Moondance of Stonewylde (37 page)

Then they heard sounds from outside that made them both freeze in terror – the jingle of metal and the snicker of a horse. Yul jerked away, abruptly releasing her from the fierce embrace, his breathing audible in the silence.

‘Sacred Mother, that’s Nightwing!’ he hissed. ‘Magus has come to check up on me!’

She gazed at him in mute terror, aware of the consequences if they were found like this.

‘There’s an outside door at the end of this store,’ he whispered urgently. ‘I’ll go back into the press room and talk to him. You get out and run like the wind back to the Barn. Sylvie, be very careful – don’t make any noise.’

She nodded and began to tiptoe into the deeper shadows of the barrel room towards the far end. He dashed into the other room and started to pull frantically at the straw of the apple cheese, flinging great handfuls of it into one of the bins. The door opened and the two lanterns flickered slightly. Magus’ blond hair shimmered in the soft light, his dark eyes fathomless in the shadows. He stood in the doorway, tall and broad-shouldered, surveying the scene. If he noticed Yul’s quick breathing and nervousness, he said nothing. He walked in and shut the door behind him, tapping his boot with his riding whip.

‘Good evening, Yul.’

‘Good evening, sir.’

Yul stopped ripping at the straw and turned to face Magus. He concentrated on not looking into the dark doorway of the barrel
room, doing nothing that could give away Sylvie’s presence. He needed to mask any sounds she might make in her exit, so he nudged the straw bin with his foot. It shifted loudly on the stone floor.

‘Stop fidgeting, boy. I dropped by to make sure you’re not slacking, and just as well, it seems. You haven’t got very far, have you? Stag told me you’re dismantling this cheese tonight, but you’ve barely started. Do you have any idea how late it is? You’ll be here half the night.’

‘I’m sorry, sir, it was the press. It was difficult to turn the wheel to release it by myself and it took me a long time.’

Magus frowned at him, the lines around his mouth sharp.

‘I find that hard to believe. One thing that’s struck me recently is how much you’ve grown.’

He stepped forward and reached out to feel Yul’s bare upper arm, squeezing the muscles with iron-grip fingers. Yul steeled himself not to recoil from Magus’ touch.

‘Well, well! Even stronger than I’d imagined. I don’t believe you had any trouble raising the press. Far more likely you’ve just been dawdling about. Don’t let me keep you, boy. You’ve a good couple of hours’ work ahead, and you must be up early in the morning so I suggest you get on with it and stop wasting time. You’re going to be very tired tomorrow with so little sleep.’

He smiled at Yul and raised his whip to stroke the thin white scar on Yul’s tanned cheek.

‘I see you still bear my mark. Let it be a constant reminder to you, Yul, of what happens if you defy me. You may be free of Alwyn now, but you’re not free of me. Whatever you do I shall be watching and waiting, ready to correct you if you stray in any way whatsoever. I’m taking a personal interest in you, Yul, so be very careful. One step out of line and I shall come down on you hard.’

He tapped his boot again with the whip, his meaning clear.

‘Goodnight, Yul.’

‘Goodnight, sir.’

T
he Autumn Equinox was approaching and Yul was particularly looking forward to the festival as he’d been working at full stretch all month. A couple of days before the Equinox, Edward, who’d co-ordinated the harvest labour, took Yul to one side and told him to go back to Old Greenbough in the woods where he was needed more urgently. Yul grinned in relief at this news for he was sick of the sight of apples.

‘You’ve worked really hard, lad,’ said Edward, clapping him on the back. ‘I’m proud of you. Magus told me to give you an extra heavy load and so I have done, but you’ve borne it well and not complained once. It’s certainly built up your strength, hasn’t it?’

Yul nodded, knowing this was true. Greenbough would appreciate the change in him.

‘When are you an adult?’ asked Edward.

‘Winter Solstice, sir.’

‘Well you’ve done the work of two men this harvest-time so you won’t have any problems. Is your mother coping alright without your father? I been worried that with him up in the hospital and you working every hour of the day for Magus, she might be struggling.’

