Page 90 of Circle of Days

When the celebrations were over, and the crowd had at last gone home to their beds, Joia and Dee sat on one of the nine stones, looking in the starlight at what they had done. It was the end of the tenth day, and Joia had achieved her target.

She had ordered the stones to be unloaded outside the Monument, at a spot a few paces north of the earth bank, where the cleverhands could work on them before setting them upright inside the Monument.

“You’re a hero,” Dee said to Joia.

It was a warm summer evening, and they were holding hands. Joia said: “People think I’m a hero—and that’s good, because it makes them willing to follow me—but I think you know I’m really just an ordinary person.”

“Not quite ordinary,” Dee said with a smile.

Joia knew that was true, but she also knew that she felt like an ordinary person. Even when she was standing on a giant stone whipping the crowd into a frenzy, a small voice in the back of her head said: This isn’t really me .

Then Dee said, in a casual tone: “I must go home tomorrow.”

Joia was shocked. “But why?” she said woefully.

“I have sheep to mind, and a baby niece I’m missing.”

“You’re going just for a few days?”

“No…”

“But… I thought we were going to be together from now on.”

Dee let go of Joia’s hand, and Joia felt it like a blow; then Dee said: “And what do you imagine I would do, if I didn’t go home?”

“I don’t know, but…”

“You didn’t think about it.”

“I just thought our love was strong enough to deal with any difficulties.”

“I can’t spend my life following you around and watching people worship you.”

Joia knew she was adored. Dee was not the first person to tell her. But she did not feel that she deserved their veneration, and because of that she never thought of herself as adored. She said: “But that’s the last thing I want.”

Dee took hold of both Joia’s hands and looked into her eyes. “My love—”

“Am I your love?” Joia interrupted. “Truly?”

“Yes, you are.”

Joia whispered: “Thank you.”

“But if we’re to be together, one of us must give up the life she’s been living.”

“But I assumed…”

“You assumed I’d give up mine.”

Joia felt ashamed. “I suppose I did.”

“You’ve just announced to the people that next year you’ll bring five crossbar stones from Stony Valley, each to be placed across the tops of two uprights, on the pattern of the timber Monument.”

“Yes.”

“You committed yourself to another year as a priestess without talking to me about it.”

Joia bowed her head in shame. “That’s true.”

“Would you give up your life as a priestess, here at the Monument, to be with me?”

Joia wanted to say yes, but could not. “I’ve promised to rebuild the Monument in stone… Thousands of people are expecting me to do it and want to support me… How could I walk away?”

“You believe your life is more important than mine.”

“I didn’t mean to say that.”

“But you thought it.”

“I did, and I’m sorry, because I know that your life is just as important as mine. But what are we going to do?”

“We both need to think very hard.”

“Couldn’t you stay with me while we do that?”

“No. That would mean we had already made the decision.”

Of course it would, Joia saw that. Still she protested: “I can’t bear for us to part again.”

“I’ll come back.”

“When?”

“Midsummer.”

“A whole year? Can’t you come earlier?”

“Perhaps. I’ll see.”

There was a long silence, then Joia said thoughtfully: “It’s the second time you’ve done this.”

Dee frowned, not understanding. “Done what?”

“Knocked me flat.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“The first time it was because you were afraid I didn’t love you in a sexual way. You thought I might just want to be friends.”

“I was wrong about that.”

“Now you’re afraid I don’t respect you as I should. You think your wishes will always be secondary to mine.”

Suddenly Dee was upset. Tears ran down her face and she said: “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you again. You’re the one I love.”

“Then you will come back.”

“I promise.”

“I’m not going to lose you. I will not let it happen.”

“I’m glad,” said Dee.

Pia, Duff, and Yana worked hard on their farm, trying to make up for the days they had lost as prisoners. They weeded and hoed from dawn to nightfall, and continued on the eleventh and twelfth days of the week, which were supposed to be rest days.

At the beginning of the following week Zad and Biddy came looking for them, and found them in a field. “There was a battle,” Zad said. “I was there. All the farmers were killed.”

Duff said: “ All of them? No survivors at all?”

“Joia told me to stampede the herd, and the farmers were trampled.”

Yana gasped. “That’s terrible,” she said. Beginning to understand the consequences, she went on: “It means that most of the women in Farmplace have lost their men.” After a moment’s thought she added: “We’ll have to go round and tell them.”

