The Clan Of The Cave Bear_ A Novel Part 24

"She was my responsibility to train. I must take the blame for her faults. It was I who overlooked her minor deviations from Clan ways. I even convinced you to accept them, Brun. I am Mog-ur. You rely on me to interpret the wishes of the spirits, and you have come to rely on my judgment in other ways. I did not think we were so wrong. Sometimes it was difficult for her, but I thought she had become a good Clan woman. I think now I was too lenient with her. I did not make her responsibilities clear. I seldom reprimanded her and I never cuffed her, I often let her go her own way. Now she must pay for my lack. But Brun, I could not be harsher with her.

"I never took a mate. I could have chosen a woman and she would have had to live with me, but I did not. Do you know why? Brun, do you know how women look at me? Do you know how women avoid me? I had the same need to relieve myself as any other man when I was young, but I learned to control it when women turned their back so they would not see me make the signal. I would not force myself, my crippled, deformed body, on a woman who shrunk from me, who turned away with disgust at the sight of me.

"But Ayla never turned from me. From the first, she reached out to touch me. She had no fear of me, no revulsion. She gave me her affection freely, she hugged me. Brun, how could I scold her?

"I have lived with this clan since my birth, but I never learned how to hunt. How can a one-armed cripple hunt? I was a burden, I was taunted, I was called woman. Now I am Mog-ur and no one ridicules, but no manhood ceremony was ever held for me. Brun, I am not half a man, I am no man at all. Only Ayla respected me, loved me-not as a magician, but as a man, as a whole man. And I love her as the child of the mate I never had."

Creb shrugged off the cloak he wore to cover his lopsided, malformed, wasted body and held out the stump of an arm he always hid.

"Brun, this is the man Ayla saw as whole. This is the man who set her standard. This is the man she loves and compares with her son. Look at me, my brother! Did I deserve to live? Does Ayla's son deserve to live less?"

The clan started gathering outside the cave in the dim half-light of predawn. A fine misty drizzle cast a glistening sheen on rocks and trees and collected in tiny droplets in the hair and beards of the people. Thin wispy tendrils snaking down from fog-shrouded mountains clung to hollows, and thicker ma.s.ses of the ethereal vapor obscured all but the nearest objects. The ridge to the east rose indistinctly from a nebulous sea of mist in the fading darkness, wavering vaguely just on the edge of visibility.

Ayla lay awake on her furs in the darkened cave, watching Iza and Uba moving silently about the hearth stoking coals in the fireplace and putting water on to boil for a morning tea. Her baby was beside her making sucking noises in his sleep. She hadn't slept all night. Her first joy at seeing Iza had quickly given way to a desolate anxiety. Initial attempts at conversation broke down early and the three females of Creb's hearth spent the entire long day after Ayla's return within its boundary stones communicating their despair with anguished looks.

Creb had not set foot inside his domain, but Ayla caught his eye once as he left the small adjoining cave to join the men in the meeting Brun had called. He looked away quickly from her silent appeal, but not before she had seen the look of love and pity in his soft liquid eye. She and Iza exchanged a tremulous, knowing glance when they saw Creb hurry into the place of the spirits after a talk with Brun held in a remote section of the cave in guarded gestures. Brun had made his decision and Creb went to prepare for his part in it. They did not see the magician again.

Iza brought the young mother her tea in the familiar bone cup that had been hers for several years, then sat quietly beside her as she sipped it. Uba joined them, but she could offer no more than her presence for comfort, either.

"Nearly everyone is out. We'd better go," Iza signaled, taking the cup from the young woman. Ayla nodded. She got up and wrapped her son in the carrying cloak, then picked up her fur wrap from the bed and threw it over her shoulders. Eyes glistening with moisture that threatened to overflow, Ayla looked at Iza, then Uba, and with an aching cry, reached out to both of them. All three huddled in a clinging embrace. Then, with a heavy heart and dragging step, Ayla walked out of the cave.

