Lanidar had been listening to the discussion with keen interest. “She whistles, mother. She can whistle like birds,” he interjected. “And she whistles to call her horses, but she can imitate a horse, and she sounds just like one when she does.”
“Is that true? Can you make the sound of a horse?” the mother asked.
“Why don’t you and Lanidar come and visit the camp of the Ninth Cave tomorrow morning, Mardena,” Ayla said. She was sure the woman was going to ask her to demonstrate, and she didn’t really want to make a loud horse neigh with so many people around. They would all turn and stare at her.
“Can I bring my mother?” Mardena asked. “I’m sure she’ll want to come.”
“Of course. Why don’t you all come and share a meal with us.”
“All right. We’ll come tomorrow morning,” Mardena said.
Ayla watched the boy and his mother walk away together. Before she turned to join the women and Wolf, she saw Lanidar look back at her with an absolutely grateful smile.
“Here’s your bird,” Folara said as she approached, holding out the willow grouse with the small spear still sticking out of it. “What are you going to do with it?”
“Well, since I just invited some people to share a meal tomorrow morning, I think I will end up cooking it for them,” Ayla said.
“Whom did you invite?” Marthona asked.
“That woman I was talking to,” Ayla said.
“Mardena?” Folara said with surprise.
“And her son, and her mother.”
“No one invites them, except to community feasts, of course,” Folara said.
“Why not?” Ayla asked.
“Now that I think about it, I’m not really sure,” Folara said. “Mardena keeps to herself. I think she blames herself, or thinks people blame her, for the boy’s arm.”
“Some people do,” Marthona said, “and the boy may have trouble finding a mate. Mothers will be afraid that hell bring crippling spirits with him to a mating.”
“And she always drags her boy around wherever she goes,” Folara said. “I think she’s afraid the other boys will pick on him if she lets him go anywhere alone. They probably would. I don’t think he has any friends. She doesn’t give him any opportunities.”
“I wondered about that,” Ayla said. “She seemed very protective of him. Too much, I think. She thinks his crippled arm limits his abilities, but I think his biggest limitation is not his arm, it’s his mother. She’s afraid to let him try, but he has to grow up sometime.”
“Why did you pick him to throw a spear, Ayla? It seemed like you knew him,” Marthona asked.
“Someone told him there were horses where we’re camped—the Upper Meadow, he called it—and he came to see them. I happened to be there when he came. I think he was trying to get away from the crowd, or his mother, but whoever told him didn’t say anything about us camping there. I know Jondalar and Joharran have been passing the word for people to stay away from the horses. Maybe the ‘someone’ who told Lanidar about them thought he would get in trouble if he came looking for them. But I don’t mind if people want to look, I just don’t want anybody thinking about hunting them. They’re too used to people. They wouldn’t know to run away,” Ayla explained.
“So of course, you let Lanidar touch the horses, and he got all excited, just like everyone does,” Folara said, grinning.
Ayla smiled back. “Well, maybe not everyone, but I think if people have a chance to get to know them, they’ll know they are special and won’t be tempted to hunt them.”
“You are probably right,” Marthona said.
“The horses seemed to take to him, and he learned my whistle for them right away, so I asked Lanidar if he would check on the horses when I’m not around. I didn’t think that his mother might object,” Ayla said.
“Not many mothers would object to letting a son who will soon be able to count twelve years learn more about horses, or any animal,” Marthona said.
“That many years? I would have thought he was a nine-or maybe a ten-year. He talked about Jondalar’s spear-throwing demonstration, but he said he didn’t want to go because he couldn’t throw a spear. He seemed to think it was beyond him, but there is nothing wrong with his left arm, and I had my spear-thrower with me, so I showed him how to use it. After talking to Mardena, I know where he got the idea, but at his years he should be learning some skills besides picking berries with his mother.” Ayla looked at both women. “There are so many people here, you can’t know all of them. How do you know Lanidar and his mother?”
“Any time a baby is born with something wrong with him like that, everybody hears about it,” Marthona said, “and they talk about it. Not necessarily in a bad way. They just wonder why it happened, and hope nothing like that ever happens to any of their children. So, of course, everyone knew when the man of his hearth left. Most people think it was because he was embarrassed to call Lanidar the son of his hearth, but I think at least part of it was Mardena. She didn’t want anybody to see the baby, not even her mate. She tried to hide him, and kept his arm covered, and got very protective of him.”
“That’s his problem, she still is. When I told her that I asked him to check on the horses when I’m not there, Mardena didn’t want to let him. I wasn’t asking for something he couldn’t do. I just want someone to make sure they are all right, and to come and get me if there is a problem,” Ayla said. “That’s why she’s coming over tomorrow, so I can try to persuade her that the horses won’t hurt him. And I’ve promised to teach him to hunt, or at least to throw a spear. I’m not sure how it all happened, but somehow the more she objected to him even trying to learn, the more determined I became to teach him.”
Both women were smiling and nodding with understanding.