Moondance of Stonewylde

by Kit Berry

  Yul felt free with Magus away. He worked harder than ever before, spending hours every evening pulling flax after a long day in the woods, and ate Maizie out of house and home. Rosie was working all hours at the dairy as milk production was at its peak. Much of the excess milk was made into great wheels of cheese which were part of the feasts at both Lammas and the Autumn Equinox festivals. Stonewylde cheese was particularly tasty, and the dairy produced several different types. Geoffrey and Gregory, although still at school, were busy rabbiting and helping with the flax harvest. Maizie was up to her elbows in preserves and wine-making, and trying to keep the two younger boys, Gefrin and Sweyn, under control. Without their father’s subduing presence they were running wild and constantly into mischief. Their favourite occupation was tormenting their little sister Leveret, and Maizie had to be extra vigilant and make sure her youngest child was safe from their spiteful pranks.

  Alwyn still languished in the hospital wing with no power of speech or movement. Unable to eat solid food, he’d lost much of his bulk and taken on a wasted look. Maizie went to see him weekly but it was a duty visit and she spent less and less time there. She always returned very quiet, feeling guilty for enjoying her life so much more with her husband out of the way.

  Yul visited the hospital wing just once, and spent only a little time with the man who’d abused him for as long as he could remember. He went one evening before starting work in the fields, and approached the Hall with trepidation despite knowing that Magus was away. He went round to the kitchen wing where he’d worked so hard during the Midsummer festival. He knew Marigold would welcome him, although she’d barely had time to speak to him when the visitors had been around.

  ‘Come and have a little bite to eat first, Yul my love,’ she said warmly, sitting him down at the over-sized scrubbed table where the servants ate.

  ‘I’ve already eaten,’ he protested, smiling at her insistent kindness. She cut him a generous slice of gooseberry pie and smothered it with cream.

  ‘Aye, well you’re not greedy like that father o’ yours, but a working lad like you needs to keep his strength up.’

  ‘It’s him I’ve come to see,’ he explained. ‘I won’t be a regular visitor but I wanted to see him just once.’

  She shook her head and folded her arms.

  ‘That bully being taken ill was the best thing for your poor family,’ she said. ‘I should think your mother’s glad to see the back of him, nasty brute.’

  Yul was surprised at this. Maizie had told him how Alwyn had been a constant visitor to these kitchens during his son’s time at the quarry, piling on the fat as he was overfed daily by Marigold’s generosity. She laughed at the look on his face.

  ‘Aye, I know what you’re thinking. We all knew what he’d done to you, Yul, and what he’d been doing to you for years. I saw him that week Magus had you locked up by the stables. Starving you was a terrible thing to do, and making you watch your father eat when you were so hungry … Magus should never’ve done it. ‘Twas downright cruelty. And that Alwyn! Nasty piece o’ work, greedy as a pig after weaning. I said to myself – if that man wants food, I’ll give him food. I’ll feed him till he bursts! He’d sit in my kitchen like a great porker at the trough. But I reckoned if I stuffed him up enough he’d get heavier and slower and maybe find it harder to beat you. Looks like it worked, eh? They don’t come much slower than Alwyn is now!’

  Yul laughed at this, pleased to know he had another ally. Marigold’s plump face dimpled with mirth, but then her smile faded.

  ‘There’s one thing I want to ask you, boy. I heard some gossip the other day, something one of the men up at the Gatehouse let slip in the pub. Now ‘tis all round the Village, though he’s denying he ever said it of course. Rabbit-scared he is! But you’ll know the answer, Yul, seeing as you was up there yourself. Is it true that Jackdaw’s back, working up at Quarrycleave?’

  She stared at him intently and Yul swallowed. Magus had been insistent that Yul was to tell no one about Jackdaw’s return to Stonewylde. He understood why Marigold was so concerned; Jackdaw had been married to her daughter. It was only his immediate banishment that had stopped Marigold organising a lynch-mob after he murdered his young wife. Marigold nodded slowly, her face darkening.

