The Land of Painted Caves (35 page)

The Ninth Cave had always had a particularly good relationship with the people of Three Rocks who lived at the place called Summer Camp. Jondalar recalled going there when he was a boy to help harvest the nuts that grew so abundantly in their vicinity. Whoever was invited to help harvest always got a share of the nuts, and they didn’t invite everyone, but they always invited the other two Caves of Three Rocks, and the Ninth Cave.

A young woman with light blond hair and pale skin stepped out of a dwelling that was under the abri and looked at them with surprise. “What are you doing here?” she said, then caught herself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rude. It’s just such a surprise to see you here. I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

Ayla thought she looked sad and drawn; a darkness circled her eyes.

Zelandoni knew it was the Acolyte to the Zelandoni of the West Holding of the Twenty-ninth Cave. “Don’t be sorry,” said the First. “I know we caught you by surprise. I am taking Ayla on her first Donier Tour. Let me introduce you.” The First went through an abbreviated version of a formal introduction, then said, “I’m wondering why an acolyte would stay behind. Is someone especially sick here?”

“Perhaps no more than others here who are close to the Next World, but she’s my mother,” the Acolyte said. Zelandoni nodded with understanding.

“If you like, we can take a look at her,” the One Who Was First said.

“I’d be grateful if you would, but I didn’t want to ask. My Zelandoni seemed to help her when she was here, and she did give me some instructions, but mother seems to have gotten worse. She’s much more uncomfortable, but I can’t seem to help her,” the young acolyte said.

Ayla remembered meeting the Zelandoni of Summer Camp the year before. Since each one of the Caves of Three Rocks had a Zelandoni who lived with them, it had been concluded that if all three had a deciding voice at the meetings of the zelandonia, it would give the Twenty-ninth Cave too much influence. Therefore, a fourth Donier was chosen to represent the entire group, but she functioned more as a mediator, not only between the three other Zelandonii, but also between the three separate leaders, and it took much time and a great deal of skill with people. The other three Doniers were called colleagues. Ayla remembered the Zelandoni of Summer Camp as a middle-aged woman, nearly as fat as the One Who Was First, but rather than tall, she was quite short and seemed warm and motherly. Her title was Complementary Zelandoni of the West Holding of the Twenty-ninth Cave, although she was a full Zelandoni, and accorded the complete respect and status of her position.

The young acolyte seemed relieved to have someone else look at her mother, especially someone of such prominence and knowledge, but seeing that Jondalar was just beginning to unpack the things from the pole-drag, and Ayla’s baby, who was riding her back, seemed to be getting fussy, she said, “You should get yourselves settled in first.”

They greeted everyone who was there, put down their sleeping rolls, settled the horses to a good open space of fresh grass, and got Wolf acquainted with the people, or rather, the people familiar with him. Then Zelandoni and Ayla approached the young acolyte.

“What is it that is troubling your mother?” Zelandoni asked.

“I’m not entirely sure. She complains about stomachaches or cramps, and lately she has no appetite,” the young woman said. “I can see that she’s getting thin, and now she doesn’t want to get out of bed. I am very worried.”

“That’s understandable,” Zelandoni said. “Do you want to come with me to see her, Ayla?”

“Yes, but let me ask Jondalar to watch Jonayla first. I just nursed her, so she should be fine.”

She took the baby to Jondalar, who was talking to an older man who didn’t seem weak or ill. Ayla supposed he was there on behalf of someone else, like the young acolyte. Jondalar was delighted to look after Jonayla, smiling as he reached for her. Jonayla smiled back; she liked being with him.

Ayla returned to the place where the other two women waited and followed them into a dwelling, similar to the ones made by the Ninth Cave, but this one was much smaller than most of those she had seen. It seemed made to house only the woman who occupied the sleeping place within. It wasn’t much bigger than the bed, just a small space around it and a small storage and cooking area. Zelandoni alone seemed to fill it, with very little extra room for the two younger women.

“Mother. Mother!” the acolyte said. “There are some people here to see you.”

The woman moaned and opened her eyes, and then opened them wider when she saw the large figure of the First.

“Shevola?” she said with a raspy voice.

“I’m here, mother,” the acolyte said.

“Why is the First here? Did you send for her?”

