“But obviously you did.”
Ayla paused, thinking. “Only women can give birth. But if women get pregnant by a mixing of spirits, why did Doni create men? Just for company, just for Pleasures? I think there has to be some other reason. Women can be company for each other, they can support each other, take care of each other, they can even give each other Pleasures.
“Attaroa of the S’Armunai hated men. She kept them locked up. She would not allow them to share the Gift of Pleasure with women. The women shared their homes with other women. Attaroa thought if she did away with men, the spirits of women would be forced to blend and they would have only girls, but it wasn’t working. Some of the women shared Pleasures, but they could not couple, they could not mix their essences. Very few children were born.”
“But some children were born?” Zelandoni asked.
“Some, but they weren’t all girls—Attaroa crippled two of the boys. Most of the women did not feel the way Attaroa did. Some of them sneaked in to visit their men, some of the women Attaroa used to guard the men helped them. The women with children were the ones who had a man to share their fires the first night the men were free. They were the ones who were mated, or wanted to be. I think the only r
ea
son they had children was because they visited a man. It wasn’t that they shared a hearth and were together long enough for a man to show he was worthy so his spirit would be chosen. They saw their men seldom, and only for a little while, barely long enough to couple. It was dangerous, Attaroa would have had them killed if she found out. I think it was the coupling that made the women pregnant.”
Zelandoni nodded. “Your reasoning is interesting, Ayla. We are taught that it is a mixing of spirits, and that seems to answer most questions about how life begins. But most people don’t question it, they just accept it. Your childhood was different, you are more ready to question, but I would be careful about whom you discuss this idea with. There are
some who would be quite upset. I have wondered sometimes why Doni made men. It is true that women could take care of themselves and each other if they had to. I have even wondered why she made male animals. Mother animals often take care of their young alone, and the males and females don’t spend much time together, only at certain times of the year when they share Pleasures.”
Ayla felt encouraged to press her point. “When I lived with the Mamutoi, there was a man of the Lion Camp. His name was Ranee and he lived with Wymez, the flintknapper.”
“The one Jondalar talks about?”
“Yes. Wymez went on a very long Journey when he was a young man, he could count ten more years before he returned. Wymez traveled south of the Great Sea, around the eastern end of it, and then west again. He mated a woman he met there, and was trying to bring her and her son back to the Mamutoi, but she died on the way. He brought only the son of his mate with him when he returned. He told me his mate had skin almost as black as night, all of her people did. She had Ranee after they were mated and Wymez said he looked different from all the other children because he was so light, but he looked very dark to me. His skin was brown, he was nearly as dark as Racer, and his hair was tight black curls,” Ayla said.
“You think that this man was brown because his mother was almost black, and her mate was light? That could be caused by a mixing of spirits, too,” Zelandoni said.
“It could,” Ayla admitted. “It’s what the Mamutoi believed, but if everyone else there was black except Wymez, wouldn’t there be many more black spirits for his mother’s spirit to mix with? They were mated, they must have shared Pleasures.” She looked at her baby, then at Zelandoni again. “It would have been interesting to see what our children would have looked like if I had joined with Ranee.”
“That’s who you were going to mate?”
Ayla smiled. “He had laughing eyes, and smiling white teeth. He was clever and funny, he made me laugh, and he
was the best carver I have ever seen. He made a special donii for me, and a carving of Whinney. He loved me. He said he wanted to join with me more than anything he ever wanted in his life. He looked like no one I have ever seen, before or since. He was so different, even his features were different. I was fascinated by him. If I hadn’t already loved Jondalar, I could have loved Ranee.”
“If he was all that, I don’t blame you,” Zelandoni said, smiling back. “It’s interesting, there are rumors about some dark-skinned people living with a Cave to the south, beyond the mountains on the shore of the Great Sea. A young man and his mother, it was said. I never really believed it, you never know how much truth there is in such stories, and it seemed so incredible. Now, I’m not so sure.”
“Ranee did resemble Wymez, in spite of the difference in skin color and features. They were the same size, had the same-shaped body, and they walked exactly alike,” Ayla said.
