Page 129 of Circle of Days
“You risked your own life.”
“I didn’t think about that.”
She looked hard at him. Why did he care enough to run into fire for her? It was almost as if…
She would ask her mother.
The wind dropped suddenly, and the effect on the fire was immediate. It became less intense, and the roaring diminished. Duff noticed it too. “Perhaps part of West Wood may be spared,” he said.
Pia hoped so.
They sat staring at the obliteration of West Wood. The rushing sound of flames was the dying gasp of the wood. Pia looked upstream and saw a small group of woodlanders standing on the riverbank, hugging each other and weeping.
She felt like crying herself. Something precious had been destroyed. And how would those woodlanders feed their children now?
The wind came around to the west, a stiff breeze. Perhaps that would halt the eastward advance of the fire.
Olin stopped suckling. Pia put one shoulder back into her tunic and stood up, still holding him close. She said: “Let’s get back to Farmplace.”
They walked along the riverbank. On the other side, a few blackened trees grew in a field of ash. When they reached thevillage, they had to swim back across the river. Duff carried Olin again while Pia doggy-paddled.
Where they got back onto dry land, Troon was talking intently to some farmers. Pia was curious, and joined the group. Duff did the same. Troon ignored Pia but spoke to Duff. “We must plow the ashes into the ground before the wind blows them away. Ash is good for the soil.”
Duff was surprised. “We’re going to farm the burnt woodland?”
“Yes. It’s not woodland anymore. But it’s fertile soil, perfect for farming.”
Pia was shocked. “We can’t do that!”
Troon looked at her with irritation, then decided he needed to respond. He said: “Why not?”
“Because it belongs to the woodlanders.”
“They have no concept of property. Anyway, it’s no good to them now. Everything’s gone—the deer, the birds, the nut trees.”
“All that will come back, eventually.”
“Eventually!” Troon rolled his eyes. “Eventually means a lifetime. Meanwhile, farmers are hungry. We’ll have a crop next year if we act fast.”
Pia glanced past Troon and was surprised to see Bez approaching. Troon followed her gaze and saw him. All the farmers looked the same way, and silence fell.
Bez stood still and quiet for a moment, then said: “Our home has gone. Only a small area of the wood is left, far too little to feed the tribe. We will starve.”
Troon was quick to say: “The herders lit the fire, not us. Farmers had nothing to do with it.”
Pia said: “But now Troon is going to plow up the burnt wood and sow seeds in the springtime.”
Troon gave her a look of such fury that she knew he would have killed her there and then if he could.
Bez turned his gaze back to Troon. “Then the woodland will never come back. It will be farmland forever.”
“If we wait for the woodland to come back, we’ll all be dead before it happens.”
“My tribe must eat,” Bez said. “The herders who lit the fire will have to feed us. And you, if you farm our land, you must feed us too.”
Troon said: “We can’t feed your tribe. We don’t have enough for our own.”
“You must, and the herders must. You are taking everything from us. The gods require a balance.”
