Clan of the Cave Bear - The Next Generation 5

by zeoviolet

Teaser: Winter and spring among the Zelandonii.

It was more her own nausea than the twin howls from her parent's hearth that awoke Anya from a deep sleep. A wave of terrible pain ran through her abdomen before she could even become aware, and Anya gasped as she bolted from her furs, barely clad in her winter underclothes. She stumbled past the embers of the glowing fires, out into the dark predawn of black winter.

Her rolling stomach took presedence over all other sensations, including her bare legs and feet that burned upon contact with the snows of deep winter. She ignored it and the deep shivering that also set in as she rounded the bend of the cave. Her stomach rebelled completely then as she retched, emptying the contents of her stomach.

The feeling of numbness spread to the rest of her body as she leaned back and scooted only a few feet before collapsing into the soft snow, sure she could not keep doing this. By now, she was three moons along in her pregnancy, and she was still losing her stomach often. Despite her need to eat more, she just could not hold it down, and she was sure she had lost quite a bit of weight she could not afford to lose.

She heard faint, worried whimpers as Luna came dashing out of the cave and pressed, trembling, against her side. Anya could not even move to reassure the wolf puppy, she was so weak.

*No surprise my totem is fighting this hard,* she thought, almost inchoerently. *Just because a Cave Bear and a Dirk-toothed tiger mingled does not mean the Mother will let it happen easily.*

She was only dimly aware of a warm fur being wrapped around her as she sensed Echozar coming to her aid. She barely reacted as he lifted her up in his strong arms and carried her violently shivering form back to her furs, tucking them around her and adding extra ones to stave off hypothermia.

"Oh, Anya," she heard him murmuer, worried. She felt his large hands grasp her bluish ones and rub them briskly, trying to restore circulation. "Seems winter is a bad time for a woman to be in early pregnancy. You are blue in your hands and feet. I had almost forgotten how bad it can be. I don't want you sicker than you are, my Donii-woman."

Anya was too tired to even open her eyes. She could hear her mother approaching and entering her Hearth boundaries, and she vaguely felt her head lifted and a cup pressed to her lips firmly.

"Drink, Anya," she heard her mother dimly say. "It will help calm your stomach and keep food in it, hopefully."

Anya was almost too dazed to obey. It had only been two weeks since the birth of the twins, but that was all the time it had taken to reduce her to this. She almost had no control of herself as she weakly lifted her head enough to drink the bitter dregs her mother was forcing down her throat.

After the cup was removed, she sighed and lowered her head again. She was too tired to stay awake, and any awareness she had slid away as soon as her head touched her furs again, vague hands wrapping them around her in an effort to conserve her heat. Not even the cold she felt in her bones could penetrate the haze surrounding her senses.

****

"Why is she like this?" Echozar almost demanded of Ayla, once he was sure Anya was asleep. "Joplaya was never this bad, and neither were you. Is it too dangerous for her to keep the baby?"

"I don't know yet," Ayla admitted. "Morning sickness is worse in some women than it is in others. My pregnancy with Durc was worse than this. It rarely lasts beyond the fourth month. By then it should let up; but if it gets any worse or she loses much more weight--I don't want to have to make her lose it. She has always been slender, she can't lose much weight without becoming very ill. Is she starting to show at all?"

"There is a very faint thickening at her waist that wasn't there before," he admitted. "Why?"

"She should not get much bigger before this ends in most women," advised Ayla. "It doesn't always happen--it didn't when I carried Durc--but hopefully Anya will be lucky. She cannot go on like this, not keeping any food down at all."

She was interrupted by twin howls, and Anya sighed as she stood to tend to the babies Creb and Iza. The infants were now two weeks old, but already, as Ayla put it, they knew how to rule supreme in the family. How so like the people they were named after, she mused, as she settled in to feed both of them at once. She had tried to feed one at a time, but it was uncomfortable and it wasted time, and kept one baby howling while the other fed. Feeding both at once was a definete improvement, and kept the soreness she felt in her breasts to a minimum.

****

Broud had been most astonished when he heard of the finer details of what had happened, especially how Anya had saved both her mother and sister, Iza, from certain death during the birth. He had seen the babies for himself, too, and had discovered that, although they looked quite a bit different from Clan infants, they seemed strong and healthy. It had reinforced in his tired mind that indeed, Durc had never been deformed, only a mixture of spirits.

He was sure that this tale would spread like wildfire throughout the Clans and the various peoples of the Others, and bring many who would seek this medicine woman's aid. She had kept her head and helped Ayla deliver sound, healthy twins, though their lives had almost been lost. Such a woman was not to be taken lightly.

Many people would seek her aid, that is, if she lived, he was forced to remind himself. Word had reached him that Anya was not tolerating her pregnancy well, and he admitted that nobody in the Clan was surprised. He had been astonished enough to learn that her totem had been defeated at all, it definetly was not expected to go down without a fierce fight, a fight that might cost Anya at least that of her baby, if not her life. What was really worrisome was that a dirk-toothed tiger was almost as fierce a fighter as a Cave Bear, Broud was concermed that Anya would not have an easy time of it in any case.

****

Ayla could not hide her worry. It was a few days later, the day her twins would be numbered and accepted among the Zelandonii. Anya was to be named as the children's Donii-mother, the person who would take over their care if anything should happen to Ayla herself.

But Anya was so weak, it seemed doubtful she would be well enough to even attend the ceremony. She had to drag herself do do the simplest chores, and her weight loss was becoming more evident. It sadly brought to Ayla's mind memories of her own first difficult pregnancy; how near-impossible it had been to keep her child in her body long enough to give him a chance at life. And yet, Durc had been born healthy, and Ayla had lived, so it gave her hope for her daughter.