“No, mother. She just happened to stop by and said she’d look in on you. Ayla is here, too,” Shevola said.

“Ayla? Isn’t she Jondalar’s foreign woman with the animals?”

“Yes, mother. She brought them with her. If you feel up to it later, you can go out and see them.”

“What is your mother’s name, Acolyte of the West Holding of the Twenty-ninth Cave?” Zelandoni asked.

“Vashona of Summer Camp, the West Holding of the Twenty-ninth Cave. She was born at Reflection Rock before Three Rocks joined together,” the young woman explained, then felt slightly embarrassed, aware that she didn’t need to go through so much explanation. This wasn’t a formal introduction.

“Would you mind if Ayla examined you, Vashona?” the First asked. “She is a skilled healer. We may not be able to help you, but we’d like to try.”

“No,” the woman said softly, and it seemed with some hesitation. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Ayla was a little surprised that the First wanted her to look at the woman. Then it occurred to her that the space inside the dwelling was so cramped, the large woman might have some difficulty getting down to the bedside. She knelt down and looked at the woman. “Are you feeling pain now?” she asked.

Both Vashona and her daughter suddenly became aware of Ayla’s unusual way of speaking, her exotic accent.

“Yes.”

“Will you show me where it is?”

“It’s hard to say. Inside.”

“Higher up or lower down?”

“All over.”

“May I touch you?”

The woman looked at her daughter, who looked at Zelandoni. “She does need to examine her,” the First said.

Vashona nodded agreement and Ayla pulled down the cover and opened her clothing, exposing her stomach. She noted immediately that the woman was bloated. She pressed down on her stomach, starting at the top and working her way down over the rounded bulge. Vashona winced, but didn’t cry out. Ayla felt her forehead and around the back of her ears, then bent closer and smelled her breath. Then she sat back on her heels and looked thoughtful.

“Do you get a burning pain in your chest, especially after you eat?” Ayla asked.

“Yes,” the woman replied, with a questioning look.

“And does air come out of your mouth with a loud noise in the throat, like when you burp a baby?”

“Yes, but many people belch,” Vashona said.

“That’s true, but have you spit up blood, too?” Ayla asked.

Vashona frowned. “Sometimes,” she said.

“Have you noticed blood or a dark sticky mass in your excrement?”

“Yes,” the woman said, almost in a whisper. “More lately. How did you know?”

“She knows from her examination of you,” Zelandoni interjected.

“What did you do for your pain?” Ayla asked.

“I did what everybody does for pain. I drank willow-bark tea,” Vashona said.

“And do you also drink a lot of peppermint tea?” Ayla said.

Both Vashona and Shevola, her acolyte daughter, looked at the stranger with surprise. “It’s her favorite tea,” Shevola said.

“Licorice root or anise tea would be better,” Ayla said, “and no more willow bark, either, for now. Some people think that since everybody uses it, it can’t hurt you. But too much can. It is a medicine, but it’s not good for everything, and should not be used too frequently.”

“Can you help her?” the acolyte asked.

“I think so. I believe I know what is wrong. It’s serious, but there are things that can help. I must tell you, though,” Ayla added, “that it could be something even more serious that is much harder to treat, although we can at least relieve some of her pain.”

Ayla caught the eye of Zelandoni, who was nodding slightly with a knowing expression on her face.

“What would you suggest for treatment, Ayla?” she asked.

Ayla looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “Anise or licorice root to settle the stomach. I have some dried in my medicine bag. And I think I have dried sweet flag—although it is so sweet it’s almost bitter—which can stop cramping spasms, and there are plenty of dandelions around to cleanse her blood and help her insides work better. I just picked some cleavers, which can purge her body of residues of wastes, and a decoction of the woodruff I just gathered is good for stomachs, can help her feel better all over, and tastes good. I may be able to find more of those wood avens rootlets I used for flavoring the other evening. They’re especially good for stomach disorders. But what I’d really like to have is celandine; that would be most helpful. It’s a good treatment for either one of her possible problems, especially the more serious one.”

The young woman looked at Ayla with awe. The First knew she wasn’t Summer Camp’s Zelandoni’s First Acolyte. She was still new to the zelandonia and had much to learn. And Ayla could still surprise even the First with the depth of her knowledge. She turned to the young acolyte.