“You don’t have to go that far afield to find resemblances,” Zelandoni said. “Many children bear a similarity to the mate of the mother, but there are some who look like other men of the Cave, some who hardly know the mother at all.”
“It could have happened during a festival or ceremony to honor the Mother. Don’t many women share Pleasures with men who are not their mates then?” Ayla asked.
Zelandoni was quiet, thinking. “Ayla, this idea of yours will require deep thought, and consideration. I don’t know if you understand the implications. If it is true, it would cause changes that neither you nor I can even imagine. Such a revelation could only come from the zelandonia, Ayla. No one would accept such an idea unless they believed it came from one who speaks for the Great Earth Mother Herself. Who have you talked to about this?”
Only Jondalar, and now you,” Ayla said.
“I suggest that you say nothing to anyone else just yet. I will talk to Jondalar and impress upon him the necessity of speaking to no one, either.” They both sat quietly, immersed in their own thoughts.
“Zelandoni,” Ayla said, “do you ever wonder what it would feel like to be a man?”
“That’s a strange thing to wonder about.”
“I was thinking about something Jondalar said. It was when I wanted to go hunting, and he didn’t want me to go. I know that part of the reason was that he was planning to come back here and build our home, but there was more to it than that. He said something about wanting a purpose. ‘What’s a man’s purpose if women have children and provide for them, too?’ That’s how he said it. I never thought about a purpose for living before. What would it feel like to think my life had no meaning?”
“You can carry that a step further, Ayla. You know part of your purpose is to bring forth the next generation, but what is the purpose of having another generation? What is the purpose of life?”
“I don’t know. What is the purpose of life?” Ayla asked.
Zelandoni laughed. “If I could answer that, I’d be equal to the Great Mother Herself, Ayla. Only She can answer that question. There are many who claim our purpose is to honor Her. Perhaps our purpose is just to live, and to care for the next generation so that they may live. That may be the best way to honor Her. The Mother’s Song says She made us because She was lonely, that She wanted to be remembered, and acknowledged. But there are those who say there is no purpose. I doubt if that question can be answered in this world, Ayla. I’m not sure if it can be answered in the next.”
“But at least women know they are necessary for there to be a next generation. How must it feel not to have even that much purpose?” Ayla said. “How would it feel to think life would go on just the same whether you were here or not, whether your kind, your gender, was here or not?”
“Ayla, I have never had any children. Should I feel my life has no purpose?” Zelandoni asked.
“It’s not the same. Perhaps you could have had children, and if you could not, you are still a woman. You still belong to the gender that brings forth life,” Ayla said.
“But we are all human. Including men. We’re all just
people. Both men and women continue on to the next generation. Women have boys as often as they have girls,” the donier said.
“That’s just it. Women have boys as often as girls. What do the men have to do with it? If you felt that you and all of your kind had no part in creating that next generation, would you feel as human? Or would you feel less important? Something added on at the last moment, something unnecessary?” Ayla was leaning forward, strongly making her point’s, passionate in her feelings about them.
Zelandoni pondered the question, then looked at the serious face of the young woman with the sleeping baby in her arms. “You belong to the zelandonia, Ayla. You argue as well as any of them,” she said.
Ayla pulled back. “I don’t want to be a Zelandoni,” she said.
The heavy woman eyed her with speculation. “Why not?”
“I just want to be a mother, and Jondalar’s mate,” Ayla said.
“Don’t you want to be a healer anymore? You are as skilled as anyone, including me,” the donier said.
Ayla frowned. “Well, yes, I want to keep on being a healer, too.”
“You said you assisted your Mamut a few times in some of his other duties, didn’t you find it interesting?” said the One Who Was First.
“It was interesting,” Ayla conceded, “especially learning things I didn’t know, but it was frightening, too.”
“How much more frightening would it have been if you had been alone and unprepared? Ayla, you are a daughter of the Mammoth Hearth. Mamut had a reason for adopting you. I can see it, I think you can, too. Look inside yourself. Have you ever been frightened by something strange and unfamiliar when you were alone?”
