Page 25 of Circle of Days

“What are you doing?” he said, then he answered his own question. “Deciding where to cremate him. I’m not surprised. When I saw him yesterday, I knew it wouldn’t be long. You’ll be busy today, but get back to work tomorrow, without fail.”

Yana said: “You’d better tell Katch. She’s his sister, and she’ll tell the other relatives.

” Katch was Troon’s woman. That was how Pia came to be cousin to the unpleasant Stam.

Katch herself was likable, though under Troon’s thumb.

Yana continued: “That will save me time, and I might even be able to return to watering this afternoon. I expect Troon would like that, wouldn’t he, Shen? ”

Shen did not like to be told what to do. “I’ll tell her if I see her,” he said, and he went off.

Yana and Pia went to the wood and picked up armfuls of dry twigs for the pyre.

They carried them down to the oak tree, but they needed more.

Next time they arrived at the tree two other people were there.

One was Katch. The other was a boy a few years older than Pia called Duff, who said: “My deepest sympathy, Pia and Yana.”

“And mine,” said Katch.

“Thank you.”

Katch and Duff helped to collect dry logs and the job was soon done.

Yana, Pia, and Katch went back to the house and picked up Alno’s corpse. Walking side by side, holding the body in their arms, they carried him to the pyre. Pia scattered wildflowers on him.

It was midday. People began to arrive: Alno’s kin and Yana’s, Pia’s friend Mo, and a surprising number of others, all women.

Yana nodded to Katch, who lit a torch.

Yana stood up and spoke to her dead man.

“We should have had many more years. We should have grown old and grey with one another for company. If you had died in old age, I could have said I was lucky, to have had you for so long. But now I have to go on without you.” Her voice broke down, and she said in a whisper: “Without you.”

She took the torch from Katch and held it to the pyre. The dry wood caught quickly and blazed up. Someone began the funeral song, and everyone joined in. Then they all sat quietly around the pyre, remembering the kind man with the ready smile, as the body slowly burned to ash and fragments of bone.

Katch opened a small basket and produced cakes she had made with grain and milk, and they ate.

When at last the fire went out, Katch, who had thought of everything, produced a wooden shovel and handed it to Yana.

The mourners began the song of the dead, asking the spirit of the river to welcome the ashes of their loved one.

Yana picked up some of the remains and scattered them in the river.

She handed the shovel to Pia, who did the same, hardly able to see through her tears.

One by one, each of the crowd performed the ritual, until a light breeze blew the remaining ashes away, and the song came to an end.

The sun began to set. In the sad half-light of dusk the mourners separated, moving away, each with their own thoughts about life and death, and returned to their homes for the little death that is sleep.

Next day, Pia and Yana returned to watering.

Pia thought about the cremation while she did the tedious work.

She had been surprised at how many people had shown up.

She had not known that her father was so well-liked.

But perhaps they had come for her mother’s sake.

Yana was popular among farmer women for the way she stood up to Troon.

At midmorning Pia noticed two men apparently surveying their fields. She screwed up her eyes against the sun and said: “The shorter one is Troon.”

Yana nodded. “And the tall one is Stam.”

Pia was surprised. “How he’s sprouted!” She had not seen him for a while. “He’s only seen thirteen midsummers.”

“Boys do that at a certain age. It doesn’t make them men.”

“I wonder what they want.”

“Oh, I know,” said Yana.

“What?”

“You’ll see.”

The two women put down their pots and walked across the fields to where the visitors stood in the shade of an elm tree.

Although Troon was short he was wiry, and looked menacingly strong.

Stam was taller by a head and neck. He had only one ear, the other apparently having been violently cut off, leaving a hole surrounded by the lumpy remains.

People said Troon had cut off his son’s ear as a punishment for some misbehavior, but Pia did not know whether that was true, and could hardly believe it, even of Troon.

Troon said: “My deepest sympathy to you both.”

Stam added mechanically: “And mine.”

Yana said briskly: “My man died after breathing smoke from the fire on the Break—a fire caused by your foolish feud with the herders. If you want to make amends, stop fighting the herders.”

“Never mind about that. I’ve come to tell you that you must find another man immediately.”

Among the farmer folk a woman could not own property, so Yana could not inherit Alno’s farm. It was a widow’s duty to find another man to run the farm with her. Pia’s mind had been so possessed by grief that she had not thought of this.