‘It’s difficult for her, sir. There’s lots of work to be done at home and I’ve always helped with it, but this year I’m barely there at all. Rosie’s busy at the dairy, and my two brothers are
still too young to do the heavy stuff. And there’re the three little ones to cope with too. She’s finding it hard.’

‘In that case I’ll stop loading you with extra duties in the evening. I’ll let Magus know, so don’t you worry about that. You’ll be working hard at home and he can check on that if he wants to. ‘Tis not fair that your mother and family should suffer because Magus wants to punish you. I’m sure he never intended that. What had you done anyway?’

Yul shrugged, as ever at a loss of words to explain the antipathy that Magus felt towards him.

‘He’s just got it in for me. He doesn’t need a reason to punish me.’

Edward frowned down at him and shook his burly head.

‘I don’t like the tone of your voice, lad. Magus is always just – sometimes hard, I’ll give you that – but always just. You show the proper respect for him or you’ll feel the weight of my hand. He’s a good master and a truly great man. You should be giving thanks to Magus for his generosity and his bounty.’

Yul bit back the retort that it was the labour of the Villagers and the bounty of the Earth Goddess that ensured their comfort, not Magus’ generosity. He liked Edward and didn’t want to make an enemy of him. Unlike Tom and Greenbough, whom Yul had sensed were becoming disillusioned about the true greatness of Magus, Edward was very loyal.

‘I’m sorry, sir. I meant no disrespect,’ he said, backtracking quickly. ‘At some point in the past I displeased Magus. He doesn’t need to justify punishing me whenever he wants, if he chooses to do so. That’s what I meant and I’m sorry if it sounded like I was speaking against him.’

The giant of a man looked down at him and ruffled his hair.

‘Fair enough, lad, fair enough. And you’re right, he doesn’t need to justify himself to us. We must just obey and not question. The master is the master after all. But I stand by what I said – you stay at home in the evenings and help your mother.’

Greenbough was delighted to have Yul back again.

‘Thought you’d become a farmer, boy!’ he growled, giving Yul a great slap on the arm. He knew what a hard life Yul had led and felt affection and respect for the dark-haired boy who took whatever was dished out and still kept his chin up and the light in his eyes blazing. And Yul was a damn good worker too.

‘We got the bonfire up in the Circle to start. We’re going up there now and most likely tomorrow too, and ‘tis the Equinox the day after. Then it’s the oak woods and pigs to organise. Bloody pannage! The bane of my life every autumn, them pigs are, rooting up everything with their snouts. I’d sooner collect up the acorns and give ’em each a bucket-full than have ’em messing up my woodland, and I says so every damn year.’

Yul grinned at this. Greenbough’s grumpiness during the pannage season and his contempt for pigs was legendary, although he enjoyed his ham, bacon and blood pudding along with the rest of them.

Yul started to shake as he and the group of woodsmen approached the Stone Circle. With his increased workload he hadn’t been up here for almost three weeks, and had felt an ache deep in his soul. The green magic called to him, needing him for its release from the dragon lines in the Earth. The other men headed straight for the site of the bonfire at the opposite end and stood around waiting for the horse and cart to bring the wood. Yul took a deep breath to steady himself and walked with a straight back towards the Altar Stone. Fortunately the painters who decorated the stones hadn’t yet arrived and he was alone in this part of the circle.

He approached the stone and felt an immense pull, a surge of the force snaking towards him, seeking him out. As he drew close there was a mighty flash of green and he felt something leap inside him. The energy poured into him, drenching him, flooding him. He sprang up onto the horizontal stone, his feet barely able to make contact with the rock. He groaned aloud, overwhelmed by the sensation. He’d never known it this strong, and closed his
eyes in silent thanks to the Goddess. With her magic inside him he could face anything.

Then the cart arrived and the woodsmen began building the bonfire. Although still agile and now throbbing with new strength, Yul found that he was no longer able to slither up the framework like a squirrel. He’d grown too tall and heavy. A young lad who’d joined the woodsmen at Lammas was now the one who’d be sent up to the top of the bonfire with the bag of brushwood strapped to his back.

