Solstice at Stonewylde Page 10

  ‘No, she always despised Elm more than Basil. And Sol were ever his father’s son in that respect.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Sol were a thug as a boy, a real bully, and he used to fight the Village boys and beat ’em badly. Elm sent both boys away to school in the Outside World as soon as they was old enough. Mind you, that were after Raven had died.’

  They poured some more tea, clearly ready for a good old gossip about the past, but much as she wanted to hear all this fascinating detail, Sylvie was very conscious of the time. Her mother could be looking for her and she had to get the hair to Mother Heggy tomorrow.

  ‘So you think there may be some of Magus’ hair in this album?’ she asked.

  ‘Aye, I do. Old Rosemary, she used to keep an album all about the two little boys as they grew. It were a big leather book full of photographs o’ them that Hallfolk took, drawings they’d done and suchlike. And I’m sure she kept locks of their hair in that album from when they was very little. Now where would it be, Cherry? Can you remember?’

  ‘’Tis in that room where old Siskin works sometimes. You know, where all them papers and framed photographs are kept. We’ll have to rummage.’

  Sylvie started to get up. They both looked at her in surprise.

  ‘Not now, maid!’ said Marigold. ‘’Tis far too late. The Hallfolk are about and they’d see us if we started rifling and rummaging now.’

  ‘We’ll have a look tomorrow, dear,’ said Cherry. ‘Don’t you worry – I can go in that room nice and early to get the cleaning done and nobody’d think twice. We have to be careful o’ Martin, for he’d snitch as soon as look at us. But in the morning he won’t question me going into any of the rooms with a feather duster. If that album’s still about, and I don’t see why it shouldn’t be, I’ll find it and get the lock of hair to you.’

  ‘It’s Dark Moon tomorrow and Mother Heggy said she must have it by the evening.’

  ‘We know that, and don’t you fear, we’ll get it to you in time. And be happy to do it.’

  ‘Aye, anything that’ll help rid Stonewylde o’ Magus, Dark Angel take his wicked soul!’

  The two women didn’t let her down. Sylvie returned to her bedroom after breakfast the following morning to find a twist of paper on her pillow. She opened it and stared at the small silver-blond lock of hair inside. She felt a sharp twinge of emotion looking at the tiny piece of Magus’ childhood, so small and silky in her hand. It must’ve been difficult for him growing up without a mother, in the care of a harsh father who was interested in nothing but his own base pleasures. She pictured the little boy tearing around Stonewylde getting into mischief, fighting other boys and gaining a bad reputation, unloved by anyone except an old nursemaid and lashing out at the uncaring world, trying to control others with his strong will and angry fists. A little boy with nobody to nurture him and bring out his gentle side, and then sent away to a tough boarding school where he’d learnt to hide his darkness and present an amiable face to the world.

  She stroked the silver lock, curled like a tiny crescent moon, and wondered if she held the means to Magus’ downfall in her palm – maybe to his death. But she pushed the guilt and pity away and thought of Yul instead, still recovering from the terrible ordeal Magus had put him through. Whatever the reasons behind Magus’ cruel nature, the fact remained that Yul was in danger from him, and indeed so was anyone else who crossed him, including herself. Sylvie hurried to Mother Heggy’s cottage before her misgivings could get the better of her.

  ‘I don’t know if it’s any good,’ she said, breathless from climbing up the hill in the chilly November wind, ‘because it was cut when he was a child. I’m sorry, Mother Heggy, but it’s all I could get.’

  ‘’Twill do,’ wheezed the old crone, fingering the lock of hair with gnarled fingers. ‘Shouldn’t matter how old it is so long as ‘tis his own. Now I can get to work.’

  ‘Will … will the spell actually kill him?’

  ‘No, not on its own. ‘Tis not that powerful magic. I’m old and on the wane myself, not like I used to be. But ‘twill weaken him just as I weakened Alwyn. ‘Tis a symbol of intent, my spell-mongering. I do what I can to help the boy for he’s the grandson of my Raven and the one with the Earth Magic. The Goddess chose him, as I knew she would.’

  ‘But Mother Heggy, I don’t understand why you hated Magus so much when he was a child, before he’d done anything bad, and yet you don’t hate Yul. Magus was Raven’s own son, after all.’

