The Shelters of Stone (83 page)

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Authors: Jean M. Auel

Tags: #Historical fiction

BOOK: The Shelters of Stone
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Ayla walked around the room next to the wall, very carefully The floor was muddy and uneven, and slippery. At the bottom of the U, where it curved around there was a narrow entrance to another gallery. She held the torch up and looked inside. The upper walls were white and curved, but the lower area was a narrow twisting corridor and she decided not to enter. She continued around, and to the right of the entrance to the gallery at the back there was another passageway, but she only looked inside. She had already decided that she would have to tell Jondalar and some others and bring them back to this cave.

Ayla had seen many caves, most filled with beautiful stone icicles suspended from ceilings or stalactite draperies hanging down the walls and corresponding deposits of stalagmites growing to meet them from the floors, but she had never seen a cave like this. Although it was a limestone cave, a layer of impermeable marl had formed that blocked the calcium carbonate-saturated drops of water and kept them from seeping through to form stalactites and stalagmites. Instead the walls were covered with calcite crystals, which grow very little, leaving large panels of white covering the bumps and dips of the natural relief of the stone. It was a rare and beautiful place, the most beautiful cave she had ever seen.

She noticed the light of her torch dimming. It was building up an accumulation of charcoal near the end, stifling the flame. In most caves she would have simply knocked it against any wall to dislodge the burned wood and refresh the fire, but that usually left a black mark. In this place she felt
constrained to be careful; she couldn’t just knock off the charcoal and mar the unblemished white walls. She chose a place in the darker stone area, lower down. Some of the charcoal dropped on the ground when she rapped the torch against the stone, and she had a momentary urge to clean it up. There was a sacred quality to this place; it felt spiritual, otherworldly, and she didn’t want to desecrate it in any way.

Then she shook her head. It’s only a cave, she thought, even if it is special. A little charcoal on the ground won’t hurt it. Besides, she noticed that the wolf didn’t hesitate to mark the place. He had lifted his leg every few feet, proclaiming with his scent that this was his territory. But his scent marks didn’t reach the white walls.

Ayla walked back to the camp of the Ninth Cave as quickly as she could, excited to tell people about the cave. It was only when she arrived, and noticed several people were hauling away dirt from a pit oven that had just been dug and several others were preparing food to go into it, that she remembered she had invited some people over the following morning. She had planned to forage for food to cook, to find an animal to hunt or some edible plant food, and in her excitement over the cave she had forgotten all about it. She noticed that Marthona, Folara, and Proleva had taken out an entire haunch of a bison from the cold storage pit.

The first day they arrived, most of the Ninth Cave had worked to dig the large pit all the way down to the level of the permafrost to preserve the part of the meat, which they had hunted before they left, that had not been dried. The land of the Zelandonii was close enough to the northern glacier for permafrost conditions to prevail, but that did not mean the ground was permanently frozen year-round. In winter the soil became as hard as ice, frozen solid all the way to the surface, but in summer a layer on top thawed to varying depths from a few inches to several feet depending on the surface cover and the amount of sun or shade it received. Storing meat in a hole that was dug down to the frost kept it fresh longer, though most people didn’t mind if meat aged a little,
and some people preferred the flavor of meat that was quite high.

“Marthona, I’m sorry,” Ayla said when she reached the main hearth. “I went to find more food for tomorrow’s morning meal, but I found a cave nearby and forgot all about it. It is the most beautiful cave I’ve ever seen, and I wanted to show it to you, and everyone.”

“I never heard of any caves nearby,” Folara said. “Certainly not any beautiful ones. How far is it?”

“It’s just down the other side of that slope at the back of the main camp,” Ayla explained.

“That’s where we go to gather blackberries in late summer,” Proleva said. “There is no cave there.” Several other people had heard Ayla and had gathered around, Jondalar and Joharran among them.

“She’s right,” Joharran said. “I never heard of a cave there.”

“It was hidden by the canebrake, and a big pile of rubble in front of it,” Ayla said. “Wolf actually found it. He was sniffing around under the brambles and disappeared. When I whistled for him, it took him a long time to get back, so I wondered where he went. I hacked my way through and found a cave.”

“It can’t be very big, can it?” jondalar asked.

