by Jacky Gray
Ganieda insisted she go home just before sunset every night, but Amiera was always back again the next morning, bright and early. The summer solstice passed her by completely. She sat happily by his side while most of the healers took the opportunity to join in the evening’s celebrations. On Tiwsday, a sense of anticipation enthused the healing centre. The idea of seven people in seven villages and no new cases of the plague for a few days persuaded most people it was over.
Reagan was struggling to make himself heard. He was lying in bed, but strong arms were holding him down, preventing him from doing what needed to be done. It seemed he was the only one who knew; everyone else was too busy to notice. Thearl was happily creating the most fabulous paintings, each one slightly different. The one he was working on showed the pentagonal Swindon stone with Woodhenge at one corner and four proud white horses at the other corners. Darma was happily selling his paintings to the people who were flocking to stay in Draedan’s new inn. The room was covered in paintings showing the pentagon, or triangle of horses, or all the horses connected by a network of earth spirit lines, or just Thearl’s proud Hengst, standing atop Somerford motte.
Kalen had given up his prestigious job at the council and was helping Reeve to create decorative iron work, but again they’d merely used the pentagon and triangle; they weren’t interested in moving on. Kalen smiled at Reagan, patting his arm. ‘Don’t worry, people are happy to stop at five, it’s such a good number. Look at your fingers and toes, it’s not as if you have seven of them is it?’
Ganieda passed by muttering. ‘I can see it now, the next plague will be eleven people from eleven towns, we don’t have enough beds.’
He tried to tell them. ‘But if you create a new horse it will complete the heptagon. All you need to do is follow the spirit line to the ridge, it’s a perfect place for a horse.’
‘Oh Reagan, I like the idea of being perfect.’ He strained round to see the owner of the voice, but she managed to stay just out of sight. It was familiar and somehow he knew she was beautiful.
He turned to see Malduc disappearing round a corner and shouted his message. The council leader just kept on going, rushing to some important meeting as though he hadn’t heard him, muttering about the tragic deaths of the chosen children and that he wasn’t about to become one of them.
Whoever was holding him back was distracted by the sun rising up over the heel stone at Stonehenge, and Reagan took the opportunity to slide away unnoticed. He was on Blaise’s back, and he felt the arms of someone round his waist and heard a girlish giggle. It was not Amiera, even though he could hear her voice singing sweetly in the background. This was a wild girl, full of mischievous energy and she whispered in his ear to go faster and faster. They were galloping along from Aveburgh to Windmill Hill and Blaise’s hooves were ripping up the crops in the field as they passed and trampling a line through the centre of all the crop patterns.
Miraculously, they didn’t destroy them, just added a line of symmetry to the patterns and all the other crops settled back into position as though they’d never been disturbed. As they passed through each pattern, the voice in his ear spoke the numbers and named the shapes. Blaise rose above the last figure so he could see it differed, a delicate star with a circle adorning each tip. The sweet voice whispered, ‘seventeen, heptadecagram.’
Seconds later, he was on the ridge, in the clearing between Clevancy and Highway. Below him was a white shape, and Blaise rose into the air once more, turning in a wide circle so he could see the horse in all its glory. She landed and trotted quite sedately as they approached the ridge. ‘Blaise. It’s you. You look wonderful.’
Reagan lay back in the bed, no longer struggling against the arms which held him down. Why would he struggle? His job as a chosen child had ended, he’d sited and created not one but two horses and informed the necessary people about the problems with Devizes and possibly with Marlburgh. He could go to sleep now and spend the rest of his time with Blaise and Willow and the Earth spirit. There would be no more need to investigate problems, measure and draw the elusive shapes and crop patterns. Nobody would ask him to perform complex calculations or follow the earth spirits, in fact, he could become one. People would follow him, marvelling at his tremors as he connected his two horses. It would mean spending eternity with the capricious, wilful spirit, but she could be so sweet and funny he wouldn’t mind at all. Smiling, he sank back into her arms, letting her soothe away the pain which wracked his body from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.
The singing stopped and it started raining. Hot, salty drops which stung his skin. Amiera’s face appeared, but it wasn’t the smiling girl he loved. Her hair and face were wet. ‘Don’t stand in the rain, you’ll catch your death.’
‘It’s not raining, Reagan. You mustn’t give in, we need you. Please come back to us.’
‘I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to stay here forever. Why don’t you come, too?’ Then he realised it wasn’t raining, she was crying. He reached out to her, but she didn’t see him. He tried to tell her not to cry, that everything would be alright, but the spirits were pulling him back down, binding him with strips of silken thread which made his limbs heavy and weak.
Someone shook him and Kalen’s voice told him off. ‘Reagan, you must fight it. The spirits are trying to take you, but your work isn’t done yet. I’ve found the Rockley horse but we need to know where to put the seventh horse and which one to choose. Only you can do that, but you must wake up now.’