Staring down at the ground, seeing an occasional heelmark, the imprint of toes, the blurred outline of a foot encased in a loose leather covering, Ayla had the uncanny sensation that it was two years before and she was following Creb out of the cave to face her doom. He should have cursed me forever that time, she thought. I must have been born to be cursed; why else must I go through this again? This time I will go to the world of the spirits. I know a plant that will make us both go to sleep and never wake up, not in this world. I will get it over quickly, and we'll walk in the next world together.

She reached Brun, dropped to the ground, and stared at the familiar feet wrapped in muddy foot coverings. It was getting lighter, the sun would soon be up. Brun would have to hurry, she thought, and felt a tap on her shoulder. Slowly, she looked up at Brun's bearded face. He began without preliminaries.

"Woman, you have willfully defied the customs of the Clan and you must be punished," he motioned sternly. Ayla nodded. It was true. "Ayla, woman of the Clan, you are cursed. No one will see you, no one will hear you. You will endure the full isolation of the woman's curse. You may not go beyond the boundaries of your provider's hearth until the next moon is in the same phase as now."

Ayla gazed at the stern-faced leader with astonished disbelief. The woman's curse! Not the death curse! Not utter and complete ostracism, but nominal isolation confined to Creb's hearth. What did it matter that no one else in the clan would acknowledge her existence for an entire moon, she would still have Iza and Uba and Creb. And afterward, she could rejoin the clan just like any other woman. But Brun was not through.

"As further punishment, you are forbidden to hunt, or even mention hunting, until the clan returns from the Clan Gathering. Until the leaves have dropped from the trees, you will have no freedom to go anywhere that is not essential. When you look for plants of healing magic, you will tell me where you are going and you will return promptly. You will always ask my permission before you leave the area of the cave. And you will show me the location of the cave where you hid."

"Yes, yes, of course, anything," Ayla was nodding in agreement. She was floating in a warm cloud of euphoria, but the next words of the leader pierced her mood like an icy shaft of cold lightning, drowning her elation in a deluge of despair.

"There is still the problem of your deformed son who was the cause of your disobedience. You must never again try to force a man, much less a leader, against his will. No woman should ever try to force a man," Brun said, then gave a signal. Ayla clutched her infant desperately and looked in the same direction that Brun was looking. She couldn't let them take him, she couldn't. She saw Mog-ur limping out of the cave. When she saw him throw his bearskin aside, revealing a red-stained wicker bowl held firmly between the stump of his arm and his waist, incredulous joy flushed her face. She turned back to Brun hesitantly, unsure if what she thought could possibly be true.

"But a woman may ask," Brun finished. "Mog-ur is waiting, Ayla. Your son must have a name if he is to be a member of the clan."

Ayla scrambled to her feet and raced to the magician, taking her baby from her cloak as she dropped at his feet and holding the naked infant up to him. His first squall at being taken from his mother's warm breast and exposed to the damp cool air was greeted by the first rays of the sun breaking over the top of the ridge, burning through the misty haze.

A name! She hadn't even thought about a name, she hadn't even wondered what name Creb would choose for her son. In formal gestures, Mog-ur called the spirits of the clan's totems to attend, then reached into the bowl and scooped out a dab of red paste.

"Durc," he said loudly above the l.u.s.ty cries of the cold and angry baby. "The boy's name is Durc." Then he drew a red line from the junction of the baby's supraorbital ridges to the tip of his smallish nose.

"Durc," Ayla repeated, holding her son close to warm him. Durc, she thought, like Durc of the legend. Creb knows that's always been my favorite. It was not a common Clan name and many were surprised. But perhaps the name, dredged from the depths of antiquity and fraught with dubious connotations, was appropriate for a boy whose life had hung in the balance of such uncertain beginnings.

