Solstice at Stonewylde

by Kit Berry

  Sylvie had been summoned by a dour-faced Martin, who’d informed her coldly of Magus’ request. He’d barely spoken a word as they made their way along the gallery of the wing and into the main body of the Hall. Martin’s wintry grey eyes and air of disapproval had quashed her attempts at conversation and she struggled to keep up with his long strides, still feeling weak and shaky this morning. Sylvie still knew nothing of Yul, for as yet she’d seen nobody else this morning. Her mind raced with speculation as to why Magus should send for her so early, before everyone else was up and about for the New Year’s Day breakfast.

  Her tentative feelings of sympathy for him, standing so alone and pensive, were quickly dispelled when he turned and fixed her with an icy glare.

  ‘Come in and close the door behind you,’ he said tersely.

  They sat on the sofas and his gaze scoured her face.

  ‘I told you that we’d speak today, but this isn’t the conversation I’d envisaged. Due to … unforeseen events, I’m going away for a week or so. There’re a couple of things I need to say before I leave. I’ve obviously reached you before you heard the gossip that will doubtless rage at the breakfast table today, once it’s filtered up from the Village.’

  Her heart jumped at this, dreading his next words.

  ‘I wanted to tell you this myself, in case you get any ideas.’

  He paused and saw the fear in her eyes. His face was impassive as he continued.

  ‘Last night during the Samhain rituals up in the Stone Circle, I made an announcement. I let it be known to all that Yul is my son.’

  He waited as Sylvie absorbed this astonishing news. She stared at him in mute incredulity and he watched the succession of emotions flit over her face, before finally reaching acceptance and understanding.

  ‘You—’

  He waved her to silence.

  ‘I’m not discussing it other than to remind you that you’re forbidden to have any contact with that boy. This changes nothing.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No! He remains an ignorant, uncouth woodsman and nothing more, despite being sired by me. You’re out of his league and you’re to keep away from him. That is and remains my final word on the matter.’

  Sylvie’s eyes met his and she tried to mask her intentions, knowing only too well how perceptive he was.

  ‘Is he alright? There was something wrong yesterday. I could feel it.’

  ‘Yes, he is alright. And I heard of the part you played in this. Thanks to your meddling and scaremongering my plans for the future are now in jeopardy. You’ve a lot to answer for, and when I return I shall make sure you do. In the meantime, you’re to attend all your classes every day and ensure that you work extremely hard. I’ve left a note for your tutor. When I get back I expect a full report from him on the progress you’ve made since coming here in March, and a complete record of your attendance. You’re slothful and lacking in motivation. Your attitude is a mockery of all that we strive for at Stonewylde. This is your final year of secondary education and at this rate you’ll fail your exams miserably. It’s not acceptable. So whilst I’m away I expect you to make a concerted effort to cover the work you’ve missed. Now go back to your rooms and tell your mother that I wish to see her immediately. That’s all, Sylvie.’

  ‘But it’s not—’

  ‘I said that’s all. I shall take this up with you when I return.’

  His face was like stone. Sylvie stood up, smarting with the injustice. She knew exactly what she intended to do at the first opportunity.

  Miranda returned a little later with an equally grim expression.

  ‘Come on – breakfast time. Get a move on, Sylvie.’

  As they made their way again down the long gallery she turned on her daughter.

  ‘Things are going to change, Sylvie, starting from today. I’ve been far too soft with you. You’re to sit with me at meal times so I can make sure you’re eating properly. When you’ve finished breakfast this morning you’re to see your tutor and find out what you need to do to catch up with your work. Then go and see Hazel in the hospital wing. Magus had told her to do a complete health check. And your weight’s going to be monitored closely.’

  ‘What? But Mum, why—’

  ‘I don’t want to hear it, Sylvie. Your attitude is just not good enough. You’re going to spend every evening working in our rooms where I can keep an eye on you. You’ve so much ground to cover.’