  ‘’Tis true, but he were conceived from her suffering. She should never have borne children. If you could only have seen it … My poor little Raven! Just a tiny, delicate little thing she was and he a great heavy brute of a man. ‘Twas terrible how he forced her every single month, like his brother afore him, while she was moongazy and weak and couldn’t defend herself. And he brimming full o’ the power and energy he’d leeched from her through the stone, capering about like a wild torn cat and greedy with the moon-lust. No child of such a cruel union could ever be loved, not by me nor by her.’

  Sylvie was silent, thinking of what little she knew of her own sordid conception. Did her mother resent her for it? Now that she’d conceived a baby in loving circumstances, had she realised the difference and decided that she didn’t love Sylvie so much any more? It would explain why her mother had been so cold and uncaring recently. Sylvie swallowed hard, trying to push down the feelings of hurt and rejection. At least Yul loved her, even if nobody else did.

  The crone had shuffled across to a dilapidated cupboard in the corner where she peered closely at the bottles and jars jostling on the shelves.

  ‘But ‘tis different with Yul,’ Mother Heggy continued, decanting a green-tinged liquid into several smaller bottles she’d set out on the table, her hand remarkably steady for someone so old and blind. ‘True he has his father’s blood, but not his father’s evil – the power and the strength without the cruelty. And Maizie were willing. She loved Sol, and in his own way he loved her, so Yul’s conception was not cursed.’

  Sylvie nodded bleakly at this, and taking the small bottles Mother Heggy pressed on her for Yul, hid them in a little bag she carried. Then after quickly hugging the old woman goodbye, Sylvie left for the Great Barn where she must join all the other women for the Dark Moon gathering.

  *

  It was an ordeal walking into the Barn, and Sylvie immediately located Holly and her gang over on one side of the enormous space. Once again they’d commandeered the pile of squashy cushions and were lying about on their backs, laughing and talking loudly. Another group of older Hallfolk women sat at a distance from them, examining a great heap of rushes. Sylvie fumbled at the pegs as she hung up her jacket, not sure where to sit. All she wanted was to hide herself away from everyone and not attract any attention from Holly’s group. But it was difficult to avoid company here, so after some hesitation she decided to join the group of Hallfolk adults.

  Hazel looked up at her arrival and the smile faltered on Sylvie’s lips. The doctor was still cool with her, despite the daily visits in which Sylvie tried to get back to their previous friendliness. Magus had done a thorough job of turning Hazel against her.

  ‘Can I join you?’ she asked diffidently.

  Hazel nodded, pulling a handful of dried rushes from the pile. This month they were making mats for the Villagers’ cottages, one of the women explained to Sylvie. The rushes had been harvested in the autumn from the marshes where the river flowed into the sea, and these new circular mats would replace the worn-out ones on the stone kitchen floors. Sylvie sat down and watched how they selected the rushes and smoothed them out, before binding the ends with thin reed and beginning to plait. It was clearly more difficult than it looked, and timidly Sylvie began to pick out some of the long rustling leaves from the heap.

  ‘I had the results back from your tests just after you left my office this morning,’ said Hazel, plaiting efficiently as she talked. ‘Magus is due home very soon and he’ll be pleased t
o see them.’

  ‘Are they alright? Is there anything wrong with me?’

  ‘No, there isn’t, so Magus was right all along.’

  Sylvie’s heart sank. Although she hadn’t wanted there to be anything seriously wrong, this news would only strengthen Magus’ case that she was faking the lethargy and exhaustion she suffered after moondancing for him.

  ‘He’ll be pleased that I’ve put on weight, won’t he?’

  ‘I expect so, although you haven’t gained that much and your blood tests indicate there was some malnourishment. He won’t like that at all.’

  ‘But I am eating properly now, Hazel. I couldn’t help eating nothing when I felt so ill, and you know I was asleep for most of that week after the last full moon.’

  ‘Excessive sleeping is just another way of not facing up to life. Maybe it’s time you woke up, Sylvie,’ Hazel replied coldly.

  A couple of the women in the group were Sylvie’s teachers, and they looked across at her.