"Durc," Brun said. He was the first to file past. Ayla thought she saw a glimmer of tenderness from the stern, proud leader as she looked at him in grat.i.tude. Most of the faces were a blur seen through tear-filled eyes. As hard as she tried, she could not control them, and kept her head down in an effort to conceal her wet eyes. I can't believe it, I just can't believe it, she thought. Is it really true? You have a name, my baby? Brun accepted you, my son? I'm not dreaming? She remembered the glittering nodules of iron pyrite she had found and put in her amulet. It was a sign. Great Cave Lion, it was truly a sign. Of all the artifacts in her amulet, she treasured that one the most.

"Durc," she heard Iza say and looked up. The joy on the woman's face was no less than Ayla's for all that her eyes were dry.

"Durc," Uba said, and added with a quick gesture, "I'm so glad."

"Durc." It was said with a sneer. Ayla glanced up in time to see Broud turn away. She suddenly remembered the strange idea about the way men started babies she had while she was hiding in the small cave, and shuddered at the thought that somehow Broud was responsible for the conception of her son. She had been too busy to notice the battle of wills between Brun and Broud. The young man was going to refuse to acknowledge the newest member of the clan, and only a direct order from the leader finally forced the issue. Ayla watched him walk away from the group with clenched fists and tense shoulders.

How could he? Broud walked into the woods to get away from the hated scene. How could he? He kicked a log in vain attempt to vent his frustration, sending it rolling down a slope. How could he? He picked up a stout branch and sent it cras.h.i.+ng into a tree. How could he? How could he? Broud's mind kept repeating the phrase as he smashed his fist again and again into a moss-covered bank. How could he let her live and accept her baby both? How could he do it?

22*

"Iza! Iza! Come quick! It's Durc!" Ayla grabbed the medicine woman's arm and dragged her toward the entrance to the cave.

"What's wrong?" the woman motioned, hurrying to keep up. "Is he choking again? Is he hurt?"

"No, he's not hurt. Look!" Ayla gestured proudly when they reached Creb's hearth. "He's holding his head up!"

The infant was lying on his stomach looking up at the two women with large solemn eyes that were losing the dark, indistinct color of newborns and becoming the deep brown shade of people of the Clan. His head bobbed with the effort, then dropped back down on the fur blanket. He shoved his fist in his mouth and began sucking noisily, oblivious of the stir his efforts had caused.

"If he can do it this young, he'll be able to support it when he grows up, won't he?" Ayla pleaded.

"Don't build your hopes up yet," Iza replied, "but it is a good sign."

Creb shuffled into the cave, staring into s.p.a.ce with the unfocused, faraway look characteristic of him when lost in thought.

"Creb!" Ayla called, running up to him. Jolted back to reality, he looked up. "Durc held his head up, didn't he, Iza?" The medicine woman nodded in agreement.

"Hhmmf," he grunted. "If he's getting that strong, I think it's time."

"Time for what?"

"I've been thinking I should have a totem ceremony for him. He's a little young, but I've had some strong impressions. His totem has been making himself known to me. There's no reason to wait. Later, everyone will be busy getting ready to leave, and I should do it before the Clan Gathering. It might be unlucky for him to travel if his totem doesn't have a home." Seeing the medicine woman reminded him of something else. "Iza, do you have enough roots for the ceremony? I don't know how many clans will be there. Last time one of the clans that moved to a cave farther east was thinking of going to a Clan Gathering south of the mountains. It would be a little farther away for them but easier traveling. Their old mog-ur was against it, but his acolyte wanted to go. Make sure you bring plenty."

"I won't be going to the Clan Gathering, Creb." Her disappointment was obvious. "I can't travel that far, I'll have to stay behind."

Of course, what's wrong with me, he thought, looking at the thin, nearly white-haired medicine woman. Iza can't go. Why didn't I think of that before? She's too sick. I thought she was going to leave us last fall; I don't know how Ayla pulled her through. But what about the ceremony? Only the women of Iza's line know the secret of the special drink. Uba's too young; it has to be a woman. Ayla! What about Ayla? Iza could teach her before we leave. It's time she was made a medicine woman anyway.

