The Mammoth Hunters

Ayla's horses were never so appreciated as when she loaded them for the trip back. Every hunter was preparing a full load, and immediately understood the benefits of the pack animals. The travois provoked particular interest. Several people had wondered why Ayla insisted on dragging the long poles with her; they were obviously not spears. Now they were nodding approval. One of the men, jokingly, even picked up a partially loaded travois and dragged it himself.

Though they woke early, eager to get back, it was midmorning before they got underway. Sometime after noon the hunters climbed a long, narrow hill of sand, gravel, and boulders, deposited long before by the leading edge of the glacier broaching farther south. When they reached the rounded ridge of the esker, they stopped for a rest, and looking back, Ayla saw the glacier unshrouded by mists from the perspective of distance for the first time. She could not stop looking at it.

Gleaming in the sun, a few clouds in the west obscuring its upper reaches, a continuous barrier of ice the height of a mountain stretched across the land as far as she could see, marking a boundary beyond which none could go. It was truly the end of the earth.

The front edge was uneven, accommodating minor local differences in terrain, and a climb to the top would have revealed dips and ridges, seracs, and crevices quite extensive on a human scale, but in relation to its own size, the surface was uniformly level. Sweeping beyond imagination, the vast inexorable glacier sheathed a quarter of the earth's surface with a glittering carapace of ice. Ayla kept looking back when they started out again, and watched the western clouds move in and the mists rise, veiling the ice in mystery.

In spite of their heavy packs, they traveled faster on the trek back than they had on the way there. Each year the terrain changed enough over the winter that the route, even to well-known places, had to be reexplored. But the way to the northern glacier, and back, was now known. Everyone was jubilant and in good spirits about the successful hunt, and eager to return to the Meeting. No one seemed weighted down by their load, except Ayla. As they traveled, the feeling of foreboding she had experienced on their way north became even stronger on the way back, but she avoided any mention of her misgivings.

The carver was so full of anxious anticipation he found it hard to contain himself. The anxiety stemmed largely from Vincavec's continuing interest in Ayla, though he felt a vague sense of deeper conflicts as well. But Ayla was still Promised to him, and they were carrying the meat for the Matrimonial Feast. Even Jondalar seemed to have accepted the joining, and although nothing was explicitly stated, Ranec sensed that the tall man was siding with him against Vincavec. The Zelandonii man had many admirable qualities, and a tentative friendship was developing. Nonetheless, Ranec felt Jondalar's presence was a tacit threat to his joining with Ayla, and could be an obstacle that stood between him and complete happiness. Ranec would be happy when he finally left.

Ayla was not looking forward to the Matrimonial Ceremony at all, though she knew she should have been. She knew how much Ranec loved her, and she believed she could be happy with him. The idea of having a baby like Tricie's filled her with delight. In her own mind, Ayla knew beyond doubt that Ralev was Ranec's child. It was not the result of any mixing of spirits. She was sure that he had started the child with his own essence when he shared Pleasures with Tricie. Ayla liked the red-haired woman, and felt sorry for her. She decided she would not mind sharing Ranec and the hearth with her and Ralev, if Tricie wanted to.

It was only in the darkest depths of night that Ayla admitted to herself that she might be just as happy not living at Ranec's hearth at all. She had generally avoided sleeping with him during the trip out, except for a few occasions when he seemed to be in special need of her, not physically, but because he wanted reassurance and closeness. On the way back, she had not been able to share Pleasures with Ranec. Instead, in her bed at night, she could think only of Jondalar. The same questions went through her mind over and over again, but she could come to no conclusion.

When she thought of the day of the hunt, of her close call with the bull mammoth, and of the look of aching need in Jondalar's eyes, she wondered if it was possible that he still loved her. Then why had he been so distant all winter? Why had he stopped finding Pleasure in her? Why had he left the Mammoth Hearth? She remembered that day on the steppes the first time he rode Racer. When she thought of his desire, his need, and her willing and eager acceptance, she could not sleep for wanting him, but the memory was clouded by his rejection, and her feelings of pain and confusion.

After one particularly long day, and a late meal, Ayla was among the first to leave the fire and head for the tent. She had turned down Ranec's hopeful, implied request to share his furs with a smile and a comment about being tired after the day's trek, and then, seeing his disappointment, felt bad. But she was tired, and very uncertain about her feelings. She caught sight of Jondalar near the horses before she entered the tent. He was turned away from her, and she watched him, unintentionally fascinated by the shape of his body, the way he moved, the way he stood. She knew him so well, she thought she could recognize him by the shadow he cast. Then she noticed her body had responded to him unintentionally, too. She was breathing faster and her face was flushed, and she felt so drawn to him, she started in his direction.

But it's no use, she thought. If I went over to talk to him, he would just back away, make some excuses, and then go find someone else to talk to. Ayla went into the tent, still full of the feelings he had caused in her, and crawled into her furs.

She had been tired, but now she couldn't sleep, and tossed and turned, trying to deny her yearning for him. What was wrong with her? He didn't seem to want her, why should she want him? But then why did he look at her that way sometimes? Why did he want her so much that time on the steppes? It was as though he was so drawn to her he couldn't help it. A thought struck her then, and she frowned. Maybe he was drawn to her, the way she was drawn to him, but maybe he didn't want to be. Had that been the problem all along?

She felt herself redden again, but this time with chagrin. Thinking about it that way, it suddenly seemed to make sense, all his avoiding her and ru

Ayla felt hot tears at the corners of her eyes. Why should I care about him, when he doesn't really care about me? She sniffed, and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. All this time when I've been thinking about him, and wanting him, he just wanted to forget me.

Well, Ranec wants me, and he makes good Pleasures, too. And he is so good to me. He wants to share a hearth with me, and I haven't even been very nice to him. And he makes nice babies, too, at least Tricie's baby is nice. I think I should start being nicer to Ranec, and forget about Jondalar, she thought. But even as the words formed in her mind, her tears broke forth again, and try as she would she could not stop the thought that rose up from deep within. Yes, Ranec is good to me but Ranec is not Jondalar, and I love Jondalar.