“Perhaps you could assist Ayla with the preparation of your mother’s medicine. It will be a way for you to learn how to make it after we leave,” Zelandoni said.

“Oh, yes. I’d like to help,” the young woman said, then looked at her mother with tenderness in her eyes. “I think this medicine will make you feel much better, mother.”

   Ayla watched the fire sending flickering sparks up into the night as though trying to reach their twinkling brethren far up in the sky above. It was dark; the moon was young and had already set. No clouds obscured the dazzling display of stars that were so thick, they seemed to be strung together on skeins of light.

Jonayla was asleep in her arms. She had finished nursing some time before, but Ayla was comfortable relaxing by the fire holding her. Jondalar was sitting beside her and a little behind, and she leaned into his chest and the arm that had found its way around her. It had been a busy day and she was tired. There were only nine people of the Cave who had not gone to the Summer Meeting, six who were too sick or weak to make the long walk—she and Zelandoni had looked at all six—and three who had stayed behind to care for them. Some of those who couldn’t make the journey were nonetheless well enough to help with certain chores like cooking and gathering food. The older man Jondalar had been talking with earlier, who was staying for a while to help, had gone hunting and brought down a deer, so they put together a venison feast for their guests.

In the morning, Zelandoni took Ayla aside and told her that she had arranged for the young acolyte to show their Sacred Cave to her. “It isn’t very big, but it is very difficult. You may have to crawl through parts of it, so wear something to climb through caves and cover your knees. When I was young, I went into it once, but I don’t think I could do it now. I think the two of you will manage just fine, but it will be slow going. You are both strong young women, so it shouldn’t take too long, but because it is difficult, you might want to consider leaving your baby here.” She paused, then added, “I will watch her if you like.”

Ayla thought she detected a reluctance in Zelandoni’s voice. Taking care of babies could be tiring, and the First might have other plans. “Why don’t I ask Jondalar if he will. He likes to spend time with Jonayla.”

   The two young women started out together, with the young acolyte showing the way. “Should I call you by your full title, a short version of it, or by your name?” Ayla asked after they had walked a short distance. “Different acolytes seem to have different preferences.”

“What do people call you?”

“I am Ayla. I know I’m the acolyte of the First, but I still have trouble thinking of myself that way, and ‘Ayla’ is what everyone calls me. I like it better. My name is the only thing I have left from my real mother, my original people. I don’t even know who they were. I don’t yet know what I’m going to do when I become a full Zelandoni. I know we’re supposed to leave our personal names behind, and I hope when the time comes, I’ll be ready to, but I’m not yet.”

“Some acolytes are happy to change names, some would rather not, but it all seems to work out. I think I’d like you to call me Shevola. It seems more friendly than acolyte.”

“So please call me Ayla.”

They walked further along a trail through a narrow canyon, dense with woods and brush, between two imposing cliffs, one of which held the stone shelter of the people. Wolf suddenly bounded up. He startled Shevola, who wasn’t used to wolves appearing suddenly. Ayla grabbed his head between her hands, roughing up his mane, and laughed.

“So you didn’t want to be left behind,” she said, actually glad to see him. She turned toward the acolyte. “He always used to follow me everywhere I went, unless I told him not to, until Jonayla was born. Now he’s drawn between us when I am in one place and she is in another. He wants to protect both of us, and can’t always make up his mind. I thought I’d let him choose this time. I think he must have decided that Jondalar could protect Jonayla well enough and come to find me.”

“Your control over animals is amazing, the way they go where you want and do what you want. One gets used to watching you after a while, but it is still hard to believe,” Shevola said. “Did you always have these animals?”

“No. Whinney was the first, unless you count the rabbit I found when I was a little girl,” Ayla said. “He must have gotten away from some predator, but he was hurt, and didn’t, or couldn’t, run away when I picked him up. Iza was the healer and I took him back to the cave so she could help him. She was more than surprised, and told me that healers were supposed to help people, not animals, but she helped him anyway. Maybe to see if she could. I suppose the idea that people could help animals must have stayed with me when I saw the little foal. I didn’t realize at first that the animal that fell into my pit trap was a nursing mare, and I don’t know why I killed the hyenas that were after her baby, except I hate hyenas. But once I did, I felt that the foal had become my responsibility, that I had to try to raise her. I’m glad I did. She has become my friend.”