Page 34 of Circle of Days

But soon she began to worry about the walk back. She was not sure how long she had been on the water. She noticed that the moon had set, and she feared she might have fallen into a light doze for an unknown length of time.

She thought of beaching the boat, then had a better idea. She paddled to the north shore, dropped the paddle in the boat, got out, then pushed the boat back into midstream. It would float along, perhaps just for a few moments, perhaps for a long while, making Troon waste even more time.

By starlight she watched the boat drift out of sight, then turned and headed back along the riverside.

It seemed a long time before she found herself back in farmland. She kept looking over her shoulder, fearing she might see the first light of dawn in the night sky. She began to feel tired, and occasionally stumbled over a stone.

The woods retreated and the farmland widened. She passed houses: no one was about. She was almost home, but it was still possible that some early riser would see her and say: “Hello! What are you doing, wandering around in the dark?”

She reached her farm and walked up to the door of the house. It was silent within. She stepped in noiselessly. Stam was still fast asleep. She lay down beside her mother. Yana reached out and squeezed her arm gently.

Pia closed her eyes.

All was well.

Next morning early, a rumor ran from field to field that Mo had taken the boat and sailed away.

At midmorning Shen appeared and told Stam to go to his father.

At noon Stam went past, heading downriver with a handful of his friends, whom the farmers called the Young Dogs. “The search party,” Yana said to Pia, and they continued watering and weeding. Pia was pleased: Stam was following her false trail.

The Young Dogs came back along the riverside at dusk, tired and frustrated, Narod and Pilic arguing rancorously about why they had failed to find Mo.

When Stam came home for supper, he said: “My father doesn’t believe Mo even took that boat.

He thinks it just got loose somehow and floated downstream. He’s furious.”

Troon was not imaginative, Pia reflected. It had not occurred to him that the boat might have been a deliberate decoy. She was relieved.

She said disingenuously to Stam: “I wonder where Mo could have gone?”

“My father thinks she went to Riverbend. She’ll imagine we can’t touch her there. She’s going to find out differently.”

Stam was clearly repeating things his father had said. Pia wanted to find out how much Troon knew. She said: “Mo might have someone at Riverbend to protect her.”

“Oh, she’s got a man there, we know that.”

Pia went cold. How had they found out? Then she reasoned. Mo had gone with Yaran at the last Midsummer Rite. Then, at a subsequent Rite, she had talked to him long enough to find out that he liked her. Many people would have noticed a relationship developing. And someone had told Troon about it.

Pia said to Stam: “Who is this man?”

“We don’t know. Shen is going there tomorrow to find out.”

Sly Shen would probably learn the name of Mo’s protector—and where he lived. And Mo would not be far away. This was not going well.

Shen disappeared early next morning. He returned at the end of the following day. On the morning after that, Troon set off with Stam and the Young Dogs, heading east.

Pia was fearful for Mo.

The herders did not consider women to be property, but they knew that was the farmers’ belief, and they were always reluctant to get involved in a quarrel. They would be angry if Yaran was attacked but, if Mo was kidnapped and Yaran was left more or less unhurt, the herders might take no action.

The worst happened. Two days later the Young Dogs came back with Mo.

She was marched along the riverside, not the shortest route but the most public.

There was a rope around her neck and Pilic was holding the end of it, as if she were a dog.

She had a black eye and bruises on her arms and legs, and she walked with a limp.

Her hands were tied behind her back. Troon wanted everyone to see what happened to runaway women.

A crowd followed her, and Pia and Yana joined them.

Pia was horrified. She realized that if she left to live with Han she would risk suffering the same treatment.

Mo was taken directly to Bort’s place. When Deg saw her, he looked appalled. Troon threw her to the ground in front of him.

There was rage in the crowd, particularly among the women, but there was fear, too, Pia sensed, and the fear outweighed the rage.

Troon spoke to the crowd. “Take a good look,” he said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. “This is what happens to women who betray our community.”

He looked all around the crowd slowly, as if trying to meet everyone’s eye in turn.

“From now on,” he continued, “no woman will go to the Rites at the Monument, or leave the farmland for any other reason.”

