The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [255]
“That is the main reason we called this gathering. Balderan has caused pain and suffering to many of you for many years. But now that we have him, we have to decide what to do with him. Whatever punishment we mete out to him should be something we all feel is appropriate,” Zelandoni First said.
Someone in the audience said, “Kill him,” in a loud whisper that everyone heard, including the zelandonia.
The One Who Was First responded, “That may well be the appropriate punishment, but who will do it, and how, is the question. It could be very unlucky if it is not handled properly,” the large woman said, “for all of us. The Mother has declared strong prohibitions against people killing other people, except in extraordinary circumstances. In an effort to find a solution for coping with Balderan, we don’t want to become what he is.”
“How did she catch him?” someone asked.
“You should ask her,” the First said, turning to Ayla.
This kind of situation always made her nervous, but she took a deep breath and tried to answer the question. “I have been a hunter since I was very young, and the weapon I first learned to use was a stone hurled with a sling,” she began. For those who had not heard her speak before, her accent was a surprise. It was rare for a foreigner to become part of the zelandonia and she had to wait until people quieted down before she could continue. “Now you know, I was not born a Zelandonii,” she said with a smile. Her comment brought a small chuckle from the audience.
“I was raised far to the east of here, and I met Jondalar when he was on his Journey.” People were settling down, getting ready to listen to what could be a very good story.
“When Balderan and his men first saw me, I had gone behind the trees for some privacy, and when I stood up to pull my leggings back on, they were staring at me. It made me angry that they were so impolite, and I told them so. Not that it did any good.” That brought a few chuckles from the group. “I usually keep my sling wrapped around my head; it is an easy way to carry it. When he came after me, I don’t think Balderan understood that it was a weapon as I began to unwind it.”
She unwound her sling as she was talking, then reached into her pouch and took out two of the stones she had collected from the dry streambed near their former camp earlier. She put the two ends of the sling together and placed a stone in the middle of a leather strap in a pocket that had formed from use. She had already selected a target: a varying hare in its brown summer coat sitting off to the side on a rock next to its hole. At the last minute, she also spied a pair of mallards, which had taken off from their nests near the river. With swift sure movements, she flung the first stone, and then the second.
People spoke out their surprise. “Did you see that!” “She killed that duck right out of the sky!” “She killed a rabbit, too!” The demonstration gave them a sense of her skill.
“I didn’t want to kill Balderan,” Ayla said.
“But she could have,” Jonokol interjected, which brought another murmur of voices.
“I only wanted to stop him, so I aimed for his thigh. I think he may have a good bruise to show for it. I hit the other man on the arm.” She whistled for Wolf, who came immediately at her call. That also brought a flurry of comments from the assembled group. “Balderan and the others didn’t notice Wolf at first. This wolf is my friend and he will do what I ask him to. When a third man tried to run away, I told Wolf to stop him. He didn’t attack him or try to kill him; he bit at the man’s ankle and tripped him. Then Jondalar came around the trees with his spear-thrower.
“As