THE SHELTERS OF STONE

"And you, too, Joharran," Jondalar said. They went through a few more simple statements, but he could tell they were not getting across the full extent of the comprehensive, if silent, language. He knew she could say more, but he couldn't translate the full complexity.

"You're just giving me basic signs, aren't you, Ayla."

"I don't think you can translate more than basic signs, Jondalar. That's all I taught the Lion Camp and you. Just enough so you could communicate with Rydag. I'm afraid the full language wouldn't mean much to you," Ayla said.

"When you showed us, Ayla," Marthona said, "you did your own translation. I think that would be more clear."

"Yes, why don't you show Brameval and the others that way, by using both languages," Jondalar suggested.

"All right, but what should I say?"

"Why don't you tell us about your life with them," Zelandoni suggested. "Do you remember when they first took you in?"

Jondalar smiled at the big woman. That was a good idea. It would not only show everyone the language, it would also show the compassion of the people, that they were willing to take in an orphan child, even a strange orphan child. It would show that the Clan treated one of ours better than we treated them.

Ayla stood for a moment, gathering her thoughts; then in both the formal sign language of the Clan and the words of the Zelandonii, she began. "I don't recall much of the beginning, but Iza often told me how she found me. They were looking for a new cave. There had been an earthquake, probably the one I still dream about. It destroyed their home, falling stones inside the cave killed several of Brun's clan, and many things were damaged. They buried their dead, then left. Even if the cave was still there, it was unlucky to stay. The spirits of their totems were unhappy there and wanted them to leave. They were traveling quickly. They needed a new home soon, not just for themselves, but because their protective Spirits needed a place where they would be content."

Though Ayla kept her voice neutral and told the story with signs and movements, the people were already caught up in her tale. To them, totems were an aspect of the Mother and they understood the disasters that the Great Earth Mother could wreak when she was not happy.

"Iza told me they were following a river when they saw carrion birds circling overhead. Brun and Grod saw me first, but passed by. They were looking for food, and would have been glad if the carrion birds had spotted prey killed by a hunting animal. They might be able to keep a four-legged hunter away long enough to take some of the meat. They thought I was dead, but they don't eat people, not even one of the Others."

There was a grace and easy flow to Ayla's movements as she spoke. She made the signs and gestures with practiced ease. "When Iza saw me lying on the ground beside the river, she stopped to look. She was a medicine woman and interested. My leg had been clawed by a big cat, she thought probably a cave lion, and the wound had festered. At first, she thought I was dead, too, but then she heard me moan, so she examined me closer and discovered that I was breathing. She asked Brun, the leader, who was her sibling, if she could take me with them. He did not forbid it."

"Good!"

"Yes!" came responses from the audience. Jondalar smiled to himself.

"Iza was pregnant at the time, but she picked me up and carried me until they made camp for the night. She wasn't sure if her medicine would work on the Others, but she knew of a case where it had before, so she decided to try. She made a poultice to draw out the infection. She carried me all the next day, too. I remember the first time I woke up and saw her face, I screamed, but she held me and comforted me. By the third day, I was able to walk a little, and by then, Iza decided I was meant to be her child."

Ayla stopped there. There was a profound silence. It was a moving story.

"How old were you?" Proleva finally asked.

"Iza told me later that she thought I could count about five years at the time. I was perhaps the age of Jaradal, or Robenan," she added, looking at Solaban.

"Did you say all that with the gestures, too?" Solaban asked. "Can they really say so much without words?"

"There is not a sign for every word I said, but they would have understood essentially the same story. Their language is more than just the motions of the hands. It is everything; even a flicker of an eyelid or a nod of the head can convey meaning."

"But with that kind of language," Jondalar added, "they cannot tell a lie. If they tried, an expression or posture would give them away. When I first met her, Ayla didn't even have a concept for saying something that is not true. She even had trouble understanding what I meant. Though she understands now, she still can't do it. Ayla can't lie. She never learned how. That's how she was raised."

"There may be more merit than one would realize in speaking without words," Marthona said quietly.