Durc dreamed of a place where uncountable Others lived in structures made mainly of hides, but very unlike Clan tents. It made a Clan Gathering look small. Hearths everywhere, people trampling the ground to dust, all of them tall and straight with high foreheads and jutting chins. A wolf was there too.
One last sight made him awake with an outcry: a cave lion, majestically huge, with a reddish mane--and a woman seated on its back! Ayla, his mama, rode upon the lion, her golden hair haloed by the sun and her blue eyes running over with water. Hers was the only face that he saw clearly, of all those Others.
Durc sat upright, the word "Mammaaa" on his lips. Chac was at his side in an instant, paws on the sleeping platform. In the light from a lamp that burned in a niche that also held a carved piece of ivory that represented something important to the Others, Durc looked into the wolf's eyes and signed to it. Chac licked at his hand and face as he spoke.
"Chac, I dreamed of my mother, my real mother. I saw her. She was with her totem, the Cave Lion, and many Others. Now I know it is true. She lives, and the Others are her people. They will be my people too." He stroked the wolf's head then and scratched in the soft fur behind its ears.
"Durc," a soft voice whispered.
He saw Kylie's tattooed face peering at him from her sleeping niche. "Yez, Ma-mut?"
She said something, then pressed her lips together in a grimace of suppressed laughter. The mamut of Aurochs Camp knew too little of Clan signs and Durc too little of Mamutoi for them to communicate except by tone and expression. It was enough to reassure her. She pulled herself back out of sight. Durc lay back again too. For quite a while he mulled over his dream, recalling as much of it as he could. Eventually he drifted off to sleep. So did the messenger of the Wolf Spirit, curled contentedly on an old bison skin near the beds of his pack leader and his new friend.
Aurochs Camp had a festive atmosphere all day. The roasting pit fire, started before breakfast, burned half the morning. Then the cut-up bison, less some parts that hung drying for later use, was put in to cook. Green cattail leaves served to keep ashes and dirt off the meat. Some sections of intestine had been saved; these were packed with roots and herbs, tied off at the ends, and placed in the center of the carefully arranged meat. While they waited for the food to cook--the longer the better--the men, women, and children amused themselves and their guest with games and contests. Some preparations still had to be made for the feast, but adults as well as children passed most of their time in play.
"It's almost as good as being at the Summer Meeting," Deegie said as she watched the young people taking their turn at the spear-thrower competition. She sat on a hide, shaded by an open canopy, a large aurochs hide supported by poles with stakes and ropes to hold it steady against the constant wind. Tarneg sat with her, on a stool that Danug had built for him. His leg, broken in two places in a wild tangle with a giant deer, would keep him relatively inactive for some time yet. Deegie's three-year-old twins and Chac napped in the shade with them.
Tarneg smiled at his sister. "Yes, and we two at least get to watch the fun. Ho! Did you see that throw? Myzec is going to be one of our best hunters in a few years, I'd bet on it."
"Watch Romie--she hasn't got quite the range, but she's the most accurate. What will you wager she beats him two to one in the target throws?"
"I'm not going to lose my best furs to you again!" Tarneg laughed heartily.
"Shh, you'll wake the 'wolf-pups'," Deegie said. Then she waved to Danug, who strode up the slope from the practice field to their viewing spot.
"Sit down and get your head out of the sky for a bit, Danug," Tarneg said.
"I will," Danug replied as he plopped himself down next to the headman. "I get tired of bumping my head on the clouds. Whoo, it's warm today. Durc is loosening up, anyway."
"Yes, I thought he looked more at ease," Deegie said. "He's taking to the spear-thrower well, I see."
Danug chuckled. "Yeah, he is. He's one of the few I've seen that could probably hit the side of a mammoth the first time. He has a good eye and arm; I think he can beat any of us with the sling."
"It's hard for him to learn the language, isn't it?" Deegie said thoughtfully. "Ayla told me that she had a hard time learning Clan speech, but she learned spoken language quickly because of her old memories of her life before she lost her original family. All Durc has ever known is the Clan."
"At least he can make the sounds," Tarneg observed. "I expect it helps that we know some of his ways... He seems to want to stay."
"Yes, he does." Danug smiled a little sadly, thinking of the little brother he had lost when he'd only just begun to really know him. "He came all this way... I wonder why, what made him leave. He doesn't seem to want to talk about it. Of course it's not easy to get some things across in the baby-talk signing we use."
"I'm sure he'll tell us some day, either when we've learned his language better or when he's learned ours." Tarneg stretched his good leg and sighed. "I know too well now what it's like not to be able to do things that others can. Oh, Mut--it's starting to itch again!"
Deegie laughed at her brother's agonized look. "Be thankful your leg will be out in less than nine moons!" Danug chuckled at both of them.
Once he got a little more accustomed to the noise and the strange mannerisms, Durc felt less overwhelmed and disoriented. He made an effort to adjust his behavior to accommodate that of the Others. He still wondered how they managed to communicate so well with their spoken language. It was still a lot of ba-ba-la-la to him.
He knew words that pertained to more things than he could count now, and some that seemed to describe actions, but it had him confused. He couldn't put the words together to say anything. They seemed to use the same sound-word for different things. How could you say "a man runs" and "a woman runs" with the same sound? He had to be missing something. It would take time, he supposed. If Others had no Memories, then they must learn even their own way of speaking from--nothing!
Meanwhile, their talk ran through his head like so much water; nothing but undifferentiated noise unless they spoke one word carefully at a time. He would simply have to accept the fact that in some ways he was a baby again.
