Magus of Stonewylde Book One (15 page)

The massed voices of the community in the Stone Circle, the stars peppering the sky above, the waxing gibbous moon shining through the trees; Sylvie gazed around in silent wonder. She felt the energy – whether from the community or Mother Earth, or maybe both – throbbing within the Circle, and within herself too. She glanced at her mother. Miranda stood swaying, her eyes closed, as she finally abandoned her scepticism and began to understand.

The Green Man and the May Queen were spectacular. Magus wore a green costume sewn with leaves of every kind, and his face and body were painted green. He was unrecognisable as the handsome master of the community. His crown was a wreath of woven foliage and even his silvery hair was green and full of leaves. He’d become the embodiment of the male spirit of growth, the potent force to impregnate the fertile earth.

The girl chosen to be May Queen was as lovely as Dawn had said. She had glossy brown hair hanging down in rich waves, held in place by a wreath of hawthorn blossom interlaced with bluebells. Her face glowed with excitement, cheeks rosy and eyes bright. There really was a look of wholesome earthiness about her, a ripeness waiting to be tasted. She wore a gauzy white dress, the tight bodice emphasising her young, full curves and a swirling skirt revealing bare calves and feet.

Sylvie loved the feel of the soil under her own bare feet. She felt in tune with the earth and all the people who’d danced on this sacred ground before. The stones were so very ancient; she tried to imagine the countless people who must have celebrated
here over the centuries. Magus led the chanting and the people echoed him, their voices weaving around the flutes and drums. His deep voice filled the arena as he sang. He invoked the spirit of the Green Man, calling on him to bless the folk of Stonewylde with his virility and spirit of growth, and to enter the Circle tonight.

Sylvie felt something change, her subconscious picking up a difference in the drumming and a collective ripple of excitement. She watched as the children approached the Green Man and May Queen for the communion of mead and cakes. She saw Yul move towards the Altar Stone, his dark curls gleaming in the firelight. Magus had told Miranda and Sylvie to wait and not go forward at this point; their turn would come later. So they stood, moving to the rhythm, watching as everyone else shuffled along to receive their ladle of mead and saffron cake.

They sensed the transformation in the atmosphere after the sharing of cake and wine. The energy was raised even further until it seemed that the whole Circle vibrated and pulsated with it. The firelight and blazing torches created a flickering light, making the images of the Green Man painted on the stones appear to move and grin. Sylvie felt his spirit really had entered the place and was now present amongst the community.

When everyone had taken communion, two thrones decorated with greenery and flowers were brought forward. The Green Man and the May Queen were seated and the drumming slowed and quietened until only the soft sweet music of the pipes and flutes could be heard. There was an expectant hush and everyone became still.

‘Tonight we have two newcomers in our midst,’ came the powerful voice of Magus. ‘Two people from the Outside World.’

There was a collective sigh; Sylvie’s body thrilled sharply.

‘Miranda and Sylvie, come forward.’

Miranda took Sylvie’s hand and gave it a little squeeze, then together they stepped into the centre of the circle and approached the Green Man and May Queen. Sylvie felt she was in another world. This experience was far beyond anything she’d ever heard
of or read about. Magus had become the Green Man in a way she’d never have thought possible, seeming to have lost his own identity to transform into the spirit of Beltane. He was huge, masculine and very green, his face unrecognisable behind the pigment, his eyes gleaming. The beautiful May Queen embodied young, fresh femininity and was his perfect counterfoil, glowing whitely next to him like the blossom in the greenery all around Stonewylde. Neither of them seemed real any more.

Firelight danced on the primeval pair as it had done throughout the ages on other Beltane partnerships; this was religion at its most elemental and rooted. All around them the throng of people waited in silence, eyes bright with reflected flames and the communion they’d just shared, faces sheened by the heat generated in the Circle. Then another figure stepped forward, staff in hand. Clip was dressed in ceremonial robes too, brilliant green embroidered with gold thread, depicting faces of the Green Man encircled with emblems of the radiant sun. He stood between the thrones and addressed the mother and daughter, twinkling grey eyes belying the solemnity of his words.