“It’s inside that hill, and it’s a big cave, Jondalar, and very unusual.”

“Can you show us?” he said.

“Of course. That’s what I came here to do, but now I think I should help prepare the food for the meal tomorrow morning,” Ayla said.

“We’ve just lit the fire in the pit oven,” Proleva said, “and piled a lot of wood in it. It’ll take a while for it to bum down and heat the rocks that line it. We were just going to put the food up on the high rack until we were ready for it, so there’s no reason we can’t go now.”

“I invite people here to share a meal, and everyone else has done all the work. I should at least have helped dig the
roasting pit,” Ayla said, feeling embarrassed. It seemed to her that she had shirked the hard work.

“Don’t worry about it, Ayla. We were going to dig one anyway,” Proleva said. “And a lot of people were still here. Most of them have gone to the main camp now, but it’s always easier when everybody does it together. This just gave us a reason.”

“Let’s go see your cave,” Jondalar said.

“You know, if we all go there together, the whole camp will follow us,” Willamar said.

“We could all go up separately, and meet at the spring,” Rushemar said. He was one who had helped dig the roasting pit and was waiting for Salova to finish feeding Marsola before going to the main camp. Salova, who was nearby, smiled at him. Her mate was not one to say much, but when he did, it usually showed his intelligence, she thought. She looked around for Marsola, who was sitting on the ground nearby. She’d have to get the baby’s carrying cloak if they were going to go hiking around, but it did sound exciting.

“That’s a good idea, Rushemar, but I think I have a better one,” Jondalar said. “We can get to the back of that slope by going up our little creek and around the back. That scree slope behind the pond is not very far from there. I climbed to the top of it, looking to see if there was any flint in that pile of rocks, and got a good look at the lay of the land.”

“That’s perfect! Let’s go,” Folara said.

“I would like to show it to Zelandoni and Jonokol, too,” Ayla said.

“And since this is their territory, I think it would be appropriate to ask Tormaden, the leader of the Nineteenth Cave, to join us,” Marthona added.

“You’re right, of course, mother. By all rights, they should explore it first,” Joharran said. “But since they never found it in all the time they’ve lived here, I think we can make it a joint adventure. I’ll go ask Tormaden to come with us.” The leader smiled. “But I won’t tell him why. FU just tell him Ayla found something and wants to show it to us.”

“Why don’t I come with you, Joharran, and stop by the
zelandonia lodge and ask Zelandoni and Jonokol to join us,” Ayla said.

“How many want to go?” Joharran asked. Everyone who was there indicated their interest, but since most of the two hundred or so people who belonged to the Ninth Cave were in the main camp area, it wasn’t as huge a crowd as it might have been. Using the counting words, he estimated about twenty-five people and thought a group that size ought to be manageable, especially since they would be going another way “All right, I’ll go with Ayla to the main camp. Jondalar, you take everyone else the back way, and we will meet you on the down slope behind the spring.”

“And take something to cut through those thorny stems, Jondalar, and some torches and your fire kit,” Ayla said. “I only went into the first big room, but I noticed a couple of passageways leading off from it.”

Zelandoni and several of the zelandonia, including some new acolytes, were in the middle of preparing for the meeting with the women who were about to be mated; The One Who Was First was always busy at Summer Meetings. But when Ayla asked to speak to her privately, she sensed from the young woman’s demeanor that it could be important. Ayla told her about the cave and mentioned that several people from the Ninth Cave were going to be meeting behind the spring as soon as they could get there to go to see it. When the woman hesitated, Ayla insisted that Jonokol had to come, if no one else. That piqued the curiosity of the First, and she decided that perhaps she should go after all.

“Zelandoni of the Fourteenth, will you take charge of this gathering?” the First Donier said to the one who had always wanted to be First. “I have to attend to a Ninth Cave matter.”

“Of course,” the older woman said. She was curious—they all were—about what could be so important that the First would leave in the middle of a significant meeting, but she was also pleased that she had been called upon to fill in for her. Perhaps the First was beginning to appreciate her.

“Jonokol, come with me,” Zelandoni of the Ninth said to her First Acolyte. That created even more curiosity, but no
one would dream of asking, not even Jonokol, though he was glad that he might find out.