However, there were other details not in Anya's favor. Anya was smaller than Ayla, and she had the same body build with the same narrow hips, despite her smaller frame. Ayla was sure that this had been a major contributing factor in her own difficult deliveries; she prayed that if Anya was able to keep the child, she could deliver it safely.

Ayla frowned as she made a vow to herself. She was not going to lose another child; not like this. If it ever came to the point where she had to choose between Anya and the child she carried, she would have Anya lose the baby.

****

By some unseen force, Anya was able to gather enough strength to attend the acceptance ceremony that would officially make her sister and brother Zelandonii. She dressed in one of her finer outfits, the one that she had worn to the dances last summer, the same one that she had been wearing when Echozar got up the nerve to approach her at last. The outfit that, except for the faint swelling at her waist, now was disturbingly loose on her.

She accepted her baby sister into her arms as she stood beside her mother. Zelandonii came forwards, as regally as she had ever done. She stood before them, chanting in one of the monotomatic languages that only the Zeladnonii women knew. It was one of the high-ranking languages Anya barely understood, even though she herself had moved up in the ranks of the Zelandonia.

"Oh, great spirits blessed of Doni," Anya struggled to understand, and only got bits and pieces. "I ask you.....bless and guard these children born of your womb, through the womb of Ayla of the Zelandonii.....May their lives be prosperous.....their spirits worthy.....the boy honorable in making girls women.....the girl able to prove her motherhood....smile on them with your Gift of Pleasure when the time for it comes...."

Zelandoni reached for the red ochre paste she already had with her, she painted a red circle first on Iza's chest, then Creb's. "The circle of red ochre represents the never-ending cycle of life," she intoned. "So as we are born, we produce more of our kind, and we die, it never ends."

She made a signal, and Anya and Ayla quickly unwrapped the tiny right legs of each infant. Quickly, Zelandoni drew a dagger, which flashed for an instant as she made tiny knicks in the ankles of each baby. This quick action brought about a swift response of shocked twin howls of pure agony, a hard lesson each baby had to learn--that life did include pain.

Just as quickly, Zelandoni knicked an ivory bone she had ready with the same dagger, staining it with the blood of the twins. Most marks on the bone were simple red slashes; however, this time Zelandoni made a cross, symbolizing the birth of twins, an exhaulted feat that had brought Ayla much honor.

Anya winced in anticipation as she dipped her fingers in the antiseptic she was going to apply; this stuff was going to sting even worse than the nicking had. And she was right. By now the twins were screaming at the tops of their lungs as the fiery substance came into contact with the small cuts.

Anya smiled weakly, overwhelming love flashing through her as she stared at her tiny, screaming sister. Ayla smied upon seeing this glance. Anya might be whiter than the snow outside, and so weak she could hardly hold the baby, but the look in her eyes spoke volumes about her desire to have her own baby. Ayla suddenly understood that Anya would fight hard for the baby she carried, and would not lose her baby, possibly if it even meant her own life. Ayla did not like this prospect, for if Anya had to lose her baby to save her own life, she was going to put up quite a fight. Silently, she prayed to Doni and Ursus to let Anya keep her baby, and to come through this ordeal alive and healthy.

****

It did not seem that it would be meant to be. Anya could simply not keep her food down; and after bolting outside too many times in the dead of winter, she caught pneumonia.

It started as a simple cough that others in the Cave were suffering with at the time, and since many others were suffering from colds, it did not seem unusual, except in the fact Anya had rarely been ill in her lifetime. However, nobody was prepared for this next series of tests her totem was going to put her through, and how much was going to be suffered as a result.

At first, Anya simply took to her bed, taking the medicinal teas that usually lessened the symptoms of a cold. She got a mild fever, and only prayed her baby would be all right. But in the night, her symptoms intensified, and a deep wheezing sound echoed in her cough and her white skin took on a reddish pallor of fever.

Echozar awoke one morning, hearing Anya's cough becoming much, much worse. Her breathing was rapid and wheezy, and her fever-red pallor had become an angry, fiery hue. He gripped her hand, rigid with fear, calling her name. She made no response at all.

It took everything he had not to fight panic as he drew the heavy furs over her limp, prone form and went to get Ayla. An icy fear hit the pit of his stomach, he suddenly understood that this was much, much worse than it first appeared.

"Does she not even know I am there?" he cried out to Ayla in distress, when the medicine woman came to examine her.

Ayla shook her head. "I do not know that," She murmured somberly. "What I fear now is that she is now too weak to go on carrying a baby. She can hardly get enough air, and precious energy is wasted on her cough as she fights to breathe. Her fever takes even more of her energy and willpower." Ayla turned white as she forced herself to say the dreaded words. It was the hardest thing she had ever been forced to admit. "I did not want this to happen, I prayed it would not, but unless by some miracle she recovers, it is too dangerous to continue her pregnancy. She must lose the baby, Echozar. If she doesn't, she will die in this condition. What little nourishment she gets down her the baby takes, she gets nothing. I am sorry, Echozar, I think she might have to lose it; if Anya recovers, she can have another baby."

"There is no other way?" he whispered, shocked to his toes and yet, not really surprised. It had bee one of his worst fears. They were confirmed when Ayla shook her head. "I am sorry, Echozar. I can think of no other way. Even if I don't, she's so weak she could....lose the baby anyway, and bleed to death....because....she won't have the strength to...to clot properly."

"I can't lose her," he choked miserably. "I already lost my Joplaya, I cannot lose Anya, too." His heart twisted at the thought, and the painful love on his face was obvious. It caused a chill of recognition to run down Ayla's spine; she knew that Anya was Echozar's second chance. If she died, Ayla did not doubt that he would follow her to the next world. It would be too much for him to remain, to go through that grief a second time.

