The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [238]
She smiled when he thanked her, but she seemed preoccupied, and sad. She had been abstracted all day. Mamut knew she had been upset since Jondalar moved away, and he wished he could help. He had seen Ranec talking to her earlier and he considered trying to talk to her about it, but he believed nothing happened in Ayla’s life without purpose. He was convinced the Mother had created her present difficulties for a reason, and he hesitated to interfere. Whatever trials she and the two young men were undergoing were necessary. He watched her going out to the horse annex, and was aware when she returned sometime later.
Ayla banked the fire, walked back to her bed platform, undressed and prepared for sleep. It was an ordeal facing the night knowing Jondalar would not be sleeping beside her. She busied herself with little tasks to delay settling herself into her furs, knowing she would lie awake half the night. Finally, she picked up the wolf puppy and sat on the edge of the bed, cuddling, stroking, and talking to the warm, loving little animal, until he went to sleep in her arms. Then she put him in his basket, petting him until he settled down again. To make up for Jondalar’s absence, Ayla lavished love on the wolf.
Mamut realized he was awake and opened his eyes. He could barely make out vague shapes in the darkness. The lodge was quiet, the night quiet that was filled only with the slight rustlings, heavy breathing, and low rumbles of sleep. He slowly turned his head toward the faint red glow of the embers in the firepit, trying to discover what had brought him out of his deep sleep to full wakefulness. He heard a strained breath nearby, and a stifled sob, and pushed his covers aside.
“Ayla? Ayla, are you in pain?” Mamut said softly. She felt a warm hand on her arm.
“No,” she said, her voice husky with strain. Her face was turned toward the wall.
“You are crying.”
“I’m sorry I woke you. I should have been more quiet.”
“You were quiet. It wasn’t your noise that woke me, it was your need. The Mother called me to you. You are in pain. You are hurting inside, isn’t that so?”
Ayla took a deep, painful breath, straining to repress the cry that wanted expression. “Yes,” she said. She turned to face him, and he saw tears glistening in the muted light.
“Then cry, Ayla. You should not hold it in. You have reason to be in pain, and you have a right to cry,” Mamut said.
“Oh, Mamut,” she cried in a great heaving sob, then still restraining the sound, but with the relief of his permission, quietly wept her heartbreak and anguish.
“Do not hold back, Ayla. It is good for you to cry,” he said, sitting on the edge of her bed and patting her gently. “It will all turn out as it should, as it is meant to be. It’s all right, Ayla.”
When she finally stopped, she found a piece of soft leather to wipe her face and nose, then sat up beside the old man. “I feel better, now,” she said.
“It is always best to cry when you feel the need, but it is not over, Ayla.”
Ayla bowed her head. “I know.” Then she turned to him and said, “But why?”
“Someday you will know why. I believe your life is directed by powerful forces. You were picked for a special fate. It is not an easy burden you carry; look what you have already been through in your young life. But your life will not be all pain, you will have great joys. You are loved, Ayla. You draw love to you. That is given to you to help you bear the burden. You will always have love … perhaps too much …”
“I thought Jondalar loved me …”
“Don’t be too certain he doesn’t, but many other people love you, including this old man,” Mamut said, smiling. Ayla smiled, too. “Even a wolf and horses love you. Haven’t there been many who have loved you?”
“You’re right. Iza loved me. She was my mother. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t born to her. When she died, she said she loved me best … Creb loved me … even though I disappointed him … hurt him.” Ayla stopped for a moment, then continued. “Uba loved me … and Durc.” She stopped again. “Do you think I’ll ever see my son again, Mamut?”
The shaman