‘Miranda and Sylvie, you have lived in Stonewylde for a short while. Do you now want to make the commitment to join our community and become part of our way of life?’

‘We do,’ they chorused.

‘Will you uphold our laws, will you live by our values, and will you take Magus to be your lord and master, obeying him in all things, and accepting that in the community of Stonewylde, his word is the law?’

‘We will.’

‘Will you enter into the spirit of our community, celebrating the joy of the life force of this earth, taking part in all our ceremonies and rituals? Will you honour the Earth Mother and the Solar Father, the mystical union of the two great spirits of female and male, who together hold the life of the planet in balance and continuous regeneration? Will you celebrate with us the Eight Ceremonies in the Wheel of the Year, the Solstices, Equinoxes and Cross Quarter Festivals, handed down to us by
our ancestors? Will you take as your own the symbol of the Sacred Pentangle, representing the five elements which govern the planet and all who live on it – Earth, Air, Fire, Water and Spirit?’

‘We will.’

‘And will you join us in celebrating the magical power represented by the Moon Goddess? She who governs our souls, who waxes and wanes to the rhythm of the earth and the seasons, who ensures our regeneration and our fertility and fecundity, and who ripens every month just as our women ripen?’

‘We will.’

‘And finally, newcomers, will you enter into the spirit of our sacred landscape at Stonewylde? Will you serve the land and the forces of nature with your lives and your hearts? Will you contribute to our community the gifts you have been given, dedicating your souls to Stonewylde?’

‘We will.’

Clip bowed. Magus stood up from his throne, a massive figure of green virility, and took a couple of steps towards them. He too bowed.

‘Miranda and Sylvie,’ he said. ‘You have made sacred promises tonight to become as us, part of the community of Stonewylde. You have made these promises in the Stone Circle, a place of ancient power, and in front of our people. You are now bound by these promises. As the Magus, I offer you lives of joy and fulfilment. You will never want for food, for shelter, for companionship. You are part of our community and in return for your hard work, loyalty and obedience, I promise you will lack for nothing. You are also free to leave if you so wish, but you must swear never to speak in the Outside World of our community or our ways. By the magic which we are able to invoke and to cast, I warn you that should you ever speak of us Outside, you will be cursed and suffer accordingly. Do you accept this condition?’

‘We do.’

Magus stepped forward again. He bent and kissed Miranda and then Sylvie, his green lips brushing their mouths. He turned
them around, one on either side and took their hands. They faced the roaring fire and the mass of faces glimmering in the flickering light. He raised their hands with his and cried out.

‘Folk of Stonewylde, we welcome Miranda and Sylvie into our family! They are now members of our community!’

A great roar of approval reverberated around the Stone Circle, so powerful it made Sylvie quake. She was close to tears and guessed her mother felt the same. They were part of something magical and ancient.

‘And now they will eat, drink and dance to the Spirit of the Green Man and the May Queen, to the magic of Beltane.’

Clip bought forward a round wooden tray of ancient wood, upon which sat two small pottery goblets and two speckled cakes. He bowed and offered them to Magus, who took the green-glazed goblets and handed them to Miranda and Sylvie.

‘Drink of the mead, elixir of Stonewylde, and become one with us.’

They tipped back the goblets and swallowed the sweet liquid. Sylvie felt its fire course down her throat and into her stomach. A glow expanded inside her.

‘Eat of the fruits of Stonewylde, and join us in sharing the Earth.’

They each took a cake and bit into it. Sylvie felt a strange sensation take hold. She swallowed the rest, and within seconds the world began to change. Her lips tingled and tongue felt numb. Her head had become separate, almost, everything inside it colourful and blossoming. Her body was on fire with passion; prickling, twitching, superhuman. She looked up at the great Green Man next to her and it seemed that everything was in slow motion. She smiled at him, a blissful smile, and he smiled back, teeth white in his green face. He squeezed her hand, his eyes blazing into her soul.