"Then I will prepare the herbs to make her lose the baby," Ayla whispered, rising and her heart breaking for her daughter, evident in the sheer agony in her eyes and the tears running down her face. She did not care about them--her daughter was going to have to give up a human life, one of the most painful things a woman could face. "That is, with your consent. Anya's too out of it to make her own objections."

"Do it, if it will save Anya," he pleaded softly. "I only pray to Doni that she lives, and that by some miracle, she can recover and keep the baby also."

****

"I cannot get this down her throat!" Ayla whispered impatiently. "Echozar, hold her down. This is for her own good. Without it, she'll surely die."

Tears poured down his face as he moved to obey her. In that cup held the destiny of the child he would never get to know; it seemed so unfair. He had lost so many loved ones; but the thought of losing Anya too was too much to bear. He moved into position, forcing Anya down so the deadly concoction could be administered....he could do this, but not without the tears streaming down his face as he forced himself to endure the pain of loss yet again.

Anya choked violently as the bitter dregs were forced down her throat. She gasped, wheezing, as the vile substance hit her stomach and churned there, all at once forcing her to a desperate awareness.

She jerked, and her eyes flew open, a sudden, if vague, awareness in them. Before they could stop her, she started to gag, the nausea from the vile liquid overpowering her. Somehow, she managed to make it to her feet and stumble towards the cave entrance, in a sudden burst of strength nobody realized she posessed.

Again, outside, she threw up the bitter concotion, not even knowing what had been forced down her throat until she tasted the rancid feeling in her mouth and recognized the herbs used to make it.

"No!" she shrieked over the howls of the winter winds. "Momma, I won't let you! I won't let you take my baby from me!"

"Anya, you're awake!" It was Echozar's own cry, of relief this time, as he followed her outside. She was shivering, bluish again, but her blue eyes were spitting fire and awareness, and an understandable anger and defiance. But she could not remian out here,she was still ravaged with a fever and very sick, too much movement would easily slip her back into her coma and kill her.

She struggled, albeit weakly, all the while protesting against losing her baby. Finally, he picked her up and carried her sobbing form back to her furs, comforting her as he whispered to Ayla, "Was that concoction in her stomach long enough to take any effect?"

"No," Ayla whispered. "She won't cooperate on her own, Echozar. Waking up is the best thing she could have done, it is a favorable indication she will recover at last. But she won't let me give her the drugs now. I fear she will be upset at me for a long time."

"How could you, Momma!" Anya choked through her sobs. "Y-you tried to make me miscarry!" Her blue eyes spit an accusing glance in Ayla's direction. Ayla had never seen her so angry.

"Anya, in your condition, you will die if you don't take the drug!" Ayla snapped, her heart twisting at the thought of Anya angry with her. "Your baby is making you too weak. You've had pneumonia."

"If I am awake now, I will recover!" Anya stubbornly insisted, tears streaming from her eyes as she crossed her thin arms protectively over her abdomen. "I will not lose my baby! Momma, you fought so hard to keep Durc, please understand! How can you not? Unless I miscarry on my own, I will have this baby! I will not let you take my baby from me!"

"Anya, I am sorry to put you through this," Ayla quivered, tears in her own flint-colored eyes. "I cannot bear the thought of losing another child. I've lost too many. I was trying to save you before you died. I *won't* lose you!!!"

It brought Anya up short as a chill ran down her back. As fast as her anger had flared, it was gone. She abruptly realized Ayla was right, more than she could ever understand. She gave a faint whimper as she held out her arms. Ayla moved into them, not caring if the tears were seeping down her face.

"I understand, Momma," Anya quivered. "I am sorry, too. You were trying to help save me--truly, I would not have it any other way. Just promise me," she pulled back hesistantly, "promise me, though, you won't try and give me the drug again. I won't take it unless it's a last-ditch effort to save my own life. I want this baby. Promise."

Ayla nodded. "I swear on Doni's honor. But Anya, if it comes to a final decision, you or the baby--it will be you chosen, understand? And you are so weak, it is not likely you will keep the baby anyway."

Anya nodded faintly as she felt Echozar's arms about her. She understood now that Ayla was right about keeping her alive. Anya did not want to leave her mate behind on this cold world without her at his side. She would not have it. But she was going to keep her baby, too, if she possibly could.

****

At last, it seemed to be the turning point. Anya still lost her stomach frequently, but it was not as often, and enough for her to keep food down. Never again did Ayla attempt to make her lose the baby; she was grateful that the morning sickness was abating at last.

Anya's recovery from pneumonia was slower; but steady. Her cough lingered, and she felt tired constantly, but as she was able to keep more food down, her strength began to return and color slowly returned to her waxy-hued skin, and she began to lose the gauntness that had almost killed her.

After the next blizzard had howled itself out; Anya was surprised to hear a stomping at the Cave entrance. She blinked in surprise to see Durc and Uba, of all people, requesting permission to enter.

"Of course," gestured Joharran, coming over quickly. "Come in, and warm yourselves. You must be almost frozen."

"It was not that bad," insisted Durc, a man who could not lie. Clan bodies were more used to cold than bodies of the Others. "Uba wanted to check on the daughter of her sister; word had reached us she was dying, and possibly losing her baby."

"You may go to Anya's Hearth," Joharran agreed, "However, I am pleased to report Anya is on the way to recovery."

Uba ducked her head in acknolwedgement as Durc simply nodded. By now, the need for translation was less, for both individuals had been exposed to the Zelandonii language enough to have grasped a basic concept.

Anya and Ayla both gestured their welcome; for it had been many weeks since Durc or Uba had seen sister, niece, or mother.

