Page 64 of Circle of Days
“A cry of outrage from the people.”
“I’d like to see that.”
“Remember when he got the men to plow up the Break? He waited until all the women had gone to the Midsummer Rite. Why would he trouble to hide what he was doing? He was afraid there would be an outcry. And there was a good deal of indignation, but by then it was too late, the plowing had been done.”
“And you think there might be an outcry now?”
“We must make sure of it.”
“How?”
“I’m going to talk to the women. They must realize that if he gets away with it this time it could happen again, and one of them would be the victim.”
“I’ll help you.”
“Good. In that case I want you to talk to Duff. He likes you.”
Pia had not registered this. “Does he?”
“It’s obvious, but not to you, because your mind is on Han.”
“Anyway, what do you want me to say to Duff, my overlooked admirer?”
“Ask him to talk to the men. He may be able to persuade at least some of them that what Troon is doing is wrong.”
Pia was dubious, but willing to try. “I’ll do my best.”
They split up. Pia headed for Duff’s place, at the far eastern end of the farming country. As she walked she tried to decide what to say, but she found herself distracted by Yana’s revelation. Duff was always pleasant and friendly, but it had never occurred to her thathe might be romantically interested in her. Yana had said Pia was too involved with Han to notice, and that was probably right.
Anyway, Duff would be keen to help.
The stream that normally ran from the wood through Duff’s fields down to South River was now dry, Pia saw with dismay.
Duff’s farm was one of the oldest. He had inherited it from an uncle. The uncle’s woman was still alive and energetic, a small, wiry woman called Uda. Pia found them at the edge of the wood, having a break and eating smoked pork, taking advantage of the shade of the trees. Duff offered Pia some of his meat, and she took a small piece.
Duff was wiry like his aunt, and a contrast to Han, who was something of a giant. Duff’s frame was compact and neat. The farm was neat, too: the furrows straight, the house in good repair, and a well-behaved yellow dog sitting next to Duff, hoping for some pork.
Pia sat down with them and told the story of Troon and Stam. Duff and his Aunt Uda were gratifyingly indignant. Uda said: “Women are sometimes bullied into accepting a man they don’t love, but normally the man is more or less suitable. Stam is no more than a boy!”
“Thirteen midsummers,” Pia said. “My mother is approaching…” She showed her hands, pointed to her feet, then repeated both gestures.
Duff said: “And Stam is a thug. He gets into fights. The girls are frightened of him.”
Pia said: “My mother is going round the farms, speaking to thewomen, telling them what has happened. She’s hoping they will protest, knowing they could be next.”
Uda said: “I wish her luck.” She sounded neither hopeful nor pessimistic.
Pia said: “Duff, would you talk to the men? See if any of them think this is wrong.”
Duff nodded. “I will, gladly. I don’t know how much sympathy I’ll find.”
“Concentrate on men who have daughters. Point out that this could happen to them.”
“That’s a good strategy,” Duff said with a touch of admiration. “A man who’s fond of his daughter would hate to see her forced to partner with a young bully.”
Pia said: “We have until tomorrow evening. That’s when Stam is coming to… take possession.”
“In that case I’d better get started.” Duff got to his feet and wiped his hands on a leaf. “I’ll begin with my next-door neighbor.”