The drums started up again and Sylvie felt herself move involuntarily, all shyness gone. Magus, Clip and the May Queen stepped back and Sylvie was left in the centre of the Stone Circle with her mother. They began to dance, moving to the rhythm of
the drumming. The strange floating sensation was still within her and she felt so light, as if she could fly. She laughed at the freedom of spirit as her feet skimmed the earth, following the spiral pattern of energy on the soft floor. The Green Men painted on the stones flickered and grinned, quickened by the magic of the ceremony. Mother and daughter danced under their gaze; the primeval dance of Beltane for the regeneration of the Earth Goddess. She who lay breathing beneath their feet.

After a while the drums changed again, signalling the children, young mothers and the older generation to return down the Long Walk to their beds. The rest of the community stayed in the Stone Circle for the Handfasting and Rites of Adulthood. These rituals continued long into the night; many couples would celebrate the joy of union in the bluebell woods surrounding the ancient Circle. Those leaving formed a procession and began to move down the Long Walk. As a fertile adult, Miranda should have stayed behind to join in the rituals, but Magus had asked her to wait till another time. They were silent with exhilaration as they followed the lantern-lit walk.

Sylvie was unaware of Yul close by in the shadows watching her. The sight of Sylvie dancing in the Stone Circle had inflamed his soul and now he burned for her. She was so ethereally beautiful, so delicate and enchanting. Everything had slid into place and all was laid out before him, clear and bright. Yul no longer felt confused; he now knew exactly what he wanted. He still tingled from the cake and mead and had to force himself to hang back and keep out of her sight. This new-found certainty could not be rushed; Sylvie had now joined the community and would be staying at Stonewylde. The future was his but must be entered slowly.

At least he was safe tonight from Buzz and his gang; as adults they’d remain in the Stone Circle for the further rituals and then stay out all night in the woods. Yul knew what went on at Beltane Eve in the Stone Circle and amongst the bluebells in the ancient oak woods. He was relieved that Sylvie was too young to join them. The thought of her larking around in the woods all night,
with Buzz on the loose, made his blood run cold.

The Hallfolk turned off from the Long Walk onto the track leading to the Hall, and the Villagers carried on towards the Village. Everyone wished each other a joyful Beltane and Yul managed to catch Sylvie’s eye in the lantern light. She smiled at him and raised her hand in a little wave. He nodded, feeling suddenly shy, and trudged off towards the Village to his waiting bed. Before the final bend he glanced back and saw her blond hair and white dress glimmering as she disappeared into the darkness with the other Hallfolk. He recalled the last festival when he’d followed Holly down to the Barn. He smiled to himself. He’d known nothing then, understood nothing. That attraction was just a pale and false imitation of his feelings now. He wondered for a moment how it would be at the next festival – the Summer Solstice. He thought of the magical girl who danced like an angel for the Moon Goddess, and felt a sudden prickle of premonition snake down his spine. His whole world would have changed by then. Everything would be different.

T
he Stone Circle was very different the following morning in the grey, pre-dawn chill. The great stones rose from a wispy mist that swirled above the beaten earth inside the Circle. There were many people present, though nothing compared to the previous night when the whole community had filled the arena. The great bonfire had died down to a smouldering white-hot pile of ash. People lay curled up and sound asleep in their cloaks, as close to the heat as they dared. Sylvie glanced around. Of Magus and Rowan there was no sign, but Clip was there and directed others to awaken the sleepers. Sylvie shivered in the cold half-light and edged closer to the bonfire, spreading her hands to the radiant heat.

‘Blessings, Sylvie,’ said Clip, spotting her as he prodded curled-up bodies with his staff. ‘A Bright Beltane to you.’

‘And to you,’ she smiled. ‘Isn’t it freezing?’

‘You’ll get used to it,’ he said. ‘Just wait till the Winter Solstice sunrise – now that is cold! Is Miranda not with you?’