The one he picked lay flat, half buried in the earth, and they started by digging all around to loosen it. When they had revealed the underneath edge, they all got down and excavated earth from the underside as far as they could go.
Next Seft picked the strongest ten people, told them to take stout oak levers from the stockpile, and stood them in a line on one long side of the stone. Following his instructions, they pushed the ends of their levers into the gap under the stone. Then, acting together, they lifted the edge of the stone. As soon as it had risen the width of a hand, Seft shoved a branch underneath so that the stone could not sink down again, and those with the levers relaxed.
After a short break they stuck their levers in again and lifted once more, and Seft was able to insert another branch. Now the two supporting branches were hammered into the gap so that they would not slip out.
They repeated the process again and again. As the stone rose and the gap widened, Seft stuck short lengths of wood upright underneath it to act as props.
While they worked, a mouthwatering smell of beef and onions encouraged their efforts.
When at last they got the stone upright on its edge and secured it, they ate their midday meal with relish.
After the meal, Seft said he wanted to find out how difficult, or easy, it was to flatten the underside of the stone—a process Joia considered essential because, when the stone was upright in the Monument, what had been the top and bottom surfaces would become the highly visible inner and outer.
First he carefully brushed the underside, removing earth and insects and some kind of oily growth, then wiped it thoroughly with a scrap of leather. “I need a clean, dry surface,” he explained to Joia.
The only tool for shaping a stone was another stone. Seft picked up from the ground a roundish stone that fitted neatly into his hand, and began to attack the underside of the giant sarsen. Joia expected to see a lot of dust, but there was very little. She wondered whether that was because the stone was so hard.
When the aged dark surface cracked and fell away, the stone underneath was revealed to be a vivid mid-grey—very distinctive. Joia said: “What a beautiful color! Our new Monument will be that shade all over. Won’t that be wonderful?”
Seft attacked the lumps and bumps on the underside. The rock was hard, and he had no experience of stonemasonry. Joia realized that dressing these stones might be a long job. Perhaps people who were too old to pull the sled could do the work during halts.
She frowned, suddenly feeling that she was being watched. Looking around, she saw a woodlander gazing at her. There was a large wood on the other side of the hill, she had noticed, so it wasnot surprising that there were woodlanders. As she thought this, several more appeared, stepping from behind trees.
One of them she recognized. It was Lali, the daughter of Gida—and, perhaps, of Bez. She was still beautiful, though she looked older. In just one year she had lost her home and most of her tribe, and the bereavement showed on her face. She had left the Great Plain, Joia presumed, and had found a welcome here.
Lali said: “I am ashamed to speak to you.” Bez had taught her the herder language.
Joia thought there was no point in blaming a girl for what had been done by her tribe. She said: “My people and your people have done each other great harm.”
“I have found a new tribe.”
“I’m glad. What happened to your mother?”
“I don’t know.” Lali looked sad. “She insisted that we split up. She said a young woman on her own would have a much greater chance of finding a home.”
Gida had probably been right about that, Joia thought; but what a wrench it must have been.
Lali said: “These people, my new tribe, didn’t believe I could speak the herder tongue, so they made me talk to you to prove it.”
“Well, now you’ve proved it.”
Some of the other woodlanders spoke to Lali. She listened, then said to Joia: “They would like to know what you are doing in this valley. You take branches from trees and lay them on the ground. Now you are chipping a stone. They find these acts mysterious.”
“We’re going to take this big stone to the Monument.”
Lali stared at her incredulously. “They will not believe that.”
Joia shrugged. “I don’t blame them. It will be very difficult.”
Lali turned to the others, now crowded around her, and spoke in the woodlander language. They gave cries of astonishment.
There was some discussion, then Lali turned back to Joia. “They say it is too big to move.”
“It is very big, but we will move it.”
Lali translated. After more chatter, she said: “Why do you want to do this?”
“Our timber Monument was burned and we want to rebuild it in stone, which does not burn.”