The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [392]
“Will it be Tricie?” Ayla asked. “She loves you.”
Ranec nodded. “Perhaps. If she’ll have me. Now that she has a son, she will be in even greater demand, and she had plenty of offers before.”
Ayla stopped, and looked at Ranec. “I think Tricie will have you. She’s hurt now, but that’s because she loves you so much. But there is something else you should know. Her son, Ralev, he’s your son, Ranec.”
“You mean he’s the son of my spirit?” Ranec frowned. “You are probably right.”
“No, I don’t mean he’s the son of your spirit. I mean Ralev is your son, Ranec. He is the son of your body, your essence. Ralev is your son just as much as he is Tricie’s son. You started him growing inside her, when you shared Pleasures with her.”
“How do you know I shared Pleasures with her?” Ranec said, looking a little uncomfortable. “She was a red-foot last year, and very dedicated.”
“I know because Ralev was born, and he is your son. That’s how all life is started. That’s why Pleasures honor the Mother. It is the beginning of life. I know this, Ranec. I promise you, it is true, and this promise cannot be broken,” Ayla said.
Ranec frowned with concentration. It was a strange new idea. Women were mothers. They gave birth to children, daughters and sons. But could a man have a son? Could Ralev be his son? Yet Ayla said it. It had to be. She carried the essence of Mut. She was the Spirit Woman. She might even be the Great Earth Mother incarnate.
Jondalar checked the packs again, then led Racer to the head of the path, where Ayla was saying goodbye. Whinney was packed, and waiting patiently, but Wolf was running excitedly between them, knowing something was happening.
It had been difficult for Ayla to leave behind the people she loved when she was expelled from the Clan, but she’d had no choice. Saying goodbye, voluntarily, to the people she loved in the Lion Camp, knowing she would never see them again, was even harder. She had cried so many tears already this day, she wondered how she had any more to shed, yet her eyes watered anew each time she hugged another friend.
“Talut,” she sobbed, hugging the big, red-haired headman. “Did I ever tell you it was your laughter that made me decide to visit? I was so scared of the Others, I was ready to ride right back to the valley, until I saw you laughing.”
“You are going to have me crying in a moment, Ayla. I don’t want you to go.”
“I already am crying,” Latie said. “I don’t want you to go, either. Remember the first time you let me touch Racer?”
“I remember when she let Rydag ride Whinney,” Nezzie said. “I think that was the happiest day of his life.”
“I’m going to miss the horses, too,” Latie wailed, as she clung to Ayla.
“Maybe you can get a little horse of your own someday, Latie,” Ayla said.
“I will miss the horses, too,” Rugie said.
Ayla picked her up and gave her a squeeze. “Then maybe you’ll have to get a little horse, too.
“Oh, Nezzie,” Ayla cried. “How can I thank you? For everything? You know, I lost my mother when I was little, but I’m very lucky. I’ve had two mothers to replace her. Iza took care of me when I was a little girl, but you are the mother I needed to become a woman.”
“Here,” Nezzie said, handing her a package, and trying not to give way to tears entirely. “It’s your Matrimonial tunic. I want you to have it for your joining with Jondalar. He is like a son to me, too. And you are my daughter.”
Ayla hugged Nezzie again, then looked up at her big, strapping son. When she hugged Danug, he hugged her back with no reservations. She felt the maleness of his strength, and the warmth of his body, and a momentary spark of his attraction to her as he whispered in her ear, “I wish you had