Moondance of Stonewylde (30 page)

I
t was the last week of August and the day of the full moon. The summer had been long and hot and most of the crops were now harvested. The fields were a patchwork of deep brown, ochre and sienna, stubbly and bare, many already ploughed. The flax had been retted and some of it bleached; now the Village women spent every available moment spinning the long fibres ready for weaving. The cobnuts ripened in thick clusters on the hazel trees, green and frilly, whilst the great tufted heads of sweetcorn, zipped in their green jackets, were almost ready for harvest. In the orchards the trees were laden with apples, their boughs heavy, and the early types of apple were already being picked. The swallows were still around but beginning to gather in the skies and there was a sense of sadness, of the summer nearly gone but no sign yet of beautiful autumn to cheer the heart.

Yul left the Stone Circle after his sunrise ritual. He was tanned a deep golden brown, his clear grey eyes striking against his skin. He’d managed to keep himself out of trouble since his big fight with Buzz, who was skulking around the Hall avoiding people. Magus had let it be known that he was deciding his son’s punishment whilst he recovered, but people wondered when it would be announced. The Villagers were still very angry that one of their girls had been attacked by a Hallfolk man; Magus was aware of this anger and knew he must act soon.

Yul ran down the Long Walk as fast as he could. Legs pumping, he enjoyed the animal pleasure of the exercise and the green
coolness under the ancient trees that lined the processional walk. He sprang and cavorted like a young stag, laughing out loud and shouting like a wild thing. Then he saw a figure at the other end standing in the shade, silhouetted against the brightness and his heart leapt. He ran full pelt towards her and she smiled as he approached, loving his darkness and wildness.

‘I thought I might find you at your stones,’ she said. ‘Can you come with me to mine now?’

They cut through the woods and made their way up the hill to Hare Stone. As they got closer Sylvie felt the familiar tranquillity enfolding her. She touched the stone with her cheek before lying on the grass next to it. The moon magic of the place soothed and nourished her and she closed her eyes. Yul sat next to her on the grass gazing down at her, his heart melting. She was so very beautiful, so ethereal and perfect. The dark shadows under her eyes were now gone and she’d lost the haunted, suffering look that had veiled her beauty after her ordeal at Mooncliffe. Her fair skin was tanned to a pale gold, her silvery hair exquisite. He loved the arch of her lips, the tiny line each side of her mouth that crinkled when she smiled. He noted the delicate veins at her temples and the way her white-blond hair started to grow there like down, feathering back into proper hair. He saw the pulse in her throat beating like a tiny creature. Her small hands, their fingernails bitten, were spread on the grass, her thumbs idly stroking the ground. He bent over without thinking and kissed her mouth; soft kisses like angel wings.

Her eyes flew open, pale-grey glass within her dark-ringed irises, and then they dreamily fluttered shut again as his kisses became more insistent. She kissed him back, loving the feel of his mouth on hers, the emotion she sensed just under the surface. His lips were soft but demanding, his tongue firm but gentle. She felt herself spiralling away into heaven and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down closer, her fingers twined in his curls.

Their kiss was shattered by a very loud
CAW
! Sylvie looked up and saw the crow fidgeting on the stone above them. Yul’s eyes
were smoky with passion, his dark lashes drooping.

‘Damn crow!’ he muttered. ‘Perfect timing.’

But then they heard a voice calling from down the hill.

‘Sylvie! Sylvie! Are you up there?’

‘Oh no, it’s my mum!’ cried Sylvie. ‘What on earth’s she doing here? What shall we do?’

‘It’s alright,’ said Yul softly. ‘I’ll just go over the brow of the hill. Don’t worry, she won’t see me if I keep low. Sylvie, I … Sylvie … You were …’

He gazed down at her and bent his head again. She laughed and pushed him off.

‘Go! There’ll be so much trouble if we’re found here together. Go!’

‘And the Moon Fullness tonight? Will I see you here?’

‘I love to dance on the great moon stone at Mooncliffe,’ she told him, the dancing light in her eyes suddenly extinguished. ‘I must do it for Magus.’

‘No, Sylvie!’ he groaned, scrambling away over the hilltop.

