The clan of the cave bear_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [268]
“It’s just a name he uses for me,” Ayla answered, turning her head aside. The Clan stricture against unnecessary words or sounds has been so firmly ingrained in Ayla from the time she first arrived, she felt guilty about the word game she played with her son. Uba didn’t press, though she knew there was something Ayla was withholding.
“Sometimes when I go out with Durc alone, we make sounds together,” Ayla admitted. “He just picked those sounds for me. He can make a lot of sounds.”
“You can make sounds, too. Mother said you used to make all kinds of sounds and words when you were little, especially before you learned to talk,” she gestured. “I still remember when I was a baby, I used to love that sound you made when you rocked me.”
“I guess I did when I was little, I don’t really remember too well,” Ayla motioned. “Durc and I just have a game we play.”
“I don’t think there’s anything so wrong with that,” Uba said. “It’s not like he can’t talk. I wish these roots weren’t so rotten,” Uba added, throwing a large one away. “It’s not going to be much of a feast tomorrow with only dried meat and fish and half-rotten vegetables. If Brun would only wait a little longer, there would at least be some greens and shoots.”
“It’s not just Brun,” Ayla said. “Creb says the best time is the first full moon after the beginning of spring.”
“How does he know the beginning of spring, I wonder?” Uba remarked. “One rainy day looks like another to me.”
“I think it has something to do with watching the sun set. He’s been watching it go down for days. Even when it rains, you can often see where the sun goes to sleep, and there’ve been enough clear nights to see the moon. Creb knows.”
“I wish Creb wasn’t going to make Goov the mog-ur, too,” Uba said.
“So do I,” Ayla motioned. “He sits around too much doing nothing these days as it is. What will he do with himself when he doesn’t even have ceremonies to perform? I knew it had to happen sometime, but this is one feast I’m not going to enjoy.”
“It will seem strange. I’m used to Brun as the leader and Creb as Mog-ur, but Vorn says it’s time for the younger men to lead. He says Broud has waited long enough.”
“I suppose he’s right,” Ayla motioned. “Vorn has always admired Broud.”
“He’s good to me, Ayla. He didn’t even get angry when I lost the baby. He just said he would ask Mog-ur for a charm to make his totem strong again so it could start another one. He must like you, too, Ayla. He even told me to ask you to let Durc sleep with us. I think he knows how much I like having him around,” Uba confided. “Even Broud hasn’t been so bad to you lately.”
“No, he hasn’t bothered me much,” Ayla motioned. She didn’t know how to explain the fear she felt every time he looked at her. She could even feel the hair rising on the back of her neck if he stared at her when she wasn’t looking.
Creb stayed late with Goov in the place of the spirits that evening. Ayla fixed a light meal for Durc and herself and put something aside for Creb to eat when he returned, though she doubted if he’d bother to eat it. She had awakened that morning with a feeling of anxiety that grew worse as the day wore on. The cave seemed to close in on her and her mouth felt dry as dust. She only managed to choke down a few bites, then suddenly jumped up and ran to the mouth of the cave and stared out at the leaden sky and the heavy, soaking rain making small craters in the saturated mud. Durc crawled into her bed and was already asleep when she returned to the hearth. As soon as he felt her crawl in beside him, he snuggled closer and made a half-conscious gesture that ended with the word, “Mama.”
Ayla wrapped her arm around him, feeling his beating heart as she held him, but sleep was long in coming for her. She lay awake looking at the shadowed contours of the rough rock wall in the dim light of the dying fire. She was awake when Creb finally returned, but she lay still, listening to him shuffling around,