Ayla’s mind was racing, overwhelmed with the idea of counting. Creb, the greatest Mog-ur of the Clan, could, with great effort, count to twenty. She could count to twenty-five and represent it with just two hands in a way that others could understand it, and then increase that number. You could tell someone how many red deer had congregated at their spring calving grounds, how many young were born; a small number like five, a small group, twenty-five, or many more than that. It would be harder to count a large herd, but it could all be communicated. How much meat should be stored to last how many people through the winter? How many strings of dried roots? How many baskets of nuts. How many days will it take to reach the Summer Meeting place? How many people will be there? The possibilities were incredible. Counting words had tremendous significance, both real and symbolic.
The One Who Was First was talking again, and Ayla had to wrench her mind away from her contemplations. She was holding up one hand. “The number of fingers on one hand, five, is an important counting word in its own right. It represents the number of fingers on each hand, and the toes on each foot, of course, but that is only its superficial meaning. Five is also the Mother’s sacred counting word. Our hands and feet only remind us of that. Another thing that reminds us of that is the apple.” She produced a small, unripe hard apple and held it up. “If you hold an apple on its side and cut it in half, as if you were cutting through the stem within the fruit,” she demonstrated as she spoke, “you will see that the pattern of the seeds divides the apple into five sections. That is why the apple is the Mother’s sacred fruit.”
She passed out both sections to be examined by the acolytes, giving the top half to Ayla. “There are other important aspects of the counting-word five. As you will learn, you can see five stars in the sky that move in a random pattern each year, and there are five seasons of the year: spring, summer, autumn, and the two cold periods, early winter and late winter. Most people think the year starts with spring when new green starts growing, but the zelandonia know that the beginning of the year is marked by the Winter Shortday, which is what divides early winter from late winter. The true year begins with late winter, then spring, summer, autumn, and early winter.”
“The Mamutoi count five seasons, too,” Ayla volunteered. “Actually three major seasons: spring, summer and winter, and two minor seasons: fall and midwinter. Perhaps it should be called late winter.” Some of the others were rather surprised that she would interject a comment when the First was explaining a basic concept, but the First smiled inwardly, pleased to see her getting involved. “They consider three to be a primary counting word because it represents woman, like the three-sided triangle with the point facing down represents woman, and the Great Mother. When they add the two others, fall and midwinter, seasons that mean changes are coming, it makes five. Mamut said five was Her counting word of hidden authority.”
“That’s very interesting, Ayla. We say five is Her sacred counting word. We also consider three to be an important concept, for similar reasons. I’d like to hear more about the people you call the Mamutoi, and their customs. Perhaps the next time the zelandonia meet,” the First said.
Ayla was listening with fascination. The First had a voice that captured attention, demanded it, when she chose to focus it, but it wasn’t only the voice. The knowledge and information she was imparting were stimulating and absorbing. Ayla wanted to know more.
“There are also five sacred colors and five sacred elements but it’s getting late and we’ll get into that next time,” said the One Who Was First Among Those Who Served The Great Earth Mother.
Ayla felt disappointed. She could have listened all night, but then she looked up and saw Folara coming with Jonayla. Her baby was awake.
4
Anticipation for the Summer Meeting intensified after the Ninth Cave returned from visiting the Seventh and Second Caves. Everyone’s time and attention was occupied with the hectic rush of getting ready to leave, and the excitement was palpable. Each family was busy with its own preparations, but the various leaders had the additional duty of planning and organizing for their entire Cave. That they were willing to assume the responsibility and able to carry it out was why they were leaders.
The leaders of all the Zelandonii Caves were anxious before a Summer Meeting, but Joharran was especially so. While most Caves tended to have some twenty-five to fifty people, some as much as seventy or eighty, usually related, his Cave was an exception. Nearly two hundred individuals belonged to the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii.
It was a challenge to lead so many people, but Joharran was up to the task. Not only had Joharran’s mother, Marthona, been a leader of the Ninth Cave, but Joconan, the first man to whom she was mated and to whose hearth Joharran had been born, was the leader before her. Joharran’s brother, Jondalar, who was born to the hearth of Dalanar, the man Marthona mated after Joconan died, had specialized in a craft in which he showed both skill and inclination. Like Dalanar, he was recognized as an expert flint-knapper because it was what he did best. But Joharran grew up immersed in the ways of leadership and had a natural propensity to take on those responsibilities. It was what he did best.
The Zelandonii had no formal process for selecting leaders, but as people lived together, they learned who the best person was to help them to resolve a conflict or sort out a problem. And they tended to follow the ones who took on the organization of an activity and did it well.
If several people decided to go hunting, for example, it wasn’t necessarily the best hunter they chose to follow, but the one who could direct the group in a way that made the hunt most successful for everyone. Often, though not always, the best problem solver was also the best organizer. Sometimes two or three people, who were known for their specific areas of expertise, worked together. After a while, the one who dealt with conflicts and managed activities most effectively was acknowledged as the leader, not in any kind of structured way, but by unspoken consent.
