The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [177]
“But it wasn’t a special mark?” Joharran said.
“It was special to me. I still have the scar,” she said, showing the mark on her arm. Then she added a thought that occurred to her: “It’s interesting how people use different ways of showing who they are, and who they belong to. When I was adopted by the Clan, I was given my amulet bag with a piece of red ochre in it, and when they name a person, the mog-ur makes a line in red from the forehead to the end of the nose. That’s when he tells everyone, especially the mother, what the baby’s totem is, by making the totem mark with salve on the infant.”
“Are you saying your people of the Clan have marks showing who they are?” Zelandoni said. “Like abelans?”
“I guess they are like abelans. When a boy becomes a man, the mog-ur cuts the mark of his totem on him, then rubs in a special ash to make it a tattoo. Girls are not usually cut on the skin, because when they grow up, they will bleed from the inside, but I was marked by the cave lion when he chose me. I have four marks from his claws on my leg. That’s the Clan mark for a cave lion, and that’s how Mog-ur knew he was my totem, even though it’s not usually a female totem mark. It is a man’s, given to a boy who is destined to be a strong hunter. When I was accepted as the Woman Who Hunts, Mog-ur made a cut here,” she put her finger on her throat, just above the breastbone, “to draw blood and used it to mark over the scars on my leg.” She showed the scars on her left thigh.
“Then you already have an abelan. That’s your mark, those four lines,” Willamar said.
“I think you are right,” Ayla said. “I don’t feel anything about the other mark, maybe because it’s just a mark of convenience, so that people will know who to give some hides to. Even though my Clan totem mark is not a Zelandonii sign, it is a mark that is special to me. It meant that I was adopted, that I belonged. I would like to use it as my abelan.”
Jondalar thought about what Ayla said about belonging. She had lost everything, she didn’t know to whom she was born, or who her people were. Then she had lost the people who raised her. She had referred to herself as “Ayla of No People” when she’d met the Mamutoi. It made him realize how important belonging was to her.
17
There was an insistent tap on the panel beside the entrance drape. It woke Jondalar, but he lay in his sleeping roll, wondering why someone wasn’t answering it. Then he realized that no one but him seemed to be home. He got up and called out, “Be there in a moment,” while he was putting on a few clothes. He was surprised to see Jonokol, the artist who was Zelandoni’s acolyte, only because the young man seldom paid a visit without his mentor. “Come in,” he said.
“The Zelandoni of the Ninth Cave says it is time,” Jonokol said.
Jondalar’s brow creased. He didn’t like the sound of that. He wasn’t entirely sure he understood what Jonokol meant, but he had a good idea, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. He’d had his share of the other world. He didn’t really want to have to deal with that place again.
“Did Zelandoni say what it was time for?” Jondalar asked.
Jonokol smiled at the tall man’s sudden nervousness. “She said you would know.”
“I’m afraid I do,” Jondalar said, resigning himself to the inevitable. “Can you wait until I find something to eat, Jonokol?”
“Zelandoni always says it’s best if you don’t.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Jondalar said. “But I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea to wash my mouth out with. I’m still tasting sleep.”
“They may have some tea for you to drink,” Jonokol said.
“I’ll bet they do, but I don’t think it’s mint, and that’s what I like first thing in the morning.”
“Zelandoni’s teas are often flavored with mint.”
“Flavored, yes, but it’s probably not the main ingredient.”
Jonokol just smiled.
“All right,” Jondalar said with a wry grin. “I’ll come right away. I hope no one minds if I go to pass water first.”
“It’s not necessary to hold your water,” the young acolyte said, “but bring something warm to wear.”
When Jondalar came back, he was both surprised