Magus of Stonewylde Book One (13 page)

As he’d done a little earlier, she reached across and touched his sleeve. His eyes found hers and she gazed into them, wanting desperately to comfort him.

‘Yul, I …’

She faltered, locked in the depths of his deep grey eyes. Words were inadequate. Instead she poured out her silent sympathy and hoped he understood. But he stood up abruptly.

‘I must be getting back,’ he said gruffly. ‘Farewell, miss.’

Beltane was fast approaching and the entire community was in uproar preparing for this major festival. Costumes were sewn, dances and songs rehearsed, food organised and prepared. The Great Barn was decorated with the hawthorn blossom that had turned every hedgerow pure white, whilst papier-mâché Green Man masks, decorated with real leaves, were hung from the rafters and pinned to the walls. Magus had chosen his May Queen and informed the lucky girl of her good fortune, dashing the hopes of countless others in the process. Everywhere the preparations were in full swing, people becoming ever more frantic and busy as the date approached.

Miranda and Sylvie, now in possession of the plain white dresses they must wear for the occasion, were bemused by all the fuss. Magus took time one morning after breakfast to reassure them about the festival. He explained that the Beltane celebrations were held in two stages, the first part on May Eve, the night before May Day. At the fire-lit ceremony in the Stone Circle, the spirit of the Green Man was invoked. He was always represented by Magus, who led the festival with the May Queen. The rituals continued late into the night, and there was a vigil in the Stone Circle for the May Day sunrise. During May Day the festivities involved the whole community down on the Village
Green. The day was spent in celebration, with a party in the evening in the Great Barn. The formal invitation for them to join the community would take place during May Eve.

‘Clip will run through the words with you,’ said Magus. ‘It’ll be very straightforward so don’t worry about it.’

‘I can’t wait to see the Stone Circle,’ said Sylvie. ‘It sounds so exciting.’

‘It’s the heart of Stonewylde, the place where the earth energy is strongest. Not because the Stone Circle’s there, of course. The magic came first. The circle was built by our ancestors to mark the place where the Earth Magic could be channelled. And don’t look at me like that, Miranda. I know you find this difficult to believe. But that doesn’t mean it’s not real. I think Sylvie understands.’

She nodded, remembering the day after the Spring Equinox when Magus had taken her into the woods and filled her with his healing energy.

‘It is real, Mum. It’s what’s made me better.’

Miranda still looked doubtful. She reluctantly excused herself from the library where the three of them sat, as she had a lesson to teach.

‘And you’ve got a class too, I believe,’ she said to her daughter.

‘She can skip that,’ said Magus. ‘I want a word with her.’

Miranda frowned but left the library, and Magus took Sylvie outside onto the long stone terrace overlooking the lawns.

They stood together by the stone balustrade gazing across the gardens. Sunlight had transformed the dew on the grass into a carpet of sparkling crystals. A group of great horse chestnuts were already in full leaf, the fat sticky buds now burst and the palmate leaves unfurled. These trees were home to a community of rooks; they boasted noisily of their splendid nests and fussed with extra twigs to add to their messy creations. Sylvie watched them with amusement.

‘They’re like a group of gossiping old women,’ she laughed. ‘Look! Every time one of them flies away, another one steals a
twig from its nest. And they’re so loud. What have they got to make so much noise about?’

Magus smiled at her.

‘You’re really happy here, aren’t you? I asked your mother the other evening if she was certain about making this commitment at Beltane, and I’d like to ask you the same thing, Sylvie. You’ll be making sacred vows in the Circle and I want you to be sure.’

She turned to him, her strange grey eyes shining.

‘I’m sure.’

‘We originally said there’d be a year’s trial. But I think you belong here.’

‘I do. I’ve come home.’

She realised she was echoing Yul’s words.

‘I’m so pleased, Sylvie. I really believe it’s the right decision.’

She smiled and took a deep breath of the fragrant morning air. Her body tingled with vitality. Since the moon dancing she’d felt better than ever before. Magus’ dark gaze scanned her glowing face, the ravages of eczema almost banished, her eyes no longer sunken and dull and her frailty finally receding.

‘I want to share the Earth Magic with you again at Beltane,’ he said, ‘to complete the healing we started last month.’