Uba went directly to Anya and pushed a pouch of willow bark into her hands. "Since you are recovering, I doubt if you will need much more than this, by now," she gestured. "It also will not harm the baby you are carrying."

"It is appreciated," Anya acknowledged, deferring to the Clan custom of having no concept of 'thank you'. "This woman will use it to help her cough, and when she does, she will remember the generosity of the sister of her mother."

"There is something else I wished to mention," said Durc, raising his hand for attention. "During the lull between the last storm and this one, a Runner came to our cave to request permission for his Clan to stay with us as they did some extra hunting and fishing. Their Cave is not in a favorable location, and they wish to lay in extra supplies this next summer. They were frankely surprised to learn there was a Clan living in the territory of the Others."

"I don't see any problem with that," Anya mused. "As long as they abide by the standards our two groups have set up so we coexist peacefully. I don't want them overreacting when they see me hunt, or a woman not being subservient to a man."

"We did not get to that part," conceded Durc. "That is something that will be addressed, but I would not want any conflict between our peoples. It will be even more difficult once they learn of your totem, Anya, and your standing in the Clan and of the Others."

"When will they be coming?" she inquired. "Spring?"

"Early spring," he confirmed. "And they will stay through the summer, if nothing goes wrong. I hope they don't get too uneasy because of your 'summer meeting'."

Anya's eyes widened, and she looked thoughtful. She gestured Durc closer and privately gestured, "And what of the Root Ceremony that I know you saw last summer? If they see that--"

"Are you planning to do it again?" he signed silently. "Broud still does not know. We did not think he could handle it."

"He must learn to accept it, it is the will of the spirits," Anya signed firmly. "It goes against Clan tradition, I understand that. But that specific ceremony is a woman's ceremony of the Others. Men cannot do it, except with female guidance, since woman have the greater spirit control. With luck, hopefully my baby will be born by then, so I can participate. Momma--" Anya suddenly rememberd something. "Are you planning to do it again this next summer?"

Ayla blinked, then sighed. "I have never gotten over my fear of doing so," she whispered, going pale. "I never will. But yes, I plan to do so. It is the way of the spirits that I do this every year I am able to do so."

Then it looks like we have a lot to prepare for," mused Durc. "I hope everything goes well."

"For the sake of peace between our groups, I hope so to," Anya answered. "I pray to Ursus and the Mother it does."

****

"Anya, don't work so hard!" said Ayla disapprovingly as her daughter crouched, exhausted, over a hide she was scraping. "You seem to constantly forget you are carrying a baby, and your health has been too fragile as it is."

"I have *got* to fashion some new clothes," Anya groused stubbornly. "I can hardly fit into my other ones, and since my nausea stopped, my weight has been coming back." She laid her hand on her swelling abdomen to prove her point. At four and a half months, she was showing quite clearly by now.

"That doesn't mean all your strength is back," Ayla reminded her. "Why don't you leave the scraping to me? Before long, you will be too big in the middle to scrape anyways."

"You have the twins you are caring for," Anya reminded her. "Do you have time to scrape my hides and yours?"

"Marthona likes to babysit the children of her son's hearth," Ayla answered with a smile. "In fact, almost too much. I will see what can be done. You will have your hands full making clothing that will be able to accomodate your swelling abdomen. And besides, spring is almost here, I think that you will be itching to go outdoors soon."

"I want to *hunt*," Anya groused. "And don't think of stopping me. At least I won't be throwing myself into the middle of any bison hunts."

Ayla laughed at that. "Well, you drove me crazy trying to protect me," she answered. "This summer, you are about to get a taste of your own medicine. I am going to be after you to be careful until your strength is completely back--and to make sure you don't do anything dangerous. Fair's fair."

Anya slapped her forehead with her hand. "And if it is anything like you say I put you through, you will make me miserable," she groused.

"Precisely."

****

At last, the Mother deemed that it was time for life to renew itself. Spring came upon the territory of the Zelandonii with a rush. One day, the surrounding land was thick with snow, the next, new green shoots were poking up out of the Earth and the sun cast warmer rays upon the land.

The new warmth fuled Anya's driving desire to get outside again. Though still a pale pallor from lacking her winter tan, she felt much more vigorous than she had been. Clad in one of the new outfits that could accomodate her burgening frame, she donned her gathering basket and her sling, determined to find something besides the winter fare the Zelandonii had been living on all winter. Her palate was starved for fresh foods and greens.

Ayla, seeing this, decided to join her. "Some of my herbs are getting low," she said by way of explanation. "A few of the early spring plants should be up by now. And with the wave of spring colds getting underway, I want to be prepared."

"I don't need to get sick again," Anya mused as she accepted Iza into her arms. Taking the baby's sling, she tied it around her so the baby could be cradled comfortably against her chest. Her mother did the same with Creb, and as the twins slept peacefully in the makeshift carriers, they started off. "That was a fierce test my totem put me through. I am glad the spirits saw fit to let me keep my baby. This child is a powerful kicker, so I think he or she is healthy."

"Powerful totems are never easy to live with," Ayla agreed. "Maybe your reward for sticking in there is a healthy baby. So, what do you want, a boy or girl?"

"It doesn't really matter to me," Anya answered. "A girl would be nice, to carry on our new line of medicine women. A fine, strong boy would also be great."

Ayla, however, was looking past her, and not paying attention. Anya followed her mother's gaze to see a group of Clan women emerging from their Cave, also adorned with gathering baskets.

"It seems like everyone has the same idea today," Anya remarked to her mother. "Looks like we will have some company."

The Clan women noticed them about the same time, and gestured greetings as they fell into step with the two women. Uba, Iga, Ika, and Igra were there, and once greetings were over with, they were informed more women would be out scouring the plains soon.