Sylvie sat up, hastily smoothing her hair, hoping her face wouldn’t give her away. Now she was upright she could see her mother climbing the hill, red hair gleaming like conkers in the sun.

‘I’m up here, Mum!’ she called, waving. Miranda waved back and continued to make her way around the boulders littering the hillside. Sylvie hoped that Yul was safely out of sight. Her mother finally reached the great stone.

‘Phew! I’m really out of breath!’ she panted. ‘That’s a steep climb.’

Sylvie thought of how she and Yul liked to run up the hill together and smiled. Her mother sat down on the warm grass beside her, exactly where Yul had been stretched out only a few minutes earlier.

‘This is a lovely surprise, Mum,’ said Sylvie brightly, trying not to think of the kiss she’d interrupted.

‘Well, I haven’t been out for a walk for a while. I need to keep fit for the baby’s sake. What a lovely spot!’

‘How did you find me?’

‘You’ve talked so much about Hare Stone, so I thought you might be here. I asked one of the Villagers and they directed me. Didn’t seem to know it was called Hare Stone, though – just the stone on the hill, they said.’

Hare Stone must be Yul’s own special name for the place. Thinking of the moonlight and hares made her feel strange, and she remembered what he’d said. It was the Moon Fullness tonight. She thought of how wonderful it would be, dancing up here in the warm August moonlight with Yul watching over her. But then the black fog rolled in over her mind, blanking it out. She saw an image of moonlight over water, snaking a path towards her. She saw a great disc of rock where she must stand and send her magic deep within, so the snake could coil in contentment. There was a man, two men, laughing with pleasure and delight. And the pain, the weariness, the sadness. No hares or moon angel wings or singing heavenly songs for the Triple Goddess. She hung her head in sorrow.

‘What’s the matter, darling?’

‘It’s just tonight, Mum. I must go to Mooncliffe and dance.’

‘Oh yes,’ agreed Miranda. ‘I’ve been so worried about that. But Magus says it’s what you must do, and he does know best. Did you know that his mother was affected by the full moon too? Apparently some people at Stonewylde are. He’ll take care of you. I mustn’t interfere.’

She lay back in the grass and closed her eyes, her thoughts a little jumbled. She sighed; it was so peaceful up here.

‘I love you, Mum,’ said Sylvie suddenly, squeezing her mother’s hand.

Miranda turned her head on the grass and looked into her daughter’s clear grey eyes, so beautiful and strange.

‘I love you too, Sylvie, my special girl.’

‘Mother Heggy, you’ve got to help me!’ Yul stood in the doorway of the hovel and the smell billowed out to hit him. She glared at him from her rocking chair.

‘Brought back my bottles and corks, have you?’ she squawked. ‘No! And you didn’t come to see me, did you? But now ‘tis the Moon Fullness and you realise you have none o’ the knowledge yourself, oh aye,
now
you come here with your tail between your legs!’

She glared at him, although he doubted she could actually see him at all.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, worried that she’d turn him away. ‘I’ve been so busy with the harvesting and helping at home. I thought you’d be able to undo the spell before this Moon Fullness.’

‘Did you now? Well come in and shut the door!’ she snapped irritably.

He sat down opposite her, trying not to recoil from her stale odour. How could Sylvie not be repulsed by her? She cackled, and too late he remembered her uncanny knack of reading his mind.

‘Can you sit still awhile so I can read you? Or must I make you as stone?’

He remembered the potion she’d given him on his first visit and quickly shook his head.

‘No, I promise I’ll sit still.’

She cackled again and pushed him back in the seat with a bony claw. She hunched forward in her chair and regarded him intently. He felt the tug of her milky eyes, and then of something deeper, something powerful.

‘Quiet now,’ she whispered hoarsely. ‘Quiet and still. Let your mind float free. Let the white swan glide in the misty waters.’

