Magus of Stonewylde Book One

by Kit Berry

  ‘You were showing off.’

  ‘Yes, sir. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Maybe I need to speak to your father.’

  The boy’s head shot up and Magus saw the fear in his deep grey eyes, quickly masked. He gave a small smile.

  ‘Would your father approve of you showing off? If I were to mention it to him?’

  ‘No sir. It won’t happen again, sir.’

  ‘It certainly won’t. The Stone Circle is the sacred heart of Stonewylde, not a place where dirty young boys swagger around trying to impress girls. Watch your step carefully, Yul. I’m keeping a close eye on you.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Magus twitched himself upright and strode off across the Circle. Yul scowled and left quickly. He hurried down the Long Walk where Villagers were placing lanterns among the avenue of stones to light the way for the ceremony. He must keep out of Magus’ way for the foreseeable future, and cursed himself for that betraying flash of fear. He’d seen Magus’ flicker of a smile and understood exactly what it meant.

  The silver Rolls Royce slowed as they approached the boundary walls. Very old and as high as three men, the walls were topped with broken glass and razor wire. The great wrought-iron gates opened slowly at a touch of Magus’ remote control. The Gatehouse, although old like the walls, was manned by two burly men with radios, and there were security cameras trained on the entrance. Seeing Miranda’s startled face in the seat next to him, Magus smiled and explained that the security was to keep out nosy tourists.

  ‘The only way a community such as ours has survived is by shutting out the Outside World. Nobody enters Stonewylde unless they belong here.’

  Miranda nodded, smiling slightly at the guards as the great car purred slowly through the entrance. She wasn’t quite sure of the protocol with gatekeepers, but noticed how hard they stared inside the car.

  ‘Your arrival is exceptional,’ explained Magus. ‘We never invite Outsiders into our midst. We have to keep ourselves separate. Of course the Hallfolk liaise with the Outside World and I have a company to run in London, but the Villagers never leave Stonewylde.’

  ‘But surely people want to get away sometimes? Don’t they want to go shopping or visit family?’

  Magus smiled again at this.

  ‘The whole concept of shopping is alien to Stonewylde folk. We’re virtually self-sufficient, and the Villagers’ families are all within the community. Why should we want to leave?’

  ‘It’ll take us a while to adjust to this,’ said Miranda, her earlier confidence crumbling at the reality of just how cut off Stonewylde actually was. ‘We can go out if we want to, can’t we?’

  ‘Of course you can! You’re not prisoners here! And neither, for that matter, are any members of the community. But after a while the Outside World loses all relevance. Stonewylde is a world in itself. Eventually you may feel the same way.’

  His eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror and he saw Sylvie nestle deeper into the soft leather of the back seat, a small smile on her face as she surveyed the high walls and tight security. This was the place of her dreams and now she felt safe. Here she’d find sanctuary.

  It had been grey and raining as they left London, but the sky was now blue and scattered with feathery clouds that raced across the brightness. Tiny lambs skipped amongst the sheep, dotted throughout the hills. She saw acres and acres of woodlands stretching away, still brown in winter guise. The hedgerows were starry-white with blackthorn blossom and the banks smothered in early primroses and celandine. Over a field a pair of great golden-brown buzzards circled and drifted on the air currents, the pin feathers of their wings splayed open like fingers.

  Magus pressed a button and Sylvie’s window slid open. A burst of pure country air poured in and engulfed her. Her face broke into a smile of delight as she exhaled the last of her city breath and drank deeply of Stonewylde. She caught Magus’ dark eyes watching her in the mirror and they shared a moment of understanding.

  ‘Welcome home, Sylvie,’ he murmured.

  *

  Miranda and Sylvie were to live in a tiny cottage tucked away beyond the Hall and secluded by woods. The cherry tree in their front garden was in full blossom and they walked to the front door under a shower of white-petal confetti. Sylvie laughed as it settled all over her mother’s glossy red hair, teasing her that she looked like a bride.

  Inside the cottage they stared around in wonder. The furniture was crafted from natural materials and the polished floorboards scattered with rag rugs. There was no central heating, no boiler, no fitted kitchen or bathroom and no electricity. It could have been a home from the Victorian age or even earlier.

  ‘You’ll find it strange at first,’ said Magus as he showed them around. ‘When you’ve integrated into the community you may like to move up to the Hall and I’ll arrange a suite of rooms for you. We have all the mod cons there. But I thought at first you’d prefer some privacy while you settle in, and while Sylvie regains her health.’

  ‘It’s amazing!’ said Miranda, gazing at the simple whitewashed walls and old beams. ‘About as far away as you could get from our grotty flat in London.’

  Sylvie wandered around in a dream, opening the back door wide and gazing out at the woods beyond.

  ‘Normally you’ll join us in the Dining Hall for your meals, but keep some food here as well, and for the settling-in period, Cherry my housekeeper will call daily to look after you.’

  ‘Thank you. I feel a bit … overwhelmed, to be honest,’ gulped Miranda.

