“That means that, after next year’s Midsummer Rite, we will bring nine more giant stones to the Monument!”
She heard a rising noise of people reacting to this andcommenting to those around them. She caught Seft’s eye: he was open-mouthed in astonishment. She had not forewarned anyone of this.
“Spread the news!” she cried. “Next year we want to see a huge attendance at the Midsummer Rite! Every person in the Great Plain who has a sense of adventure, and many more from farther afield, will come to the Rite. They will attend the ceremony of the sunrise, they will trade, they will feast with us, and the next morning we will all march again to Stony Valley.”
She needed them to commit. “Shall we do this?”
There was a shout of “Yes!”
Joia felt inspiration seize her. “Shall we please the Sun God?”
They shouted louder. “Yes!”
“Shall we go again to Stony Valley?”
Now the volunteers joined in. “Yes, yes, yes!”
“Shall we bring back nine stones?Nine stones?”
Loudest of all: “Yes!”
They continued to cheer as Joia got down from her platform, shaking with emotion. The applause went on. She had won them over. She felt woozy with success. She saw Dee in front of her and felt faint. Her vision blurred and she fell forward. She knew that she was caught in Dee’s strong arms, and then she passed out.
Joia recovered quickly, and life began to return to normal with a speed that felt a bit disappointing. As noon approached, Dee asked if she could share the midday meal with the priestesses. “I’d like to know more about them,” she said.
“You’re welcome, of course,” Joia said.
They sat on the ground in the dining hall and ate cold meat left over from the volunteers’ breakfast with some of the vegetable leaves that were plentiful in summer. Dee sat next to Bet, a small, round-faced girl who always had a happy smile. Dee said: “What made you become a priestess, Bet?”
“When I was a little girl, I always loved the way they sang and danced at the Rites,” Bet said. “And then when I was older my father died, and my mother got a new partner who didn’t really like me.”
“And now you dance and sing with the priestesses.”
“To be honest, I’m not naturally very graceful.”
The other priestesses protested. “You’re fine,” said one.
“Well, I’ve improved.”
Dee said: “Don’t you get bored, doing the same thing every day?”
“No! It’s hard to remember the songs. We have hundreds of them. Joia knows them all, and so does Sary, but I’m still learning them—and I’ve been here five midsummers.”
Dee turned to Sary. “Do you really know hundreds of songs?”
“Yes, of course,” said Sary, being uncharacteristically curt. “That’s what being a priestess is all about.”
Joia was surprised at her abrupt tone. She wondered whether Dee had done something to offend Sary. She could not think what it might have been.
Dee showed no sign of having noticed. “And you all must feel favored by the Sun God.”
“We hope so,” said Bet.
The flint miner Bax came into the room and said: “Forgive me for interrupting. I came to say goodbye to Dee. I’m heading home.”
Dee stood up. “I’ll walk a little way with you.” She looked at the priestesses. “Thank you all for sharing your meal with me.” She turned to Joia. “I’ll see you this evening.”
They left, and the others broke up to do their afternoon chores.