Now she recalled that if a widow failed to find a man within a year, the Big Man would choose one for her.

Yana said: “I’m aware of that, Troon, and I thank you for the reminder. However, according to custom I have a year to look for the right man.”

“Normally, yes.”

Yana stiffened. “What do you mean, normally ?”

“There’s a drought. We’re starving. We can’t allow a good farm such as this, right near the water, to be run by a woman and a child when we so badly need its crops.”

“Pia and I can run the farm perfectly well.”

“I came here this morning to have a good look. This farm is too big for you. You must have a man.”

“And I will, within a year.”

He shook his head. “I can’t risk this summer’s harvest.”

Yana was indignant. “You don’t have the right to make that decision!”

“Of course I do, in an emergency.”

“No, no. There’s no precedent. No previous Big Man has claimed emergency powers in my lifetime.”

“Nor in mine. But there has not been a drought this bad in our lifetimes. You have seven days to get a man.”

Yana was shocked. “I can’t team up with a man for life in such a short time!”

“If you don’t, I will choose someone for you.”

“This is wrong, and you know it.”

Troon ignored that. “And don’t think of running away,” he said. “We’ll come and get you, wherever you go. So you’d better start looking today.” With that he turned and walked away, and Stam followed him.

Pia said: “This is outrageous. He can’t do it.”

Yana said: “The trouble is, I think he can.”

Bort’s farm was some distance from the river, on the new land in the Break that had been plowed up ten years ago.

The farm was small but Bort also had half a dozen cattle.

His woman had died and he now farmed with his son, Deg.

Yana and Pia found father and son bringing water from the river, like every other farmer.

It was six days since Troon’s ultimatum.

Yana, with the help of Pia and Katch, had considered every family in the farmer community.

Many men were left single when a woman died in childbirth, but they did not remain single for long.

Duff was single, but he had his hands full running his Aunt Uda’s farm.

Yana had found only one possibility, and with great reluctance she had settled on Bort.

He was neither tall nor short, neither handsome nor ugly. He had thinning brown hair and a wispy beard. There was nothing at all to admire about him, Pia thought dismally: he was not charming, nor intelligent, nor even just likable. Yana would never love him. But she would have him. She had to.

He was surprised to see them, but quite pleased, which Pia thought was a good sign.

Yana began by saying: “It’s a hard pull from the river to your farm.”

“That’s the truth,” Bort said.

“A lot less at my place.”

Bort looked disapproving, and Pia realized her mother had made a mistake. The farm was not Yana’s. Bort reminded her of that by saying: “I was sorry to hear that Alno died.”

“Thank you.”

“I suppose that’s why you’ve come to see me.”

Yana did not answer directly. “Shall we sit down?” They moved into the shade of a hawthorn tree in pale-pink blossom. They sat. Clearly Bort was not going to offer them so much as a drink of water.

Yana pointed to Bort’s son, Deg, who had not said a word so far. She said: “Deg must have seen twenty midsummers.”

“Twenty-one come this midsummer,” Bort said, stating the obvious.

“Soon he’ll want to settle with a woman, and together they will run this farm. But it doesn’t need three. Now, my Pia’s younger than Deg, but it won’t be long before she wants a man and a place of her own. So there’s an empty space for a man on my farm.”

Bort said: “You’re offering this to me.”

“Yes. It’s good land, close to the river, and when the drought ends it will give rich harvests. It can be yours.”

“And sex too, I presume?”

“If you wish.”

“You don’t sound enthusiastic.”

Pia almost laughed. Who could be enthusiastic about sex with this mediocrity?

Yana said to Bort: “I’d be guided by what you want.”

“A good principle for a woman to follow.”

Pia almost hoped he would refuse Yana. Her mother could never even like this man, let alone love him. But she needed him.

Bort said: “I’d say I’m flattered but, thinking about it, there isn’t really another man available, is there?”

There was not, but Yana tactfully did not say so.

Bort said: “Deg, what do you think?”

Pia began to worry. Bort had not eagerly jumped at the opportunity he was being offered. In itself that was surprising. A bigger and better farm, plus an attractive woman younger than him by about ten midsummers: what did he need to think about?

Deg pondered for a while, then said: “It’s up to you really, Father.”

Bort turned to Pia. “And what about you, young woman? Do you have an opinion about this?”