The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [351]
Ayla woke early the next morning. Even after she did finally go to sleep, she did not sleep well. She woke often from dreams of shaking earth and crumbling caves, and felt uneasy and depressed. She helped Nezzie heat water for soup and grind grains for a morning meal, and was glad for the opportunity to talk with her.
“I feel terrible about all the trouble I’ve caused, Nezzie. The whole Lion Camp is being shunned because of me,” Ayla said.
“Don’t even say that. It’s not your fault, Ayla. We had a choice, and we made it. You were only defending Rydag, and he is a member of Lion Camp, too, at least to us.”
“All this trouble has made me realize something,” Ayla continued. “Ever since I left the Clan, I’ve always thought about going back to get my son someday. Now I know I never can. I can’t bring him here, and I can’t go back there. But knowing that I’ll never see him makes me feel that I just lost him all over again. I wish I could cry, grieve for him, mourn for him, but I just feel dry and empty.”
Nezzie was sorting through yesterday’s fresh-picked berries and pulling off the stems. She stopped and gave Ayla a level gaze. “Everyone suffers disappointments in life. Everyone loses loved ones. Some are real tragedies You lost your people when you were young. That was a tragedy, but there was nothing you could do about it. It’s worse if you blame yourself. Wymez lives every day of his life blaming himself for the death of the woman he loved. I think Jondalar blames himself for his brother’s death. You’ve lost a son. It is hard for a mother to lose a child, but you do have something. You know he is probably still alive. Rydag lost his mother … someday I will lose him.”
After breakfast, Ayla went out. Most people were staying around Cattail Camp. She looked toward the center of the Meeting, then at Larch Camp, the newly set up summer home of the Mammoth Camp. She was surprised to see Avarie looking across at her. She wondered how they felt today about setting up the Camp so close to Lion Camp.
Avarie went to the tent her brother had designated as the Mammoth Hearth, scratched on the leather, then without waiting for a response, went in. Vincavec had spread his fur bedroll out so that it took up almost half the floor space. In the middle was a backrest, an ornately decorated hide stretched across a mammoth bone frame that had been lashed together with rawhide. He was sitting up on his furs, lounging against the backrest.
“The feelings are mixed,” she said without preamble.
“I can imagine,” Vincavec replied. “Lion Camp worked hard with us putting up the lodge. By the time they left, everyone was feeling more than friendly toward them. And Ayla with her horses and wolf was fascinating—and a little awe-inspiring. But now, if old stories and customs are to be believed, Lion Camp is sheltering an abomination, a woman of unbridled evil, who draws animal flathead spirits to her like a fire draws moths at night, and spreads them around to the other women. What do you think, Avarie?”
“I don’t know, Vincavec. I like Ayla, and she doesn’t seem like an evil person to me. The boy doesn’t seem like an animal, either. He’s just weak and can’t talk, but I do believe he understands. Maybe he is human, and maybe the other flatheads are, too. Maybe the old Mamut is right. The Mother just chose a spirit from the only men near Ayla when She gave her a baby. I didn’t know she lived with a pack of flatheads once, though, or that the old man did.”
“That old man has lived so many years, he’s forgotten more things than a double handful of younger men have ever learned, and he’s often right. I have a feeling about this, Avarie. I don’t think it will have lasting bad effects. There is something about Ayla that makes me think the Mother watches out