Page 78 of Circle of Days
“Give me your hands. Make fists, gently.” She pulled his leftthumb and four fingers straight, then added two fingers of his right hand. Touching them in turn, she said: “Tomorrow. The next day. The day after that. Another day. Another day. Another day. And then…” Holding the seventh finger, she said: “This day you hunt.”
Bez repeated what she had said. Then he showed his hands to Fell, saying: “Remember this, in case I forget,” and he again repeated what Joia had said.
Fell made the same shapes with his own hands and repeated the words. Then he said: “I’ll remember.”
They were elated. They had the answer to their question. Their trip was not a failure after all.
Joia said: “One more thing. The sun and the moon aren’t fickle—they always rise and set when we expect it—but the animals and plants are not so reliable. My date for the deer is likely to be right, but it’s not as certain as tomorrow’s sunrise.”
Bez understood. A deer might come to drink at a pond every night for a week and then, the night you lay in wait to kill it, it would not appear. He was prepared for disappointment.
He said: “I thank you, Priestess Joia, and all my tribe thank you, too.”
Joia said: “I wish you luck.”
Soo died that night.
Ello came and woke the other priestesses before dawn, but she would not let anyone help her wash the body for cremation. She wept constantly, inconsolably.
The priestesses built a funeral pyre inside the oval. At dawn six of them made a cradle with their linked hands and carried the body from the house to the pyre, laying Soo down with her head toward the east, while everyone sang to the Sun God.
Ello put a torch to the pyre.
Then they stood in solemn silence. Joia thought anxiously about what lay ahead. Soo had been High Priestess for all of Joia’s time here—nearly ten midsummers. This would be a big change. The most important thing, for Joia and for the people of the Great Plain, was that the knowledge of the days of the year should be preserved for future generations. That must happen whether the new High Priestess was Joia or Ello or someone else. The more they knew, the better they would be able to manage the crises that life threw at them.
Many priestesses wept now, as smoke rose and the flames devoured the corpse. When the edge of the sun peeped over the horizon, the priestesses began a new song, asking the spirit of the wind to cherish the ashes of the High Priestess. Soon there was little left, and the sun was up. The funeral was over.
Ello returned to her house, still weeping. The others went to the large rectangular building that served as a dining hall. The novices put out smoked pork and a salad of chickweed leaves. Everyone sat on the floor to eat and discuss who should be the next High Priestess.
The younger priestesses favored Joia. Others said tactfully that a High Priestess needed the wisdom that comes with age. The more humble among them felt that they should obey the dying wish of Soo.
Then Seft came in.
The conversation went quiet, and everyone looked at Joia. They knew that Seft was her sister’s man, as well as the leader of the cleverhands.
Joia said: “I asked Seft to come here this morning for a special reason. If, after long discussion, you should decide to ask me to be High Priestess, I would want to rebuild the Monument in stone. If I could not do that, I would not want to be High Priestess.”
She paused to let them take that in.
She resumed: “Ten years ago we were persuaded, by Dallo, that it was impossible. But Seft is not Dallo, and he and I think it is possible to build a stone Monument. If you wish, we will tell you why.”
Some looked dubious but everyone was curious.
Joia noticed one of the older priestesses slipping out, and guessed she had gone to tell Ello what was happening.
Seft said: “I’ve surveyed the territory between Stony Valley and here, and I believe I’ve found the best route for transporting the stones. Stony Valley is in the North Hills, and we would have to cope with some ups and downs, but we can avoid the steeper hills. After that there is a stretch of the plain, then we come to Upriver. From there we travel along the bank of East River, which is flat. Just before Riverbend we turn onto the plain for the last stretch.”
This practical talk made the project seem real and possible.
Joia then said: “We estimate that it will take two hundred people to move one of the giant sarsen stones in Stony Valley. Seft naturally asked me where we would get the people.”
At that point Ello walked in.
Joia said smoothly: “I’m so glad you’ve joined us, Second High Priestess. I was about to explain where we would find the necessary people to drag the giant stones for the rebuilding of the Monument.”
“I’d be most interested to know,” said Ello with a hint of sarcasm.
“It’s simple,” Joia said. “We recruit the visitors who come to the Midsummer Rite. We tell them this is a holy mission—which it is—and that the celebrations, including the revel, are being extended for a few more days. They will love the idea. It will appeal particularly to the young—and strong.”
