The clan of the cave bear_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [196]
“I followed you the day you left. I was so afraid something would happen to you. I brought you some food and some tea to make your milk flow. Mother made it.”
“Does Iza know where I am?”
“No. She knows I do, though. I don’t think she wants to know or she’ll have to tell Brun. Oh, Ayla, Brun is so mad at you. The men have been searching for you every day.”
“I saw their footprints by the spring, but they didn’t see the cave.”
“Broud is bragging about how he knew all along how bad you were. I’ve hardly seen Creb at all since you left. He spends all day in the place of the spirits, and mother is so upset. She wants me to tell you not to come back,” Uba said, her eyes wide with fear for the young woman.
“If she hasn’t talked to you about me, how could Iza give you a message for me?” Ayla asked.
“She cooked extra last night and this morning, too. Not too much—I think she was afraid Creb would guess it was for you—but she didn’t eat her share. Later she made the tea, then she started moaning and talking to herself like she was grieving for you, she’s been grieving for you ever since you left, but she was looking right at me. She kept saying, ‘If only someone could tell Ayla not to come back. My poor child, my poor daughter, she has no food, she’s weak. She needs to make milk for her baby,’ and things like that. Then she left the hearth. This waterbag was right next to the tea and the food was all wrapped.
“She must have seen me go when I followed you,” Uba continued. “I wondered why she didn’t scold me for being gone so long. Brun and Creb are both mad at her for not telling that you were going to hide. If they knew she had some idea how to find you and didn’t tell them, I don’t know what they’d do to her. But no one has asked me. No one pays much attention to children anyway, especially girls. Ayla, I know I should tell Creb where you are, but I don’t want Brun to curse you, I don’t want you to die.”
Ayla could feel her heart beating in her ears. What have I done? She hadn’t realized the extent of her weakness or how difficult it would be to survive alone with a small baby when she threatened to leave the clan. She had counted on going back on her baby’s naming day. What am I going to do now? She picked up her baby and held him close. But I couldn’t let you die, could I?
Uba looked sympathetically at the young mother who seemed to have forgotten she was there. “Ayla,” she said tentatively. “Could I see him? I never did get a chance to see your baby.
“Oh, Uba, of course you can see him,” she motioned, feeling bad that she had been ignoring the girl after she came all the way to bring Iza’s message. She could get into trouble for it, too. If it was ever found out that Uba knew how to find Ayla and didn’t tell, her punishment would be severe. It could ruin her life.
“Would you like to hold him?”
“Could I?”
Ayla put the baby in her lap. Uba started to move aside his swaddling, then looked up at Ayla for permission. The mother nodded.
“He doesn’t look so bad, Ayla. He’s not crippled like Creb. He’s kind of skinny, but it’s mostly his head that looks different. Not as different as you, though. You don’t look like anyone else in the clan.”
“That’s because I wasn’t born to the Clan. Iza found me when I was a little girl. She says I was born to the Others. I’m Clan now, though,” Ayla said proudly, then her face dropped. “But not for long.”
“Do you ever miss your mother? I mean your real mother, not Iza?” the girl asked.
“I don’t remember any mother except Iza. I don’t remember anything before I came to live with the clan.” She suddenly blanched. “Uba, where will I go if I can’t go back? Who will I live with? I’ll never see Iza again, or Creb either. This is the last time I’ll ever see you. But I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t let my baby die.”
“I don’t know, Ayla. Mother says Brun will lose face if you make him accept your son, that’s why he’s so mad. She says if a woman makes a man do something, the other men won’t respect him anymore. Even if he curses you afterward, he’ll