The Mammoth Hunters

  “I’m sure you are,” Tronie said, then looked at her sideways and grinned, “but I think it’s because you’ll be joined by then and living with Branag.”

  A beatific smile transformed Deegie’s face as she thought of her upcoming nuptials. “I won’t deny that, Tronie,” she said.

  “Is it true that the Mammoth Hearth was talking about postponing the Matrimonial because of this ash?” Tronie asked.

  “Yes, and the Womanhood Rites, too, but everyone objected. I know Latie doesn’t want to wait, and I don’t either. They finally agreed. They don’t want any more bad feelings: A lot of people thought they were wrong about Rydag’s funeral,” Deegie said.

  “But some people agreed with them,” Fralie said, approaching with a basketful of ash. She dumped it into the gully. “No matter what they had decided, someone would have thought they were wrong.”

  “I guess you had to live with Rydag to know,” Tronie said.

  “I’m not so sure,” Deegie said. “He lived with us a long time, but I never thought of him as quite human until Ayla came.”

  “I don’t think she’s as anxious for the Matrimonial as you, Deegie,” Tronie said. “I wonder if something is wrong with her. Is she sick?”

  “I don’t think so,” Deegie said. “Why?”

  “She’s not acting right. She’s preparing to be joined, but she doesn’t seem to be looking forward to it. She’s getting a lot of gifts, and everything, but she doesn’t seem happy. She should be like you. Every time someone says join,’ you smile, and get a dreamy look on your face.”

  “Not everyone looks forward to their joining the same way,” Fralie said.

  “She did feel very close to Rydag,” Deegie commented. “And she is grieving, as much as Nezzie. If he had been Mamutoi, the Matrimonial probably would be delayed.”

  “I feel bad about Rydag, too, and I miss him—he was so good with Hartal,” Tronie said. “We all feel bad, though he was in so much pain I was relieved. I think something else is bothering Ayla.”

  She did not add that she had wondered about Ayla joining with Ranec from the beginning. There was no reason to make an issue of it, but in spite of Ranec’s feeling for her, Deegie still thought Ayla felt more for Jondalar, though she seemed to be ignoring him lately. She saw the tall Zelandonii man come out of the tent, and walk toward the center of the Meeting area. He seemed preoccupied.

  Jondalar nodded in response to people who acknowledged him as he passed, but his thoughts were turned inward. Was he imagining it? Or was Ayla really avoiding him? After all the time that he had spent trying to stay out of her way, he still couldn’t quite believe, now that he wanted to talk to her alone, that she was avoiding him. In spite of her Promise to Ranec, some part of him always believed that all he had to do was to stop avoiding her and she would be available to him again. It wasn’t that she had seemed so eager, exactly, but that she seemed open to him. Now, she seemed closed. He had decided the only way to find out was to face her directly, but he was having trouble finding her at a time and place where they could talk.

  He saw Latie coming toward him. He smiled and stopped to watch her. She walked with an independent stride now, smiled confidently at people who nodded greetings. There is a difference, he thought. It always amazed him to see the change that First Rites brought. Latie was no longer a child, or a giggling, nervous girl. Though she was still young, she moved with the assurance of a woman.

  “Hello, Jondalar,” she said, smiling.

  “Hello, Latie. You’re looking happy.” A lovely young woman, he thought to himself as he smiled. His eyes conveyed his feeling. She responded with an indrawn breath and widened eyes, and then a look that answered his unconscious invitation.

  “I am. I was getting so tired of staying in one place all the time. This is the first chance I’ve had to walk around by myself … or with anyone I want.” She swayed a little closer as she looked up at him. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m looking for Ayla. Have you seen her?”

  Latie sighed, then smiled in a friendly way.

  “Yes, she was watching Tricie’s baby for a while. Mamut is looking for her, too.”

  “Don’t blame them all, Ayla,” Mamut said. They were sitting outside in the warm sunshine, in the shade of a big alder bush. “There were several who disagreed. I was one.”

  “I don’t blame you, Mamut. I don’t know if I blame anyone, but why can’t they see? What makes people hate them so much?”

