Moondance of Stonewylde (24 page)

Magus’s gaze moved on to the Hallfolk. Buzz was nowhere in sight and Magus imagined he’d gone back to the Hall in shame. The group he hung around with were particularly noisy and had clearly forgotten how Hallfolk should conduct themselves. He’d have to speak to them. Wren was with them and smiled across at him a little knowingly. He noticed Professor Siskin, sitting on a deck chair enjoying his cucumber sandwiches. The old man raised his panama in greeting and Magus nodded.

Then he saw Hazel sitting next to Miranda and smiled broadly. He knew Hazel would do whatever he asked. Both women were looking across at where Sylvie sat with Clip, and Hazel was talking earnestly whilst Miranda nodded. He was pleased with Hazel and must make sure he showed his appreciation. He knew exactly how to keep her happy. Someone was waving at him and he realised it was the charming young woman he’d visited at the last Moon Fullness. She’d be returning to the Outside World soon and he must visit her again before she left. Magus sighed as he bit into another scone – life was good indeed. He put his hand on the stone egg and accepted another cup of his favourite Lapsang Souchong from Marigold.

Tea over, the teams returned to the pitch. As Magus walked across the Green to bat, the whole community circling the Green stood up and cheered. He acknowledged the adulation with a slight incline of his head, his long legs in the cricket whites carrying him gracefully across the distance to the wicket. His blond hair gleamed in the sunlight and he nodded at the Village bowler to indicate his readiness. His face took on an expression of concentration; he intended to excel himself today.

Almost an hour later Magus was still batting. He looked magnificent; tall, powerful and shimmering with vitality. Yul knew where his strength had come from and felt a flash of white-hot rage shoot through him. Magus sweated in the heat, his bronzed face gleaming with perspiration. He was playing superbly, never
better. He felt amazingly strong and wondered how much professional sports people would pay for access to such special energy. He smiled to himself. He hadn’t thought of Sylvie’s gift in terms of making profits, but here was another way she could be of use. He could make a great deal of money out of the eggs, the joy being that it was a renewable resource. Sylvie could be made to channel the moon magic every single month. Thirteen loads of eggs a year! She’d managed the twenty eight eggs fairly easily. With practice and training she could do considerably more. He smiled broadly and whacked the ball to score another six.

When Yul’s turn came to bowl, Magus’ features broke into a sardonic smile at the sight of a mere boy opposing him. In Magus’ dark eyes, Yul read all the arrogance and superiority in which this man luxuriated. He truly believed that he was a god, that he was invincible. As he faced Magus across the cricket pitch, something deep within Yul snapped. With a tiny skip and a thudding heart, he started his run towards the wicket. Magus flexed his grip on the bat and narrowed his eyes in concentration, more than confident of dealing with anything the boy could offer.

The cricket ball felt like a missile in Yul’s hand as he flew along his run, gathering tremendous speed, well-muscled arms and legs perfectly in synchronisation. He kept the gleaming, supercilious face in his sights as the ball launched hard from his hand like a rocket, flying in the fastest bowl ever towards its target. Magus seemed to move in slow motion. His eyes widened in surprise at the speed and velocity of the red ball hurtling towards him. He started to react, adjusting himself to intercept this unexpected and deadly marksmanship. But fast as he was, he wasn’t fast enough. Yul’s deadly shot had found its target. The bails went flying from the wicket in a great arc and the Villagers exploded into a roar of triumph that shook the trees and scattered the pigeons to the skies.

Across the expanse of grass, Yul’s grey eyes met Magus’ black ones. Yul nodded. Magus nodded back.

‘Excellent bowling, young man!’ he called down the pitch. ‘I congratulate you.’

As Magus walked off in dignified style to great applause, Yul glanced again at Sylvie. She was laughing with delight.

The celebration in the Village pub that night was riotous. Yul sat amongst the group of men and felt on top of the world. The great silver trophy cup was filled to the brim with Lammas mead, brewed extra strong and heavy with the taste of malt. It was handed round from man to man, mouth to mouth, each sipping then passing it on. Very soon Yul felt the effects of the powerful drink. The speeches began and Yul became increasingly embarrassed by the over-effusive praise.