He felt his heartbeat slow down, his mind relax and slip away to the place between waking and sleeping where all is hazy and everything is possible. His breathing became deeper; his eyelids drooped shut. She took his hands in hers …

His head was filled with a sudden vision of crimson and black swirling in a vortex, a silver light glistening, and then feathers everywhere, black feathers falling and falling, a tiny, white baby and a crow on the cradle. Mother Heggy snatched her hands away, muttering sharply. His eyes flashed open and he stared at
her, jolted back into reality. He saw how the shadows had moved across the room and knew she’d been reading him for quite some time.

‘Well, well, so much has happened. Poor Mother Heggy. Not many visitors nowadays, nobody to tell me what is abroad. But now I’ve seen all that has passed. I understand the spell they put on the bright one.’

‘Can you break it, Mother Heggy?’ he asked urgently. ‘Tonight – she’ll go up there tonight if you don’t do something.’

She nodded, sucking her gums and rocking.

‘Aye, I know that, boy. But I cannot break the spell for tonight. You must go to Mooncliffe and see what is happening with that evil man. ‘Twill be hard for you. You must watch your girl suffering and you must do nothing. Don’t try to stop it tonight for the time is not yet right and you would fail. You must watch but you must be hidden. When you came at Lammas I was afeared. The dark glass showed me what he did to her. I feared for her life, like my precious Raven before her. But now I see more clearly. There’s danger, real danger, but you’re far stronger than I’d thought and I have faith in you, my young Holly King. The Goddess has chosen wisely. The magic will be safe with you.’

Magus and Clip strode into the rooms at the end of the Tudor wing as the sun was dropping in the sky. The nights were beginning to draw in, dusk coming earlier as summer came to an end, although tonight it was very warm indeed.

‘We’ve come for Sylvie,’ said Magus briskly, walking straight through the sitting room and towards the bedroom.

‘Of course,’ said Miranda. ‘She’s rested and ready, as you said.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ said Magus.

Clip gave Miranda a little salute, which she ignored. Sylvie was sitting on her bed, her eyes vacant. Tears rolled down her cheeks but she was silent. She wore the moongazy dress and her hair floated around her bare arms and shoulders in a silver cloud. As the men walked in she raised her eyes to them. The tears spilled over and caught on her dark lashes.

‘She’s so very lovely,’ said Clip softly.

‘Never mind about that,’ said Magus. He took her hands from her lap and tugged her upright. ‘Come, my moongazy girl. It’s late and you’ve work to do tonight.’

Yul was hidden behind the bracken alongside the path. Gnats danced on the cliff top and swallows swooped, feasting while they could before their long journey ahead. The stone disc was rosy in the setting sun’s rays, the brightness also reflected on the opposite horizon where the moon would rise, tinting the whole sky. It was a bloody sunset, the sky a burnished gold, and the heat pressed down, stifling and close. The still air was oppressive and Yul was sweating. He was scared; not of Magus, but of being unable to control himself. Mother Heggy had stressed how important it was not to act yet, but could he bear to watch Sylvie suffer at Magus’ hands?

He heard them coming before he saw them.

‘Goddess, we’re late.’ It was Magus’ deep voice. ‘Look, the sun’s set already. Come on, Clip, hurry up!’

Clip led the way with Magus behind him, carrying Sylvie. Yul’s heart wrenched at the sight of her lying in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder and her hair hanging down. Magus reached the top and put her down quickly. She stumbled as she tried to find her feet and then stood like an automaton. Yul remembered how she usually behaved at this time, just before moon rise; full of energy and fidgety, jittery with anticipation.

‘Remember what I said,’ said Clip, talking as if Sylvie couldn’t hear them. ‘No eggs and not too long on the stone. No more than half an hour.’

‘Oh come on, she can do a few eggs. Just to replace the ones I’ve used.’

‘Absolutely not, Sol – we agreed! She’s just not strong enough this month. You were too greedy last time and she can’t take it again so soon.’

‘You’re being ridiculous, Clip. She’s fine now. Look at her – of course she can take it.’

‘She’s been ill for most of the month! I’m warning you, Sol, you’ll damage her if you overdo it and then there’ll be no moon magic at all.’

‘Alright, alright. We’ll compromise. Just one hour with six eggs and then we’ll let her off the rock. But you must promise me she’ll do the full load next month, whatever happens. I’ve got some people interested in the eggs. Is that a deal?’