"We have to prepare," signed Iga as she spotted some early cattail plants and went to pull them. "With the other Clan joining us this year, we need extra supplies on hand. We will be feeding twice as many people."

Anya nodded, remembering Ayla telling her Clan always took care of their own.

"There are a lot more Clan in this region than the reigon where I grew up," Ayla remarked as her son started to fuss with hunger. She adjusted her carrying cloak so she could open up a special flap in front of her tunic, so he could nurse comfortably. "Have they accepted the idea you live in Zelandonii territory?"

"For the most part, that is what I understand," Uba gestured. "But it will take some explaining to them to accept some other things. We haven't had much contact, really, they are just coming."

"They especially must be made to understand about the cave bear that lives around here," Igra motioned. "They cannot kill him since he represents your totem, Anya. However, he will make an anstonishing spectacle should he come around during the time, and you ride him!"

"In my shape?" Anya asked, bemused. "I would never hear the end of it."

The women traveled on, stuffing their baskets with the new shoots and plants. Anya found some early Golden Thread, and she had to smile bitterly at the irony.

*Now is a good time,* she thought ruefully. *It is a little late for it to be used for anything but cuts and stings.*

She gathered it up, though. Ayla certainly intended to make good use of it, since she was getting older, and bearing children might become harder. Anya wondered if the twins would really be the last; Ayla could just be getting on a roll as her middle years began to approach her. She could go on bearing children for a good....ten or twelve years yet, Anya figured.

*Sure,* Anya mused. *More kids. Not that I care to babysit full-time, especially with one of my own on the way.*

Her thoughts were distracted when baby Iza began to fuss her own hunger pangs. Now that her brother had nursed, Anya was glad to take him--Iza's stomach upset rather easily.

"Just wait," Ayla threatened good-naturedly. "You will find out in another four months what it feels to have a baby throw up and mess on you all the time."

"I already *know* that," Anya retorted. "I just prefer you to handle the problem. And don't forget you have double the trouble."

The Clan women listened, amusement in their eyes. By now, they understood much of the spoken language of the Others, though Broud had not encouraged it. They were smart enough to keep their ears open and their hands still, quietly listening and understanding for themselves what the strange word-sounds of the Zelandonii meant in relation to Clan language, although Durc's family were the only ones who could speak the language with their mouths by any degree.

Anya started up a small hill, intent on going after the cherry bark from the trees near the top. Cherry bark was a useful spring tonic. She found a good cherry tree and was about to stip the sides when a certain plant caught her eye.

A chill ran down her spine, the way it usually did when she found this particular rare plant. It was the root of spirit magic, the one she had used the previous summer to travel to the spirit world with Zelandoni.

Anya still recalled her terror, and yet her intrigue. Her mother had been the first woman to travel the realm in untold mellennia, she was still terrified of the place and Anya feared she always would be. Anya wanted to go again, despite the risks. Hopefully, her baby would be born by then, otherwise she would not be able to go.

This was the most sacred plant she knew of, only a true Medicine Woman could know it's secrets. Not even Zelandoni knew. Although in the Clan, only men used it, by tradition only a medicine woman knew how to prepare it. It was something a man could not take from a medicine woman, it was one of the few things she would be able to hold over them.

So, without further ado, Anya bent over, as inconspicously as possible, and dug the root from the ground, stashing it underneath some other herbs so as to not be seen. It was too sacred.

Things were silent for awhile longer as the women continued to gather herbs. They gathered with great gusto, dreaming of the good meals they could actually make with these. No more unflavored meat, they hoped. And if the spirits smiled on them today, fresh meat as well.

The slience was broken, however, by the snapping of twigs. The whole group looked up in surprise to see another group of Clan, these people total strangers, approaching. It seemed everyone had the same idea today, to do foraging, gathering, and hunting, for this group consisted of Clan women, a few children, and were flanked with a few hunters for protection.

The presence of hunters made Anya recall that, while things were generally quiet now between the Clan and the Others, there were still a few runaway renegades that insisted on harassing Clan members. She hoped that the hunters were not here because there had been trouble.

The coming group spotted them in due course, stopping in surprise. For a moment, the two people could only stare, though Anya was not unaware of one of the hunter's hands tightening on his bola.

The eyes of Anya, Ayla, and Uba met simultaneously, and they shared the same thought. Diffuse the situation, if possible. Even though it would be unusual for a Clan woman to be so forward, their group had no men among them, so they had no choice.

All three women went forward, cautiously, and knelt Clan-fashion before the lead hunter of the unknown group, respectfully awaiting his getting over surprise to acknowledge them--if he chose.

**** IP: Logged Sharon board regular posted 12 September 2000 18:14

The hunter stayed still, quite surprised and suspicious. Who would not be? One was a Clan woman with foreign Clan features that suggested she had come from very far away. Two were women of the Others, each carrying a strange-looking baby and one was obviously pregnant. There were other Clan women in the background. What sort of spirit trickery was this?

All three women, though, stayed patiently bowed in the gesture of permission for a woman to talk to a man. Finally, to diffuse the situation, he leaned over and tapped Uba on the shoulder. She looked up in acknowledgement, fleetingly meeting his eyes in proper Clan response.

I assume there is an important reason for a woman of the Clan to be associating so closely with women of the others," he gestured, still clearly suspicious. He was suspicious enough that he did not bother with formalities, and reminded Ayla strongly of Broud as an impudent youth.

"This woman did not mean to draw suspicion," Uba gestured formally in the ancient Clan language they all knew. "This woman has a close friendship and kinship with these women of the Others. They can also claim to be Clan, by adoption."

"I have heard of no Clan that has adopted women of the Others," he gestured, although he knew very well a Clan person could not lie and he could discern no untruth out of Uba.