‘But it wasn’t just me!’ he protested. ‘We all batted well, and loads of you got them out when we were fielding.’

‘Aye, but you caught out that puffed up Buzz on his very first ball!’

‘Did you see his face? Hah! Cocky little bastard! That burst his bubble, right enough! Never did like him.’

‘Didn’t I always say Yul was something special?’ shouted Greenbough proudly.

‘And that ball you done at Magus! I never seen anything like it, lad.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘But nothing! Magus was on a winning streak, all set for another century. If you hadn’t bowled him out the Hallfolk would’ve won.’

‘Yet again! I hate it when the Hallfolk win.’

‘Three cheers for Yul!’

Yul had never in his life received so much adulation. Even though at one point he fell asleep on a pew, when he woke up later it started all over again. The earlier rowdiness had calmed down a little and there was more chance to talk. Yul was pleased when Tom came over and patted him on the shoulder.

‘Well done, Yul! A great catch and a great bowl!’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Tom, not sir. We’re all friends and equals in this pub. None o’ that cap doffing rubbish here.’

Yul grinned.

‘Thank you, Tom.’

‘You’re very brave, lad, challenging Magus the way you do. Today you could’ve let him carry on scoring. Every year there’s always a bother about getting Magus out. I seen men many a time deliberately fumble catches and give him easy balls because they don’t want to be the one who gets him out.’

‘Really?’ It had never occurred to Yul not to do his utmost to get Magus out.

‘Oh aye, and you did it on your first ball, like it were easy! It takes a good deal of courage to stand up to a man like Magus, especially after what he’s put you through in the past. I reckon you’re the only one at Stonewylde who’ll do it. Can’t think of anyone else, Villager or Hallfolk, who’d challenge him like that, and yet you have more cause than most to fear him. It ain’t gone unnoticed, you know. People talk of what you’ve done, Yul. Talk and wonder at it.’

‘They do? I haven’t done much.’

‘You’ve defied the man – look at the Solstice ceremony! He dropped that torch and ‘twas you as picked it up and lit it again – I saw it. You used your fingers and nothing else. I saw the blue flames with my own eyes! You’ve got something in you and he don’t like it. But we do, us Villagers. ‘Tis about time somebody broke that man’s power.’

Yul stared at Tom in amazement. He had never, ever heard anyone talking like this. He’d thought he was the only one who resented Magus’ arrogance and domination.

‘Anyhow, enough o’ this,’ said Tom, resuming the heartiness of earlier. ‘You drink down this last bit of mead, my boy. You earned it. Right enough, everyone? Let’s hear it again for Yul, the Villager who took on the master and beat him!’

It was very late when Yul finally decided he must go home to his bed. He said his farewells to much cheering and staggered out onto the Green, where he stood swaying slightly on the site
of his earlier glory. He remembered the two high spots of the match: Buzz’s crimson face as he was caught out first ball, and Magus’ expression of shock as he realised the ball flying towards him would bowl him and there was nothing he could do about it. Yul savoured those moments again and knew he’d remember them for the rest of his life.

He looked around the great circle of the Green. It was shadowy under the sparkling stars and tilted yellow moon and he felt the magic of the place, a different magic to that of the Stone Circle. This was a power from within, something deep in his soul emerging, a magic that the Village Green brought out of him rather than put in. He gazed at the great yew and thought of what he intended to do there one day, picturing himself and Sylvie lying entwined under the protection of the sacred boughs. Then, feeling a little uncoordinated from the strong mead, he headed along the track to his home. He wanted to lie flat on his bed as everything had now started to spin.

A fist flew out of nowhere and cracked him full on the cheekbone. Yul went flying into the hedge and lay sprawled and confused, his head ringing from the blow. His initial thought was that Alwyn had returned, but he shook his head. Alwyn was out of action; a living corpse up at the Hall. Then he was yanked out of the hedge by his shirt and shoved hard in the back. He fell face down onto the stony track and the weight of someone heavy thudded onto his back, crushing him. He felt an excruciating pain and vomited as the strong mead was forced out of his stomach.

