The Land of Painted Caves (Earth's Children 6)

“I imagine it does,” Marthona said, looking away.

Ayla frowned. “Why should my stomach hurt?”

“You’re bleeding, Ayla. You probably have cramps, and more.”

“Bleeding? How can I be bleeding? I’ve missed three moontimes, I’m pregnant … Oh, no!” Ayla cried. “I’ve lost the baby, haven’t I?”

“I think so, Ayla. I’m not expert in those things, but every woman knows you can’t be pregnant and bleed at the same time, at least not as much as you have. You were bleeding when you came out, and a lot since then. I think it may take a while for you to regain your strength. I’m sorry, Ayla. I know you wanted this baby,” Marthona said.

“The Mother wanted her more,” Ayla said in a dry monotone of grief-stricken shock. She lay back down and stared up at the underside of the limestone overhang. She didn’t even realize when she fell asleep again.

The next time she woke, Ayla had a strong urge to pass water. It was obviously nighttime, dark, but several lamps were burning. She looked around and saw Marthona asleep on some cushions beside the bed platform. Wolf was beside the old woman with his head up, looking at her. He’s got two of us to worry and watch over now, she thought. She rolled to her side and pulled herself up again, sitting on the bed platform for a while before she tried to get up. She was stiff, and still sore and achy, but she felt stronger. Carefully, she eased herself to her feet. Wolf stood up, too. She signaled him down again, then took a step toward the night basket near the entrance.

She wished she had thought to take some changes of absorbent padding with her. She had been bleeding quite heavily. As she started back to her sleeping place, Marthona approached, bringing her a change.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Ayla said.

“You didn’t. Wolf did, but you should have. Would you like some water? I also have some stew, if you’re ready to eat,” Marthona said.

“Water would be nice, and maybe a little stew,” Ayla said, returning to the night basket to change to clean padding. Movement had eased her soreness.

“Where do you want to eat? In bed?” the woman asked as she limped to the cooking area. She, too, was stiff and sore. Her sleeping place and position had not been good for her arthritis.

“No, I’d rather sit at the table.” Ayla went into the cooking area and poured a little water into a small basin bowl, then rinsed her hands and using a small absorbent leather scrap wiped off her face. She was sure Marthona had cleaned her up a little, but she wanted to take a nice, refreshing swim with some soaproot. Maybe in the morning, she thought.

The stew was cold, but tasty. Ayla thought she’d be able to eat several bowls of it when she took the first few bites, but she filled up sooner than she thought. Marthona made them both some hot tea and joined Ayla at the table. Wolf slipped outside while the two women were up, but was back before very long.

“Did you say Zelandoni expected that I would do something?” Ayla asked.

“She didn’t really expect it. She just thought it was possible.”

“What did she expect? I don’t really understand what happened,” Ayla said.

“I think Zelandoni could tell you better. I wish she was here, but I think you are Zelandoni now. I think you were ‘called,’ as they say. Do you remember anything?” Marthona asked.

“I remember things, and then all of a sudden, I remember something else, but I can’t seem to sort it out,” Ayla said, frowning.

“I wouldn’t worry about it yet. Wait until you have a chance to talk to Zelandoni. I’m sure she’ll be able to explain things and help you. Right now, you just need to get your strength back,” Marthona said.

“You’re probably right,” Ayla said, relieved to have an excuse to put off dealing with the whole thing. She didn’t even want to think about it, though she couldn’t help remembering the baby she had lost. Why did the Mother want to take her baby?

Ayla did little except sleep for several days, then one day she woke up feeling starved, and couldn’t seem to get enough to eat for the next couple of days. When she finally emerged from her dwelling and joined the small group, they all looked at her with new respect, even awe, and a touch of apprehension. They knew she had been through an ordeal, which they were convinced had changed her. And they all felt a certain pride because they were there when it happened, and by association, they felt that they were somehow a part of it.

“How are you feeling?” Jeviva asked.

“Much better,” Ayla said, “but hungry!”

“Come and join us. There is plenty of food and it’s still warm,” Jeviva said.

“I think I will.” She sat down beside Jeralda, while Jeviva prepared a dish for her. “And how are you feeling?”

“Bored!” Jeralda said. “I’m so tired of sitting and lying around. I wish it was time for this baby to come.”

“I think it is probably time for the baby to come. It wouldn’t hurt if you took a walk now and then to encourage it. It’s just a matter of waiting until the baby feels ready. I thought so the last time I examined you,” Ayla said, “but I thought I’d wait before I said anything, and then I got distracted. I’m sorry.”

That evening Marthona mentioned, with some hesitation, “I hope I didn’t do anything wrong, Ayla.”

“I don’t understand.”