The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [125]
But why had she accepted him? Mamut wondered. Certainly there were other men who had made offers; Frebec had added to her difficulties. He had so little to offer, and Crozie was so disagreeable, that Fralie’s Camp had turned them out, and Frebec’s Camp had refused them. Then one after another of the other Camps had turned him down, even with a pregnant, high-status woman. And each time, out of her own feelings of panic, Crozie made it worse, berating him and blaming him, and making them even less desirable.
Frebec had been grateful when the Lion Camp had said yes, but they had been one of the last he’d tried. It wasn’t that they didn’t have a high station, but they were looked upon as having an unusual assortment of members. Talut had the ability to see the unusual as special rather than odd. He’d known status all his life, he was looking for something more, and he found it in the unusual. He came to relish that quality and fostered it in his Camp. Talut, himself, was the biggest man anyone had ever seen, not only among the Mamutoi, but the neighboring peoples as well. Tulie was the biggest and strongest woman. Mamut was the oldest man. Wymez was the best flint knapper, Ranec not only the darkest man but the best carver. And Rydag was the only flathead child. Talut wanted Ayla, who was most unusual with her horses, and her skills, and her gifts, and he wouldn’t mind Jondalar, who had come from the farthest away.
Frebec didn’t want to be unusual, especially since he could only see himself viewed as the least of something. He was still seeking standing among the ordinary, and he had begun by making a virtue of the most common. He was Mamutoi, therefore he was better than everyone who was not, better than anyone different. Ranec, with his dark skin—and his biting, satiric wit—wasn’t really Mamutoi. He hadn’t even been born among them, but Frebec was, and he was certainly better than those animals, those flatheads. That boy Nezzie loved so much had no status at all since he was born to a flathead woman.
And that Ayla, who came with her horses and her tall stranger, had already caught the disdainful eye of dark Ranec, whom all the women wanted in spite of his difference, or because of it. She hadn’t even looked at Frebec, as though she knew he wasn’t worth her attention. It didn’t matter that she was skilled, or gifted, or beautiful, he was certainly better than she; she wasn’t a Mamutoi and he was. What’s more, she had lived with those flatheads. Now Talut wanted to make her a Mamutoi.
Frebec knew he was the cause of the unpleasant scene that had erupted. He had proved he was important enough to keep her out, but he had made the big headman angrier than he’d ever seen him, and it was a little frightening to see the huge bear of a man so angry. Talut could pick him up and break him in two. At the very least, Talut could make him leave. Then how long would he keep his high-status woman?
Yet, for all his controlled anger, Talut was treating Frebec with more respect than he was accustomed to receiving. His comments had not been ignored or cast aside.
“Whether your objections are reasonable does not matter,” Talut continued, coldly. “I believe she has many unusual talents that could bring benefit to us. You have disputed that and say she has nothing of value to offer. I don’t know what could possibly be offered that someone could not dispute, if they wished …”
“Talut,” Jondalar said, “excuse my interruption while you hold the Speaking Staff, but I think I know something that could not be disputed.”
“You do?”
“Yes, I think so. May I speak with you alone?”
“Tulie, will you hold the Staff?” Talut said, then walked toward the Lion Hearth with Jondalar. A murmur of curiosity followed them.
Jondalar went to Ayla and spoke with her. She nodded, and putting Rydag down, got up and hurried to the Mammoth Hearth.
“Talut, are you willing to put out all the fires?” Jondalar said.
Talut