Ayla refused to look at Zelandoni, looking away, and then down, but she nodded just slightly.
“You know there is something different about you,
something few people have, don’t you? You try to ignore it, put it out of your mind, but it’s difficult sometimes, isn’t it?”
Ayla glanced up. Zelandoni was staring at her, forcing her to look back, holding her eyes the way she had done the first time they met. Ayla struggled to look away, but couldn’t quite do it. “Yes,” she said softly. “It is difficult sometimes.” Zelandoni released her hold, and Ayla looked down again.
“No one becomes Zelandoni unless they feel the call, Ayla,” the woman said gently. “But what if you should feel the call and not be prepared? Don’t you think it would be better to have some training, just in case? The possibility is there, no matter how much you may want to deny it to yourself;’
“But doesn’t the preparation in itself make it more likely?” Ayla asked.
“Yes. It does. But it can be interesting. I’ll be honest with you. I want an acolyte. I don’t have too many years left. I want the one who follows me to be trained by me. This is my Cave. I want the best for it. I am First Among Those Who Serve The Great Earth Mother. I don’t say this often, but I am not First without reason. If a person is gifted, no one could train her better than I can. You are gifted, Ayla. You are, perhaps, more gifted than I am. You could be First,” Zelandoni said.
“What about Jonokol?” Ayla asked.
“You should know the answer to that. Jonokol is an excellent artist. He was happy to remain an acolyte. He never wanted to become a Zelandoni, until you showed him that cave. You know he’ll be gone by next summer. He will move to the Nineteenth Cave as soon as he can get the Zelandoni of the Nineteenth to accept him, and find an excuse to leave me. He wants that Cave, Ayla, and I think he should have it. He will not only make it beautiful, in that cave, he will bring to life the world of the spirits,” Zelandoni said.
“Look at this, Ayla!” Jondalar said, holding a flint point. He was full of excitement. “I heated the flint the way Wymez does, very hot. I knew I had it right when it cooled because it
felt shiny and slick, almost as if it had been oiled. Then I retouched it bifacially, using the pressure techniques he developed. It still isn’t up to his quality, but I think with practice, I may get close. I can see all kinds of possibilities. I can remove those long thin flakes, now. That means I can make points almost as thin as I want, and get a long straight edge for a knife or a spear, without the curve that you always get when you start with a blade detached from a core. I can even straighten those blades more easily with careful retouching on the inner side of both ends of a curved blade. I can make any kind of notch I want. I can make shouldered points with a tang for halting. You can’t believe the control it gives me. I can do anything I want. It’s almost like bending the stone to your will. That Wymez is a genius!”
Ayla smiled at him going on and on. “Wymez may be a genius, Jondalar, but you are just as good,” she said.
“I only wish I were. Remember, he developed the process. I’m only trying to copy it. It’s too bad he lives so far away. But I am grateful for the time I had with him. I wish Dalanar were here. He said he was going to experiment this winter, too, and I’d really like to discuss it with him.”
Jondalar examined the blade again, looking it over critically. Then he looked up and smiled at her. “I almost forgot to tell you. I am definitely going to be taking on Matagan as an apprentice for more than this winter. Since he came to visit, I’ve been able to judge, and I think he does have talent and ability with the stone. I had a long talk with his mother and her mate, and Joharran is agreeable.”
“I like Matagan,” Ayla said. “I’m glad you will be teaching him your craft. You have so much patience, and you arc the best flint-knapper of the Ninth Cave, probably of all the Zelandoni.”
Jondalar smiled at her words. One’s mate always made favorable comparisons, he said to himself, but at a deeper level, he thought it might be true. “Would it be all right if he stays with us all the time?”
“I think I would like that. We have so much room in the main room, we can take part of it to make him a sleeping
room,” she said. “I hope the baby doesn’t disturb him. Jonayla still wakes up at night.”
“Young men tend to be sound sleepers. I don’t think he even hears her.”
“I have been meaning to talk to you about something Zelandoni said,” Ayla said.