Page 26 of Circle of Days

“I hope you accept, Bort,” she said. “I won’t be living with Mamma forever, and when I leave I’ll be glad you’re there to look after her.” She had never in her life uttered such an insincere sentence.

“Well, then, I must decide,” said Bort.

Pia realized that Bort was enjoying this. Perhaps it was nice to be in demand.

He paused, then at last said: “I’m saying no.”

Pia did not know whether to be glad or sorry. Her mother looked equally ambivalent.

Bort went on: “I don’t want a different farm and a new woman, or any other changes in my life. I plan to work on this farm until Deg brings home a woman, and then I’ll continue to work here but not so hard.”

It could be a long time before the milk-and-water Deg brought a woman home, Pia guessed.

“I don’t know how old I am, but in any case I’m ready for a rest,” Bort went on. “So I’ll stay here.”

Yana got to her feet, and Pia did the same. Both put a brave face on their rejection. Yana said: “Thank you for listening to me, Bort, and I wish you and Deg well for the future.” She turned and left, and Pia followed.

When they were out of earshot, Yana said: “What a humiliation, to be rejected by someone so unattractive!”

Pia felt that, too, but she was thinking about the consequences. “He was the only prospect,” she said. “So what happens next?”

“I don’t know,” said Yana.

They went to see Troon on the day of the deadline.

He lived in a house built of the same materials as an ordinary house but larger.

He had a lot of possessions, Pia noticed: a basketful of hazelnuts, a stack of firewood, pots with unknown contents, and shearling winter coats—made from sheepskins that had been tanned with the hair left on—hanging from wooden pegs.

He had no farm, so everything he ate or wore came from others.

If he asked you for something, it was dangerous to say no.

He was there with Stam, sitting on one of several leather floor mats. Yana and Pia sat facing them, and Troon’s woman, Katch, offered them cool water in pottery bowls. She had an anxious, embarrassed look. Pia guessed she was sympathetic to Yana but scared to defy Troon.

Yana said: “I have done my best to meet your demand. I proposed to Bort.”

“A good choice,” said Troon.

“No doubt,” said Yana, “but he turned me down. And as far as I can see, he is the only available man. So you have two options, Troon. You could order Bort to take me—”

“Not possible,” said Troon.

“But you ordered me to take someone.”

“You’re a woman. That’s different.”

“In that case we have to wait until another man becomes available. It may not be long. People are dying because of the drought.”

Pia thought this would be the best possible outcome. Her mother was still obliged to take a man, but at least there was a chance that it would be someone she liked. Troon would not be pleased, but what could he do?

However, Troon did not look like a man who had been defeated. He should have been angry—it did not take much to anger him. Not getting his way always did it.

This worried Pia. Could he possibly have another plan?

He did. Troon said: “You say Bort is the only available man. But you’re wrong.”

Yana looked startled, but said nothing.

Pia felt a chill. She did not think she and her mother—and several friends and neighbors who had helped—could have overlooked anyone.

But Troon was smugly confident. “He’s sitting right here,” he said. “My son, Stam.”

Yana’s reaction was explosive. “Stam?” she shouted. “Stam? Don’t be stupid!”

Troon looked thunderous. “I am not stupid. Stam is an available man, and you are going to partner with him whether you like it or not.”

“He’s not an available man because he’s not a man! He hasn’t yet seen fourteen midsummers. He’s a child!”

Stam was also Yana’s nephew, Pia thought; but only by marriage, so Yana could not argue that the relationship would be incestuous.

Troon said: “He’s big and strong, and a hard worker. He will surely become Big Man when I die. You should feel lucky that he wants you.”

“He’s too young even for my daughter.”

Pia said: “And too ugly.”

Troon turned a look of hate onto Pia. But he swung back and spoke to Yana. “Go to your farm now and get back to work. Shen will sit outside your house tonight, to keep you safe.”

To keep us imprisoned, Pia thought.

“Stam will come to you tomorrow at suppertime.” Troon paused for emphasis, looking directly at Yana. “And he will spend the night with you.”

Pia was enraged, but she forced herself to stay silent.

Troon went on: “And if you’re thinking of running away, think again. I will find you, wherever you go, and when I do, I will make you very, very sorry.”

It was the second time he had made this threat, and it turned Pia cold. He never made empty threats. She knew he meant it.

His vengeance would be terrible.

Walking home, Yana said to Pia: “Sometimes a Big Man can be made to change his mind.”

“I’ve never known it,” said Pia in surprise.

“The last Big Man did, once or twice, but you might not have realized. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s not unknown.”

“When it does happen, what persuades him?”

“A cry of outrage from the people.”

“I’d like to see that.”

“Remember when he got the men to plow up the Break? He waited until all the women had gone to the Midsummer Rite. Why would he trouble to hide what he was doing? He was afraid there would be an outcry. And there was a good deal of indignation, but by then it was too late, the plowing had been done.”

“And you think there might be an outcry now?”

“We must make sure of it.”

“How?”

“I’m going to talk to the women. They must realize that if he gets away with it this time it could happen again, and one of them would be the victim.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Good. In that case I want you to talk to Duff. He likes you.”

Pia had not registered this. “Does he?”

“It’s obvious, but not to you, because your mind is on Han.”

“Anyway, what do you want me to say to Duff, my overlooked admirer?”

“Ask him to talk to the men. He may be able to persuade at least some of them that what Troon is doing is wrong.”

Pia was dubious, but willing to try. “I’ll do my best.”

They split up. Pia headed for Duff’s place, at the far eastern end of the farming country.

As she walked she tried to decide what to say, but she found herself distracted by Yana’s revelation.

Duff was always pleasant and friendly, but it had never occurred to her that he might be romantically interested in her.

