The Shelters of Stone (Earth's Children 5)

“I greet you, Zelandoni of the Eleventh as One Who Serves She Who Is The Mother of All,” Ayla said, grasping his hands. He had a powerful grip that belied his slight build, and she sensed not only his wiry strength, but an inner force and surety. She also detected something else in the way he moved that reminded her of some of the mamutii she had met at the Mamutoi Summer Meeting.

The old Mamut who had adopted her had spoken of those who carried the essence of both male and female in one body. They were thought to possess the power of both genders and were sometimes feared, but if they joined the ranks of Those Who Served The Mother, they were often believed to be especially powerful and were welcomed. As a result, he had explained, many men who found themselves drawn to men as a woman would be, or women who were attracted to women as a man, were drawn to the Mammoth Hearth. She wondered if the same was true with the zelandonia and, judging from the man who stood there, guessed it might be.

She noticed the tattoo above his temple again. Like Zelandoni Who Was First, it consisted of squares, some outlined, some colored in, but he had fewer and different ones were filled in, and some additional curved markings. It made her aware that everyone there, except for Jondalar and herself, had some kind of facial tattoo. The least conspicuous was Willamar’s, the most ornate decorated the face of the woman leader, Kareja.

“Since Kareja has already bragged about the achievements of the Eleventh Cave,” the donier added, turning to acknowledge the Cave’s leader, “I will only add my invitation to you to visit, but I would like to ask a question. Are you also One Who Serves?”

Ayla frowned. “No,” she said. “What makes you think SO?

“I have been listening to gossip.” He smiled with his admission. “With your control over animals,” he said, motioning toward the wolf, “many people think you must be. And I recall hearing about mammoth hunting people to the east. It was said that Those Who Serve eat only mammoth and they all live in one place, perhaps at one hearth. When you were introduced as Of the Mammoth Hearth,’ I wondered if any of that was true.”

“Not quite,” Ayla said, smiling. “It is true that among the Mammoth Hunters, Those Who Serve The Mother belong to the Mammoth Hearth, but that doesn’t mean they all live together. It is a name, like the ‘zelandonia.’ There are many hearths—the Lion Hearth, the Fox Hearth, the Crane Hearth. They indicate the … line a person is affiliated with. One is usually born to a hearth, but can also be adopted. There are many different hearths at one Camp, which is named after the founder’s hearth. Mine was called the Lion Camp because Talut was of the Lion Hearth, and he was the headman. His sister, Tulie, was headwoman—every Camp has both a sister and brother as leaders.”

Everyone was listening with interest. Learning how other people organized themselves and lived was fascinating to people who primarily knew only their own way.

“Mamutoi means ‘the mammoth hunters’ in their language, or perhaps ‘the children of the Mother who hunt mammoths,’ since they also honor the Mother,” Ayla continued, trying to make it clear. “The mammoth is especially sacred to them. That’s why the Mammoth Hearth is reserved for Those Who Serve. People usually choose the Mammoth Hearth, or feel they are chosen, but I was adopted by the old Mamut of t

he Lion Camp, so I am a ‘Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth.’ If I were One Who Served, I would say ‘Chosen by the Mammoth Hearth or ‘Called to the Mammoth Hearth.’ ”

The two Zelandonia were poised to ask more questions, but Joharran interrupted. Although he was also intrigued, he was more interested at the moment in the people who had raised Ayla than the ones who had adopted her. “I’d like to hear more about the Mamutoi,” he said, “but Jondalar has been telling us some interesting things about those flatheads you met on your trip back. If what he says is true, we need to start thinking about flatheads in a completely different way. To be honest, I’m afraid they may pose a greater threat than we ever thought.”

“Why a threat?” Ayla asked, immediately on her guard.

“From what Jondalar tells me, they are … thinking people. We have always thought of flatheads as animals little different from cave bears, perhaps even related to them; a smaller, somewhat more intelligent type, but an animal,” Joharran said.

