Page 223 of Circle of Days

The crowd went wild, everyone cheering and kissing and hugging. On top of the crossbar, Seft hugged Tem.

Dee kissed Joia. “You did it,” she said.

“It was a team effort.”

“But you made it happen. I’m so proud of you I think I might burst.”

They stood side by side with their arms around each other and stared at the completed trilith as the cheering went on. “I can hardly believe it,” said Joia. She thought of the years of effort that had gone into making this massive, simple symbol, and felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

They stared for a long time, and then she said: “That’s just a beautiful, beautiful sight.”

Fifteen more midwinters pass

Ani could no longer walk more than a few steps. She did not know how old she was, but Joia knew that this was her sixty-ninth midsummer. Her hair was snowy white though thick, and her face was lined, but her mind was still lively.

Seft had built her a wooden bed on which she could lie down or sit upright. Before dawn on Midsummer Day a small team came to carry her and her bed to the ceremony of the rising sun. Joia, Neen, Seft, and Ilian were the bearers, and as the sky became tinted with first light they joined the stream of villagers and visitors heading for the Monument.

The last crossbar had been raised the year before, so this would be the first Midsummer Rite in the completed Monument. It was a solemn occasion.

On the way Ani exchanged polite words with Jara, Scagga’s sister. Scagga was long dead, and Jara had taken his place as the troublesome member of the elders.

Joia had been looking forward to the moment when her mother saw the completed Monument, with its ring of thirty uprights andthirty crossbars linked in a continuous circle. Now, as they passed through the entrance, Ani’s face was the best reward. She was astonished and overjoyed, Joia could see. Joia looked at Seft and they both smiled proudly.

The original oval of five triliths was now completely surrounded by a majestic circle of thirty uprights topped by thirty crossbars, the crossbars forming a continuous ring. Travelers even from unknown lands across the Great Sea were amazed by it, and said there was nothing like it in the known world.

As in the old timber Monument, one upright represented a twelve-day week. The difference was that these could not be burned or knocked over. They would always be there to enable the priestesses, and through them the people of the Great Plain, to know the days of the year. These stones seemed to be eternal.

Today’s reverent crowd was the biggest ever, even though this would be the first midsummer for many years when there was no holy mission, no march to Stony Valley, no need to spend days hauling giant stones. Visitors came in their thousands just to see the Monument.

The four bearers set Ani’s bed down in a place with a good view. Joia bent to kiss her, and Ani hugged her and said: “I’m so glad I lived to see this.”

Neen hugged Seft. Joia heard her say: “You did this, Seft—you and my sister. I’m so proud of you both.”

Joia kissed Ani again, then hurried away to join Dee and the other priestesses in the ceremony.

Pia and Duff brought Pia’s son, Olin, to the Rite. He had now seen twenty midsummers, and he was tall, like his long-dead father, Han, with the same massive feet. He was handsome, too, and popular with girls. It was surprising to Pia that he had not yet fathered a child, but it would not be long now.

Olin’s fond stepfather, Duff, was different physically, being small and wiry, but Pia was often struck by how Olin had picked up Duff’s attitudes and mannerisms. He liked to have his hair cut short, so that it did not bother him, and he had a waving-away hand gesture that was the exact copy of Duff’s dismissal of anything boring or irrelevant.

Duff was still the Big Man of Farmplace, and he and Pia made every decision together. Their biggest problem was land. The farmers always needed more. Pia sought out patches of fertile soil and copses that were too small to maintain a tribe of woodlanders. But she always talked to the Riverbend elders before plowing new land. The elders usually gave their consent, but the asking was important for good relations. If Pia knew anything, it was that war between farmers and herders was disastrous for farmers.

Their relaxation of the rules about women had done nothing but good. The farmer women had worked long, hard days for many years, but gradually their sons had grown tall and strong and had fathered sons of their own, and now men and women shared the ownership and the work of a farm, and no one was forced unwillingly into a partnership. Pia sometimes wondered how the cruel system so beloved of Troon had ever come into being.

The light in the sky brightened, and the crowd quieted. The Rite was about to begin.

The priestesses were ready. Joia had woven oxeye daisies into the curls of Dee’s hair, and Dee looked more beautiful than ever.

The priestesshood had become larger as the stone Monument had grown, and now there were a hundred priestesses. One of them was Lim, a toddler when her parents were killed by the farmers, now a beautiful young woman.

Joia had taught all the newcomers to sing in unison and dance in formation, and the ceremonies were more spectacular than ever.

Now they came into the Monument, dancing and singing, and the crowd watched in quiet fascination. They danced around the outer circle then the inner oval, honoring each individual stone by naming its number in song. Then they knelt on the ground in pairs, facing northeast, staring at the sky through the trilith that would frame the sun. They sang louder as the heavens turned rose-colored.

At last the edge of the sun appeared on the horizon. Slowly it went higher, and its light turned the beautiful grey stones pink. Almost all of the red disc was now visible. Then at last the sun broke free of the horizon, and the priestesses fell silent.

The sun was up, and all was well.