Yul stood watching the boy climb the first timbers and felt an unexpected moment of sadness. He’d always longed to be a man, wanting the size and strength that maturity would bring so he could stand up to Alwyn and look after his family. And now at last he’d realised this ambition, but the blitheness of boyhood was lost, gone forever. In that moment, Yul understood one of life’s hardest lessons: nothing is truly gained without something being lost.

The artists arrived soon after and a group of Villagers began to clean the stones of the Lammas symbols. A horse and cart had brought the buckets of water, tallow soap and scrubbing brushes, along with the ladders and paints. Merewen the potter’s daughter was in charge as usual, gathering the painters around her and discussing the patterns and symbols they’d use this festival. Once the stones were dry, they began to sketch the Autumn Equinox designs in chalk and charcoal. The acorn was the main symbol, to signify the fruit of the harvest and the seed of new life already produced, ensuring the never-ending cycle of growth, death and new growth. All around it they drew blackberries, apples, hazel-nuts, and corncobs and the creatures of autumn: the squirrel and dormouse, the leaping deer and the hedgehog.

Busy constructing the frame of the bonfire, Yul felt happy to be working with wood once again. Harvesting was all very well, but it was wood and trees that he loved best. The day passed quickly as there was much to be done in preparation for the festival. Yul was aware of the painters working all around him, and kept well out of the way of the Hallfolk among them. Fennel
seemed worse than usual, and Yul guessed he was enjoying a new sense of power with Buzz gone. Rainbow, Fennel’s younger sister, was in the painting group for the first time, but rather than encouraging her Fennel constantly criticized her work. Yul felt a flicker of sympathy for the girl and was glad when Merewen stepped in. Rainbow was taken to the largest upright stone that stood behind the Altar, and Merewen told her to begin sketching out the design. It was an honour to paint this stone, the focal point during the ceremony.

‘Take no notice of him,’ said Merewen gruffly, patting the girl’s shoulder. ‘He’s just jealous. You’ve far more talent than him, Rainbow, and he knows it. He doesn’t like the fact that you’ve been coming to me for lessons either.’

Rainbow smiled at the dark-haired Village woman, one of the few who seemed to command Hallfolk respect. Merewen took no nonsense from anyone, and as a gifted artist she enjoyed an undisputed status at Stonewylde. She left the girl roughing out the great cornucopia that always adorned the largest stone during this festival. Glancing over every so often, Yul could see that Merewen was right; Rainbow was talented and deft. The design grew quickly under her sure hand, the cornucopia spilling out its harvest bounty in a cascade of abundance.

The sun was low in the sky when Greenbough decided to call it a day.

‘Come on, men, home we go. Don’t know about you lot, but I got a tasty rabbit pie waiting for me.’

They packed up their tools, leaving them stacked ready for the morning, and trooped towards the Long Walk leading from the Stone Circle.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow, sir!’ called Yul. ‘I’m going to stay up here a bit longer.’

‘Right enough, son. See you back here in the morning.’

Yul glanced at the sky, and then impatiently at the painters who were also packing up their things and leaving. Soon it would be sunset and he wanted to be here alone. Fennel wandered over
to where Rainbow was fiddling with the first coat of paint on her design.

‘We’re off now,’ he said. ‘Are you coming or what?’

She glanced at him and shook her head, turning back to the great horn of plenty she’d spent the afternoon creating.

‘Suit yourself. It’s no good sulking, Rainbow.’

‘I’m not sulking. I just want to finish this base coat. Merewen’s really pleased with it.’

‘Well of course she’d say that. She’s only trying to make you feel better about your first bungled attempts. You’ll see – in the morning she’ll come and add her own images until yours are almost hidden underneath. I’ve seen her do it before to new artists, so don’t kid yourself, Rainbow.’

He sauntered off, joining the others who were leaving the Circle. Rainbow stood back from the stone looking at it critically. Then she scrambled up onto the Altar Stone to get a different angle. Yul cursed silently. The sun was a golden ball, sinking rapidly in the sky. He needed to get on the stone himself. He glanced around and realised that everyone else had gone. Frowning, he came out from behind the bonfire where he’d been waiting and went over towards the girl on the stone. She stood dejectedly.