  “Maybe because they can see how much we are alike, so they look for differences.” He paused, then continued, “You should go to the Mammoth Hearth before tomorrow, Ayla. You can’t be joined until you do. You’re the last one, you know.”

  “Yes, I suppose I should,” Ayla said.

  “Your reluctance is giving Vincavec hope. He asked me again today if I thought you were considering his offer. He said, if you didn’t want to break your Promise, he was going to talk to Ranec about accepting him as a co-mate. His offer could increase your Bride Price substantially, and give very high status to all of you. How would you feel about it, Ayla? Would you be willing to accept Vincavec as a co-mate with Ranec?”

  “Vincavec said something about that on the hunt. I’d have to talk to Ranec and see how he feels about it,” Ayla said.

  Mamut thought she showed remarkably little enthusiasm, either way. This was a bad time for a joining, with her grief still so strong but with all the offers and attention, it was hard to counsel waiting. He noticed that she was suddenly distracted, and turned to see what she was watching. Jondalar was coming toward them. She seemed nervous and took a step as though she was in a hurry to go, but she couldn’t just break off her conversation with Mamut so abruptly.

  “There you are, Ayla. I’ve been looking for you. I’d like to talk to you.”

  “I’m busy with Mamut now,” she said.

  “I think we’re through, if you want to talk to Jondalar,” Mamut said.

  Ayla looked down, and then at the old man, avoiding Jondalar’s troubled gaze, then said softly, “I don’t think we have anything to say to each other, Mamut.”

  Jondalar felt his face drain, then a shock of blushing heat. She had been avoiding him! She didn’t even want to talk to him. “Uh … well, uh … I’m … I’m sorry I bothered you,” he said, backing away. Then, wishing he could find a place to hide, he rushed off.

  Mamut observed her closely. After he left, she watched him go, her eyes even more troubled than his. He shook his head, but refrained from speaking as they walked together back to Lion Camp.

  As they neared, Ayla noticed Nezzie and Tulie coming toward them. Rydag’s death had been hard on Nezzie. Just the day before she had brought what was left of his medicine back, and they had both wept. Nezzie didn’t want it around as a sad reminder, but wasn’t sure if she should throw it away. It made Ayla realize that with Rydag gone, the need to help Nezzie treat him was gone, too.

  “We were looking for you, Ayla, ‘ Tulie said. She seemed delighted with herself the way someone would who had been planning a big surprise, and that was rare for the big headwoman. The two women opened out something that was carefully folded. Ayla’s eyes opened wide, and the two women looked at each other and grinned. “Every bride needs a new tunic. Usually it is the man’s mother who makes it, but I wanted to help Nezzie.’

  It was a stunning garment of golden yellow leather, exquisitely and ornately decorated; certain sections of it were solidly filled in with designs in ivory beads, highlighted by many small amber beads.

  “It’s so beautiful, and there’s so much work in it. The beadwork alone must have taken days and days. When did you make it?” Ayla asked.

  “We started it after you announced your Promise, and finished it here,” Nezzie said. “Come in the tent and try it on.”

  Ayla looked at Mamut. He smiled and nodded. He had been aware of the project, and even conspired with them in the surprise. The three women went into the tent, and toward Tulie’s sleeping
section. Ayla undressed, but she wasn’t quite sure how to wear the garment. The women put it on her. It was a specially made tunic that opened down the front, and was tied closed with a finger-woven sash of red mammoth wool.

  “You can wear it closed like this if you just want to wear it to show someone,” Nezzie said, “but for the ceremony, you should open it like this.” She pulled back the top of the front opening and retied the sash. “A woman proudly shows her breasts when she is joined, when she brings her hearth to form a union with a man.”

  The two women stepped back to admire the bride-to-be. She has breasts to be proud of, Nezzie thought. Mother’s breasts, that she can nurse with. Too bad she has no mother here to be with her. She would make any woman proud.

  “Can we come in now?” Deegie said, peeking in the tent. All the women of the Camp came in then to admire Ayla in her finery. It seemed they all were in on the surprise.

  “Close it now, so you can go outside and show the men,” Nezzie said, closing and retying the mating tunic again. “You shouldn’t wear it open in public until the ceremony.”

