The Plains of Passage (Earth's Children 4)

The people surging toward the hunters, and toward Ayla, brought a warning snarl from Wolf. Jondalar quickly knelt to quiet him, but his reaction did have the effect of making the people back away. They looked at the woman and the animal with some trepidation.

Ayla didn't ask who had spoken that time. "Attaroa's spirit still walks among us," Ayla said, "encouraging violence and revenge."

"But Epadoa must pay for the evil she has done." Ayla saw the mother of Cavoa stepping forward. Her young, pregnant daughter stood just behind her, offering moral support.

Jondalar got up and stood beside Ayla. He could not help thinking that the woman had a right to retribution for the death of her son. He looked to S'Armuna. The One Who Served the Mother ought to be answering, he thought, but she, too, was waiting for Ayla to reply.

"The woman who killed your son has already gone to the next world," Ayla said. "Epadoa should pay for the evil she has done."

"She has more than that to pay for. What about the harm she did to these boys?" It was Ebulan who spoke. He stood back to let Ayla see two youngsters leaning on a cadaverous old man.

Ayla was startled when she saw the man; for an instant she thought she was looking at Creb! He was tall and thin, where the holy man of the Clan had been short and stocky, but his craggy face and dark eyes held the same kind of compassion and dignity, and he obviously commanded the same kind of esteem.

Ayla's first thought was to offer him the Clan gesture of respect by sitting at his feet and waiting for him to tap her shoulder, but she knew the action would be misunderstood. Instead, she decided to offer him the regard of formal courtesy. She turned to the tall man beside her.

"Jondalar, I cannot properly address this man without an introduction," she said.

He was quick to understand her sensitivity. He, too, had felt awed by the man. He stepped forward and led Ayla to him. "S'Amodun, most respected of the S'Armunai, may I introduce Ayla, of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth, Chosen by the spirit of the Cave Lion, and Protected by the Cave Bear."

Ayla was surprised that Jondalar had added the last part. No one had ever named the Cave Bear as her protector, but when she considered it, she thought it might be true, at least through Creb. The Cave Bear had chosen him—it was the totem of Mog-ur—and Creb had been in her dreams so much that she was sure he was guiding and protecting her, perhaps with the help of the Great Cave Bear of the Clan.

"S'Amodun of the S'Armunai welcomes the Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth," the old man said, hol

ding out both of his hands. He was not alone in singling out the Mammoth Hearth as the most impressive of her relationships. Most of the people there understood the importance of the Mammoth Hearth to the Mamutoi; it named her the equivalent of S'Armuna, One Who Served the Mother.

The Mammoth Hearth, of course, thought S'Armuna. It cleared up many questions she'd had. But where was her tattoo? Weren't those accepted to the Mammoth Hearth marked with a tattoo?

"I am happy you welcome, Most Respected S'Amodun," Ayla said, speaking in S'Armunai.

The man smiled. "You have learned much of our language, but you just said something twice. My name is Amodun. S'Amodun means 'Most Respected, Amodun,' or 'Greatly Honored,' or whatever you think of to mean singled out for special notice," he said. "It is a title imposed by the will of the Camp. I am not sure why I have earned it."

She knew why. "I thank you, S'Amodun," Ayla said, looking down and nodding with gratitude. Up close, he reminded her even more of Creb, with his deep, dark, luminous eyes, prominent nose, heavy brows, and generally strong features. She had to consciously overcome her Clan training—women were not supposed to stare directly at men —to look up and talk to him. "I would ask you a question," she said, speaking in Mamutoi, in which she was more fluent.

"I will answer if I can," he replied.

She looked at the two boys who stood on either side of him. "The people of this Camp want Epadoa to pay for the evil she has done. These boys, in particular, have suffered great harm at her hands. Tomorrow I will see if I can do anything to help them, but what retribution should Epadoa pay for carrying out the wishes of her leader?"

Involuntarily most people glanced at the body of Attaroa, still sprawled where Wolf had left her; then their eyes were drawn to Epadoa. The woman stood straight and unflinching, ready to accept her punishment. In her heart, she had known that someday she would have to pay.

Jondalar looked at Ayla, a little awed. She had done exactly the right thing, he thought. No matter what she might have said, even with the fearful respect she had gained, the words of a stranger would never be accepted by these people as willingly as the words of S'Amodun.

"I think Epadoa should pay for her evil," the man said. Many people nodded with satisfaction, particularly Cavoa and her mother. "But in this world, not the next. You were right when you said it was time to break the pattern. There has been too much violence and evil in this Camp for too long. The men have suffered greatly in recent years, but they did harm to the women first. It is time to end it."

"Then what retribution will Epadoa pay?" the grieving mother asked. "What will be her punishment?"

"Not punishment, Esadoa. Restitution. She should give back as much as she has taken, and more. She can start with Doban. No matter what the Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth may be able to do for him, it is unlikely that Doban will ever recover fully. He will suffer ill effects for the rest of his life. Odevan will suffer, too, but he has a mother, and kin. Doban has no mother, no kin to care for him, no one to take responsibility for him, or see to it that he is trained in some craft or skill. I would make Epadoa responsible for him, as if she were his mother. She may never love him and he may hate her, but she should be held accountable."

There were nods of approval. Not everyone agreed, but someone had to take care of Doban. Although everyone had felt his pain, he had not been well liked when he lived with Attaroa, and no one wanted to take him in. Most people felt that if they objected to S'Amodun's idea, they might be asked to open their lodges to him.

Ayla smiled. She thought it was a perfect solution, and though there might be hatred and lack of trust in the beginning, warmth could grow into the relationship. She had known S'Amodun was wise. The idea of restitution seemed much more helpful than punishment, and it gave her an idea.

"I would offer another suggestion," she said. "This Camp is not well stocked for winter, and by spring everyone may suffer hunger. The men are weak, and they have not hunted for some years. Many may have lost their skills. Epadoa and the women she has trained are the best hunters of this Camp. I think it would be wise for them to continue to hunt, but they must share the meat with everyone."

People were nodding. The thought of facing hunger was not appealing.

"As soon as any of the men are able, and want to start hunting, it should be Epadoa's responsibility to help them, hunt with them. The only way to avoid facing hunger next spring is if the women and the men work together. Every Camp needs the contribution of both to thrive. The rest of the women, and the older or weaker men, should gather whatever foods they can find."

"It's winter! There is nothing to gather now," one of the young Wolf Women said.