She nodded and remembered her outburst of tears after Magus had filled her with his gift of energy. It was embarrassing, for he’d seen her at her most vulnerable.

‘You were very ill,’ he said gently, as if reading her mind, ‘and it’s not surprising you felt so emotional. But this time you’ll feel strong and powerful. Beltane energy is the best and without it I’d never be able to run Stonewylde as I do.’

‘Really? So it’s not just for healing then?’

‘No, it’s green energy from the Earth and it can be used for healing of course, but also just to give extra strength and vitality. Leading Stonewylde is the most gruelling job and almost too much for one person. The magic comes to me and I use it, but as the magus it’s also my privilege to share it if I so choose. So during Beltane I want you to stand with me in the Circle and take your fill. After that you’ll be whole.’

‘You’re very good to me,’ she said in a small voice. ‘You make me feel cared for and special.’

‘You are special, Sylvie. That’s why you’re here. Outsiders are never normally invited into the community, as you now understand. But I knew when I first saw you that day in London that you belonged at Stonewylde. I can’t wait for Hazel to see you in the summer. She’ll be amazed at your transformation.’

‘I’ll always be grateful to her,’ said Sylvie. ‘I dread to think how I’d be now if she hadn’t rescued me.’

‘Don’t think of it,’ said Magus firmly. ‘It’s behind you. You’ll never be weak again, Sylvie. I shall make sure of it.’

They watched the rooks for a while longer. A young gardener wheeling a barrow appeared from around the corner of the building. He bowed his head respectfully to Magus and Sylvie and headed off towards the formal gardens.

‘So – no doubts then? You’d like to officially join our community in a couple of days’ time?’

‘Yes please! I’ve no doubts at all.’

Magus smiled and gave her a little hug as they stood side by side.

‘Good. And now I really must go to my office. I’ve completed my annual tour of the estate and there are so many reports to write up. I’ve got plans to—’

They were interrupted by Martin, a tall, sombre man who shared the blond Hallfolk hair but was a servant.

‘Sorry to intrude, sir, but there’s a call for you from London.’

‘Thanks, Martin. You’d better get back to your lessons, Sylvie. Tell your teacher I needed to talk with you. And Sylvie … I can’t wait till you become of one of us.’

Yul was busy once again adding the final touches to the bonfire in the Circle. He’d watched the Spring Equinox hare decorations on the great stones being washed off and repainted with images of the Green Man. Fennel once more climbed up and down a ladder, adding glints of gold to the faces sprouting oak leaves. Yul had another strong urge to knock him off the ladder, especially as
Fennel had been one of those involved in the incident at the Equinox, but he was learning to curb his temper and bide his time.

Buzz had just appeared in the vicinity, supposedly supervising some Village youngsters laying lanterns, but in reality throwing his weight around and showing off. Yul watched him from beneath lowered eyelids, trying not to attract any attention. He knew only too well that no Villager would ever dare defend him from Hallfolk victimisation. Buzz could bully him with impunity, as he’d always done.

It was while he was perched near the top of the massive bonfire that Buzz noticed him. Yul was stuffing a certain type of lichen-covered bark into gaps where it would burn with a blue-green flame when the fire was lit.

‘Look what we’ve got here – a monkey up a tree!’ cried Buzz, abandoning the lanterns and swaggering over to the bonfire. He’d put on some weight lately as well as growing taller, and was becoming quite bulky. Several of his cronies from the Hall turned around to look, and Fennel laughed.

‘Yeah, but with only half the brains of a monkey!’ he sneered, and promptly wobbled precariously on his ladder.

Even though the consequences were inevitable, Yul couldn’t ignore them.

‘Do take care, young master!’ he called. ‘You don’t look too safe up on that high ladder. Any minute now you’ll wobble too far and fall flat on your precious arse.’

Buzz growled at this, advancing closer to the bonfire. Yul was perfectly placed at the top, one leg wound around a thick supporting branch, his strong body braced and balanced. He gazed down at Buzz from his lofty height and then across at Fennel, trying to get down the ladder with some dignity. Yul made a show of rolling up his sleeves just to prove that he didn’t need to hold on at all.