"This woman's Clan is not from this reigon," Uba explained, her head bowed in subservience. "We come from a reigon far to the east of here. We had lost our home many years before, when the earth spirits shook, and had been on the move ever since. We now live in a Cave in the territory of the Others, and associate with them frequently."

The man turned his critically studying gaze upon the two tow-headed women, each carrying an infant, one pregnant, and acting in the manner of Clan women. Out of respect, both kept their heads bowed.

"So it was your group that was rescued by a woman of the Others?" he gestured, relaxing just slightly. Uba gestured in the affirmative.

"How do these women, then, know the posture of the proper Clan women?" he asked. "Did they learn it from your Clan?"

"The older woman, her name being Ayla, grew up among our Clan many years ago, when we lived out east," Uba explained. "She....left, and traveled far with the man of the Others she had mated. The younger woman is her daughter, and she was also taught both Clan ways and ways of the Others, our customs and our language."

"And you are saying they are both Clan women, then," he continued.

"Yes," she signed. She was telling the truth, he deduced.

"Are they good Clan women? Mates?"

"They can act that way," Uba signed, a bit uncomfortably. "But they are also women of the OThers. They live with them. They are medicine women, like this woman is medicine woman to her Clan. Ayla was trained by my mother, a medicine woman of an ancient line," there was a hint of pride in the subtleness of her gestures now.

"Who was your mother, woman?"

"Her name was Iza. Her siblings also held high status, known throughout many Clans."

"What are the names of these siblings, if they are so important?"

"Brun is the former leader of my Clan. His older sibling was a Mog-Ur, with one eye...."

The man straightened in utter shock, unable to keep the surprise out of his gestures or his voice as he slipped back into his everyday language in his astonishment. "Mogor One-Eye! You are kin to Mogor-One-Eye?!"

"He was the sibling of my mother. I grew up at his hearth in my childhood. So did Ayla, until he chose to walk the path of the spirits many years ago." Uba's pride increased further.

"After all these years, there is talk of the legendary Mogor One-Eye. And he had a respected Medicine Woman of an ancient line as his sibling." The man suddenly relaxed completely, and made an apologetic gesture.

"Respected Medicine Woman, this man would dare to apologize for his suspicion. This man's name is Zoug, leader of his Clan. Your group is the Clan the runner of my Clan had come to request sharing your Cave for the summer, so we could gather supplies for this next winter. Our Cave is not in a favorable location."

"This woman is called Uba. She greets the leader," Uba gestured respectfuly.

Ayla and Anya hunkered down further, requesting permission to speak. Zoug, relaxed now, leaned down and tapped their shoulders.

"This woman, as Uba told you, is called Ayla," she gestured upon rising, and Zoug got a good look at her ugly flat face and followed it upwards....and upwards, as she towered over him. Her flint-colored eyes were even more unusual.

"This woman is called Anya," her daughter gestured, struggling ungainly to her feet, her stomach being the cause. "We are both medicine women. This woman's mother trained her after she left the Clan."

"It is an honor to be in the presence of so many medicine women," he had to acknowledge. "But why did you leave the Clan, Ayla?"

Ayla, Uba, and Anya suddenly paused. How could they tell him? They could not lie, he would detect it immediately, and the Clan did not lie. And covering up something so important he would also detect.

Finally, Ayla drew a deep breath. "This woman was death-cursed in an incident that, many years ago, was blamed on her unjustly."

His head jerked in surprise. Death-cursed? She was a spirit? Custom would have dicated that he turn his back then and there, but Uba gestured frantically for his attention.

"The woman's death curse has been lifted, though it lasted many years. She lives again," she was swift to assure this leader.

He sighed, but still looked bewildered. "Well, you cannot lie, but I would like hearing the whole story from your leader sometime, especially since we are to stay with you this summer. Now, my women must do some foraging, we almost did not survive the winter because the location of our Cave is a poor one. There is also the matter that I have come to understand your group of Others also gathers with other groups every summer, as well."

He made an "It is safe," signal to the women, telling them it was safe for them to forage in this glade of plenty. They moved in without another word.

"Your Cave is nearby?" asked Zoug to Uba.

"Yes, a short walk through the forest, along the stream, should get you there," Uba answered. "Our leader, Broud, will greet you himself if he is back from meeting with the leader of the Others, Joharran."

Zoug nodded thoughtfully as he wandered off, deep in thought. What a strange tale he would have to tell! It reminded him of a tale he had heard in his boyhood, of a man named Guban, and his encounter with people of the Others. The woman had yellow hair, and could 'talk' properly. The man had only a limited, but useful, ablilty with the language, but it had set in the minds of many of the Clan that perhaps the Others were not all dangerous, or stupid, as they had thought. Could Ayla be the same woman? She matched the description he had heard, tall, blonde, and ugly. But the woman he had heard about hunted, with a sling. She had saved Guban's life, it was said. This woman had no....wait, yes she did, tied to a waist-thong. A sling! So did the younger woman....they hunted. So then, how could the be Clan?

Uba said they lived with the Others, he reminded himself. No wonder they hunt. At the last Clan Gathering, you saw a woman hunting with a sling...in fact, she resembled the younger, pregnant woman. The sight had caused quite an uproar....

Finally, he just decided to put it out of his mind. He would get the full story once he met their leader.

****

A few days later, boy, did he hear it. As far as Broud knew, he had to tell the complete story of Anya and Ayla. He was a bit hesistant about admitting the younger's powerful place within his Clan.

In fact, it took some tall talking and convincing before Zoug was ready to admit that the leader of the foreign Clan was right in taking the young woman and making her an honorary Clan male, to keep her totem happy and close to the Clan spirits, where it belonged. He knew it had never been done before, at least, not for many, many eons, but somebody with the control of the spirits she obviously exerted....