  Ayla stepped outside the tent to the smiling approval and pleasure of the men of the Lion Camp. Others, who were not of the Lion Camp, were watching her as well. Vincavec had known of the surprise, and made a point of being close by. When he saw her, he resolved that in some way he was going to join with her, if he had to co-mate with ten men.

  Another man who was not of the Lion Camp, though most people thought of him in that way, was watching, too. Jondalar had followed them back, not quite willing to accept her rebuff, or even believe it. Danug told him, and he waited with the others. When she first stepped out, he filled his eyes with the sight of her, then he closed them and his forehead furrowed with pain. He had lost her. She was showing her intention to join with Ranec the next day. He took a deep breath and clamped his teeth together. He could not stay to see her joined with the dark-skinned carver of the Lion Camp. It was time for him to leave.

  After Ayla changed back into her regular clothing and left again with Mamut, Jondalar hurried into the tent. He was glad to find it empty. He packed his traveling gear, thanking Tulie again in his mind, laid out everything he would take, and then covered it with a sleeping fur. He planned to wait until morning, say goodbye to everyone, and leave immediately after breakfast. He wouldn’t tell anyone until then.

  During the day Jondalar visited with special friends he had made at the Meeting, not saying goodbye, but thinking it. In the evening he spent time with each member of the Lion Camp. They were like family. It was going to be hard leaving, knowing he would never see them again. It was even harder finding a way to talk to Ayla, at least once more. He watched her, and when she and Latie went out to the horse lean-to, he quickly followed them.

  The words of their conversation were superficial and uncomfortable, but there was an intensity about him that filled Ayla with an uneasy tension. When she went back in, he stayed and brushed the young stallion until it got dark. The first time he saw Ayla, she was helping Whinney give birth, he remembered. He’d never seen anything like that before. It was going to be hard leaving him, too. Jondalar felt more for Racer than he ever thought it was possible to feel for an animal.

  Finally he went in the tent, and crawled into his bed. He closed his eyes, but sleep would not come. He lay awake and thought of Ayla, of their time in the valley and their love that grew slowly. No, not so slowly. He loved her from the beginning, he had just been slow to recognize it, slow to appreciate it, so slow he lost it. He threw away her love, and he would pay for the rest of his life. How could he have been so stupid? He would never forget her, or the pain of losing her, and he would never forgive himself.

  It was a long, difficult night, and when the first light of dawn barely glimmered through the tent opening, he could stand it no longer. He couldn’t say goodbye, to her or anyone, he just had to leave. Quietly, he gathered up his travel clothing, packs, and sleeping roll, and slipped outside.

  “You decided not to wait. I thought as much,” Mamut said.

  Jondalar spun around. “I … ah … I have to go. I can’t stay any longer. It’s time I … ah,” he stammered.

  “I know, Jondalar. I wish you good Journey. You have a long way to go. You must decide for yourself what is best, but remember this, a choice cannot be made if there is none to make.” The old man ducked into the tent.

  Jondalar frowned, and he walked toward the horse lean-to. What did Mamut mean? Why did Those Who Served the Mother always speak words that could not be understood?

  When he saw Racer, Jondalar had a fleeting impulse to ride away on him, at least take away that much, but Racer was Ayla’s horse. He patted both of them, gave the brown stallion a hug around the neck, and then noticed Wolf, and gave him an affectionate rub. Then he quickly got up and started walking down the path.

  When Ayla woke up the sun was streaming in. It looked like a perfect day. Then she remembered this was the day of the Matrimonial celebration. The day didn’t seem so perfect any more. She sat up and looked around. Something was wrong. It had always been her habit to glance over in Jondalar’s direction when she first woke up. He wasn’t there. Jondalar is up early this morning, she thought. She couldn’t get over the feeling that something was very wrong.

  She got up, dressed, and went outside to wash and find a twig for her teeth. Nezzie was beside the fire, looking at her, strangely. The feeling that something wasn’t right grew distinctly stronger. She glanced toward the horse lean-to. Whinney and Racer seemed fine, and there was Wolf. She went back in the tent and looked around again. Many people were up and gone for the day. Then she noticed that Jondalar’s place was empty. He wasn’t just gone for the day. His sleeping roll and traveling packs, everything was missing. Jondalar was gone!