Creb watched the young woman as she stooped to pick up her son and suddenly saw her more critically than he had for years. But will they accept her? He tried to see her as the people of other clans would see her. Her golden hair hung loose around her flat face, tucked behind her ears and parted haphazardly at the center, exposing her bulging forehead. Her body was definitely a woman's, but slender except for a slightly flaccid stomach. Her legs were long and straight, and when she stood up she towered over him.

She does not look like a Clan woman, he thought. She's going to get a lot of attention, and not much of it favorable, I'm afraid. We just might have to forget that ceremony. The other mog-urs might not accept the drink if Ayla makes it. But it would not hurt to try. If only Uba were a little older. Maybe Iza could train them both, though I don't think they'll be willing to accept a girl any more than a woman born to the Others. I think I'll go talk to Brun. If I'm going to call the spirits for Durc's totem ceremony, we might as well make Ayla a medicine woman at the same time.

"I must see Brun," Creb motioned abruptly, and started toward the leader's hearth. He turned back to Iza. "I think you should teach both Ayla and Uba to make the drink, but I'm not sure it will do any good."

"Iza, I can't find the bowl you gave me for the medicine woman of the host clan," Ayla gestured frantically after pawing through piles of food, furs, and implements stacked on the ground near her sleeping place. "I've looked everywhere."

"You already packed it, Ayla. Settle down, child. There's still time. Brun won't be ready to leave until he's through eating. You'd better sit down and eat, yourself, your mush is getting cold. Uba, you too." Iza shook her head. "I've never seen such carryings-on. We went over everything last night, it's all ready."

Creb was sitting on a mat, Durc in his lap, watching the last-minute commotion with amus.e.m.e.nt. "They're not any different from you, Iza. Why don't you sit down and eat?"

"I'll have plenty of time after you leave," she replied. Creb propped the baby up against his shoulder. Durc looked around from his new vantage point. "Look how strong that baby's neck is," Iza remarked. "He doesn't have any trouble holding his head up now. It's hard to believe. Ever since his totem ceremony, it's been getting stronger all the time. Let me take him, I won't be able to hold him all summer."

"Perhaps that's why the Gray Wolf wanted me to do it so soon," Creb motioned. "He wanted to help the boy."

Creb sat back and watched the small brood over which he was patriarch. Though he kept it to himself, he had often longed for a family like the other men. Now, in his old age, he had two doting women who did everything they could to make him comfortable, a girl who was following in their footsteps, and a healthy baby boy to cuddle the way he had done with the two girls. He had talked to Brun about the boy's training. The leader could not allow a male member of his clan to grow up without the necessary skills. Brun had accepted the child knowing he would be living at Creb's hearth and felt responsible for him. Ayla was grateful when Brun announced at Durc's totem ceremony that he would personally take charge of the baby's training if he became strong enough to hunt. She could think of no better man to train her son.

The Gray Wolf is a good totem for the boy, Creb mused, but it makes me wonder. Some wolves run with the pack and some are loners. Which one is Durc's totem?

When everything was packed and secured in bundles, and loaded on the backs of the young woman and the girl, they all trooped out of the cave together. Iza gave the baby a last hug while he nuzzled her neck, helped Ayla wrap him in the carrying cloak, and then took something from a fold of her wrap.

"This is for you to carry now, Ayla. You are the medicine woman of the clan," Iza said, giving her the red-dyed bag that held the special roots. "Do you remember every step? Nothing must be left out. I wish I could have shown you, but the magic can't be made just for practice. It's too sacred to be thrown away and it can't be used for any ceremony, only very important ones. Remember, it's not just the roots that make the magic; you must prepare yourselves as carefully as you prepare the drink."