They appreciated his skill with the sling, however. That brought his morale up a good notch. If all their grimacing and laughing meant that they were happy, then they must be happy that he was here. If that were so, then he might find happiness too. At least he was not alone.
The day sped by. When the sun sank low, Bernie informed Tarneg that the time had come. He called the men from the games to dig out the food. The rest of the Camp ran down to the river for a quick wash to get rid of their sweat-stickiness. After carrying the roasted meat and vegetable "logs" into the lodge in broad, shallow baskets lined with rawhide, the diggers took their turn at bathing.
As soon as everyone had assembled at the Mammoth Hearth, Kylie asked the blessing of Mut upon their feast. She finished, "As we share this food, let us always share our hearts. Today we share our feast with Durc, son of Ayla, of the Clan of the Cave Bear, protected and guided by the spirit of the Grey Wolf. It is our hope that he may remain with us. In Mut's name, let us eat." She spread her arms wide.
Deegie was not allowed to do more than take the first bite of the succulent meat and serve Durc a portion. After their guest had his plate, everyone dug in. It was obvious that there would be plenty of leftovers, despite even Danug's notorious appetite. Durc ate with evident relish, smacking his lips and signing "Good!"
Once everyone had eaten their fill, Danug and Branag helped Bernie put away most of the leftover meat. "Now what," Danug said. "Durc can't tell us the story of his Journey very handily."
"Kylie said she thought we should just entertain him with song and dance. She wants to see if he likes what she's done with the Clan rhythms Ayla showed her."
"Ah, yeah." Danug smiled, shaking his head. "I wonder what he's thinking of our female 'mowgh-urrr'."
The mamut of Aurochs Camp asked for a little more space around the hearth while she and two men brought out bone instruments. The men seated themselves to one side. Kylie stood by the hearth, and waited while conversation stilled. The men began to beat out a complex rhythm on the mammoth bones. As the woman lifted her arms in a dramatic gesture, flames leaped up. It was a simple trick, she held handfuls of flammable powdered resin and club-moss spores, releasing them into the fire as she began her sudden move. But her timing was so good that it always brought a gasp from the audience.
Kylie began to dance, her ivory bracelets rattling. She danced the Sun's Journey through the sky. Then she performed the Tall Grass Dance, swaying like windblown grass, inviting the herds of animals to come.
Danug began to dole out his bouza. "It's a good thing I started this batch when I did," he observed to Tarneg during a momentary lull in the music.
"I'm looking forward to the autumn brew," Tarneg said. "Not only is it the best, but I'll have two legs by then. Ho, that's enough. I don't need to be hobbling off to the trench too often."
Deegie smiled. "I'll have to anyway, but no more for me either, thank you."
"I'll have another for you," Branag offered with a wink.
"And two for yourself, you big sop."
Danug laughed at them. He knew very well that Branag intended to stay sober in case the baby should make up its mind to enter the world. Or babies, he thought. He went to see how Durc was handling the festivities.
The solemn looking guest of honor stood next to Frebec, motioning with one hand and trying to get his mouth around a new word. His moderate brow ridges enhanced the serious look of his brown eyes. He really didn't look all that different from a lot of Mamutoi. Danug offered him a refill.
Durc shrugged, nodded, and said, "Bouza. Dringk."
Frebec gave Danug a half-smile. "It's frustrating for him, but he's come a long way already." He signed to Durc, "One day no speak good, many day speak good. You good man here."
"This man (something) here," Durc signed.
Danug nodded, wishing that he had been able to learn more from Ayla... or that Rydag had lived. But time would surely help. Durc had the ability to adapt. He doubted that a full-blooded Clan man would even put up with the presence of so many "Others". Only someone like Durc could have survived the long journey alone. He nodded, signing, "Durc home here, friend, sibling."
"Danug good heart," Durc motioned.
Danug shrugged diffidently. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Thalarie's smile, like the sun breaking through clouds.
As the bouza flowed freely the party mood grew less inhibited. Kylie relinquished the dance area to others, and thigh-slapping and foot-stamping accompanied the musicians' melodic patterns. Durc felt himself caught up in the steady beat, his own feet slapping the hard-packed lodge floor. He knew there was something more than the sound affecting him--that odd warm feeling that slithered down his bones after the bouza hit his stomach, very unlike datura but certainly intoxicating--yet there was something else that spoke to him in a very familiar way. The rhythm!
He glanced over at the musicians. Kylie had taken up a wooden bowl and was beating out a Clan rhythm, and the men with the bones carried on a strangely compelling dialog with it. The intertwining beats threaded their way through the depths of his mind, touching both sides of him, weaving them together.
Durc began to move with the sound. It filled him and took the shape of his thoughts. He relived that terrible moment of his self-exile, dancing his rage and pain as if it were a hunt-story. He danced the message of the wolves. His movements became so full of hopeless loneliness that the watchers wept. Circling the hearth, Durc danced the whole story of his solitary journey. Those who witnessed it might not see what he had seen, but they saw what he felt.
The percussive music kept pace with his dance as much as he danced to it. Kylie's eyes stayed on him with a burning intensity. Had he looked into them he might not have thought of a woman staring impertinently at a man, but of a mog-ur looking into a man's spirit. He did not look; he was completely absorbed in his dance. The unnamable urge that drove him on, his dreams, his fears; he danced it all. With a final whirl and leap of joy, the dance ended.
Durc looked upon his people, and smiled.
Author's maundering:
AFAIK Tarneg's mate was never mentioned by name. The main thing slowing me down here was research into matters canonical. I also admit to doing some thinking between the lines.
BTW, the title is a reference to Logan's Run. The parallel came to mind and I couldn't think of anything better.
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