  ‘I hope you’ve finished that history coursework,’ said one of them sternly. ‘Magus has requested a full report on his return and I’ve got my notes ready for him. There are still gaps in what you’ve submitted so far.’

  ‘It’s almost done,’ said Sylvie. ‘I should be able to finish it off tonight.’

  ‘Too late for the report though.’

  ‘How’s the revision going?’ asked another. ‘You know the mock exams start soon. Have you caught up yet?’

  ‘Nearly,’ said Sylvie quietly. ‘I’ve been working hard.’

  ‘Pity you didn’t try that earlier. The mocks will prove just how little effort you’ve put in over recent months. I always say they’re a wake-up call.’

  ‘Just what she needs,’ said Hazel grimly. ‘What a good job Magus realised how far you’ve slipped, Sylvie, and just in time, too. You’re very lucky he’s taken such an interest in your welfare.’

  Sylvie swallowed her bitter retort, fighting down the tears of frustration and injustice that made her throat ache.

  ‘And I hear your maths is quite dreadful,’ continued the history teacher. ‘I think you’ve left that too late to turn around and William’s very annoyed you’ve let him down. Magus is always particularly proud of the high maths results achieved at Stonewylde. He’ll be furious with you.’

  ‘I’m doing my best,’ said Sylvie, bent over the plaiting to hide her burning face.

  ‘About time too. Oh for Goddess’ sake, girl! What are you doing to those rushes? What a dreadful mess! Unplait all that and start again. Or go and do something a little simpler that you can manage.’

  Sylvie gave up and stumbled miserably over to the group working on patchwork quilts, still avoiding the Hallfolk girls who were eyeing her malignantly across the stone floor. The group of Village women who were busy quilting welcomed her warmly and moved around their benches to make space for her. Maizie and Rosie were especially pleased that she’d joined them, Rosie even swapping places so she could sit next to her. Remembering Sylvie’s clumsy attempts the month before, she offered to teach her how to sew properly. Sylvie tried hard to copy the girl’s tiny neat stitches as she hemmed her hexagons, but glumly wondered if she’d ever find anything she was good at.

  The conversation was mundane but comforting, revolving around simple things such as whose house pig was next due for slaughter, and when to shut the bees up for winter. Sylvie started to relax a little, managing to block out the strident laughter coming from the gang on the cushions. Then the women in her group turned to the favourite topic of the moment – the return of Jackdaw. He and Magus had been away for over a week now, but it was known that Magus was due home any day. The servants always fed any Hallfolk news back to their relatives in the Village, and there was much speculation as to whether or not Jackdaw would return with the master.

  ‘I reckon he will. His things are still in the rooms over the stables where he were sleeping,’ said Tom’s daughter.

  ‘He better not show his face in the Village,’ said Edward’s wife grimly. ‘There’ll be such trouble if he does!’

  ‘Marigold said he comes into the kitchens like he owns the place, swaggering about and giving out orders. She said she’s tempted to add a little Death Cap or Destroying Angel to one o’ his pies.’

  ‘She wouldn’t do that!’

  ‘Well, the poor woman has good cause to.’

  ‘Aye, but then she’d be no better than those two old hags, Violet and Vetchling, and their nasty brews.’

  ‘I’d poison him myself if I could,’ muttered Rosie.

  ‘Rosie! Don’t say such things!’ said Maizie sharply. ‘He’ll get his justice for what he’s done to Yul without your hand in it.’

  Sylvie glanced up at them and saw the naked hatred on Rosie’s face.

  ‘What did he do to Yul?’ she asked. ‘You mean at the quarry last summer?’

  ‘No!’ said Rosie, almost choking as she tried to explain. ‘What he did at Samhain.’

  ‘When he took Yul into the Stone Circle?’

  ‘No, before that, when he had our Yul at his mercy in the byre. He burnt him.’

  The group of women and girls stopped their sewing and looked sympathetically across at Rosie’s flushed face. Maizie nodded, her eyes hard and bitter.

  ‘Round burns the size o’ your little fingernail,’ she said. ‘Jackdaw did it, Yul told us, when we noticed the marks all over his back, his arms and chest – he’s covered in burns. Jackdaw did it just for fun, Yul said. My poor, poor boy …’

  Tom’s daughter put an arm around her.