Uba and Ayla both nodded as the young woman took the precious relic and put it in her medicine bag. Iza had given her the otter-skin pouch the day she was made medicine woman, and it still reminded her of the one Creb had burned. Ayla reached for her amulet and felt for the fifth object she carried in it now: a piece of black manganese dioxide nestled in the small pouch along with the three nodules of iron pyrite stuck together, a red-stained oval of mammoth ivory, the fossil cast of a gastropod, and a chunk of red ochre.

Ayla's body had been marked with the black ointment, made by crus.h.i.+ng and heating the black stone and mixing it with fat, when she became the repository of a part of the spirits of every member of the clan, and, through Ursus, of the entire Clan. Only for the highest and holiest of rituals was a medicine woman's body printed with black marks, and only medicine women were allowed to carry the black stone in their amulets.

Ayla wished Iza was going with them, and she worried about leaving her behind. Deep coughing spasms shook the fragile woman often.

"Iza, are you sure you're going to be all right?" Ayla motioned, after giving her a quick hug. "Your cough is worse."

"It's always worse in winter. You know it gets better in summer. Besides, you and Uba collected so many elecampane roots, I don't think there's a single plant left around here, and we probably won't have many black raspberries this season with all the roots you dug up to mix with wort flowers for my tea. I'll be fine, don't worry about me," Iza a.s.sured her. But Ayla noticed the relief from the medication was temporary at best. The old woman had been doctoring herself with the plants for years; her tuberculosis had progressed too far for them to be very effective anymore.

"Make sure you go outside on sunny days, and rest a lot," Ayla urged. "There won't be much work to do around here, there's plenty of food and wood. Zoug and Dorv can keep the fire going to keep animals and evil spirits away, and Aba can do the cooking."

"Yes, yes," Iza agreed. "Hurry now, Brun's ready to start."

Ayla fell into her customary place at the rear, while everyone looked at her and waited.

"Ayla," Iza motioned. "No one can start until you get in your right place."

Sheepishly, Ayla moved to the front of the group of women. She had forgotten her new status. Her face turned pink with embarra.s.sment as she stepped in line ahead of Ebra. She was uncomfortable; it just didn't seem right for her to be first. She waved an apologetic signal to the mate of the leader, but Ebra was accustomed to her second place. It seemed strange, though, to see Ayla in front of her instead of Iza; it made her wonder if she would be going to the next Clan Gathering.

Iza and the three people too old to make the trip accompanied the clan as far as the ridge and stood watching after them until they were small dots on the plain below. Then they returned to the empty cave. Aba and Dorv had missed the last Clan Gathering and were almost surprised they were alive to miss another, but it was the first time for Zoug and Iza. Though Zoug still went out with his sling occasionally, he returned empty-handed more often now, and Dorv couldn't see well enough to go out at all.

The four of them huddled around the fire at the entrance to the cave even though the day was warm, but they made no attempt at conversation. Suddenly, Iza was overcome by a fit of coughing that brought up a large, b.l.o.o.d.y ma.s.s of phlegm. She went to her hearth to rest and soon the others wandered into the cave and sat idly within their respective hearths. They had not been infected with the excitement of the long journey or the antic.i.p.ation of seeing friends and relatives from other clans. They knew their summer would be unbearably lonely.

The freshness of early summer in the temperate zone near the cave changed character on the open plains of the continental steppes to the east. Gone was the rich green foliage that filled out brush and deciduous trees, and still betrayed the new season's growth of conifers with needles a shade lighter at the tips of branches and spires. Instead, quick-rooting and sprouting herbs and gra.s.ses, already chest high, whose youthful verdancy was lost to the drab hue indeterminate between green and gold, stretched to the horizon. Thick, matted, old-season growth cus.h.i.+oned their steps as the clan wove their way across the illimitable prairie, leaving a temporary ripple behind showing the way they had come. Clouds rarely marred the boundless expanse above except for an occasional thunderstorm, more often seen from a distance. Surface water was scarce. They stopped to fill waterbags at every stream, unsure if they would find any conveniently close when they camped for the night.

