The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [101]
“Where do you think we went, Ayla?” the old shaman asked.
“Not sure. Outside … I was in blizzard, and I see bison … with broken horn … by river.”
“You saw clearly. I was surprised when I felt you with me. But I should have realized it might happen, I knew you had potential. You have a gift, Ayla, but you need training, guidance.”
“A gift?” Ayla asked, sitting up. She felt a chill, and, for an instant, a shock of fear. She didn’t want any gifts. She only wanted a mate and children, like Deegie, or any other woman. “What kind of gift, Mamut?”
Jondalar saw her face pale. She looks so scared, and so vulnerable, he thought, putting his arm around her. He wanted only to hold her, to protect her from harm, to love her. Ayla leaned into his warmth and felt her apprehension lessen. Mamut noted the subtle interactions and added them to his considerations about this young woman of mystery who had suddenly appeared in their midst. Why, he wondered, in their midst?
He didn’t believe it was chance that led Ayla to the Lion Camp. Accident or coincidence did not figure largely in his conception of the world. The Mamut was convinced that everything had a purpose, a directing guidance, a reason for being, whether or not he understood what it was, and he was sure the Mother had a reason for directing Ayla to them. He had made some astute guesses about her, and now that he knew more about her background, he wondered if part of the reason she was sent to them was because of him. He knew it was likely that he, more than anyone, would understand her.
“I’m not sure what kind of gift, Ayla. A gift from the Mother can take many forms. It seems you have a gift for Healing. Probably your way with animals is a gift as well.”
Ayla smiled. If the healing magic she learned from Iza was a gift, she didn’t mind that. And if Whinney and Racer and Baby were gifts from the Mother, she was grateful. She already believed the Spirit of the Great Cave Lion had sent them to her. Maybe the Mother had something to do with it, too.
“And from what I learned today, I would say you have a gift for Searching. The Mother has been lavish with Her Gifts to you,” Mamut said.
Jondalar’s forehead furrowed with concern. Too much attention from Doni was not necessarily desirable. He had been told often enough how well favored he was; it hadn’t brought him much happiness. Suddenly he remembered the words of the old white-haired Healer who had Served the Mother for the people of the Sharamudoi. The Shamud had told him once that the Mother favored him so much no woman could refuse him, not even the Mother Herself could refuse him—that was his gift—but warned him to be wary. Gifts from the Mother were not an unmixed blessing, they put one in Her debt. Did that mean Ayla was in Her debt?
Ayla wasn’t sure if she liked the last gift very much. “I not know Mother, or gifts. I think Cave Lion, my totem, send Whinney.”
Mamut looked surprised. “The Cave Lion is your totem?” Ayla noticed his expression, and recalled how difficult it had been for the Clan to believe that a female could have a powerful male totem protecting her. “Yes. Mog-ur told me. Cave Lion choose me, and make mark. I show you,” Ayla explained. She untied the waist thong of the legged garment, and lowered the flap enough to expose her left thigh, and the four parallel scars made by a sharp claw, evidence of her encounter with a cave lion.
The marks were old, long healed, Mamut noted. She must have been quite young. How had a young girl escaped from a cave lion? “How did you get that mark?” he asked.
“I not remember … but have dream.”
Mamut was interested. “A dream?” he encouraged.
“Comes back, sometime. I am in dark place, small place. Light comes in small opening. Then”—she closed her eyes and swallowed—“something block light. I am frightened. Then big lion claw come in, sharp nails. I scream, wake