The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [379]
“Creb said to hurry. We have to leave!”
“As soon as we can, Ayla. I promise, as soon as we can,” Jondalar said, feeling a nagging edge of worry. They did need to leave and get across the glacier as soon as possible, but they couldn’t go before the Mother Festival, could they?
Though it did little to warm the freezing air, the late afternoon sun streamed through the branches of trees, which broke up the coruscating rays but did not block the blinding western light. To the east, the glaciered mountain peaks, reflecting the brilliant orb that was descending into fiery clouds, were suffused with a soft rosy glow that seemed to emanate from within the ice. The light would soon be failing, but Jondalar and Ayla were still in the field outside the cave, although he was watching along with everyone else.
Ayla took a deep breath, then held it, not wanting to obstruct her view with the steamy fog of her breath while she took careful aim. She shifted the two stones in her hand, then placed one in the pocket of the sling, whirled it around and flung it, letting go of one end. Then, starting at the end she still held, she quickly ran it through her hand to retrieve the loose end, dropped the second stone in the cup, whirled and cast it. She could cast two stones faster than anyone had ever imagined.
“Oooh!” “Look at that!” People who had been standing at the large mouth of the cave during the demonstrations of spear-throwing and rock-slinging let out the breaths they, too, had been holding and made comments of surprise and appreciation. “She broke up both snowballs from all the way across the field.” “I thought she was good with the spear-thrower, but she’s even better with that sling.”
“She said it would take practice to learn to throw spears with accuracy, but how much practice did it take to throw rocks like that?” Larogi said. “I think it would be easier to learn to use the spear-thrower.”
The demonstration was over, and as night was closing in, Laduni stepped in front of the people and announced that the feast was almost ready. “It will be served at the central hearth, but first, Losaduna will dedicate the Festival to the Mother at the Ceremonial Hearth, and Ayla is going to give another demonstration. What she is going to show you is remarkable.”
As the people excitedly began making their way back into the cave away from the large open mouth, Ayla noticed Madenia talking with some friends and was glad to see that she was smiling. Many had commented on how pleased they were to see her joining in the group’s activities, though she was still shy and withdrawn. Ayla could not help thinking what a difference it made when people cared. Unlike her experience, where everyone felt Broud had the right to force her any time he wanted, and thought she was odd for resisting and hating him, Madenia had the support of her people. They took her side. They were angry at those who had forced her, understood what an ordeal it had been, and wanted to correct the wrong that had been done to her.
Once everyone was settled inside the enclosed space of the Ceremonial Hearth, the One Who Served the Mother came out of the shadows and stood behind a lighted fireplace surrounded by a circle of almost perfectly matched round stones. He picked up a small stick with a pitch-dipped end, held it to the fire until it caught, then turned around and walked to the stone wall of the cave.
With his body blocking the view, Ayla could not see what he was doing, but when a glowing light spread out around him, she knew he had lit a fire of some kind, probably a lamp. He made some motions and began chanting a familiar litany, the same repetition of the various names of the Mother that he had chanted during Madenia’s cleansing ritual. He was invoking the spirit of the Mother.
When he backed away and turned to face the gathering, Ayla saw that the glow came from a stone lamp he had lit in a niche in the cave wall. The fire cast dancing shadows, larger