Brun set a pace to accommodate the slower-moving members of the traveling party, but one that pushed them. They had a long way to go to reach the cave of the host clan in the high mountains of the mainland to the east. It was difficult going for Creb in particular, but antic.i.p.ation of the great Gathering and the solemn ceremonies he would lead buoyed his spirits. Though his body was crippled and atrophied, and further degenerated by arthritis, it did not impair the mental power of the great magician. The warm sun and Ayla's painkilling plants eased his aching joints, and after a time the exercise toughened the muscles even in the leg of which he had only limited use.

The travelers settled into a monotonous routine, one day blending into the next with weary regularity. The advancing season changed so gradually, they hardly noticed when the warm sun became a scorching ball of flame searing the steppes, turning the flat plain into a jaundiced monochrome of dun earth, buff gra.s.s, and beige rocks against a dust-laden, yellowish drab sky. For three days their eyes smarted with smoke and ashes carried by the prevailing winds from a sweeping prairie fire. They pa.s.sed ma.s.sive herds of bison, and giant deer with huge palmate antlers, horses, onagers, and a.s.ses; more rarely, saiga antelope with horns growing straight out of the tops of their heads slightly curved back at the tips; tens upon tens of thousands of grazing animals supported by the extensive gra.s.sland.

Long before they neared the marshy isthmus, which both connected the peninsula to the main continent and served as the outlet for the shallow salty sea to the northeast, the ma.s.sive mountain range, second highest on the earth, loomed into view. Even the lowest peaks were capped with glacial ice to halfway down their flanks, coldly unmoved by the searing heat of the plains. When the level prairie merged into low rolling hills, dotted with fescue and feather gra.s.s and red with the richness of iron ore-the red ochre making it hallowed ground-Brun knew the salt marsh was not far beyond. It was a secondary and more tenuous link. The primary connection of the peninsula to the mainland was the northern one that formed part of the western boundary of the smaller inland sea.

For two days they struggled through putrid, mosquito-infested swamps of brackish water, broken through by occasional channels, before they reached the mainland. Scrub oak and hornbeam quickly led to the cool, welcome shade of parkland oak woods. They pa.s.sed through an almost pure stand of beech, relieved by a few chestnut, and into a mixed forest dominated by oak, but including boxwood and yew, draped with clinging ivy and clematis. The lianas thinned out, but still climbed an occasional tree when they reached a belt of fir and spruce intermixed with beech, maple, and hornbeam. The western part was the wettest of the entire range and carried a dense cover of forests, and the lowest snowline.

They caught glimpses of forest bison and the red deer, roe deer, and elk of wooded landscapes; they saw boar, fox, badger, wolf, lynx, leopard, wildcat, and many smaller animals, but not a single squirrel. Ayla sensed something was missing in the fauna of these mountains before she realized the absence of the familiar creature. It was more than made up for by their first sighting of a cave bear.

Brun threw up his hand in a signal to stop, then pointed ahead at the monstrous s.h.a.ggy bruin rubbing his back against a tree. Even the children sensed the awe with which the clan viewed the ma.s.sive vegetarian. His physical presence was impressive enough. The brown bears of their own mountains, and of these too, averaged about three hundred and fifty pounds; the weight of a male cave bear, during the summer while he was still fairly lean, was closer to a thousand. In late fall, when he was fattened for winter, his bulk was much greater. He towered above the men of the clan by nearly three times their height, and with his huge head and s.h.a.ggy coat, seemed even bigger. Lazily scratching his back on the rough bark of the old snag, he appeared unaware of the people frozen in their tracks so close by. But he had little to fear from any creature and was simply ignoring them. The smaller brown bears inhabiting the area near their own cave had been known to break the neck of a stag with one blow of a powerful foreleg; what couldn't this huge bruin do? Only another male during rutting season, or the female of the species protecting her cubs, would dare to stand up to him. She was invariably successful.