  ‘But it’s not fair! I’ve only missed so much school because he made me ill! If you—’

  ‘Don’t be so ridiculous! It’s not Magus’ fault. You’ve been selfish and lazy, expecting us all to run around whilst you take to your bed and deliberately make yourself ill. I used to worry that you were anorexic, and now it’s clear that you refuse food to weaken yourself intentionally and then get us all fussing over you. Well it’s going to stop! I’ve the baby to think of now and I don’t have the time or inclination to pander to you any more. Magus is very annoyed and it’s up to me to sort you out.’

  ‘Mum, I can promise you I’ve never deliberately made myself ill! I want to be fit and healthy and eat normally, believe me! You know how bad I was in London and why we came here – how can you even think I want to be sick again? It’s Magus who’s—’

  ‘How dare you? We’ve discussed this before, Sylvie, and I’m appalled at you. It’s thanks to Magus that you’re alive today. He saved your life by bringing us here, and then healing you with his amazing gift. How you can blame him for your dreary hypochondria and self-harming behaviour is beyond belief. I’m ashamed of you, Sylvie!’

  Sylvie’s tutor was a rather grumpy middle-aged member of the Hallfolk, staying at Stonewylde for a couple of years whilst he completed his thesis. She’d never really taken to him but had found him to be generally amenable if not disturbed too much. Today he was curt and her heart sank. He glowered at her, furious to have his New Year’s Day holiday taken up like this. He’d hastily compiled a list of coursework and areas of study where she must catch up, and presented it to her with a bad-tempered flourish.

  ‘I’ve had to speak to all your subject teachers at extremely short notice when we thought we had the day off. Now that I’ve looked into it, I’m shocked at your attendance since the summer. You made a reasonable start in the spring but it very quickly deteriorated and you’re now behind in every subject. You’ve a considerable amount of work to catch up with and I want to see you every morning with the fruits of the previous day’s efforts. The last thing I need is Magus breathing down my neck. You’ve let us all down and there’s serious work to be done, young lady, if you’re going to even scrape through your exams.’

  Even Hazel was cool with her. She gave Sylvie a comprehensive medical and drew up a chart to record her weight. The doctor frowned as she sealed the blood and urine samples in a box to be sent off for analysis.

  ‘I’m really disappointed in you, Sylvie,’ she said. ‘I feel responsible for you being here, and I was so pleased that you’d made a full recovery from your illness in London. But this – this is something different. Magus says you’re deliberately malingering to get attention, and that there’s nothing physically wrong with you. I must say that apart from your obvious exhaustion after the full moon, and the fact that you lose so much weight by refusing food, I’m inclined to agree with him.’

  ‘But it’s his fault, Hazel! He makes me stand on the rock up at Mooncliffe and it drains my energy. He knows exactly what’s wrong with me!’

  ‘Oh come on!’ said Hazel sceptically. ‘Don’t start fantasising as well as faking illness. Magus told me months ago about your so-called “moongaziness” and how you insist on going up to Mooncliffe each month. He’s doing you a kindness, when he could simply lock you up in a room like your mother had to in the old days, to keep you safe. Don’t pretend this is his fault when all he’s doing is trying to help – that’s a load of nonsense and I won’t hear it!’

  Sylvie stared at her helplessly.

  ‘But H
azel …’

  ‘No, Sylvie. Magus warned me you’d try to blame someone else for your apparent malaise but I can’t believe you’re blaming him of all people. You’ve got to face the facts – you love the attention that illness brings and that’s all there is to it. It’s a common enough syndrome but not something I’d have expected from you.’

  ‘But I don’t pretend to be ill!’ cried Sylvie, her voice cracking. ‘It’s real!’

  Hazel shook her head and stood up, ignoring Sylvie’s tears and firmly ushering her from her office.

  ‘I’m sorry, Sylvie. I just don’t believe you so don’t waste your time crying – it won’t wash with me. Of course if these tests throw up anything, I’ll reconsider. That’s why Magus ordered them – to be absolutely sure we’re not misjudging you. But you need to do some hard thinking about your life at Stonewylde. You didn’t come here to mope about being pathetic, did you?’