  Ayla ran out in a panic. “Nezzie! Jondalar is gone! He’s not just at Wolf Camp someplace, he’s gone. And he left me behind!”

  “I know, Ayla. I’ve been expecting it, haven’t you?”

  “But he didn’t even say goodbye! I thought he was going to stay until the Matrimonial.”

  “That’s the last thing he ever wanted to do, Ayla. He never wanted to see you join with someone else.”

  “But … but … Nezzie, he didn’t want me. What else could I do?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I want to go with him! But he’s gone. How could he leave me? He was going to take me with him. That’s what we planned. What happened to everything we had planned, Nezzie?” she said, in a sudden burst of tears. Nezzie held out her arms, and comforted the sobbing young woman.

  “Plans change, Ayla. Lives change. What about Ranec?”

  “I’m not the right one for him. He should join with Tricie. She’s the one who loves him,” Ayla said.

  “Don you love him? He loves you.”

  “I wanted to love him, Nezzie. I tried to love him, but I love Jondalar. Now Jondalar is gone.” Ayla sobbed anew. “He doesn’t love me.”

  “Are you so sure?” Nezzie asked.

  “He left me, and he didn’t even say goodbye. Nezzie, why did he leave without me? What did I do wrong?” Ayla pleaded.

  “Do you think you did something wrong?”

  Ayla stopped and frowned. “He wanted to talk to me yesterday, and I wouldn’t talk to him.”

  “Why wouldn’t you talk to him?”

  “Because … because he didn’t want me. All last winter, when I loved him so much, and wanted to be with him, he didn’t want me. He wouldn’t even talk to me.”

  “So when he did want to talk to you, you wouldn’t talk to him. It happens that way sometimes,” Nezzie said.

  “But I do want to talk to him, Nezzie. I want to be with him. Even if he doesn’t love me, I want to be with him. But now he’s gone. He just got up and walked away. He can’t be gone! He can’t be gone … far …”

  Nezzie looked at her and almost smiled.

  “How far could he be, Nezzie? Walking? I can walk fast, maybe I
can catch up with him. Maybe I should go after him and see what he wanted to talk to me about. Oh, Nezzie, I should be with him. I love him.”

  “Then, go after him, child. If you want him, if you love him, go after him. Tell him how you feel. At least give him the chance to tell you what he wanted to say.”

  “You’re right!” Ayla wiped away tears with the back of her hand and tried to think. “That’s what I should do. I’m going to do it. Right now!” she said, and started running down the path, even before Nezzie could say another word. She raced across the stepping-stones of the river, and into the field. Then she stopped. She didn’t know which way to go, she’d have to track him, and it would take forever to catch up with him this way.

  Suddenly, Nezzie heard two piercing whistles. She smiled as the wolf zipped past her, and Whinney perked her ears and followed him. Racer trailed after. She watched down the slope as the wolf loped toward the young woman.

  When he got closer, Ayla signaled, and spoke. “Find Jondalar, Wolf. Find Jondalar!”

  The wolf started sniffing the ground and the air currents, and when he started off, Ayla noticed the slight traces of trampled grass and broken twigs. She leaped on Whinney’s back, and followed.

  It was only after she started riding that the questions came to her. What am I going to say to him? How can I tell him that he promised to take me with him? What if he won’t listen? What if he doesn’t want me?

  Rain had washed the coating of volcanic ash from trees and leaves, but Jondalar strode through the meadows and woodlands of the floodplain oblivious to the beauty of a rare summer day. He didn’t quite know where he was going, he just followed the river, but with each step that took him farther away, his thoughts weighed heavier.

  Why am I leaving without her? Why am I traveling alone? Maybe I should go back, ask her to come with me? But she doesn’t want to come with you. She’s a Mamutoi. These are her people. She chose Ranec, not you, Jondalar, he said to himself. Yes, she chose Ranec, but did you give her any choice? Then he stopped. What was it Mamut said? Something about choice? “A choice cannot be made if there is none to make.” What did he mean?