But it was more than the tremendous size of the animal that held the clan spellbound. This was Ursus, the personification of the Clan itself. He was their kin, and more, he embodied their very essence. His bones alone were so sacred they could ward off any evil. The kins.h.i.+p they felt was a spiritual tie, far more meaningful than any physical one. It was through his Spirit that all the clans were united into one and meaning was given to the Gathering they had traveled so far to attend. It was his essence that made them Clan, the Clan of the Cave Bear.

The bear tired of his activity-or his itch was satisfied-and he stretched to his full height, walked on hind legs a few paces, then dropped down on all four legs. Muzzle drooping close to the ground, he moved ponderously away with a lumbering gallop. For all his great size, the cave bear was basically a peaceful creature and rarely attacked unless he was annoyed.

"Was that Ursus?" Uba motioned, agog with wonder.

"That was Ursus," Creb affirmed. "And you will see another cave bear when we get there."

"Does the host clan really have a living cave bear in their cave?" Ayla asked. "He's so big." She knew it was the custom for the clan that hosted the Clan Gathering to capture a cave bear cub and raise him in the cave.

"He's probably in a cage outside the cave now, but when he was young, he lived in the cave with them and was raised like a child, with every hearth feeding him whenever he wanted to eat. Most clans claim their cave bears even learn to talk a little, but I was young the time we hosted the Clan Gathering. I don't remember very much about it, so I can't say if that's true. When the bear is about half grown, he is put in a cage so he can't hurt anyone, but everyone still feeds him tidbits and pets him when they walk by so he will know he is loved. He will be honored at the Bear Ceremony and will carry our messages to the world of the spirits," Creb explained.

They'd been told about it before but, after seeing a cave bear, the story took on new meaning to those who were too young to remember or had never been to a Clan Gathering.

"When can we host a Clan Gathering and get a cave bear to live with us?" Uba asked.

"When it's our turn, unless the clan whose turn it is can't. Then we can offer. But clans seldom miss the opportunity to host the Clan Gathering, though hunters may have to travel a long way to find a cave bear cub, and the danger from the mother bear is very great. The clan that is hosting this time is fortunate. Cave bears still live near their cave. They have helped other clans to get cave bears, but now it's their turn. There are none left around our cave, but there must have been once, since the bones of Ursus were in our cave when we found it," Creb answered.

"What if something happens to the clan that is supposed to host a Gathering? Our clan doesn't even live in the same cave as before," Ayla asked. "If it was our turn, how would anyone know where to find us?"

"We'd send runners to the nearest clan to spread the news, either to tell the clans where the new cave is or to give another clan the chance."

Brun signaled, and the clan got under way again. When they pa.s.sed the tree used by the cave bear as a back scratcher, Creb examined it closely and retrieved a few tufts of hair still caught in the rough bark. He wrapped them carefully in a leaf held in his teeth, then tucked them away in a fold of his wrap. The hair from a living wild cave bear would make powerful charms.

The giant conifers of the lower foothills were replaced by shorter, st.u.r.dier upland varieties as they ascended, opening up to breathtaking views of the glistening mountaintops they had seen from a distance as they crossed the plains. Birch thickets appeared, and low-trailing juniper and rosy pink azalea, whose many-flowered blossoms were just beginning to bloom, splas.h.i.+ng the primary green of nature with bright color. A mult.i.tude of wild flowers added more shades to the palette of vibrant hues: spotted orange tiger lilies, mauve and pink columbine, blue and purple vetch, light lavender iris, blue gentian, yellow violet, primrose, and whites in a diversity of shapes. The southern mountain range, like the one at the lower tip of the peninsula which was folded during the same orogeny, was a refuge for the flora and fauna of a continent during the Ice Age.

