The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [105]
“I don’t know what we can do. Have you talked to her, Nezzie?”
“No. I heard her talking outside. She told Latie there was no place here to shelter the horses, they were used to coming in her cave when the weather was bad. Latie said we could make a shelter, and Jondalar suggested a tent or something near the entrance. Then Ayla said she didn’t think Frebec would like to have an animal so close, and I know she didn’t mean the horses.”
Talut headed for the entrance and Nezzie walked along. “We probably could make something for the horses,” he said, “but if she wants to go, we can’t force her to stay. She’s not even Mamutoi, and Jondalar is Zel … Zella … whatever it is.”
Nezzie stopped him. “Couldn’t we make her a Mamutoi? She says she has no people. We could adopt her, then you and Tulie could make the ceremony to bring her into the Lion Camp.”
Talut paused, considering. “I’m not sure, Nezzie. You don’t make just anyone Mamutoi. Everyone would have to agree, and we’d need some good reasons to explain it to the Council at the Summer Meeting. Besides, you said she’s leaving,” Talut said, then pushed the drape aside and hurried to the gully.
Nezzie stood just outside the archway watching Talut’s back, then shifted her gaze to the tall blond woman who was combing the thick coat of the hay-colored horse. Pausing to study her carefully, Nezzie wondered who she really was. If Ayla had lost her family on the peninsula to the south, they could have been Mamutoi. Several Camps summered near Beran Sea, and the peninsula wasn’t much farther, but somehow the older woman doubted it. Mamutoi knew that was flathead territory and stayed away as a rule, and there was something about her that didn’t quite look Mamutoi. Perhaps her family had been Sharamudoi, those river people to the west that Jondalar stayed with, or maybe Sungaea, the people who lived northeast, but she didn’t know if they traveled as far south as the sea. Maybe her people had been strangers traveling from some other place. It was hard to say, but one thing was certain. Ayla was not a flathead … and yet they took her in.
Barzec and Tornec came out of the lodge, followed by Danug and Druwez. They motioned morning greetings to Nezzie in the way Ayla had shown them; it was becoming customary with the Lion Camp, and Nezzie encouraged it. Rydag came out next, motioned his greeting and smiled at her. She motioned and smiled back, but when she hugged him, her smile faded. Rydag didn’t look well. He was puffy and pale and seemed more tired than usual. Perhaps he was getting sick.
“Jondalar! There you are,” Barzec said. “I’ve made one of those throwers. We were going to try it out up on the steppes. I told Tornec a little exercise would help him get over his headache from drinking too much last night. Care to come along?”
Jondalar glanced at Ayla. It wasn’t likely they were going to get anything resolved this morning, and Racer seemed to be quite content to have Latie giving him attention.
“All right. I’ll get mine,” Jondalar said.
While they waited, Ayla noticed that both Danug and Druwez seemed to be avoiding Latie’s efforts to get their attention, though the gangly, red-haired young man smiled shyly at her. Latie watched after her brother and her cousin with unhappy eyes when they left with the men.
“They could have asked me to go along,” she mumbled under her breath, then turned determinedly back to brushing Racer.
“You want learn spear-thrower, Latie?” Ayla asked, remembering early days when she watched after departing hunters wishing she could go along.
“They could have asked me. I always beat Druwez at Hoops and Darts, but they wouldn’t even look at me,” Latie said.
“I will show, if you want, Latie. After horses brushed,” Ayla said.
Latie looked up at Ayla. She remembered the woman’s surprising demonstrations with the spear-thrower and sling, and had noticed Danug smiling at her. Then a thought occurred to her. Ayla didn’t try to call attention to herself, she just went ahead and did what she wanted to do, but she