  ‘Don’t you fret, Maizie. That Jackdaw will be taken by the Angel, you’ll see. There’s justice in this world, and not only at Magus’ bidding.’

  ‘Aye, and I’d like to see him dead too.’

  The women fell silent, bending their heads over their sewing once more as the ripples of this shocking comment reverberated amongst them. Now it had been said openly, and by a woman who’d always loved him. The dark clouds were gathering and Sylvie shuddered, thinking of the pitiful lock of silver hair in the Wise Woman’s withered hands.

  Knowing that his mother and sister would be in the Barn for most of the day, Yul slipped out of the cottage to visit Mother Heggy. He wasn’t as strong as he’d thought and was pale and exhausted by the time he arrived. She fussed over him, sitting him down and making a reviving brew in the old stone mug.

  ‘You have but two weeks to get your strength back, boy,’ she told him. ‘He mustn’t take her to Mooncliffe this next Moon Fullness for he must be as weak as possible when the Solstice comes in December. So no moon magic this month.’

  ‘I know,’ said Yul, worriedly. ‘I need to organise it properly this time. Will I be well enough by then?’

  ‘Aye, I reckon so if you get up to the Circle, my lad. That’ll help, sunrise and sunset and this time o’ year, ‘tis easy enough with the days getting so short. Keep yourself warm, for you’ll feel the cold in your bones for a while yet.’

  Yul sat back, closing his eyes. He was so weary, and even when resting and sleeping he worried about Sylvie and the next full moon. He couldn’t let her down again.

  ‘I can’t take her to Hare Stone, can I? That’s the first place he’d look.’

  ‘No, you must get her far away, somewhere he won’t find her, but nowhere near Quarrycleave. That’s a place of death and the big stone there at the head of the quarry, ’tis the same as the stone at Mooncliffe. ‘Twill hold her moon magic just like the other one does and ’tis where he got the rock to make those stone eggs.’

  Yul felt angry just thinking about the eggs. He’d love to smash the chest open and steal them away – that’d give Magus a nasty shock when he came for a fresh one to boost his dwindling energy.

  Mother Heggy chuckled, and patted his arm.

  ‘Now you’re thinking a-right, my boy. It must be your plan, not mine, and you must use your wits. You may have the Earth Magic in you, but Magus is still bigger and stronger than you. So use y
our mind to outwit him, get things ready aforehand and think it clear. Use the man’s own greed against him.’

  ‘What about Jackdaw? He’s very strong and he’s as cruel as Magus. Much as I’d like to, I can’t take both of them on at once.’

  ‘Those who stand against you will fall, one by one.’

  ‘You mean Jackdaw?’

  She chuckled and shooed him out of the cottage.

  ‘Go home, sleep, eat and get strong. Make your plans and let me get on with my banishing spell.’

  After lunch in the Barn, Sylvie and Rosie along with many of the women went outside for a walk around the Green before resuming the afternoon’s work.

  ‘I’m pleased to speak alone,’ said Rosie. ‘Yul gave me a message for you this morning. He said to meet him under the tree afore you go back to the Hall tonight.’

  Sylvie smiled and nodded, wishing again that he could read and write.

  ‘I’ve got some medicine from Mother Heggy in my bag for Yul,’ she said. ‘I’ll give it to you to take back for him in case I forget when I see him. He has that effect on me.’

  Rosie grinned at this, but then looked serious.

  ‘Be careful with Mother Heggy, Sylvie. And whatever happens, don’t let on to Mother that you’ve seen her. Mother has a real wasp in her shawl about Old Heggy. She reckons all of this is her fault, ‘cause if Heggy hadn’t made that prophecy, Magus would’ve taken Yul as a Hallchild and wouldn’t have turned against Mother. She’d never have been handfasted to Father and Yul would’ve grown up happy and loved. Mother blames Old Heggy for everything that’s happened and she’s told Yul he must never visit her again.’

  Just then they heard a shriek of laughter and Sylvie groaned. Holly and her friends had come onto the Green and were heading their way.

  ‘Hey, Sylvie! Wait for us! We’d so like the pleasure of your company!’