Those who obtained leadership positions gained status, but such leaders governed by persuasion and influence; they had no coercive power. There were no specific rules or laws requiring compliance, or means of enforcing them, which made leadership more difficult, but peer pressure to acknowledge and accept suggestions by the head of the Cave was strong. The spiritual leaders, the zelandonia, had even less authority to compel, but perhaps more power to persuade; they were greatly respected and a little feared. Their knowledge of the unknown and their familiarity with the terrifying world of the spirits, which was an important element in the lives of the community, commanded respect.
Ayla’s excitement about the upcoming Summer Meeting increased as the time to leave approached. She hadn’t noticed it as much the previous year, but they had arrived at Jondalar’s home not long before the annual gathering of the Zelandonii after traveling for a year, and she had felt excitement and tension enough just meeting his people and getting accustomed to their ways. This year she had been aware of her mounting enthusiasm since the beginning of spring, and as the days passed, she was as rushed and eager as everyone. It was a lot of work to get ready for the summer, especially knowing that they would be traveling around, not staying at any single place for the whole season.
The Summer Meeting was where people gathered together after the long cold season to reaffirm their ties, to find mates, and to exchange goods and news. The location became a sort of base camp from which individuals and smaller groups would be going on hunting expeditions and gathering excursions, exploring their land to see what had changed, and visiting additional Caves to see other friends and kin, and some more distant neighbors. Summer was the itinerant season; the Zelandonii were essentially sedentary only in winter.
Ayla had finished changing and nursing Jonayla and had put her down to sleep. Wolf had gone out earlier, probably to hunt or explore. She had just spread out their traveling sleeping roll to see what repairs it might need when she heard a tapping on the post beside the drape that closed the entrance to their dw
elling. Her home was located near the back of the protected space, but closer to the southwestern, downriver end of the living area, since it was one of the newer constructions. She got up and pulled aside the drape and was pleased to see the One Who Was First standing there.
“How nice to see you, Zelandoni,” she said, smiling. “Come in.”
After the woman entered, Ayla caught a sense of movement outside and glanced up at another construction that she and Jondalar had made somewhat farther on across the vacant space as a place for the horses to shelter when the weather was especially disagreeable. She noticed that Whinney and Gray had just come up from the grassy edge of The River.
“I was going to make some tea for myself—can I make some for you?”
“Thank you, yes,” the large woman said as she headed for a block of limestone with a large cushion on top that had been brought inside especially for her to use as a seat. It was sturdy and comfortable.
Ayla busied herself placing some cooking stones on the hot coals she had stirred up in the fireplace, and adding more wood. Then she poured water from the waterbag—the cleaned stomach of an aurochs bulging with fullness—into a tightly woven basket, and added some broken pieces of bone to protect the cooking basket from the sizzling-hot cooking stones.
“Is there a particular tea you’d like?” she asked.
“It doesn’t matter. You choose—something calming would be nice,” Zelandoni replied.
The padded rock had appeared in their dwelling shortly after they returned from the Summer Meeting the year before. The First had not asked for it, and she wasn’t sure whether it was Ayla’s idea or Jondalar’s, but she knew it was meant for her and she appreciated it. Zelandoni had two stone seats of her own, one in her dwelling and one near the back of the exterior common work area. In addition, Joharran and Proleva provided her a solid place to sit comfortably in their dwelling. Though she could still get down on the floor if it was necessary, as time went on and she continued to grow fatter, she was finding it harder to get up. She assumed that since she was chosen to be First by the Great Earth Mother, She had a reason for making her look more like Her every year. Not every Zelandoni who had become First was fat, but she knew most people liked seeing her that way. Her size seemed to lend presence and authority. A little less mobility was a small price to pay.
With wooden tongs Ayla picked up a hot stone. The tongs were made from a thin piece of wood from just under the bark of a living tree, peeled in a long strip, the top and bottom cut, then bent around with steam. Fresh wood kept its springiness longer, but to keep the tree from dying, it was best if taken from only one side. She tapped the cooking stone against one of the rocks that circled the firepit to shake off the ashes, then dropped it into the water amid a cloud of steam. A second hot stone brought the water to the boil, though it settled down quickly. The pieces of bone kept the hot rocks from scorching the bottom of the basket, giving the fiber cooking pot a longer life.
Ayla looked through her supply of dried and drying herbs. Chamomile was always calming, but it was so commonplace, she wanted something more. She noticed a plant she had picked recently and smiled to herself. The lemon balm wasn’t entirely dry yet, but she decided it didn’t matter. It was entirely usable for tea. A little added to the chamomile along with some linden for a bit of sweetening would make a nice calming infusion. She put the chamomile leaves, the lemon balm, and linden into the water and let it steep a while, then poured two cups and brought one to the Donier.
The woman blew on it a bit then, sipped it carefully, and cocked her head, trying to identify the taste. “Chamomile, of course, but … let me think. Is it lemon balm, with perhaps some linden flowers?” she asked.