  ‘No, Hazel,’ sobbed Sylvie, ‘I only want to be happy here. Please, please believe me, I’m not putting—’

  ‘Don’t try to play on my sympathy, Sylvie. If you put me in a position where I must choose sides between you and Magus, I’m afraid you’d be the loser. He’s been so kind to you and it’s about time you woke up and started acting a little more appropriately to your situation. I’ll see you tomorrow morning for your weigh-in.’

  The turn of events had thoroughly depressed Sylvie. She recognised Magus’ attempts to punish her for alerting Maizie to Yul’s presence in the Stone Circle at Samhain. She was anxious for news of him, although judging by Magus’ displeasure, Yul must be alright. A couple of evenings later, having endured dull days of endless school work and disapproval from all the adults responsible for her, Sylvie at last heard the good news she’d longed for. Harold caught her alone as she walked through the Tudor gallery. He emerged from the shadows of one of the doorways leading to guest rooms, and had clearly been waiting for her to pass by.

  ‘Sorry, miss, to startle you. I got a message from Rosie for you and I been trying to find a way to get you on your own.’

  ‘A message from Rosie? That’s brilliant! Thank you, Harold.’

  Sylvie was so relieved. She’d heard gossip and had gathered that Yul was now safely at home, but other than that there’d as yet been no details. She’d been wondering how to find out more and desperately wanted to see him, but didn’t know where they could meet. She smiled encouragingly at Harold, who shyly scuffed his shoe along the deep wooden wainscot of the gallery. He was the same age as Yul, but much less sure of himself.

  ‘Well? Can I have it then?’ She held out her hand, but Harold shook his head.

  ‘’Tis spoken, miss – Rosie can’t write. She said Yul’s on the mend, but he’s still very weak and their mother’s keeping him indoors. She said Yul wants you to go to their cottage and see him, any time you like, he said. And he misses you. And … and he loves you.’

  They both looked embarrassed at this but Sylvie grinned with bubbling happiness.

  ‘Please tell him, or Rosie if that’s easier, I’ll come down to the Village just as soon as I get the chance. Everyone’s on my back at the moment but I promise I’ll visit. Tell him I love him too. Sorry, Harold. This is awkward I know. I wish he could read, then I’d write him a note.’

  Harold looked up and nodded eagerly, his eyes alight.

  ‘I told Yul I’d teach him.’

  ‘You can read? How come?’

  ‘I’m teaching myself though I’m not very good yet.’

  ‘That’s a great idea! Let me know if I can help? And do try to persuade Yul to learn too – Magus would hate it! Did you know Magus is his father?’

  ‘Reckon the whole o’ Stonewylde knows that now, miss,’ chuckled Harold. ‘What a thing! Who’d have thought it, the way Magus treats him? Mind you, I always thought Yul were a bit special.’

  ‘So did I,’ said Sylvie with a smile.

  It took several days for the effects of the paralysing draught to wear off and for Yul’s body temperature to normalise after the hypothermia. But he was young and fit and began to recover from the near fatal experience that Magus had subjected him to. Maizie kept him indoors and made up a bed in the parlour for him, because it seemed that most of the Village wanted to bring little gifts and wish him a speedy recovery. She couldn’t have them all trooping up and down the rickety wooden stairs to the attic where he normally slept.

  In the Village there was a backlash of anger against Magus. The main cause, apart from his brutal and inexcusable treatment of Yul, was Jackdaw’s return from banishment. Most people had been deliberately kept unaware of his presence at Quarrycleave earlier in the year, and he hadn’t shown his face in the Village. But now the man had been brought back to Stonewylde without any explanation or apparent retribution, and many felt he hadn’t been punished at all. People muttered and held whispered conversations, but such was Magus’ power that nobody dared to criticise him openly. So solidarity was displayed in a show of support for Yul instead and he became the focal point for the Villagers. Maizie found her house crowded every evening with well-wishers.

