Page 151 of Circle of Days
She said: “Someone who is kind and strong and loves me enough to risk his life to save me and my child from a fire.”
He looked pleased.
She said: “Someone who ties his old aunt’s shoelaces in the morning.”
He laughed. “Who told you about that?”
“My mother. She also told me to open my heart to the possibility of loving again.”
“Do you think you can?”
“I don’t know, but I want to try. But if I find I can’t, I’m afraid you’ll be sad.”
“Not as sad as I’ll be if you never give me a chance.”
“All right, then.”
“All right?”
“Yes, all right.”
He looked as if he was not sure what to do next. After a moment he said: “Can I kiss you now?”
“Yes.”
It was a gentle kiss, but long. His lips were soft and his skin smelled good. He stroked her hair and she touched his beard. She felt a glow of excitement, a sensation she had almost forgotten.
When at last they broke the kiss, she said: “Oh, how lovely.”
He smiled. “Yes,” he said. “Lovely.”
Joia found her mother looking depressed on the day before the herders’ Midsummer Rite. “It’s going to be as bad as the Spring Rite, if not worse,” said Ani. “Look around. How many traders are here?”
“Twelve,” said Joia. “But they’re still arriving.”
One of the traders overheard and said: “They’ve all gone to the farmer feast.” The speaker was the flint knapper El.
“But not you,” said Ani.
“I can’t walk that far. But lots of people can.”
Joia said: “Someone told me the farmers haven’t got much food for the feast.”
El shrugged. “Maybe not, but people are curious to find out for themselves.”
“Well, we’re here, and the ceremony tomorrow is going to be beautiful.”
It was. The singing practice had taught the priestesses to sing together, not just at more or less the same time. It made the music a different experience, and the small audience listened with open-mouthed astonishment and fascination. The appearance of the sun, and its slow rise above the edge of the earth, was as moving as ever. It was a pity there were so few people there to experience it.
Joia went to Ello’s house to tell her how good it had been—but Ello was dead, her head on the pillow beside her fire, her eyes half closed as if she had been dozing. Joia felt for a heartbeat but there was none.
She could not feel very sad. Ello had always been against her. A burden had been lifted.
This meant a great change for the priestesses. There would be a new High Priestess, and it would probably be Joia, although such things could not be taken for granted.
Next day the priestesses cremated Ello inside the earth circle, and sang the funeral songs as her smoke rose into the air over the Monument.
Afterward they had a late breakfast in the dining hall. Sary, still small and thin but no longer timid, came up to Joia and said: “We all want you to be High Priestess. No one disagrees. It’s you.”