"I have spoken at length with their leader, Joharran," Boud told Zoug. "Two different groups of people gathering in one place may pose a slight problem. There was not much last year since most of my people avoided the Others, and they were considerate about us. The Zelandonii will let us govern our own affairs and we will not disturb the 'summer meeting' and 'mother festival'. And you should not let the sight of how their women act shock you, and you must not let it provoke you in any way..."

Zoug readily agreed, after a time, to the finer details of things. He, too, saw the sense of peace, and readily embraced the concept. Change was just too difficult to risk war.

****

At last, summer dawned upon the world, to everyone's relief. The cool, damp spring turned into a warm, bountiful summer that showed much promise of reaping great rewards for the next winter.

Anya waddled past, heavy with child and trying to catch her seven-month-old sister, who was crawling away at a high pace and giggling with abandon. Her twin brother, not wanting to miss out on the fun, was trailing after them, his favorite piece of leather covering in his mouth and trailing underneath him, impeding his movements. When he discovered he could not keep up and keep his treasure with him, he let up a howl of protest.

"Well, Creb, then don't drag it with you," Anya admonished with as smile as she caught her sister and hefted her up onto her hip--or, at least, what passed for her hip these days. She secured the wiggling baby with her carrying cloak she had thought to snatch up, and went over to her miserable little brother, who fixed his deep violet-blue eyes on her.

Those large blue orbs were wet, but when the sister he idolized flashed him with one of her bright smiles, he forgot why he was so unhappy and cooed, holding his hands up and wiggling his tiny fingers.

Anya laughed over her discomfort as she crouched to pick him up, along with his favorite cloak, the leather he had been dragging with him and the cause of his misery. She slipped him into the other cloak with his twin and used the second cloak to make sure the double weight would not make them slip.

"There they are," said Ayla with relief, coming around the bend in the brush and finding them. "Those little rapscallions! Anya, you were the only other baby I saw more active, and those two are twice the trouble you were!"

Anya smiled ruefully as she turned and headed back for the cave entrance as quicly as her burgeoning frame could accomodate her. The twins were beginning to wiggle impatiently as they realized they were hungry. Anya could not very well feed them yet, so as soon as they got inside, twin howls voiced their displeasure at having empty tummies.

"Anya," Ayla groaned as she accepted both twins from her daughter and settled them in front of her to feed, "Promise me you won't ever have twins. I cannot imagine someone as used to freedom as you trying to care for two...or more."

"I don't think I am carrying two this time," Anya assured her mother. "I feel like someone shoved a boulder into my stomach, but I am not as big as you were."

"It could happen." Ayla studied her daughter critically. "I would say it will happen any day now that you will go into labor. Considering how troublesome your prenancy was this past winter....this will surely be a miracle baby, right?"

"You can say that again," Anya rested her arms on her stomach. "This child already survived it's first test by the Mother. He or she is well-protected. And I can hardly wait for labor to start by now. I have not seen my feet in ages, I swear."

"I know dear, any day now, it will be over," Ayla encouraged. "Just hold on. How do you think I felt those times I carried your children?"

Anya laughed as the twins stopped nursing long enough to giggle with them. They might not know what was so funny, but they could not keep the contagiousness of laughter to themselves.

****

Not long afterwards, groups of Various Zelandonii were arriving and setting up camp nearby and surprised to see yet more Clan in the nearby Cave than there had been the year before.

As promised, however, everyone kept to themselves. They knew better than to start a fight over differences in customs; it was understood that it was an area of taboo to disrespect the culture of another kind.

Not to say that certain difficulties did not present themselves, such as when the new Clan to the region first witnessed an arguement between two mates and how the woman was not in the least subserivent.

"She does not even appear docile!" exclaimed Zoug, even though he could not understand the couple's heated exchange. "Why does her mate not punish her? Can he not even control his own mate?!"

Broud only looked faintly amused, used to this by now. "That is not how the Others live. They are very different from us."

"That they allow their women to act like that?"

"Their women are equal to the men. It is how they live, and there is nothing I can do to change that."

"Have you tried pressing the issue with their leader?"

"I did try to show him the sense of it, but he did....not agree, let me put it tha tway. We have learned to live with it. It does not mean we let our won women get away with it, however."

"And all women of the Others do other things we forbid our women.....like hunt and touch weapons?"

"That is true. Nothing we can do about that, either."

Zoug only shook his head. "And they are incredibly ugly on top of it. That is such a shame."

****

Early the next morning, Anya had a very good reason to not get up and greet the newcomers that were due to arrive that day. Finally, to her relief and yet her fear, her labor started.

The first pain shot through her with such force it jerked her awake with a gasp of pain, a far cry from the twinges she had expected would start off her labor.

"Echozar!" she squeaked to the man sleeping beside her.

"What!" He jumped awake so fast it startled her into another pain. "What is it?! Is it time?!" Anya had forgotten he had been increasingly on edge as her due period had approached.

"Yes, Echozar," Anya groaned through another pain. "The baby is on....his or her...way..."

"Great Mother! I'll get Ayla! I'll boil water! I'll--I'll--"

"Just.....go get....Ayla and come...back. We have....everything ready." Anya cried out over another contraction as it seemed to tear her apart from the inside out. If it was coming this hard, it would not be a typical long first labor, of that she was certain.

Needing to move, Echozar did not hesistate. He ran outside their Hearth boundaries and stumbled towards Ayla and Jondalar's Hearth, tripping in the darkness that the faint glow of banked fires did little to penetrate.

"Ayla!" he gasped, reaching their hearth. "For Doni's sake, wake up! Anya--"

Ayla was already awake. "I know, I heard you stumbling around trying to get over here. Stop worrying, Echozar. Anya is strong, and healthy. She might be all right."