Epilogue
‘You mean Malduc knew about the Rockley horse all along? But that information would have made such a difference!’ Amiera was horrified. ‘Reagan probably wouldn’t have had to suffer the death-sleep.’
‘But he’s alright and the work has started on the new horse between Clevancy and Highway, so everything’s fine.’ Kalen tried to smooth it over.
Reagan chipped in with a quip, trying to make her smile. ‘You mean all’s well that ends well.’
‘That’s no reason to forget about it or act as though it never happened.’ She would not be put off so easily.
‘No, it’s the name of a play by this William Shakespeare fellow. I’ve been reading all his plays while I’ve been forced to lie in bed.’
‘But you nearly died. What on earth could have made Malduc keep something like that a secret?’
Kalen looked hopeful. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any point in saying he had a good reason and you’d be better off not knowing?’
‘None at all. I will find out, even if I have to go and ask him myself.’ No way would Amiera let it go.
‘I can tell you, but under one condition.’
‘That I never breathe a word about it to anyone else, not even discuss it with you or Reagan?’
‘Are you sure you can’t mind-link? That is exactly what I was going to say, word for word.’
‘Can you stop beating about the bush and get on with it please?’ Amiera’s patience had reached its limit.
‘Alright. Apparently, back in 1948, Malduc began to have dreams about white horses, and so did another boy. The other boy was drawn toward the site you identified at Devizes but, because the Snobs’ horse was already there, the council voted in favour of Malduc’s horse.’
‘Exactly like the girl at Somerford.’ Reagan muttered under his breath as he remembered what Darma had said.
Kalen continued. ‘When it came to creating the horse, there were several accidents, just like when they cut Somerford. So Malduc always felt as though he’d got the site wrong.’
‘But you have checked it out?’ Reagan asked.
‘Absolutely. The horse itself is barely visible; even more overgrown than the Snobs’ horse. I don’t think it’s ever been scoured. The hill is quite flat, but not as bad as Seagry. There are spirit lines from Uffington and Ham Hill which pass through that point and we think there’s one from Barburgh castle to Pewsey, although I couldn’t feel it.’
‘You mean you dowsed the other
two?’
‘Yes. They were quite strong.’
‘So that’s it? He didn’t say anything because he thought he might have got it wrong?’ Amiera was incredulous.
‘Not exactly.’ Kalen hesitated, he obviously wasn’t sure about telling the rest of it.
‘Somebody died, didn’t they?’ Amiera’s question came a fraction of a second before Reagan’s statement.
‘He feels guilty because the other boy didn’t survive. Just like the girl at Somerford.’
‘What girl at Somerford?’ Kalen and Amiera were in perfect unison. Reagan told the tale of the chosen child whose horse was never cut.
Kalen nodded his head wisely. ‘Now you can appreciate why he did not mention the Rockley horse. In fact, he had no choice. He became so disturbed by the boy’s death, a memory charm was used so he’d genuinely forgotten the whole episode. Your illness weakened the enchantment, and I put him into a trance to get the full memory from him.’
‘Oh dear. Now I suppose it will haunt him again.’
‘Not at all. When I’d got what I needed to help him, we put it back in a box under lock and key in his mind.’ He grinned. ‘We even hung a sign on it saying “Do not open without Kalen’s permission.”’
‘What’s this I hear about you being asleep for seven days and seven nights? Now that’s what I call real laziness.’
‘Archer. How are you?’
‘I’m good. But seriously, how are you? The senior guild is alive with tales of your deeds. Rhianna’s so thrilled you chose her design for the new horse, she’s commissioned Doug to write a song about you. The working title is Reagan, Master of the Hengst.’
Reagan sat up with such a jolt he had to lay straight back down. ‘You are jesting. Tell me it’s a jest.’
‘No joke. You are the latest Worthy. It’s about time someone else had a song to take the pressure off me. It’s tough at first, but you’ll get used to it.’
‘But what on earth can they find to write about? I followed a spirit line and chose a horse. Not exactly the stuff of legends.’
‘You mean you didn’t build your own barrel from scratch and ride it over the waterfall to follow the spirit line?’
‘Of course I didn’t. What waterfall?’
‘Oh dear. He may have to lose the third verse then. But you did decode the crop patterns and save the land from the worst plague since the black death. And there will be not one but two white horses which bear your mark.’
‘Reagan, Champion of Hengst.’
‘I like that even better, Kalen. Mind if I suggest it to Doug?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Don’t I get any say in this?’
‘Afraid not, you’ve done your bit, now you have to suffer the consequences like I did.’ Archer grinned, hoping Reagan would learn to enjoy the acclaim.