  Sylvie managed to get away one morning during a rare free hour. She’d been working as hard as she could in the evenings and was beginning to make a little headway in catching up with the work she’d missed. She was still struggling to cope with everyone’s censure, but had persuaded Hazel that a daily walk was beneficial to her recovering good health. She slipped out of the Hall and went straight down to the Village to find Yul’s cottage, having first checked with Harold exactly where to go. She was nervous about sneaking into the Village like this. She’d been at Stonewylde long enough now to know what was acceptable and what wasn’t, and Hallfolk simply didn’t visit Villagers in their homes.

  Sylvie received puzzled looks from the Villagers out and about on their business. There was no festival and it wasn’t the Dark Moon – why would Hallfolk be coming down here? The Village was bustling with women wrapped in warm shawls, leather boots on their feet and wicker baskets on their arms, gossiping to each other as they went about their errands. A group standing outside the baker’s collecting their daily bread turned and stared at her, but she wished them a cheerful good morning and they smiled and greeted her in return. It was the same by the butcher’s, the Village pump, and the laundry. Her presence in their territory was startling, and every time she passed a group she felt all eyes upon her and heard their barely concealed squawks of surprise. But Sylvie found that her friendliness was returned each time so, reassured, she continued her walk past the pub and the Green, and along the track leading to Yul’s cottage.

  She began to feel anxious as she approached. She’d never seen Yul like this before as their friendship and developing relationship had been conducted in the fields, woods and hills of Stonewylde. She was also a little scared of meeting his mother face to face. But she found the cottage and walked up the path to the front door, her heart beating faster and her mouth dry.

  Maizie recognised the beautiful ethereal girl at once, shimmering on her doorstep like a star. She smiled warmly, dried her hands on her apron, and opened the door wide. Yul, lying on his made up bed in the corner, looked up as the door opened and his wan face flooded with joy at the sight of her. Sylvie’s shyness with his mother was forgotten as she flew across the room and knelt by his bedside, flinging her arms around him. She sensed Maizie’s discreet withdrawal into the kitchen and held him in a fierce embrace, tears welling up and scalding her cheeks. She clung to him, her face buried in his dark hair, his arms holding her as tightly as she held him. At that moment she understood how much she loved him; he was more precious to her than anything or anyone and she knew with absolute certainty that they truly belonged together.

  Sylvie cried as she held him, realising how close she’d come to losing him forever. He was so thin under the shirt; she could feel his ribs and shoulder blades. They finally pulled apart and when she looked into his deep, smoky eyes she saw that he still wasn’t right. His pupils w
ere a little dilated and his eyes seemed enormous in his pale and hollow face. His suffering was very apparent, even worse than the previous time in the summer, and something about him was different. It was as if he’d been to a place where no one should go; had seen things that nobody should see. Yul had looked death in the face and had only turned away at the very last minute.

  ‘I’ve been so scared for you, Yul,’ she sobbed, the tears streaming down her face. ‘I don’t ever want to be without you again. I love you so much.’

  He tenderly wiped away her tears with his sleeve and kissed her mouth, gently but leaving her in no doubt that he felt exactly the same. Then he held her tight again, pulled her into his chest, kissing her hair and cradling her in his arms.

  ‘We’re almost there now, Sylvie. We just have to get through the next few weeks until the Winter Solstice and then we’ll be free of him.’

  There was a cough from the kitchen and Maizie appeared with rosehip tea and honey cakes. She smiled again at Sylvie and sat down with them, Leveret following her in from the kitchen. The little girl stared at their beautiful silver-haired visitor in fascination. She stood in her home-spun pinafore dress, the thick woollen socks slipping down her tiny legs into her little boots, and shook the mop of dark curls out of her eyes exactly as her oldest brother did. Then she too smiled and Sylvie was enchanted by her dancing green eyes and white pointed teeth, like a row of perfect seed pearls. Maizie gathered the child up onto her lap and surveyed Sylvie with equal intensity.

  ‘Well, I can see right enough why my son’s been so moonstruck these past few months,’ she said, in the embarrassing way mothers have. ‘And I must say ‘tis good to be called on by Hallfolk for a friendly visit.’