraud. The camp started to become divided and the holy man said it was the Mother's will that they die." Jasepa shuddered at the memory.
"Eflabin, my mate, he wanted no part of it. He refused to kill them and that enraged him. He breathed fire again, and said if they didn't die, then two of us would. That's...that was the first time.
After that, things did seem to get better for a little while. There were no more deaths, and we were starting to grow. There always seemed to be a reason for the holy man to sacrifice though. Then the wars started again. He told us that the Mother wanted us to have this land, and that we had to make the Poterians leave. No one wanted to start the wars, but we feared him. When Ayla was brought here he said she had to be given to the Mother. Eflabin refused. He knew she was nursing and told the holy man that she wouldn't die. That's when she nursed Jamin.
When...when Jamin died, the holy man told Eflabin that it was because he'd angered the Mother with refusing the sacrifice, but I knew better. I watched my son die slowly everyday. He would have died regardless. Eflabin lost it. He agreed to go through with the sacrifice, despite that fact that I'd begged him not to."
Jondalar sat back, stunned. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

Ayla let out a moan and both of their attention turned. Jondalar leaned over her. "Ayla, Ayla can you hear me? Please wake up." He was so nervous, he'd lapsed into Zelandoni.
Ayla licked her lips and slowly opened her eyes. Her body felt heavy, and her head was spinning. "Water."
Jondalar smiled and let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "She wants water."
He helped to support her head while Jasepa fed her the cool willow bark tea. Ayla drank it, not knowing the difference, and Jondalar replaced her head on the furs. He couldn't help but smile down at her, though there were tears in his eyes.
"I thought I'd lost you. Oh Doni, please don't scare me like that again!" He begged.
Ayla looked up into the concerned blue eyes, and felt herself relax. Something was telling her that she was safe with this man. She felt herself drifting into sleep again, but had to ask. After all, he was the only one who seemed to understand her, and the only one she could understand.
"Who....who are you?"

Jondalar was taken aback. He didn't know what to think or feel.
"What's wrong?" Jasepa asked, not understanding what Ayla had said.
"She....she didn't recognize me." Jondalar asked, dazed.
"I'm sure it's just the medicine. Once it wears off she'll remember." Jasepa tried to reassure him.
"I hope you're right."
A commotion started outside and Wolf let out a yip before leaving the tent.
"I'll stay with her."
Jondalar smiled his thanks then picked up his spear thrower before heading out.
It was dark now, and there were two groups of people facing each other. Karpin had arrived.
Each group had their spears at the ready and Jondalar stepped forward. "Karpin, I'm glad you've arrived. Ayla's been hurt. There *holy man*" Jondalar spat the word out with as much venom as he could, tried to kill her. He's also the one responsible for making these people set fire to your camp."
"Karpin took his eyes off the others long enough to glare at Jondalar. "How do you know that?"
"Jasepa told me. It's a long story. Please, put down your weapons." Jondalar looked directly at Eflabin. "There will be no blood shed tonight."
Neither man wanted to back down, but finally Eflabin nodded his head and signaled his people to drop their weapons.
"We've done much that needs to be atoned for." Eflabin steeled himself and took a step towards Karpin. "I'm Eflabin, leader of the Willow Camp of the Altamians. You are welcome here."
Karpin was torn between the raging anger coursing through him and wanting to believe what Jondalar had said. They had traveled far and fast the last few days, and he knew his men needed a rest. "In the name of the Mother, we accept your welcome."
Jondalar let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Some of the tension he'd been feeling left him, and his shoulders sagged.
Eflabin made arrangements for the men to share a tent and Jondalar went back to Ayla. Karpin promised him he'd come to see her as soon as he was sure that no hot heads from either side would cause any problems. Being leader meant sometimes having to restrain one's actions for the good of all, and Karpin knew that tonight was going to be one of his toughest tests.
Jondalar went back into the tent and sat down beside Ayla. Pulling his tunic over his head, he decided to keep his pants on in case something happened between the two camps. After contemplating on whether to keep his foot coverings on, Jondalar decided to remove them. Laying down beside Ayla, he scooted close to her and wrapped his arms around her, letting her head rest on his shoulder. Her body was still marked by the dark circles around her breasts and abdomen, and he decided to give her a bath when morning came.
The past few days without sleep had finally caught up with him, and since Ayla was if not completely safe, at least safe with him, he allowed himself to relax. It was only a matter of moments before he too, was fast asleep.

~~~~~~~~

Alya woke slowly to the sensations of warmth. Opening her eyes, she focused on the blond haired man. He was.....washing her...the look on his face one of worry. She noticed that for as large as he was, his hands were gentle, loving, and she fervently wished she knew who he was. Something inside her told her that she was *supposed* to know.
"Hello." Ayla quietly greeted and his eyes snapped to her face. She watched as his concern was replaced with a huge smile.
"You're awake. Thank Doni. I was so worried Ayla. Why did you run off like that? When I found Whinney and your pack....." Jondalar's words choked in his throat and he looked down, trying to control his emotions.
Ayla was more confused now than ever. What was he talking about? She opened her mouth to ask him, but he cut her off.
"No matter. You're safe now. How are you feeling? Are you hungry?"
Ayla nodded and Jondalar quickly went to the fire, dipping out a cup of broth for her. "It's a little hot, but it should cool down in a few minutes. Here," he reached for another cup. "I made you some tea. I know it isn't as good as yours but...."
His words trailed off as he handed her the cup, then helped her sit in a semi upright position, propping furs behind her.
Ayla sipped the warm liquid slowly as she studied the man without trying to seem too obvious about it. Finally, she had to know, and took a deep breath.
"Do....do I know you?" She all but whispered and inwardly cringed when the kind man's look turned to one of horror and disbelief.
"I.....I mean, I woke up here, a few days ago...." Tears came to her eyes as she tried to explain. "I couldn't remember anything. I don't know where I am...or.....or who I am..." She was outright sobbing now and the man wasn't helping much staring at her like he was. "You're the only one who understands me. Please, do you know who I am?" Ayla begged.
Jondalar nodded as his body finally complied and he moved close to Ayla, taking her in his arms. "Sshhh, it's alright" he crooned as he rocked her gently, stroking her hair. "Your name is Ayla.....and you're my mate."

CONTINUED IN CHAPTER TWO: SHADOWS OF THE PAST