Occasional chamois made an appearance, and heavy-horned mouflon. They were almost into the scrubby dwarf trees of mountainous taiga, bordering the high meadows of low sedges and gra.s.s, before they came to a well-worn path that traversed a steep incline. The men of the host clan had much farther to go before they reached the open plains north of the mountains to hunt, but the proximity of cave bears made the place so lucky, they were willing to accept the inconvenience. It also made them more adept at hunting the elusive forest animals.

The people running to greet the newly arriving clan, when they first saw Brun and Grod appear around a bend in the trail, stopped short at the sight of Ayla. The training of a lifetime could not prevent the shocked stares. Her position in front of the women, as the travel-weary clan filed silently to the open s.p.a.ce near the cave, caused a flurry of speculation. Creb had warned her, but Ayla wasn't prepared for the sensation she caused; nor was she prepared for the throng of people. Over two hundred stunned individuals crowded around to see the strange woman. Ayla had never seen so many people in her life, much less in one place.

They stopped in front of a huge cage of stout poles sunk deep in the ground, lashed firmly together. Inside was another of the ma.s.sive bears they had seen on their way, this one even bigger. Hand-fed for three years with a superabundance that kept him placid and tame, the gigantic cave bear lolled in lazy indolence within the fenced enclosure, almost too fat to stand up. It had been a labor of devotion and reverence for the small clan to maintain the huge bear for so long, and even the many gifts of food, implements, and furs brought by the visiting clans could not make up for the effort it took. But there wasn't a single person who didn't envy the members of the host clan, and every clan eagerly awaited its turn to take on the same task and reap the spiritual benefits and status of the great honor.

The cave bear waddled over to see what was causing the commotion, hoping for more handouts, and Uba crowded in closer to Ayla, as much overwhelmed by the crush of people as by the bear. The leader and the magician of the host clan approached them and made gestures of greeting, quickly followed by an angry question.

"Why have you brought one of the Others to our Clan Gathering, Brun?" the leader of the host clan motioned.

"She is a woman of the Clan, Norg, and a medicine woman of Iza's line," Brun returned, more calmly than he felt. A murmur rose from the watching people and a flash of excited hand signals.

"That's impossible!" the mog-ur gestured. "How can she be a woman of the Clan? She was born to the Others."

"She is a woman of the Clan," The Mog-ur repeated, just as adamantly as Brun. He fixed the host clan leader with a baleful glare. "Do you doubt me me, Norg?"

Norg looked at his mog-ur uncomfortably, but got no satisfaction from the magician's confused expression.

"Norg, we have traveled far and we are tired," Brun said. "This is hardly the time to discuss it. Do you deny us the hospitality of your cave?"

It was a tense moment. If Norg refused them, they would have no choice but to return the long distance back to their cave. It would be a grave breach of propriety, but to allow Ayla entrance would be tantamount to accepting her as a woman of the Clan; at least it would give Brun a clear edge. Norg looked again at his mog-ur, then at the powerful one-eyed man who was The Mog-ur, then back at the man who was leader of the clan ranked first of all the clans. If The Mog-ur said so, what could he do?

Norg signaled his mate to show Brun's clan to the place reserved for them, but he marched in beside Brun and The Mog-ur. As soon as they were settled, he was going to find out how a woman obviously born to the Others had become a woman of the Clan.

The entrance to the cave of the host clan was smaller than the entrance to the cave of Brun's clan, and the cave itself seemed smaller when they first walked in. But rather than one large room with a small adjunct for ceremonies, this cave was a series of rooms and tunnels that honeycombed their way far into the mountain, most of them unexplored. There was more than enough room to house all the visiting clans, though they might not have the advantage of light from the mouth. Brun's clan was led to the room second from the front and filled one whole side of it. It was a favorable location befitting their top-ranked status. Though several clans were already settled farther back, the place would have been held for them until the beginning of the actual Bear Festival. Only then, when it was certain they weren't coming, would it be given to the next-highest-ranked clan.