The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [422]
“Guban believes that his spirit and yours are now intertwined, in this life and the next. A piece of your spirit will always be with him, just as a piece of his will always be with you. That’s why he was so concerned. He lost his piece when you saved his life, but you gave him one back, so there is no hole, no emptiness.”
“I wasn’t the only one who saved his life. You did as much as I did, and more.”
“But I am a woman, and a woman of the Clan is not the same as a man of the Clan. It is not an even exchange because one cannot do what the other does. They don’t have the memories for it.”
“But you set his leg and fixed it so he could get back.”
“He would have gotten back; I wasn’t worried about that. I was afraid his leg wouldn’t heal right. Then he wouldn’t be able to hunt.”
“Is it so bad not to hunt? Couldn’t he do something else? Like those S’Armunai boys?”
“The status of a Clan man depends on his ability to hunt, and his status means more to him than his life. Guban has responsibilities. He has two women at his hearth. His first woman has two daughters, and Yorga is pregnant. He promised to care for all of them.”
“What if he can’t?” Jondalar asked. “What will happen to them?”
“They wouldn’t starve, his clan would take care of them, but their status—the way they live, their food and clothes, the respect they are shown—depends on his status. And he would lose Yorga. She’s young and beautiful, another man would be glad to take her, but if she has the son Guban has always wanted, she would take him with her.”
“What happens when he gets too old to hunt?”
“An old man can give up hunting slowly, gracefully. He would go to live with the sons of his mate, or the daughters if they were still living with the same clan, and he wouldn’t be a burden on the whole clan. Zoug developed his skill with a sling so he could still contribute, and even Dorv’s advice was still valued, though he could hardly see. But Guban is a man in his prime, and a leader. To lose it all at once would take the heart out of him.”
Jondalar nodded. “I think I understand. Not hunting wouldn’t bother me so much. I would hate it, though, if something happened to me so that I couldn’t work the flint any more.” He paused to reflect, then said, “You did a lot for him, Ayla. Even if Clan women are different, shouldn’t that count for something? Couldn’t he at least acknowledge it?”
“Guban expressed his gratitude to me, Jondalar, but it was subtle, as it had to be.”
“It must have been subtle. I didn’t see it,” Jondalar said, looking surprised.
“He communicated directly to me, not through you, and he paid attention to my opinions. He allowed his woman to speak to you, which acknowledged me as her equal, and since he has a very high status, so was hers. He thought very highly of you, you know. Paid you a compliment.”
“He did?”
“He thought your tools were well made and he admired your workmanship. If he hadn’t, he would not have accepted the walking sticks, or your token,” Ayla explained.
“What would he have done? I accepted his tooth. I thought it was a strange gift, but I understood his meaning. I would have accepted his token, no matter what it was.”
“If he had felt it was not appropriate, he would have refused it, but that token was more than a gift. He accepted a serious obligation. If he did not respect you, he would not have accepted your spirit piece in exchange for his; he values his too much. He would rather have an emptiness, a hole, than accept a piece of an unworthy spirit.”
“You’re right. There are many subtleties to those Clan people, shades of meaning within shades of meaning. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to sort it all out,” Jondalar said.
“Do you think the