The Plains of Passage (Earth's Children 4)

"It is the boundary," he motioned impatiently.

"The river goes on for a greater distance than many know, to a great sea, far to the east. The clan of this woman lives beyond the end of Great Mother," Ayla signed.

He looked incredulous, then studied her. He knew that, unlike the people of the Clan whose language included the understanding of unconscious body movements and gestures, which made it almost impossible to say one thing and mean something else, the people of the Others, who spoke with sounds, were different. He couldn't be sure about her. He could see no signs of dissimulation, but her story seemed so farfetched.

"This woman has been traveling since the beginning of last warm season," she added.

He became impatient again, and Ayla realized he was in great pain. "What does the woman want? Others are gone, why does the woman not go?" He knew that she had probably saved his life and had helped his mate, which meant he owed her an obligation; that would make them the next thing to kin. The thought was unsettling.

"This woman is a medicine woman. This woman would look at the man's leg," Ayla explained.

He snorted with disdain. "The woman cannot be a medicine woman. The woman is not Clan."

Ayla did not argue. She thought a moment, then decided to try another approach. "This woman would speak to the man of the Others," she requested. He nodded approval. She stood up, then backed away before she turned around and went to talk to Jondalar.

"Are you able to communicate with him very well?" he asked her. "I know you are making a good attempt, but the Clan you lived with is so far away, I can't help but wonder how successful you are."

"I started out using the everyday language of my clan, and we couldn't understand each other. I should have known their ordinary signs and words would not be the same, but when I used ancient formal language, we had no trouble communicating," Ayla explained.

"Did I understand you right? Are you saying that the Clan can communicate in a way that is understood by all of them? No matter where they live? That's hard to believe."

"I suppose it is," she said, "but their ancient way is in their memories."

"You mean they are born knowing how to speak in that way? Any baby can do it?"

"Not exactly. They are born with their memories, but they have to be 'taught' how to use them. I'm not sure how it works, I don't have the memories, but it seems to be more like 'reminding' them of what they know. Usually they only have to be reminded once, and then it's set. That's why some of them thought I wasn't very smart. I was so slow to learn, until I taught myself to memorize fast, and even then it wasn't easy. Rydag had the memories, but he didn't have anyone to teach him ... to remind him. That's why he didn't know the sign language until I came."

"You, slow to learn! I've never seen anyone learn languages so fast," Jondalar said.

She shrugged off the comment. "That's different. I think the Others have a kind of memory for word language, but we learn to speak the sounds of those around us. To learn a different language, you just have to memorize another set of sounds, and sometimes another way of putting them together," she said. "Even if you aren't perfect, you can understand each other. His language is more difficult, fo

r us, but communication isn't the problem I'm having with him. Obligation is the problem."

"Obligation? I don't understand," Jondalar said.

"He's in terrible pain, though he'll never let you know it. I want to help him, I want to set that leg. I don't know how they're going to get back to their clan, but we can worry about that later. First I need to fix his leg. But he is already in our debt, and he knows that if I can understand his language, I understand the obligation. If he believes we saved his life, it's a kinship debt. He doesn't want to owe us more," Ayla said, trying to explain a very complex relationship in a simple way.

"What's a kinship debt?"

"It's an obligation..." Ayla tried to think of a way to put it that would make it clear. "It's usually between hunters of a clan. If one man saves another man's life, he 'owns' a piece of the other's spirit. The man that would have died gives up a piece to be restored to life. Since a man doesn't want any pieces of his spirit to die—to walk the next world before he does—if another man owns a piece of his spirit, he will do anything to save that man's life. That makes them kin, closer than brothers."

"That makes sense," Jondalar said, nodding.

"When men hunt together," Ayla continued, "they have to help each other, and they often save each other's lives, so a piece of each one's spirit usually belongs to each of the others. It makes them kin in a way that goes beyond family. Hunters in a clan may be related, but the kinship of family cannot be stronger than the bond between the hunters, because they cannot favor one over the other. They all have to depend on each other."

"There is wisdom in that," Jondalar said thoughtfully.

"That's called a kinship debt. This man doesn't know the customs of the Others, and he doesn't think much of what he does know."

"After Charoli and his band, who can blame him?"

"It goes much beyond that, Jondalar. But he's not happy about being in our debt."

"He told you all this?"

"No, of course not, but the language of the Clan is more than signs made with the hands. It's the way a person sits, or stands, expressions on the face, small things, but they all have meaning. I grew up with a clan. Those things are as much a part of me as they are of him. I know what's bothering him. If he could accept me as a medicine woman of the Clan, it would help."

"What difference would that make?" Jondalar said.