"How can I be sure? So many women die, and I won't lose her! She could just up and--"

"Echozar, go back to my hearth and sit with Jondalar for awhile. You are in bad need of fortification, and you will not get it seeing Anya in labor and your current mental state being what it is. When you have calmed down and can think rationally, *then* you can come back."

Stupefied by her scolding, he was silenced, and moved to obey without one sound. Ayla sighed with relief and hurried to her daughter's side.

She found Anya laughing weakly over another contraction. "That was smart," she gasped through her pain. "Surprising him into obeying. Remind me to try that."

Ayla smiled in response as she moved into position to examine her daughter.

"Anya!" she sounded startled. "How long have you been in labor?"

"Why?" Anya was a little too tired to think fo the reason.

"Because you're over halfway dialated! Even I did not dialate that fast with the twins!"

"About...not long, Momma. I am surprised....the first pain I felt I woke up with a little while ago, and I sent Echozar for you on the second or third one."

"First labors are rarely so fast. And they are often dangerous to rip a woman apart that quickly," Ayla said, then quickly amended her words as she took in a more detailed examination though. "Athough everyting appears sound down here, and it is too late to stop the labor, you are due."

Ayla sighed as she gripped her daughter's hand, another contration tearing through Anya like hot sharp knives. She could well sympathize with Anya's agony.

****

Echozar forced himself to be calm so he could come back, and indeed he arrived back at his hearth in a more positive frame of mood, about half an hour later. Jondalar was behind him, worry etching his brow in concern for the eldest daughter of his Hearth.

He pulled Ayla aside. "Truthfully, Ayla, is our little girl all right?"

"Her labor is unusually fast, and she may deliver within the next two hours....but she is doing wonderfully so far. I just hope her narrow hips will accomodate the baby's head."

She hurred back to Anya as the girl cried out again. "Just hang on, Anya," she soothed. "You are nearly ready, now."

"I hope so, Momma," was her daughter's tired reply.

****

"Keep pushing, Anya," encouraged Ayla patiently as her daughter struggled, beyond exhaustion, to expel the child from her body. Four long, and difficult pushes had not succeded in freeing the head as yet.

"Why is it taking so long?" Anya wailed. "I feel like I am being ripped apart here....can you see the head at all? Does it look normal?" She barely responded when Echozar, scared himself, attempted to soothe her frazzled nerves. She squeezed his hand, though, grateful he was there by her side.

"I am starting to see the head, yes," Ayla encouraged her grey-shadowed girl. "The head is a bit big, but it is finally starting to descend. Keep pushing. It will be over soon. You aren't having half as much trouble as I did when I gave birth to Durc or you."

Anya groaned and did her best not to slump over, so tired she was sure she was going to black out. The desire to push again came over her, however, and she stiffened her spine once more and bore down, determined to get this child out of her.

"Push, Anya!" she heard her mother say dimly. "The head is almost free!"

Anya gasped and stiffened again, suddenly ready and willing to push one more time. She was not sure she had the strength to go beyond that.

"Once more," Ayla kept encouraging her. "That should be all it takes."

Anya drew in a deep breath, squeezing Echozar's hand so hard he felt like she was going to snap his hard Clan bones. She bore down once more, and at last felt the tiny body slither free of the confines of her womb and into her mother's waiting hands.

Before Ayla could say anything, a lustrous, if indignant, wail filled the room.

Anya laughed weakly as she sank back, grateful to hear the baby alive. "What...is it....boy or girl?" she rasped.

"It is a girl," Ayla said proudly, holding up the dark-haired infant, covered in birth blood, for Anya to see. "She is just perfect, too."

Ayla lowered the baby to her lap, where she tied and severed the cord, then began to clean off the birth blood. She could tell this was Echozar's infant, all right, the daughter of his spirit. There was just a hint of brow ridges, so faint Ayla could only tell they were there when she ran a gentle finger over the baby's forehead. The tiny forehead rose high and full, and the back of the head rounded out like the heads of all babies born to the Others. But there was also a hint of an occipital knob back there, too, like in Clan babies, only much less developed. The baby had thin arms and legs, unlike Clan babies, and she had a long neck, unlike them, too, and a chin, although her skin was the somewhat bronzeish color of the Clan. The way she continued to squall and thrash her tiny arms and legs was enough to convince Ayla that the baby was strong and healthy.

She was smiling as she placed the baby in Anya's eagerly waiting arms. A smile of delight crossed her daughter's features as she stared, in pure wonder, at *her* daughter. Hers, her own baby. A beautiful, perfect child.

When the baby yawned, and blinked, and Anya found herself staring into eyes as deep a hue of blue as her own, her heart was stolen completely.

*She had a daughter*. A daughter to raise, love, and care for, a daughter who would one day be a fine medicine woman of the new line Ayla had started. She would be beautiful, and all the men would be crowding around, once she became a woman, asking to be her mate. Visions of the baby's future danced in front of Anya's vision, and she sensed that, somehow, Echozar was thinking the same thing. She looked up, and tears were in his eyes, mixed in with the pride and love she had expected.

"Joplaya," said Anya suddenly. "I want her to be named Joplaya. You said so once that you would always love having a Joplaya around."

"So I did," he smiled through his tears. "And not as a painful reminder, no, not in our baby, Anya." He leaned down and kissed her gently. "Joplaya it shall be. Thank you, my Donii-Woman. You are a Miracle I thank Doni every day for. And you have given me another miracle I can thank the Mother for from now on."

"This baby, Echozar, is one we can both thank the Mother for," Anya cuddled the baby close to her heart. "We are truly blessed now, and complete."