Page 150 of Circle of Days
“The beautiful grassland of the Great Plain represents only half of our prosperity. The other half is what we gain from having traders come to us, instead of us going to them. Flints and all the other things we need to trade for come here, and they’re traded for what—in normal times—we have in abundance: livestock. Wemustattract people back.”
Kae put in: “Otherwise we’ll just see a slow decline into nothing.”
There was a short silence. Scagga opened his mouth to speak but Keff forestalled him. “I don’t think we need to hear from you again, Scagga. I think you’re right. This isn’t the time to spend a great deal of effort organizing a spectacular event. I fear no one would come to it.”
Ani had lost. Timidity had won. She took her leave politely.
She had one more hope.
She walked through the village and across the plain to the Monument.
Joia was with the priestesses, practicing singing. Ani heard her say: “We must begin each word together, and end each word together. You have to listen as well as sing.”
My daughter, the perfectionist, Ani thought fondly.
She listened as the priestesses sang again, and she was struck by the difference made when they began and ended words precisely together. It was almost magical.
Joia had seen Ani, and when the song was over she said: “That’s enough for today. Well done, everyone.”
The priestesses drifted away, and Ani and Joia sat on the ground to talk. Ani told her about the elders’ meeting that had just finished. Joia agreed with Ani, not surprisingly. “We really need to rebuild the Monument from scratch,” she said. “That’s the only way it will look decent. And we could do it. But Ello keeps saying no.”
“Let’s go together and ask her again,” said Ani.
They went to Ello’s tent. She was lying down, but perfectly alert. “In these trying times we must expect less,” she said when Ani and Joia had made their pitch. “We can’t have everything we want. Priestesses must reduce their ceremonies and spend more time gathering wild vegetables.”
It made Joia cross. “Priestesses don’t exist to gather food!” she said. “We’re here to count the days of the year and pass on the knowledge acquired by generations of our forebears.”
“Yes, and we’ll do that again, but not now.”
“The drought is coming to an end—”
“Leave me now. I’m tired.”
Ani and Joia stared at Ello in exasperation, but there was nothing they could do.
They left.
At the end of the day, just when it was getting too dark to weed the furrows, Duff would come strolling along the riverbank to Yana’s farm, and would chat to Pia in the dusk. One evening he said to her: “Can I ask you a question?”
“If you like.”
“A rather personal question.”
“I don’t know. Try me.”
“How long do you think it will take you to get over Han?”
That was very direct. She did not answer immediately.
He said: “Have I embarrassed you?”
“No,” she said. “It’s a good question—one I should ask myself.”
He waited in silence.
After a while she said: “I will never forget Han and I will always love him. The real question is whether I might be able to love someone else.” She paused again. Then she said: “Someone like you.”
He was surprised. “Do you mean that?”