Joharran had a little trouble finding Tormaden, and then convincing him to drop everything and come, especially since the leader of the Ninth wouldn’t tell him what it was about.

“Ayla found something that we think you should know about, since it’s your territory,” Joharran told him. “Several people from the Ninth Cave are already aware of it—they were there when she told me about it—but I think you should know before the whole Summer Meeting does. You know how fast word can get out.”

“You really think it’s that important?” Tormaden said.

“I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t,” Joharran said.

Going to see the cave Ayla found had become a Ninth Cave adventure, and some people wanted to bring food or gathering baskets as well as torches and make an outing of it. Most of them felt lucky that they had still been at their camp when Ayla came and told them about it, and were therefore able to get a first look at a new cave, one that the interesting woman that Jondalar had brought home with him claimed was so beautiful. They assumed the beauty would be in the stalactitic formations, that it would be another cave like the one named Pretty Hollow that was near the Ninth Cave.

It was some time later when they all finally met. Joharran and Tormaden were the last to arrive, but the ones who came first, the group from the Ninth Cave, waited behind the crest down the slope a ways. A crowd of people standing at the top of the ridge would have been noticed from the main camp, and they didn’t want to be conspicuous. A little secrecy added to the excitement, but every so often someone would go up to the spring and, staying behind trees, check to see if Ayla and the two zelandonia were coming, or Joharran and the Nineteenth Cave’s leader.

After short courtesy greetings were exchanged—Ayla had formally met Tormaden and the Nineteenth Cave soon after they arrived—she and Wolf started traversing down the
trail through the hillside of blackberry vines full of ripening berries, leading the rest, with the wolf at her heel. She had signaled the animal to stay close, and he seemed to prefer it. With so many people, Wolf was feeling protective of her, and she didn’t want the large carnivore to alarm anyone, although most of the Ninth Cave were getting quite used to him. They loved the reaction he caused in the rest of the people at the Meeting, and the inevitable attention they received because of him.

At the bottom, she turned toward the dry streambed. When they arrived, they first saw the remains of her fire, but soon noticed the hole cut through the thick, woody, running vines. Rushemar, Solaban, and Tormaden immediately set to work enlarging the hole, while Jondalar quickly started a fire. They were all getting more curious about the cave, Jondalar in particular. Once they got a few torches lit, they all tromped toward the dark hole that had been cut through the greenery.

Tormaden was very surprised. He could see it was a cave, but he’d had no idea it was there. They only used the back hillside when the berries were ripe. It was a huge wild berry patch that covered the entire hill and had been there as long as anyone knew. Just picking from the path, which was renewed every year, and from around the edges provided more fruit than all of them could pick, even during a Summer Meeting. No one had bothered to hack their way in very far, or to cut through and find a cave.

“What made you decide to cut through the brambles here, Ayla?” Tormaden asked as they started into the dark hole.

“Wolf did,” she said, looking down at him. “He is the one who found it. I was out looking for something for a morning meal tomorrow, perhaps a hare or a grouse. Wolf often helps me hunt, he has a good nose. He disappeared behind this pile of rubble and under the vines and was a long time coming out. I wondered what was there. I cut through and discovered it was a cave, then came out and Ut a torch and went back in.”

“I thought there had to be a reason,” he said, aware of
both her unusual way of speaking and her. She was a beautiful woman, especially when she smiled.

With Ayla and the wolf in the lead, and Tormaden behind her, each holding a torch, they started into the opening one at a time. Zelandoni and Jonokol were behind him, followed by Joharran, Marthona, and Jondalar. Ayla realized that the people had intuitively ranked themselves in the order that they used for very special or formal occasions, like a funeral, except that she had ended up in front, which made her a bit uneasy. She didn’t think she deserved to be first in such a line.

She waited until everyone was in the cave. The last one in was Lanoga carrying Lorala, daughters of Laramar’s mate, Tremeda, the family that was always last. She smiled at them and received a shy smile in return from Lanoga. Ayla was glad she had decided to come. Lorala was getting the rounded look that a baby her age should have, and becoming more of a handful for her surrogate mother, but Lanoga seemed very pleased about it. She had taken to sitting with the young mothers of the Cave and, hearing them brag about their babies, had begun to talk a little about Lorala’s accomplishments.

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