The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [256]
“Not at this time. I haven’t yet asked her if she wants to further her training,” the First said.
Ayla felt a touch of consternation. Though she would not mind talking about healing with some of them, she had no desire to become a Zelandoni. She just wanted to mate with Jondalar and have children, and she noticed that few of the zelandonia had mates or children. It wasn’t that they couldn’t mate if they chose, but it seemed that there were so many other demands on their time and attention when they were in the service of the Great Earth Mother that they didn’t have time to be mothers themselves.
“Then why is she here?” the Fourteenth asked. Her wispy gray hair had pulled loose from the small bun on the back of her head, more on one side than the other, giving her a careless, disheveled appearance. If someone were kind, they would tactfully suggest that she fix her hair before she went out, but the First wouldn’t dream of it. The contentious Zelandoni would take anything she said as criticism.
“I asked her to come because I would like her to show you something that I think you will find very interesting.”
“Is it about those animals she controls?” asked another donier.
The First smiled. At least someone was willing to admit that Ayla had some unusual skills that might be worthy of the zelandonia. “No, Zelandoni of the South Holding of the Twenty-ninth Cave. That might be cause for another meeting, but this time, she has something else for you to see.” Though the South Holding Twenty-ninth was an assistant to the primary Zelandoni of the Twenty-ninth, it was only in terms of speaking for all of Three Rocks. He was a full-fledged Zelandoni in his own right, and the First knew him to be a good healer. He had the same right to speak out as any other donier.
Ayla noticed that the One Who Was First addressed the members of the zelandonia by their full tides, which were sometimes quite long, since they included the counting words of their Caves, but sounded very formal and important. Then it occurred to her that the only way to differentiate among them was by the counting words. They had given up their personal names and were all “Zelandoni.” They had, she realized, exchanged their names for counting words.
When she lived in her valley, she had scratched a mark on a stick every day she was there. By the time Jondalar arrived, she had a bundle of sticks full of marks. When he used the counting words to tally the cut marks and was then able to tell her how long she had lived in her valley, it had seemed to her magic that was so powerful, it was almost frightening. When he taught them to her, she had sensed that counting words were very important and highly valued by the Zelandonii. Now she realized that, at least among Those Who Served The Mother, they were more important than names, and their use by the zelandonia gave them the essence of those powerful symbols.
The First beckoned to Jonokol. “First Acolyte of the Ninth Cave, will you use the sand I asked you to get and put out the fire? And First Acolyte of the Second Cave, will you put out all the lamps?”
Ayla recognized the two acolytes the First had called upon for assistance. They had guided her when she visited the deep cave with the animals painted on the walls at Fountain Rocks. She heard comments and questions of curiosity from the assembled group who knew the First was setting them up for something dramatic. Most of the older, experienced ones were preparing themselves to be critical. They knew and understood the techniques and impact of dramatic presentations and were determined not to be easily deluded by tricks or misdirection.
When all the fires had been put out, there was still enough light to see from the occasional beams of sunlight that filtered in here and there. The lodge was not completely dark. Ayla looked around and noticed light seeping in, particularly around the outline of the entrance, though it was closed, and