  ‘No need to answer, Yul. ‘Tis plain you been told to keep quiet and Goddess knows you’ve enough reason not to anger the master again. I understand, my boy.’ She brushed imaginary crumbs from the table briskly, her eyes welling with tears. ‘Well, if that Jackdaw ever steps foot in the Village he won’t last long. What is Magus thinking of, bringing him back here? I never thought I’d see this day! My poor girl Lily – what she suffered at the hands of that man don’t bear thinking about. Death was a release for her, I can tell you. And their little boy, Jay. Why didn’t Magus let me take care of him afterwards? I’ll never forgive him for that. My own daughter’s son, my grandson. I should’ve been given the care of him, poor little mite. But oh no, Magus sends him to his other grandmother, that sow Vetchling. No more fit to bring up a child than hatch an egg! I’ll never understand the reason for that as long as I live. I …’

  Yul was spared any more of her diatribe by the arrival of Harold. The young servant grinned at Yul and rolled his eyes. He was pleased to see Yul again as they’d always got on well and Yul had certainly made his life easier during the Midsummer Holiday.

  ‘Could Harold take me to the hospital wing?’ asked Yul, for the flax was still waiting to be pulled. ‘I’ll never find my way alone.’

  ‘Aye, you do that, young Harold. And come and see me again soon, Yul,’ said Marigold, taking his empty bowl and ruffling his hair. She smiled as he stood up, towering over her.

  ‘Sacred Mother, but you’ve grown lately! Send my blessings to Maizie and tell her next time she’s up visiting Alwyn to pop in to the kitchens for a chat. Always did like your mother.’

  Harold led Yul out of the kitchens and both boys burst out laughing.

  ‘Goddess, she can talk, that one!’ said Harold.

  ‘She’s kind though,’ said Yul.

  ‘Not always, believe me! She can flick a cloth so it catches you so hard on the arse it leaves a mark through your trousers! So how’s life treating you now?’

  ‘Life’s good. Busy, of course, but it’s that time of year. I haven’t seen you pulling the flax yet, Harold. Field work too hard for you now you’ve gone all soft up at the Hall?’

  The boy shook his head.

  ‘Come on, Yul, you know what it were like here over the holiday. I was worked to the bone. I think I deserve a break. Anyway, with all the Hallfolk away again I’ve been doing something … special. Something Magus wouldn’t like if he found out.’

  He glanced furtively around as they climbed a short flight of back stairs and went along a corridor. Yul looked at him in surprise. He’d always imagined the servants at the Hall to be, like Martin, intensely loyal and obedient.

  ‘What have you been doing?’ he asked, intrigued by Harold’s secrecy. The boy was bubbling with excitement.

  ‘It’s amazing! I can’t believe I’m doing it. I been dying to tell someone! You know all them computers they have here? Maybe you don’t. They’re these machines, like televisions but different. And there’s this thing called the Internet and I been doing it!’

  Yul looked unimpressed.

  ‘Why? Doing what exactly?’

  ‘Oh Yul, you don’t understand! I play games and visit websites and ’tis a whole different world! And I’m learning to read! I’ve got some books from their school and I been visiting this old dear in the Village who remembers how to read. I can type things now and read some o’ the stuff on the websites. I practise every day. I use a computer in one of the Hallfolk’s bedrooms while he’s away. I’m up there every night!’

  Yul eyed him suspiciously.

  ‘You’re not turning into Hallfolk, are you Harold?’

  ‘Don’t be daft – why would I want to be one of them? But ‘tis a new world, I ca
n tell you. I could show you the computers sometime. They’re the best thing in Stonewylde. You should learn to read too, Yul. I’ll teach you if you like!’

  They’d reached the entrance to the hospital wing and stopped by the door. Yul frowned, remembering Sylvie offering the same thing. Maybe they were right. He was amazed at Harold learning to read and write. It was unheard of at Stonewylde, except amongst the very oldest Villagers, and most of them had long forgotten the basics. At the Village School Yul had always known that Harold was bright and should have passed the tests and come to the Hall School. But he had no Hallfolk blood and Yul reckoned they’d failed him deliberately. He nodded.

  ‘I’ll think about it, Harold. Thanks for bringing me up here.’

  He opened the door to the hospital wing and was struck by the different smell. A nurse took him into a small room where something sat in a great wheelchair facing the window.

