Page 43 of Circle of Days
She hurried across the stretch of grassland that separated the priestesses’ village from the Monument, and as she did so the sound got louder. It was coming either from the far side of the Monument or from actually inside the circle.
She began to be fearful. On impulse, she returned to the house and picked up the drum and stick. She had a worrying feeling that she might need to raise an alarm.
Retracing her steps, she became convinced that the noise came from inside the earth circle. She broke into a run.
Rather than go through the entrance, she raced up the side of the earth bank, for a better view and perhaps for her own safety. She reached the top and stood looking down at a scene of devastation. The wood Monument was wrecked. The noise that had sounded like carpentry was in fact destruction. Ten or fifteen men were using stones and axes and clubs to destroy the wooden structures, pulling them down and smashing the timbers. For a moment Joia stood frozen, horrified. Then she felt an impulse to run down the bank and attack the men. Suppressing that, she began to beat the drum.
The attackers stopped what they were doing and looked at her. They had blackened their faces with ash and mud so that theycould not be recognized, but she was struck by the fact that they had also blackened their necks, undoubtedly to hide their typical farmer neck tattoos.
One man ran in her direction. She instantly made up her mind to hit him over the head with the drum as he came up the slope toward her. But another man called out to him—Joia did not quite hear the name—and the man turned around.
Behind her she heard the voices of priestesses awakened by the drum and coming out of their houses. She guessed she was clearly visible by moonlight, standing as she was on the ridge of the earth circle, and a glance over her shoulder showed the women running toward her.
The farmers all turned away. As if at a signal, they ran across the circle, away from Joia and the priestesses. They went up the far bank and disappeared down the other side. They would head across the plain, Joia was in no doubt, and soon be out of sight.
She walked slowly down the slope and stared at the damage.
There was nothing but scrap timber. The Monument was gone.
She began to cry.
By sunrise a crowd had gathered, standing around the wreckage, many weeping. Soo and all the priestesses were there, plus the elders, and Dallo and some of his cleverhands, with many villagers, including Neen and Seft.
Dallo, inspecting the ruins, said: “A lot of this wood was already deteriorating. I see brown rot, powder-post beetles that lay their eggs in the wood, and damp in the postholes. The Monumentmight not have lasted much longer even without being vandalized by the farmers.”
Soo, the High Priestess, said: “So if we rebuild, it will rot again.”
Dallo shrugged. “Sooner or later.”
Soo seemed to stand more upright, and speak with regal authority. “Then we must rebuild in stone.”
There was a murmur from the crowd. Joia thought their reaction mixed surprise and approval. Joia herself was thrilled: she wanted this. Could there be anyone who did not want it?
Dallo looked dubious. “Let me get this clear. You’re talking about a stone Monument that exactly copies the old wooden one?”
“That would be essential. The Monument was carefully designed to fulfill very specific purposes. The layout cannot be changed.”
Dallo shook his head skeptically. “Stones of that size are very difficult to transport, perhaps impossible.”
Soo pointed to the ancient ring of stones just inside the earth bank. “The bluestones were brought here.”
“Do you know where they originated?”
“Our song says they came from a place six days’ journey northwest of here, a quarry by the sea.”
Dallo’s face showed that he did not have much faith in an old song, but he said: “And how were they transported?”
“By water.”
“Ah. If only that were possible. Many years ago the East River may have been deeper and wider, but today a raft broad enough to support a bluestone could not navigate the bends and the narrows.”
Soo persisted. “There are stones all over the Great Plain.”
“That’s true. But most of them are not large enough to replaceyour timber uprights. And those that are would have to be dragged from however far away they are for many days to get here.”
Joia had noticed that Seft was listening intently to the conversation, and he now interrupted it. “There’s a place where there are many large stones—more than would be needed to rebuild the Monument.”
Everyone looked at him.