Ayla smiled. It was exactly what she did when she was given something unknown; she tried to identify it. And of course Zelandoni had known the ingredients. “Yes,” Ayla said. “I had dried chamomile and linden flowers, but I just found the lemon balm a few days ago. I’m glad it grows nearby.”
“Perhaps you could collect some lemon balm for me the next time you get some for yourself. It could be useful to take to the Summer Meeting.”
“I’d be happy to. I could even get it today. I know exactly where it grows. On the plateau above, near the Falling Stone,” she said. Ayla was referring to the unique formation of an ancient columnar section of basalt that had once found its way to the bottom of the primordial sea and was now eroding out of the limestone in a way that made it appear to be falling, though it was still firmly embedded into the upper face of the cliff.
“What do you know about the uses of this?” Zelandoni asked, holding up the cup of tea.
“Chamomile is relaxing and if you take it at night, it can help you to fall asleep. Lemon balm is calming, especially if you feel nervous and stressful. It will even relieve the stomach upset that sometimes comes with stress and it will help you sleep. It has a pleasant taste that is good with chamomile. Linden helps with headaches, especially when you feel tight and tense, and adds a little sweetening.” Ayla thought of Iza, and the way she would test her with similar questions to see how much she remembered of the knowledge Iza was teaching her. She wondered if Zelandoni was also trying to find out how much she knew.
“Yes, this tea could be used as a mild sedative, in sufficient strength.”
“If someone is really excitable, anxious and can’t sleep, and something a little stronger is needed, the liquid from boiled valerian roots is settling,” Ayla said.
“Particularly at night, to bring on sleep, but if the stomach is also upset, then vervain, a tea of the flower stems and leaves, may be better,” the First said.
“I’ve also used vervain for someone recovering from a long illness, but it should not be given to a pregnant woman. It can stimulate labor, and even milk flow.” The two women stopped, looked at each other, and chuckled, then Ayla said, “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to have someone to talk to about medicines and healing. Someone who knows so much.”
“I think you may know as much as I do—in certain ways, more, Ayla, and it is a pleasure to discuss and compare ideas with you. I look forward to many years of such rewarding discussions,” Zelandoni said; then she looked around and motioned toward the sleeping roll spread out on the floor. “It appears you’re getting ready for the trip.”
“I was just checking the sleeping roll to see if it needed mending. It’s been a while since we’ve used it,” Ayla said. “It’s a good one for traveling in all kinds of weather.”
The sleeping roll consisted of several hides sewn together to make a long top and bottom to accommodate Jondalar’s height. They were attached at the foot, and removable thongs were threaded through holes down the sides that could be lashed tightly together or left loose, or even removed if it was especially warm. Thick furs were on the outside of the bottom piece, to create an insulating cushion against the hard and often cold ground. Any of several furs could be used, but it was usually made from an animal killed in cold weather. On this one, Ayla had used the supremely dense, naturally insulating winter fur of reindeer. The top of the sleeping roll was lighter weight; she had used the summer hides of megaceros, which were large and didn’t require as much piecing together. An extra hide or fur could be thrown on top if it cooled down, or if it got really cold, additional furs could be put inside and the sides laced up.
“I think you’ll get some use out of that,” Zelandoni said, recognizing the versatility of the sleeping roll. “I came to talk to you about the Summer Meeting, or rather, about after the early ceremonial part of it. I was going to suggest that you make sure you have adequate traveling equipment and supplies with you. There are some sacred sites in this area you should see. Later, in a few years, I want to show you some of the sacred sites and take you to meet some of the zelandonia that live farther away.”
Ayla smiled. She liked the idea of seeing new places, so long as it wasn’t too far. She’d done enough long-distance traveling. She remembered just seeing Whinney and Gray
, and an idea occurred to her that could make traveling with the First easier. “If we use the horses, we could travel much faster.”
The woman shook her head and took a sip of tea. “There is no way I could get up on the back of a horse, Ayla.”
“You wouldn’t have to. You can ride on the pole-drag behind Whinney. We can make a comfortable seat on it.” She had been thinking of how to convert the travois so that it could be used to carry passengers, especially Zelandoni.
“What makes you think that horse could pull someone my size on that dragging thing?”
“Whinney has pulled much heavier loads than you. She’s a very strong animal. She could take you and your traveling things, and medicines. In fact, I was going to ask if you would like her to carry your medicines along with mine to the Summer Meeting,” Ayla said. “We won’t be taking passengers on the way there. We won’t even be riding ourselves. We’ve promised several people that Whinney and Racer would carry certain things to the Meeting. Joharran wanted us to haul some poles and other building parts for some of the Ninth Cave’s summer dwellings. And Proleva wanted to know if we could take some of her special large cooking baskets, and bowls and serving equipment for feasts and shared community meals. And Jondalar wants to lighten Marthona’s load.”
“It appears that your horses are going to be put to good use,” the First said, taking another sip of her tea, her mind already formulating plans.