Page 57 of Circle of Days
Now, when the community was in a profound crisis, Seft knew something was needed to reunite them. The murder of Inka had been a warning. The collective spirit of the herder folk was ebbing away. The rebuilding of the Monument could bring everyone together again.
He crossed the North River and reached a steep hill called the Scarp, then followed it east until it became no more than a series of hills. His eye for landscape had been sharpened by the search for signs of a flint seam. Eventually he recognized the territory through which he was passing, and he turned north.
He began to examine the terrain with a view to dragging giant stones through it. At first glance he was dismayed. The area was hilly and there was nothing that could be done about that. He remembered Dallo saying how difficult it had been to move a stone across a field. Now Seft thought about how hard it would be to move even bigger stones up and down these hills, through woods and across fields; and he felt discouraged.
He reached Stony Valley at midafternoon and sat with his back to a tree, thinking about the problem. The first thing to do, he decided, would be to find the least difficult route.
The sheep who grazed the valley were presumably owned by someone, but Seft had not met a shepherd on his two previous visits. However, this time a man in a sheepskin tunic appeared. He smelled very bad, and Seft guessed that, not living near a river, he never washed.
The shepherd gave him a slab of raw mutton.
Seft was surprised to be given food in the drought. “This is a generous gift,” he said.
“Ah, well,” said the shepherd, “it’s so you don’t feel tempted to kill one of my sheep for your supper.”
That was shrewd. But Seft said: “All the same, I appreciate your kindness.”
“My name is Hol,” said the shepherd.
“And I’m Seft, a herder.”
The shepherd nodded and went back the way he had come.
Seft made a fire and roasted the meat. He ate some and saved the rest for tomorrow. He woke early and set off right away, chewing mutton. As far as possible, the stones should follow the valleys. But they would have to avoid swamps, woods, and rocky ground. And those pulling would get thirsty, so they needed always to be near water.
From Stony Valley the stones would have to go southwest up a rise, a challenging start on rough ground. But from then on it was mostly downhill. He saw how to avoid two steep hills by passing between them.
Soon after that he came down into the northeast corner of the Great Plain, uneven but grassy. By then he thought he had covered about a quarter of the distance. The plain was not flat but rose and fell gently. A large herd browsed what little growth there was.
He talked to a man called Dab and a pregnant woman called Revo, both carrying long, flexible herding sticks. “We moved the herd here a few days ago,” Revo said. “There’s always some springgrowth here, although this year it’s not much. How long will this drought go on?”
Seft did not know.
He reached the East River shortly before coming to the village of Upriver, and now he reckoned he was halfway home. Beside the river was a large meadow, and he sat there to rest and eat his remaining mutton. The villagers were not unfriendly, but no one questioned him about what he was doing or where he was going. Perhaps they saw a lot of travelers.
East River ran more or less straight from Upriver to Riverbend. The easy way to transport the giant stones would have been to float them downriver on rafts. But he saw immediately that East River was too narrow and bendy. Any raft big enough to carry the enormous weight would be wider than some stretches of the river.
He had never walked the entire distance, but he knew that a pathway ran alongside the river. A riverside path was bound to be flat, and he guessed that would be the best route for the second half of the journey.
Moving on, he encountered several other travelers, and he concluded that he was on a much-used route.
However, he saw that in some places the path was narrow, much too narrow for a giant stone. It would have to be widened by felling trees and clearing bushes. Also, they might have to dig into the adjoining slopes to make room.
It would be a lot of work, but he saw no obstacles that could not be removed.
When he got back to Riverbend he felt he had probably found the best route.
Neen welcomed him with hugs and kisses. “I was afraid those two would kill you,” she said.
“I found them a pit,” he said. “It should keep them busy for many years.”
“Thank the gods for that.”
Seft was bursting with what he had learned that day, and wanted to share it. “I’d like to invite your sister, Joia, for supper,” he said.
“I’d be delighted—especially if she could bring something to put in the pot.”
“Good,” Seft said. “I’ve got a lot to tell her.”
