"They could have asked me. I always beat Druwez at Hoops and Darts, but they wouldn't even look at me," Latie said.
"I will show, if you want, Latie. After horses brushed," Ayla said.
Latie looked up at Ayla. She remembered the woman's surprising demonstrations with the spear-thrower and sling, and had noticed Danug smiling at her. Then a thought occurred to her. Ayla didn't try to call attention to herself, she just went ahead and did what she wanted to do, but she was so good at what she did, people had to pay attention to her.
"I would like you to show me, Ayla," she said. Then, after a pause, she asked, "How did you get so good? I mean with the spear-thrower and the sling?"
Ayla thought, then said, "I want to very much, and I practice… very much."
Talut came walking up from the direction of the river, his hair and beard wet, his eyes half closed.
"Oooh, my head," he said with an exaggerated moan.
"Talut, why did you get your head wet? In this weather, you'll get sick," Nezzie said.
"I am sick. I dunked my head in cold water to try to get rid of this headache. Oooh."
"No one forced you to drink so much. Go inside and dry off."
Ayla looked at him with concern, a little surprised that Nezzie seemed to feel so little sympathy for him. She'd had a headache and felt a little ill when she woke up, too. Was it caused by the drink? The bouza that everyone liked so well?
Whinney lifted her head and nickered, then bumped her. The ice on the horses' coats did not hurt them, though a big build-up could be heavy, but they enjoyed the brushing and the attention, and the mare had noticed that Ayla had paused, lost in thought.
"Whinney, stop that. You just want more attention, don't you?" she said, using the form of communication she usually did with the horse.
Though she'd heard it before, Latie was still a little startled by the perfect imitation of Whinney's nicker that Ayla made, and noticed the sign language now that she was more accustomed to it, though she wasn't sure she understood the gestures.
"You can talk to horses!" the girl said.
"Whinney is friend," Ayla said, saying the horse's name the way Jondalar did because the people of the Camp seemed more comfortable hearing a word rather than a whinny. "For long time, only friend." She patted the mare, then looked over the coat of the young horse and patted him. "I think enough brush. Now we get spear-thrower and go practice."
They went into the earthlodge, passing by Talut, who was looking miserable, on their way to the fourth hearth. Ayla picked up her spear-thrower and a handful of spears, and on her way out, noticed the leftover yarrow tea she had made for her morning headache. The dried flower umbel and brittle feathery leaves of the plant still clung to a stalk that had been growing near the teasel. Spicy and aromatic when fresh, the yarrow that had grown near the river was sapped of its potency by rain and sun, but it reminded her of some she had prepared and dried earlier. She had an upset stomach along with her headache, so she decided to use it as well as the willow bark.
Perhaps it would help Talut, she thought, though from the sound of his complaints she wondered if the preparation of ergot she made for particularly bad headaches might be better. That was very powerful medicine, though.
"Take this, Talut. For headache," she said on the way out. He smiled weakly, and took the cup and drank it down, not really expecting much, but glad for the sympathy which no one else seemed disposed to offer.
The blond woman and girl walked up the slope together, heading for the trampled track where the contests had been held. When they reached the level ground of the steppes, they saw that the four men who had gone up earlier were practicing at one end; they headed for the opposite end. Whinney and Racer trailed along behind. Latie smiled at the dark brown horse when he nickered at her and tossed his head. Then he settled down to graze beside his dam, while Ayla showed Latie how to cast a spear.
"Hold like this," Ayla began, holding the narrow wooden implement that was about two feet long in a horizontal position. She put the first and second fingers of her right hand into the leather loops.
"Then put spear on," she continued, resting the shaft of a spear, perhaps six feet long, in a groove cut down the length of the implement. She fitted the hook, carved as a backstop, into the butt end of the spear, being careful not to crush the feathers. Then, holding the spear steady, she pulled back and hurled it. The long free end of the spear-thrower rose up, adding length and leverage, and the spear flew with speed and force. She gave the implement to Latie.
"Like this?" the girl said, holding the spear-thrower the way Ayla had explained. "The spear rests in this groove, and I put my fingers through the loops to hold it, and put the end against this back part."
"Good. Now throw."
Latie lobbed the spear a good distance. "It's not so hard," she said, pleased with herself.
"No. Is not hard to throw spear," Ayla agreed. "Is hard to make spear go where you want."
"You mean to be accurate. Like making the dart go in the hoop."
Ayla smiled. "Yes. Need practice, to make dart go in hoop… go in the hoop." She had noticed Frebec coming up to see what the men were doing, and it suddenly made her conscious of her speech. She still wasn't speaking right. She needed to practice, too, she thought. But why should it matter? She wasn't staying.
Latie practiced while Ayla coached, and they both became so involved they didn't notice that the men had drifted in their direction and had stopped their practice to watch.
"That's good, Latie!" Jondalar called out after she had hit her mark. "You may turn out to be better than anyone! I think these boys got tired of practicing and wanted to come and watch you instead."
Danug and Druwez looked uncomfortable. There was some truth in Jondalar's teasing, but Latie's smile was radiant. "I will be better than anyone. I'm going to practice until I am," she said.
They decided they'd had enough practicing for one day, and tromped back down to the earthlodge. As they approached the tusk archway, Talut came bursting out.
"Ayla! There you are. What was in that drink you gave me?" he asked, advancing on her.
She took a step back. "Yarrow, with some alfalfa, and a little raspberry leaf, and…"
"Nezzie! Do you hear that? Find out how she makes it. It made my headache go away! I feel like a new man!" He looked around. "Nezzie?"
"She went down to the river with Rydag," Tulie said. "He seemed tired this morning, and Nezzie didn't think he should go so far. But he said he wanted to go with her… or maybe, he wanted to be with her… I'm not sure of the sign. I said I'd go down and help her carry him, or the water, back. I'm just on my way."
Tulie's remarks caught Ayla's attention for more than one reason. She felt some concern about the child, but more than that, she detected a distinct change in Tulie's attitude toward him. He was Rydag now, not just "the boy," and she spoke about what he had said. He had become a person to her.
"Well…" Talut hesitated, surprised for a moment that Nezzie wasn't in his immediate vicinity, then, reproaching himself for expecting her to be, he chuckled. "Will you tell me how to make it, Ayla?"
"Yes," she said. "I will."
He looked delighted. "If I'm going to make the bouza, then I ought to know a remedy for the morning after."
Ayla smiled. For all his size, there was something so endearing about the huge red-haired headman. She had no doubt he could be formidable if brought to anger. He was as agile and quick as he was strong, and he certainly did not lack for intelligence, but there was a gentle quality to him. He resisted anger. Though he was not averse to making a joke at someone else's expense, he laughed as often at his own foibles. He dealt with the human problems of the people with genuine concern and his compassion extended beyond his own camp.