  ‘I’ll leave you alone with your father,’ she said gently, her blond head cocked in sympathy. ‘You won’t get anything out of him, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Will he get better?’ asked Yul, his voice trembling slightly at the thought of Alwyn sitting only a couple of metres away. The nurse shook her head, her face concerned.

  ‘You’ll have to speak to the doctor,’ she said. ‘But it seems very unlikely. They’ve done tests and sent him for a scan at a private hospital in the Outside World. There’s nothing much going on in his head and all we can do now is keep him comfortable. But he’s losing weight rapidly and his muscles are starting to atrophy. You could always ask the Goddess for a miracle.’

  I already have, thought Yul. And this is it.

  The nurse left the room and quietly shut the door. Yul went round the high wheelchair and gaped at the sight before him. So this now was the hated man. The one who’d frightened Yul all his life, making sure any happiness he ever felt was soon crushed out of him. The one who’d have killed him if he’d been allowed to continue his cruelty. How long did it take to whip a person to death? Yul pondered this as he stared at the shrunken, sallow effigy before him. He shuddered, recalling the awful violence in the byre. Maybe not the whip; it could’ve been blows that killed him. Alwyn had been just as fond of that form of punishment. Punches and kicks to the kidneys, the head and spleen; maybe that would’ve been his end.

  Yul found to his horror that his eyes had filled with hot tears. He blinked them away angrily, glaring at the pathetic huddle that gazed sightlessly out of the window. Alwyn smelt strange, his gingery hair had thinned to wisps and his skin hung loosely in empty folds. He was disgusting, almost less than human in his rapid decay. The vindictive speech of revenge, the glory and taunting that Yul had thought to enjoy as he finally faced his helpless tormentor all faded to nothing. He stood looking through a mist of tears at the man propped lifelessly in the chair, the evening sunlight on his sunken face.

  In his pocket Yul’s fingers closed round the pieces of leather he’d brought to toss contemptuously at his father – the remains of the snake-whip and the strap he’d so frenziedly destroyed. He thought of the words he’d dreamt of saying at this moment. But instead of revelling in triumph and gloating at his father’s fate, he cried. Standing in the small room, Yul bowed his head and sobbed silently. He cried not for the man next to him, who must have hated him so much, but for his lost and trampled childhood, now gone forever.

  Hazel gave Miranda a pregnancy test and confirmed that she was indeed expecting a child. The doctor remembered the Miranda of the Outside World as pale and worn-out, over-worked and worried sick about her daughter. The transformation was amazing. The woman before her glowed with good health, her skin and hair sleek, her green eyes shining. Her figure was now curvy and soft and her movements graceful and calm.

  Hazel felt a twinge of jealousy knowing that Miranda was carrying Magus’ child. Not that she begrudged Miranda this pregnancy; she was delighted for her. She just prayed to the Moon Goddess as Mother that she too would conceive, even though there were now two women at Stonewylde already expecting his babies. Hazel knew that Magus was normally very careful not to father children, but in the last few months he seemed to have reconsidered. Hazel was currently in favour with him and remained hopeful; maybe she too would be permitted to conceive if he was embarking on a new heir-producing venture.

  Miranda was ecstatic on learning she was definitely carrying Magus’ baby, seeing it as a way of binding him to her. Hadn’t he said he’d love and care for the child? It could only strengthen their relationship. She visited the store in the Village where the baby equipment was kept. Marvelling at the lovely wicker cribs and prams that the women shared and borrowed, she chose some pretty linen to make new covers for hers. Luckily Sylvie felt no resentment towards this new life that was claiming her mother’s attention. She was just pleased to be left alone.

  Sylvie had gradually recovered from her experience up at Mooncliffe and was nearly back to normal. She’d spent a couple of days in bed, totally exhausted, but then Magus had called before leaving for London and told her to get up and stop malingering. He’d been quite sharp about it, which had upset her. He glowed with energy and she’d wondered if he’d offer to heal her again, but that seemed to be the last thing on his mind. He’d sent Miranda downstairs to make coffee and shut the bedroom door. Sylvie had felt confused when he’d sat down on her bed smiling, having just reprimanded her for being there at all. Her first reaction had been to shrink from him. But there’d been something else pulling against this instinct; a compulsion that she didn’t understand.