Pia almost shouted a protest. This meant she could not see Han at the Midsummer Rite. Or at any time, she realized.

Never again.

That night Pia lay awake. She had to find a way to see Han, but how? They would never meet by accident. He lived in Riverbend and she was at the other end of the Great Plain. She could not leave Farmplace, and if Han tried to visit her, then Troon would immediately be alerted to their romance.

And how would they ever get to live together? If she ran away, she would be brought back like Mo. If Han came to live in farmer country, he would be miserable—and so would she, for she longed to get away.

After a sleepless night she got up at dawn. Her mother and Stam were not stirring. She took a basket and went to forage in the wood for strawberries and edible leaves. Mornings were warm now; it was almost midsummer.

She ate the first few berries she found, then began to fill her basket.

She saw woodlanders, usually doing the same as her.

They would smile and say a few words in their own language.

She would smile back and reply in her language.

Only the smiles were understood, but they were enough.

It seemed never to occur to woodlanders to claim that the fruits of the forest were theirs and no one else’s.

They were the opposite of the farmers, who believed that everything had to belong to someone.

In the drought the forest fruits were not plentiful, and her search took her all the way to the northern limit of the wood, where it met the plain.

Looking out across the dry, brown grassland, she saw the usual herd, now scrawny.

Not far away was a herder sitting on the ground.

He was a young man perhaps ten midsummers older than herself.

He noticed her and gave a friendly wave.

She was going to turn back into the wood, but he got up off the ground and walked toward her.

She decided to talk to him.

When he came close, she said: “May the Sun God smile on you.”

“And on you. I’m Zad.”

“Pia.”

Zad had an attractive grin and the confidence of people who know they are charming. He looked into her basket. “You didn’t get much.”

“Everything’s dried up. How are your cattle doing?”

“Poorly. I drive them west to the river, so they get water, but there’s little for them to eat, and they get thinner every day.”

“That’s sad.”

“How are things at Farmplace?”

“Bad. The women have been banned from going to the Rites at the Monument.”

“And they’re going to obey the ban?”

She smiled. Only a herder would ask that question. “We’re not like your women. We have to do what we’re told.”

“That’s a shame. Midsummer is the best day of the year. Food, and poets telling tales, then the revel…”

“Are you going?”

“Yes.”

She was thinking, and he noticed her expression. “What is it?”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“And I have a woman. And a child.”

That was a misunderstanding: he had thought she was warning him off. She tried to disillusion him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” It was too embarrassing to explain, so she just said: “Do you know a herder called Han?”

“Bigfoot? Of course I do. Those shoes!”

“Could you take a message from me to him and give it to him when you go to the Rite? He’s sure to be there.”

He grinned charmingly. “Yes, why not?”

She became excited. She had found a way to communicate with Han. She said: “If for some reason you don’t see Han, speak to his mother, Ani. She’s an elder.”

“I know Ani. She stayed a night in my house, a long time ago.”

“Did she? How strange!”

“Not really. It was after the farmers plowed up the Break. Some elders came hoping to reason with Troon.”

“A doomed enterprise.”

“So it was.”

“Will you deliver my message?” She wanted confirmation.

“Yes.”

“Thank you. It means such a lot to me.”

“What should I say?”

She thought for a few moments, then decided that simplicity was best. “Please tell him I love him.”

Han could hardly wait for Pia to arrive for the Midsummer Rite.

Herding cattle on the plain between Riverbend and the Monument, he kept looking west, hoping to see her approaching.

He was so distracted that the other herders had to keep an eye on him, and alert him to cows that were wandering away.

A wolf cub, young and foolish, probably having lost its mother, crept into the herd, and Han knew nothing about it until a fellow herder shot it with an arrow.

He talked about Pia all the time. His mother, Ani, listened tolerantly. His sister Neen told him to shut up. His dog, Thunder, was fascinated by everything he said.

Most visitors arrived on the day before the Rite. He spent much of that day helping his mother, carrying the tanned hides of sheep and cattle to the area outside the Monument where people sat to trade. He expected Pia at any moment, probably bringing some of her mother’s goat’s-milk cheese.