‘Shut your ignorant mouth, boy!’ Buzz grunted, reaching the foot of the bonfire.

‘Or what?’

‘Or you’ll suffer. Worse than last time.’

‘I didn’t suffer at all last time. Chasing me into the woods – that’s hardly making me suffer, is it?’

‘Yeah, and Magus punished you. He told me.’

‘Punished me? Oh, you mean the bit of gardening at Woodland Cottage? That was no punishment. I enjoy gardening.’

Yul knew he was pushing his luck. Buzz was right; he’d suffer for this. He could never win; the odds were stacked too heavily against him. As Buzz glared up at him forming his reply, he noticed the residue of bruising around Yul’s eye.

‘Hah, a black eye! So someone else taught you a lesson.’

‘The bastard who gave me this could no more teach anyone a lesson than you could!’ retorted Yul sharply.

‘You come down here and say that!’

‘I know, why don’t you come up here and then I will! Though a great lump of lard like you couldn’t climb an anthill!’ Yul replied, an insolent grin on his face.

Enraged, Buzz started to climb the enormous bonfire. Very soon he was completely defeated, his legs trapped inside, his arms pulling wildly at the tangle of wood. Branches and brushwood fell out everywhere around him. Yul was still perched on the top laughing at Buzz’s humiliation, though the damage to the bonfire dismayed him. The other Hallfolk boys gathered around and yelled insults at Yul, throwing the dislodged sticks up at him to stop his mocking laughter.

One of the woodsmen ran to fetch Greenbough, working nearby. He came puffing up the Long Walk and when he saw the scene, nearly exploded with rage. He may only have been a Villager and they Hallfolk, but his precious bonfire came above such considerations. As the head of the woodsmen, his responsibility for the bonfire superseded any natural obedience towards Hallfolk. He burst into the Circle and roared at the youths.

‘Stop it! Get off that fire, you fools. ‘Tis the sacred bonfire for Beltane! Get off!’

He grabbed hold of Buzz, roughly pulling him free from the snarl of branches that held him fast. Greenbough was old but
had worked in the woods his entire life and was very strong indeed. He wasn’t worried about putting a pup like Buzz in his place, Hallfolk or not. Buzz was yanked off balance and fell heavily onto the ground.

‘Stupid bloody idiot!’ he shouted, his face scarlet.

‘You show some respect for your elders,’ growled Greenbough. ‘Now bugger off away from this here fire or I’ll kick your arse all the way back to the Hall.’

Trying to muster any remaining shreds of dignity, the large blond youth picked himself up and stalked off. But not before he’d pointed up at Yul and spoken slowly and distinctly.

‘You wait, Yul! You’re
dead
.’

S
ylvie lay in the white marble bath at the Hall soaking in sumptuous bluebell bath oil. Steam from the enormous tub rose in fragrant clouds around her head, misting up the gilt mirrors. This was the best bathroom of all and she was lucky to have got it; usually she used one of the ordinary bathrooms down the corridor.

She sighed and closed her eyes. Tonight was May Eve. Her heart raced with excitement at the thought of the ceremony at the Stone Circle, and she was looking forward to May Day tomorrow too. Then the day after that was another full moon. Sylvie couldn’t believe it was four weeks already since the last one. She sat up in the bath, steam eddying around her, hair hanging like pieces of string about her flushed face. Time to get ready now. Her white dress hung in a room in the girls’ dormitory wing. Tonight she’d be making her vows and she couldn’t wait.

Yul too was getting ready for the ceremony. The bonfire had been repaired and he’d received a wallop from Greenbough when he’d leapt down to the ground after Buzz’s departure. The old man knew it wasn’t Yul’s fault, but was furious that the sacred fire had been put in jeopardy. Yul accepted this tough discipline, knowing he’d deliberately goaded Buzz. He now lay in a chipped enamel tub in a small cubicle in the Village bath house, a world away from Sylvie’s white marble opulence. No clouds of fragrant bluebell steam for Yul – his water was tepid and he washed with plain
rosemary soap. But he enjoyed the comparative luxury of it and was looking forward to the night ahead. Like everyone at Stonewylde, the festivals were the cornerstones of his existence and he loved them.