The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [253]
Ayla frowned slightly. She wasn’t sure if she was looking forward to her part in the Spring Festival. Mamut had been training her, and some very interesting things had been happening, but it was a little frightening. Not as much as she thought it would be, though. Everything would be fine. She smiled again.
Ranec had been watching her, wondering what was going through her mind, and trying to think of a way to approach the subject he had come for. “The ceremony could be especially exciting this year …” He paused, searching for the right words.
“I suppose you’re right,” Ayla said, still thinking about her part in the festival.
“You don’t sound very excited,” Ranec said, smiling.
“Don’t I? I really am looking forward to Fralie naming the baby, and I’m so pleased for Latie. I remember how happy I was when I finally became a woman, and how relieved Iza was. It’s just that Mamut is planning something and I’m not sure about it.”
“I keep forgetting that you haven’t been Mamutoi very long. You don’t know what a Spring Festival is all about. No wonder you’re not anticipating it like everyone else.” He shifted his feet nervously and looked down, then back at her. “Ayla, you might anticipate it more, I would, too, if …” Ranec stopped, decided to change his approach, and held out the object he’d been hiding. “I made this for you.”
Ayla saw what he held. She looked up at Ranec, her eyes wide with surprise and delight when she saw it. “You made this for me? But why?”
“Because I wanted to. It’s for you, that’s all. Think of it as a spring gift,” he said, urging her to take it.
She took the ivory carving, holding it carefully, and examined it. “This is one of your bird-woman figures,” Ayla said with awe and pleasure, “like the one you showed me before, but it’s not the same one.”
His eyes lit up. “I made it especially for you, but I should warn you,” he said with mock seriousness, “I put magic in it, so you will … like it, and the one who made it.”
“You didn’t have to put magic in it for that, Ranec.”
“You like it, then? Tell me, what do you think of it?” Ranec asked, though he usually didn’t ask people what they thought of his work; it didn’t matter to him what they thought. He worked for himself, and to please the Mother, but this time he wanted, more than anything, to please Ayla. He had put his heart, his yearning, and his dreams into every notch he cut, every line he etched, hoping this carving of the Mother would work magic on the woman he loved.
She looked closely at the figure and noticed the downward pointing triangle. It was the symbol of woman she had learned, and one reason three was the number of generative power and sacred to Mut. The angle was repeated as chevrons, on what would be the front of the carving, if it were a woman, or the back, if it were a bird. The whole object was decorated with rows of chevrons and parallel lines in a fascinating geometric design, which was pleasing to look at by itself, but suggested more.
“It’s beautifully made, Ranec. I especially like the way you did these lines. The pattern reminds me of feathers, in a way, but it also makes me think of water, like on the maps,” Ayla said.
Ranec’s smile turned into a delighted grin. “I knew it! I knew you would see it! The feathers of Her spirit when She becomes a bird and flies back in spring, and the birth waters of the Mother that filled the seas.”
“It’s wonderful, Ranec, but I can’t keep it,” she said, trying to give it back.
“Why not? I made it for you,” he said, refusing to take it.
“But what can I give you back? I have nothing to equal the value of this.”
“If that is what’s worrying you, I have a suggestion. You have something I want that is worth much more than this chunk of ivory,” Ranec said, smiling, his eyes flashing with humor … and love. He became more serious. “Join with me, Ayla. Be my woman. I want to share a hearth with you, I want your children to be the children of my hearth.”
Ayla was reluctant to answer. Ranec could see her hesitation, and kept on