Yana had said Pia was too involved with Han to notice, and that was probably right.

Anyway, Duff would be keen to help.

The stream that normally ran from the wood through Duff’s fields down to South River was now dry, Pia saw with dismay.

Duff’s farm was one of the oldest. He had inherited it from an uncle.

The uncle’s woman was still alive and energetic, a small, wiry woman called Uda.

Pia found them at the edge of the wood, having a break and eating smoked pork, taking advantage of the shade of the trees.

Duff offered Pia some of his meat, and she took a small piece.

Duff was wiry like his aunt, and a contrast to Han, who was something of a giant. Duff’s frame was compact and neat. The farm was neat, too: the furrows straight, the house in good repair, and a well-behaved yellow dog sitting next to Duff, hoping for some pork.

Pia sat down with them and told the story of Troon and Stam. Duff and his Aunt Uda were gratifyingly indignant. Uda said: “Women are sometimes bullied into accepting a man they don’t love, but normally the man is more or less suitable. Stam is no more than a boy!”

“Thirteen midsummers,” Pia said. “My mother is approaching…” She showed her hands, pointed to her feet, then repeated both gestures.

Duff said: “And Stam is a thug. He gets into fights. The girls are frightened of him.”

Pia said: “My mother is going round the farms, speaking to the women, telling them what has happened. She’s hoping they will protest, knowing they could be next.”

Uda said: “I wish her luck.” She sounded neither hopeful nor pessimistic.

Pia said: “Duff, would you talk to the men? See if any of them think this is wrong.”

Duff nodded. “I will, gladly. I don’t know how much sympathy I’ll find.”

“Concentrate on men who have daughters. Point out that this could happen to them.”

“That’s a good strategy,” Duff said with a touch of admiration. “A man who’s fond of his daughter would hate to see her forced to partner with a young bully.”

Pia said: “We have until tomorrow evening. That’s when Stam is coming to… take possession.”

“In that case I’d better get started.” Duff got to his feet and wiped his hands on a leaf. “I’ll begin with my next-door neighbor.”

“Thank you,” said Pia. “You’re very kind.”

A crowd gathered outside Yana and Pia’s house the following afternoon. Most of the people were women. One of them was Pia’s friend Mo, and Pia quietly asked her: “What are they saying?”

“They’re outraged, naturally. But some of them are scared, too. They’re here, but they don’t want to offend Troon too much. Others are more robust.”

Mo was among the robust ones, Pia could guess. She was a stocky figure, with dark hair and freckles, and she was not easily intimidated. Pia said: “I suppose the really frightened ones have stayed at home.”

“Exactly.”

Shen was there, sharp-eyed, noting who was present and who was not. Troon would have a complete list tonight.

Pia noticed Bort and Deg in the crowd. They did not look the least bit embarrassed. Did they not realize the part they had played in this crisis? Of course not, she thought.

There were more men present than she had expected, and she said so to Duff.

He was cautious. “I rounded up a few supporters, but some of these here I never spoke to, and I’m not sure whose side they’re on. They might have come to back Troon.”

Pia nodded. That was what she had been afraid of. The outcome was in doubt, she realized. She was tortured by anxiety, but there was nothing more she could do.

Just as the lower edge of the sun’s disc touched the western horizon, Troon and Stam appeared across the fields. Conversation in the crowd faded to whispers as they came close.

Stam was wearing a new tunic and a bowl-shaped leather cap. Pia guessed that Katch, his mother, had made the cap. He seemed pleased with himself, but in truth the little cap on his big head made him look foolish.

As father and son approached the crowd, Troon said loudly: “Clear the way, clear the way.”

Pia felt the crowd hesitate. This was a key moment. Would they defy Troon and stand in his way?

One or two moved back, and others followed suit. Those who had not moved looked very exposed, and in ones and twos they, too, retreated. It was not immediate obedience, but it was very far from defiance, and in a few moments there was a clear passage through the crowd open to Troon and Stam.

Pia and Yana stood side by side in front of the house door.

Troon and Stam walked up to them.

Troon said to Yana: “Here is your new man.”

She said: “I don’t love this boy and I don’t want him.”

Troon said: “All the same, you must have him.”

A woman in the crowd shouted: “This is not right!” Pia thought she recognized the voice of Mo.

Troon spun around, looking for the source of the shout, but he could not pick one woman out of fifty. He shouted: “It’s right because I say it’s right.”

A man’s voice said: “Can’t the boy speak for himself?” That sounded like Duff.

Once again Troon tried and failed to identify the speaker.

Stam was stung into speaking at last. “She’s my woman, because my father says so.”

It made him seem even less grown-up, and there was a scatter of laughter.

But, Pia noted with dismay, no one was willing to stand up to Troon openly.

Stam did not like to be laughed at, and he looked cross. He said to Yana: “We’re going inside.” He took hold of her upper arm.

“One moment,” she said, and he let go. Pia thought that was a heartening sign. It meant that her mother was not going to lose all control.

The crowd went quiet, and Yana spoke to Stam in a clear voice, so that everyone could hear and understand.

“You will never, ever strike me. For if you do—just once—know that afterward you will not sleep, not that night or any subsequent night. You will live without sleep. Because you will be sure that if you close your eyes, and fall asleep, then—” Her voice rose to a cry.

“Then, when you’re in your deepest, most unconscious sleep, I will take a flint bradawl—the kind that bores little holes in wood—and I will pierce both your eyes with it, so quickly that you will wake up blind, not knowing what has happened to you; and you will never be able to strike a woman again. ”

The crowd was silent and Stam was pale.

Then Yana said: “Now you can come inside.”

And the two of them disappeared into the house.