Pia said: “We’ll have to do more than tell them. The young widows will struggle to manage their farms, and the older ones will be unable to get their harvest in—unless we can organize to help them.”

Duff said: “I don’t see what we can do—every family will be stretched thin.”

“Some are better off than others,” Pia said. “A young mother with a fourteen-year-old and a twelve-year-old will do better than an old woman with no one. The young mother could let her children help the old woman a couple of days a week.”

“But who’s going to organize all that?” said Duff.

“We are.”

They divided up the mothers and each took a third. But that did not work well. Pia’s first call was on Rua, whom she found forking leafy fodder into a manger for her cows. “I bring bad news, Rua, I’m sorry.”

Rua put down her wooden pitchfork. “He’s dead, isn’t he?” she said immediately. Tears came to her eyes but she did not sob.

“Yes,” said Pia. “Our men lost the battle and they’re all dead.”

Anger overcame Rua’s grief. “Thanks to that pigheaded fool Troon.”

“At least you’ve got Eron to help you.”

Rua nodded. “He’ll have to be the man now.”

“Your neighbor Liss hasn’t got anyone, now that Jax is dead.”

“Poor soul.”

“Would you let Eron work for her a couple of days a week? It would make a big difference to her.”

“I don’t know…”

“We’re asking all the women with half-grown children to help out in this way.”

“Was it your idea?”

“Yes, why?”

“What does Duff say about it?”

“He’s in favor.”

“Hmm. Let me think about it.”

Pia hesitated. “I was hoping you’d agree right away. Surely you want to help your neighbor?”

Rua was miffed. “I’ve said I’ll think about it.”

Pia gave in. “Well, thank you for that.” She took her leave.

She met up with Duff and Yana at midday. They sat in the sunshine eating goat cheese. “How did you get on?” Pia said to Duff.

“Fine,” he said. “They all agreed right away.”

“And you, Mother?”

Yana said: “Not so well. Most of them said maybe.”

Pia said: “And did they ask you whether Duff had agreed to the scheme?”

“Yes.”

“Mine did the same: prevaricated, and asked about Duff. I was afraid of this. They won’t follow the lead of a woman.”

Yana nodded. “I’m sure that’s what it is.”

Duff said: “But that’s crazy! They’ve been complaining for years about stupid men telling them what to do. Now Troon’s gone and they’ve got a chance to run their own lives, they insist on male authority.”

“Crazy it is,” said Pia, “but we’ve got to deal with it.”

“How?”

“From now on, we pretend that you’re the boss, Duff, and I’m just doing what you tell me. But you have to go and see the women who haven’t yet agreed. As soon as you personally ask them, they’ll join up.”

“All right,” said Duff. “I’ll visit the waverers this afternoon. I’ll be the male boss.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” said Pia.

A week later Shen returned.

The area immediately outside the Monument, where the nine stones had been put, was turned into a workshop by Seft. All the stones had to be trimmed to the same size and shape, with their tops flattened so that the crossbars could sit securely. The cleverhands were hard at work.

It was difficult, Seft knew. The only tool for the task was a stone hammer.

The mason had to study the block carefully and guess where the weaknesses lay, then place his blow with great care and use just the right amount of force.

It was like making a flint blade, but trickier, because sarsen did not flake as readily as flint.

However, Seft was worrying about the crossbars, still lying on the ground in Stony Valley but due to come to the Monument next midsummer.

The uprights were a lesser problem. He knew how to get uprights in place and secure.

It was not easy, but he had established the method and his team understood what they had to do.

By contrast, when the crossbars arrived they would present a whole new set of problems.

A crossbar was less than half the size of an upright.

However, each one had to be lifted to the top of a pair of uprights and set in position.

To follow the pattern of the inner oval of the timber Monument, the crossbar had to fit exactly on top of a pair of uprights, edges and corners strictly in line.

Trimming the crossbar to the right size and shape was not impossible, with careful measurement and skilled trimming.

The two new challenges were: first, lifting the crossbar to that height; and second, adjusting its position precisely.

He discussed the problem with Joia when she came to the workshop to check on progress. His son, Ilian, listened attentively.

Joia said: “Once you’ve got the crossbar on top of the uprights, surely you can adjust its position?”

“No,” said Seft. “It’s far too heavy to be nudged this way and that.”

“Couldn’t you rope it?”

“We might have to try that, but it’s impossible for a hundred men pulling ropes to make tiny adjustments, perhaps move a giant stone no more than the width of a thumb.”