‘Oh shit, he’s puking!’ yelled Buzz, hastily scrambling off. Yul dragged himself up onto all fours and continued to heave. He was aware of a circle of feet surrounding him and judged there were five or six of them. He was sobering up quickly in the face of danger and being on the ground amidst all those feet was not a good position. Yul staggered upright, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, surrounded by the gang of Hallfolk youths.

‘I’m going to teach you a lesson once and for all!’ growled Buzz. His speech was clumsy and his words came out garbled.
‘I came back especially for that cricket match. I organised my whole summer holiday so I’d be able to play today. I never even had a chance to bat, thanks to you, you little bastard. You need to learn your place, boy. Isn’t that right, lads?’

They chorused agreement. Yul smelt the alcohol on them and it was nothing that he’d ever come across at Stonewylde. Buzz must have brought it back with him from Outside. Yul tried to think straight; with all of them so drunk he was in considerable danger. If they got him down on the ground and started kicking, they might actually kill him. He had to escape, and fast.

‘You’re going to regret catching me out like that,’ slurred Buzz. He shoved Yul hard into one of the others, who thrust him back equally hard. ‘I’m going to beat the shit out of you! I’m going to smash you to a pulp, you ignorant bloody peasant! When I’ve finished you’ll never play cricket again!’

They flung him back and forth across the circle, yelling insults and trying to unbalance him. As he was thrown around, Yul deliberately fell harder than he needed into each one. This made them step back each time, unsteady as they were, widening the tight circle a little. As soon as he saw a gap, he pretended to fall, then sprang out through the space between them and ran full pelt up the track.

‘Quick, he’s got away! Catch him!’

But Yul was much faster than any of them. He’d brought up the contents of his stomach and was feeling better than they were. Buzz in particular was out of condition after being away for much of the summer. Yul raced ahead into the woods, and soon lost them. He could hear them way behind him, crashing about in the undergrowth and yelling threats and obscenities at him. He ran lightly through the woods and decided to go up to the Stone Circle. All he wanted was to lie down and sleep, but he didn’t dare head home in case they were waiting for him.

In the yellow light of the waning moon, now tipped very low on the horizon as it set, Yul approached the sacred stones. He felt the sheer grandeur and magic of the silent place. He apologised to the powers that walked there for his intoxication, trying to clear
his thoughts as he entered the sacred space. He felt an almost tangible presence there – neither benign nor hostile, but immensely powerful. With a straight back and raised chin he carefully stepped onto the soft earth of the ancient arena and walked across to the great Altar Stone. He’d been coming here now almost every day for the past few weeks, but familiarity didn’t make the place any less awe-inspiring. He vaulted up onto the waist-high altar and lay down. Immediately the force spiralled up around him; pure, green energy. All the places that hurt from Buzz’s ambush throbbed less painfully.

He looked at the bright stars above, the familiar patterns in the sky. He picked out the great arch of the Milky Way, so beautiful it made the breath catch in his throat. Buzz and his friends faded into insignificance. Yul was acutely aware that he was just one tiny human being lying under such vast beauty. He felt the energy of the Earth Mother pouring up, greeting the starlit dome of the heavens with spirals of movement and power. He was caught in the glorious interaction of sky and earth, lying on one of the points where their forces met. Like Sylvie at the time of Moon Fullness, his body and spirit were in harmony with these forces; a perfect receptor and conduit through which they could pass. Yul fell asleep on the great stone as the stars danced their stately patterns above him and the Earth turned beneath him.

Y
ul was awoken long after sunrise the next morning. The sun was warm on his skin as he opened his eyes. He could see nothing at first; his head was muzzy and the light blinding, but then a dark figure moved and blocked the sun’s brightness. The silhouette was unmistakably Magus and Yul’s heart began to thud. He sat up quickly, blinking, scrambling upright. Magus moved round slightly and Yul saw his face. The man had obviously come straight from Mooncliffe for he was glowing with energy. Yul sensed it pulsating through him and wondered whether Magus in turn could sense the green energy swirling around him. They faced each other and Yul held his gaze, determined not to show any fear or subservience.