“We know some of the hollows and caves around here were once cave bear dens,” Marthona put in. “And Zelandoni was telling us that some of the Elder Legends and Histories say that sometimes cave bears were killed or chased away so that the First People could have homes. If some of those ‘cave bears’ were flatheads … well … if they are intelligent people, anything is possible.”

“If they are people, and we have treated them like animals, hostile animals,” Joharran paused, “I have to say that, if I were in their place, I would be considering some way to retaliate. I would have tried to get back at us a long time ago. I think we need to be aware of the possibility that they may.”

Ayla relaxed. Joharran had stated his position well. She could understand why he thought they might be a threat. He might even be right.

“I wonder if that’s why people have always insisted that flatheads are animals,” Willamar said. “Killing animals is one thing, if it’s necessary for food or shelter, but if they were people, even a strange kind of people, that’s something else. No one wants to think that their ancestors killed people and stole their homes, but if you convince yourself that they are animals, you can live with it.”

Ayla thought that was a surprising insight, but Willamar had made wise and intelligent comments before. She was beginning to understand why Jondalar had always spoken of him with such affection and respect. He was an exceptional man.

“Bad feelings can lie dormant for a long time,” Marthona said, “many generations, but if they have Histories and Legends, it gives them long memories, and trouble can flare up. Since you know so much more about them, I wonder if we could ask you some questions, Ayla.”

She wondered if she should tell them that the Clan did have stories and legends, but they didn’t need them to remember their history. They were born with long memories.

“It might be smart to attempt to make contact with them in a different way than we have in the past,” Joharran continued. “Perhaps we can avoid problems before they materialize. We might consider sending a delegation to meet with them, perhaps to discuss trading.”

“What do you think, Ayla?” Willamar said. “Would they be interested in trading with us?”

Ayla frowned in thought. “I don’t know. The Clan I knew were aware of people like us. To them, we were the Others, but they avoided contact. For the most part, the small clan I grew up with didn’t think about the Others most of the time. They knew I was one and not Clan, but I was a child, and a girl child at that. I was of little significance to Brun and the men, at least when I was young,” she said. “But Brun’s clan didn’t live near the Others. I think that was lucky for me. Until they found me, no one in his clan had ever seen a young one of the Others; some had never seen an adult, even from a distance. They were willing to take me in and take care of me, but I’m not sure how they would have felt if they had been chased away from their homes, or harassed by a pack of rough young men.”

“But Jondalar told us some people had contacted the ones you met on the way about trading,” Willamar said. “If other people trade with them, why can’t we?”

“Doesn’t that depend on whether they really are people and not animals related to cave bears?” Brameval interjected.

“They are people, Brameval,” Jondalar said. “If you ever had close contact with one, you’d know. And they’re smart. I encountered more than the couple that Ayla and I met when I was on my Journey. Remind me to tell you some stories, later.”

“You say you were actually raised by them, Ayla,” Manvelar said. “Tell us something about them. What kind of people are they?” The gray-haired man seemed reasonable, not one to jump to conclusions without learning as much as he could.

Ayla nodded, but paused for a moment to think before she replied. “It’s interesting that you think they are related to cave bears. There is a strange kind of truth in that; the Clan believe they are, too. They even live with one, sometimes.”

“Hhmmmf!” Brameval snorted, as if to say, “I told you!”

Ayla directed her comments to him. “The Clan venerates Ursus, the Spirit of the Cave Bear, much the way the Others honor the Great Earth Mother. They refer to themselves as the Clan of the Cave Bear. When the Clan has their big Gathering—like a Summer Meeting, but not every year—they have a very sacred ceremony for the Cave Bear Spirit. Long before the Clan Gathering, the host clan captures a cave bear cub, who lives with them in their cave. They feed him and raise him as one of their own children, at least until he gets too big, then they build a place for him that will keep him from running away, but they still feed and pamper him.