Useful Mathematical terms
Glossary
Beltane
The festival of Mayday linked to graduation
Breeches
Trousers
Brideog
A corn dolly of Brighid/Bridget, a Celtic goddess
Dais
Raised platform or stage
Garlanding
A competition to create the most unusual seasonal garland to represent Beltane
Handfasting
Wedding
Imbolc
Candle festival in early February linked to initiation and pledges for the year (Valentine)
Jest
Joke
Junior
A child in the first stage of training, i.e. from 7–16
Lehren
Equivalent to school, with the emphasis on learning rather than teaching
Magi
A Hengist clan: healers, scholars and officials
Outil
The largest clan of Hengist: craftsmen, artisans and farmers
Ostara
Festival of trees in late March at the Vernal equinox (Easter)
Renegate
The smallest clan of Hengist: rebels who broke away from the rest, living as gypsies
Senior
From age 17, the education is specific to a trade or occupation, according to talents
Tabard
A sleeveless jacket or light summer coat
Tunic
Could be a thin linen shirt or woollen jumper
Warrior
A Hengist clan: soldiers, constables and gamekeepers
Worthies
Nine juniors choose a Worthy (a historical hero) and dress and act like them during Beltane.
Yule
Midwinter solstice celebration in late December, the shortest night (Christmas)
White Horse
Our date
Hengist date
Uffington
1500BC
1000BC
Westbury
1690-1710
878
Ham Hill (1)
fictitious
1725
Westbury (2)
1778
1740
Seagry
fictitious
1755
Cherhill
1775
1770
Pewsey
1785
1785
Marlborough
1804
1800
Milk Hill
1812
1812
Hackpen
1838?
1830
Devizes
1845
1845
Broad Town
1863
1860
Ham Hill (2)
before1877
1875
Tan Hill
1894?
1890
Pewsey (2)
1937
1935
Rockley
1948
1948
Somerford
fictitious
this year
Clevancy
fictitious
this year
Devizes (2)
1999
Dates of the White Horses
If this has sparked an interest, you can see pictures
and the latest information on the horses at www.wiltshirewhitehorses.org.uk
Map of the Hengist Area (Wessex)
The positions of the White Horses/Monuments are
connected together, dotted lines are new horses.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to everyone who has helped me to believe in myself – without you, Reagan would never have lived outside of my imagination and my computer’s hard drive.
Special thanks to the following – you know the part you played and words cannot express my gratitude: Jo, Debby, Norman, Lynne, Kerry, Maria, Marianna, Sarah, Barry and Stella. Even when you think it’s done, there’s room for improvement – grateful thanks for your excellent wisdom and advice to Tim, Adina, Eli, Veronica and Paula. And a huge thanks to the lovely World Wise Writers for their help in sprucing up this latest version. Thank you Ace, Hannah, Sho and JD.
Thank you to all those people I have plagued for their opinions on the ideas, words, artwork and everything else needed to bring this massive undertaking to fruition.
An extra special mention to Rebecca Sterling for producing the truly amazing cover artwork. I love your work.
A big thank you to Kerry-lyn Tosh, Maria Wheatley, Hamish Miller, Morris Marples and the creators of and contributors to http://www.wiltshirewhitehorses.org.uk/ for their technical expertise – any remaining mistakes are of my own making.
The next adventure in this series is Slater. If you would like a taster, read on:
Slater continued round the outside of the sarsen circle until he could see the altar stone through the gaps. As Reagan suggested, a direct alignment connected the outer circle and inner circle on both sides. The rays of the sun came through the gap and the altar stone was perfectly aligned to catch them. Dodging past several groups of people, Sla
ter reached the stone in time to see the last few moments of this magical effect. Tiny flecks of shiny crystals were scattered throughout the stone and they reflected the rays in a rainbow of colours which shimmered above the stone in a spectacular, secret dance.
As the rays retreated, turning it back into to a normal bluestone, Slater felt the pull of a strong spirit line. Tuning into it as Reagan had shown him, he closed his eyes and allowed his body to feel the flow. There were two lines, one under each foot. As he sensed them he realised they were following exactly the same curve from one end of the stone to the other. After a little more investigation, he detected several similar circular lines on the other side of the altar stone, but these had much wider paths. Unfortunately a group of strangers picked that moment to settle down next to the stone so he couldn’t follow them anymore. Closing his eyes, he visualised several circles around the altar stone and he was sure they were something to do with its healing properties. He couldn’t wait to discuss it with his friend and hoped he’d get a chance later on to dowse it properly.
Consulting Reagan’s list of cryptic clues, next to “altar stone” he wrote “dancing rainbow lights” and “water circles.” The next thing was “moonstones” and he followed the clues to align himself on the central axis. With the mass of bodies it was tricky to position himself so he could he could see two of the moonstones through the gaps in the stones. Looking down, he noticed a small patch where no grass grew. Turning half a circle and staying within the bare patch, he saw the smallest of gaps between the pillars of the fourth gateway through which he glimpsed the southern moonstone on its barrow. As he twisted and bent, trying to find a gap through which he could see the last moonstone, a group of tall dark strangers surrounded him. They were wearing dark robes with hoods covering their faces.
