"No! Ayla don't!" she heard Jondalar saying, but she was past all caring.
"They are human, and so is Rydag. I know, because I have a son like him."
"Oh, no." Jondalar cringed, as he pushed his way forward to stand beside her.
"Did she say she had a son like him?" a man said. "A son of mixed spirits?"
"I'm afraid you've done it now, Ayla," Jondalar said quietly.
"She mothered an abomination? You better get away from her." A man came forward to the woman who had been arguing with Ayla. "If she draws that kind of spirit to her, it might get inside some other women, too."
"That's right! You better get away from her, too," another man said to the obviously pregnant woman standing beside him, as he led her away. Other people were drawing back, their expressions full of repugnance and fear.
"Clan?" one of the musicians said. "Those rhythms she played, didn't she say they were Clan rhythms? Is that who she meant? Flatheads?"
As Ayla looked around, she felt a moment of panic, and an urge to run from all these people who were looking at her with such disgust. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, lifted her chin and stood her ground defiantly. What right did they have to say her son was less than human? From the corner of her eye she saw Jondalar standing beside, and just behind her, and was more grateful than she could say.
Then, on her other side, another man stepped forward. She turned and smiled at Mamut, and Ranec as well. Then Nezzie was standing with her, and Talut, and then, of all people, Frebec. Almost as one, the rest of the Lion Camp stood beside her.
"You are wrong," Mamut said to the throng, in the voice that seemed too powerful to come from one so old. "Flatheads are not animals. They are people, and children of the Mother as much as you are. I, too, lived with them for a time, and hunted with them. Their medicine woman healed my arm, and I learned my way to the Mother through them. The Mother does not mix spirits, there are no horse-wolves, or lion-deer. The people of the Clan are different, but the difference is insignificant. No children like Rydag, or Ayla's son, could be born if they were not human, too. They are not abominations. They are simply children."
"I don't care what you say, old Mamut," the pregnant woman said. "I don't want a flathead child or a mixed one. If she already had one, that spirit may linger around her."
"Woman, Ayla is no threat to you," the old shaman replied. "The spirit that was chosen for your child is already there. It cannot be changed now. It was not Ayla's doing that gave her baby the spirit of a flathead man, she did not draw that spirit to her. It was the Mother's choice. You must remember, a man's spirit never lingers far from the man himself. Ayla grew up with the Clan. She became a woman while she lived with them. When Mut decided to give her a child, She could only choose from the men who were nearby, and they were all men of the Clan. Of course the spirit of one of them was chosen to enter her, but you don't see any men of the Clan around here now, do you?"
"Old Mamut, what if there were some flathead men nearby?" a woman shouted out from the crowd.
"I believe they would have to be very close, even share the same hearth, before that spirit would be chosen. The people of the Clan are human, but there are some differences. While life is better than no life to the Mother, which is why Ayla was given a child when she wanted one, it is not easy to blend the two. With so many Mamutoi men around, one of them would be chosen first."
"That's what you say, old man," another voice called out. "I'm not so sure it's true. I'm keeping my woman away from her."
"No wonder she's so good with animals, she grew up with them." Ayla turned and saw that it was Chaleg who was talking.
"Does that mean their magic is stronger than ours?" Frebec replied. There was some uneasy shuffling in the crowd.
"I've heard her say it's not magic. She says anyone can do it." Frebec recognized the voice of the Mamut of Chaleg's Camp.
"Then why hasn't anyone done it before?" Frebec said. "You are Mamut. If anyone can do it, let me see you go out and ride back on a horse. Why don't you bring a wolf under your control? I've seen Ayla whistle birds down out of the sky."
"Why are you standing up for her, Frebec, against your own family, your own Camp?" Chaleg asked.
"What Camp is my Camp? The one that turned me out, or the one that took me in? My hearth is the Hearth of the Crane, my Camp is Lion Camp. Ayla lived near us all winter. Ayla was there when Bectie was born, and she is not mixed. The daughter of my hearth would not even be here now, if it hadn't been for Ayla."
Jondalar listened to Frebec with a lump in his throat. In spite of what he said, it took real courage to face down his own cousin, his own relatives, the Camp of his birth. Jondalar could hardly believe this was the same man who had been such a big troublemaker. He had been so quick to condemn Frebec in the beginning, yet who was the one who had felt embarrassed for Ayla? Who was the one who feared what people would say if she said anything about her background? Who was the one that was afraid he would be rejected by his family and his people if he stood up for her? Frebec had shown him what a coward he was. Frebec, and Ayla.
When he'd seen her swallow down her fear, and lift her chin to face them all, he had never felt more proud of anyone in his life. Then the Lion Camp stood up with her, and he could hardly believe it. The ones that counted were the ones that cared. Jondalar forgot as he thought about Ayla and the Lion Camp with praise and pride, that he had been the first one to rush to her side.
34
The Lion Camp returned to Cattail Camp to discuss the unexpected crisis. An initial suggestion to leave immediately was quickly abandoned. They were, after all, Mamutoi, and this was the Summer Meeting. Tulie had stopped by for Latie so that she could be included in the discussions, and prepared for the possibility of unkind comments directed at her, Ayla, or the Lion Camp. She was asked if she wanted to delay her womanhood rites. Latie defended Ayla vehemently, and decided she would return to the special Camp for the ceremony and ritual, and just let anyone try to say anything bad about Ayla, or the Lion Camp.
Then Tulie asked Ayla why she hadn't mentioned her son before. Ayla explained she didn't like to talk about him because it still hurt too much, and Nezzie quickly made it clear that she had been told in the very beginning. Mamut also admitted to knowing about him. Though the headwoman wished she had known and wondered why she was not told, she did not blame Ayla. She considered whether she would have thought about the young woman any differently, had she known, and admitted she might not have credited her with as much potential value or status. Then she began to question her position. Why should it make a difference? Was Ayla any different?
Rydag was very upset and depressed, and nothing Nezzie said or did seemed to help. He wouldn't eat, wouldn't go out of the tent, wouldn't communicate except to respond to a direct question. He would only sit and hug the wolf. Nezzie was grateful for the animal's patience. Ayla decided to see if there was anything she could do. She found him sitting with the wolf on his sleeping roll in a dark corner. Wolf lifted his head, and banged his tail on the ground at her approach.
"Is it all right if I sit down here with you, Rydag?" she asked.
He shrugged an assent. She sat beside him and asked how he felt, speaking aloud to him, but automatically signing the words, too, until she realized it was probably too dark to see. It struck her then, the real advantage to being able to speak with words. It wasn't that you couldn't speak as well with signals and hand signs, it was that you weren't limited by only what you could see.