  ‘Remember the last Moon Fullness, Sylvie?’ he’d asked softly, aware of Miranda moving about downstairs. He’d stroked the black bruises circling her wrists with a gentle finger. Sylvie had met his dark gaze and felt a strange sensation inside. She recalled the white disc of stone up on the cliffs. She knew that she must share her magic with Magus; it was why she’d been brought here. She nodded, her eyes luminous and intent as she returned his gaze. Despite himself, Magus had shivered at her strangeness.

  ‘I do,’ she said. ‘I stood on the rock at Mooncliffe.’

  ‘That’s right. You were a good girl. And what about the next Moon Fullness, Sylvie? What’ll you do then? Go running off with Yul?’

  She swallowed. Of course she wanted to be with Yul up at Hare Stone. She knew it in her heart. But she found herself speaking differently.

  ‘I want to dance at Mooncliffe for you,’ she whispered.

  Magus had smiled at this. She felt the full blast of his charm and vitality as he leant across the bed to kiss her forehead, his exotic scent filling her nostrils.

  ‘I’m very pleased with you, Sylvie. I shall come back specially and you can dance for me again. Don’t forget now. Remember what Clip told you.’

  She nodded, her throat aching with unshed tears. She knew this was wrong. She knew how ill she’d felt since the full moon. She wanted to be with Yul. And yet …

  ‘You must share your magic with me,’ he said, squeezing her hand. ‘But don’t talk about it to anyone, will you? It’s just between us.’

  He then went downstairs and made Miranda’s day by hugging her and telling her how beautiful she looked with his baby growing inside her. He kissed her deeply before leaving, teasing her for becoming so weak and submissive at his touch. He promised to spend time with her when he returned and reminded her of the imminent move up to the Hall. His final words, though, were about Sylvie.

  ‘I expect to come back and find her completely well again. I will not be pleased if I return and find she’s still moping about. I’m counting on you, Miranda, so don’t let me down. I want Sylvie strong and healthy.’

  A few days after Magus left, Sylvie and Yul came across each other in the woods where they both walked regularly in the hope of such a meeting. They were a little shy and both wished they could get back to their previous easiness with each other. Both also remembered their magical kiss on Sylvie’s birthday under the yew tree, which made them slightly nervous about being al
one together now. They climbed up the hill to the Hare Stone and Sylvie ran over and rested her cheek against its rough warmth. She breathed deeply.

  ‘I love this stone. It makes me feel safe.’

  Yul flung himself down on the short grass carpeted with white clover and sky-blue speedwell. He looked out towards the sea, hazy in the July sun. His deep grey eyes were startlingly clear in his tanned face as he narrowed them against the glare of the sun.

  ‘So tell me what happened at the last Moon Fullness, Sylvie. I was really worried about you.’

  ‘Oh yes, of course,’ she said brightly, sitting down on the grass next to him. He wore a thin, sleeveless jerkin; she noticed how brown he was and how well defined the muscles in his arms had become. ‘I went to Mooncliffe with Magus and I danced on the moon stone there.’

  ‘What? You danced?’

  ‘I went to Mooncliffe with Magus and I danced—’

  ‘Yes, I heard you. But why there, Sylvie? Did he force you to go with him? What happened?’

  She frowned, feeling confused.

  ‘Yes, he was waiting for me, I think. I don’t … I don’t remember that bit too well. He took me up to Mooncliffe and … I’m not sure. I danced on the cliff-top for a while I think, and then I went on the white disc of rock.’

  ‘I thought he must’ve been lying in wait for you. The bastard! I waited for ages in the woods, and then I wasted time looking all over the place trying to find you. I should’ve realised straight away he’d taken you up there. Was it awful for you?’

  ‘Yes, it – no, it was fine. I don’t know. I’m going there next month. I love dancing at Mooncliffe.’

  ‘What? I thought you liked coming here with me and dancing with the hares.’

  She wrinkled up her face, looking puzzled.

  ‘Yes, I want to be with you, Yul. But … I love dancing at Mooncliffe for Magus.’

  He stared at her in consternation. She didn’t sound like herself at all.