  He smiled at her.

  ‘Understandable. Living here will require quite some adjustment for you both. If there’s anything you need, anything at all, don’t be afraid to ask. As part of our community you share whatever we have. And as Hallfolk you have access to many things. There are computers, televisions, a library and stables up at the Hall.’

  ‘Stables? Wow – we’ve never ridden horses before,’ said Miranda. ‘I hope it’s not compulsory!’

  Magus laughed, towering over her in the small sitting room. Sylvie had sunk onto a chair, her face pale and eyes drawn. She pulled out her inhaler and took a quick puff.

  ‘Of course not! And Sylvie, as your health improves I’m sure you’ll make friends with the other young people there. You’ll find we have a thriving social life at Stonewylde, but it’ll seem odd to you at first, I warn you. In fact we have a big event tomorrow, but I think you need a little time before you start joining in our celebrations, don’t you?’

  ‘Oh absolutely,’ agreed Miranda. ‘We’d feel awkward not knowing anyone and Sylvie’s not strong enough yet. Magus, you haven’t said when you want me to start teaching. I could—’

  ‘Not yet. Our priority is to get Sylvie healthy again. I want you to treat these first few weeks as an extended holiday, one that you both need very much. Enjoy the countryside and spring weather and reconnect with nature. Many of the students you’ll be teaching are away in Europe anyway. They won’t be back until Beltane, so there’s plenty of time to really settle in.’

  ‘Beltane?’

  ‘Sorry,’ he smiled, ‘I forget how different it is here. We celebrate Beltane at the beginning of May. Lots of rural places do, though some call it May Day.’

  ‘Maypole dancing, with a May Queen and Morris dancers you mean?’ asked Sylvie in delight, perking up again. ‘I’ve heard of that. I hope I’ll be well enough by then to come and watch.’

  ‘I’m sure you will, and it’ll be a lovely introduction to our customs. Beltane is my favourite festival of the year. Now I’ll leave you to unpack and I’ll send Cherry over shortly. Just relax and enjoy the peace and quiet. Stay in the gardens of the Hall until I get a chance to show you around properly.’

  ‘We will, Magus. And may I say,’ said Miranda a little shyly, ‘just how grateful we are. You’ve been so very kind to us …’

  Magus smiled down at her as she faltered; his eyes were dark and deep and seemed to look inside her soul.

  ‘Not at all. We have
so much here and we’re happy to share it with you. You’re both very welcome.’

  Cherry bustled in later like a broody chicken and soon took control. They were unpacked and settled in before they knew it. She examined the painful eczema on Sylvie’s skin and held up one of her thin arms in bemusement, jowls quivering in disbelief. Miranda’s explanation as to why Sylvie had become so ill in the first place confirmed all her suspicions about the Outside World.

  ‘Aye, I been told of what they do out there. The poison they add to food and how they cook things in strange ways, spinning it around so ‘tis done in a wink of the eye. Whoever heard of such nonsense! I thank the stars we don’t have none of that here. We cook on a range and we eat wholesome food the way nature intended. We’ll soon get some flesh on your poor bones, little maid. And have that sore skin cleared up in no time.’

  On the Equinox Eve Cherry excused herself, leaving them food and firewood for the following day, and careful instructions about cooking on the range. She explained that she’d be joining in the celebrations and wouldn’t be able to come over, sorry though she was to leave them alone so soon after their arrival.

  ‘But Cherry, what do you actually do at the celebrations? Is it like a party? Where do you go?’ asked Sylvie.

  ‘Magus said you’d come to it in your own good time,’ she replied evasively. ‘He said you don’t do things as we do, not in the Outside World. ‘Tis not my place to go prattling about it, he told me. But you’ll see soon enough. I’ll be back the day after tomorrow. Just mind you don’t let the range go out, my dears.’

  That evening they heard some of the ceremony, as the drumming carried through the twilight. When the community raised their voices in unison it could be heard clearly in the cottage. The hair on Sylvie’s arms stood on end, for the sound was primeval and quite compelling. She longed to join in. All her life she’d lived in isolation, on the periphery and never belonging. She’d always been different; one of those children who don’t fit in. Her strange colouring made her stand out, and her quietness formed a barrier around her. Sylvie had led a lonely life, and as she heard the people of Stonewylde chanting together, she wanted more than anything to join the circle of belonging.

  ‘Mum, can’t we just go out and have a peep? See what they’re up to?’

  ‘No, darling, we can’t. You heard what Magus said. And it would be very rude to turn up unannounced. It sounds like some sort of religious ceremony, doesn’t it? Although not exactly what you hear in church on a Sunday!’

  ‘It sounds wonderful, almost unearthly. I can’t wait until the May Day events that Magus told us about.’

  In the flickering light Sylvie’s eyes shone brightly and Miranda smiled. Life had returned to her daughter. Miranda had spent the whole of Sylvie’s life feeling guilty for failing her. Guilty for getting pregnant and not telling anyone until people noticed the tell-tale bump. For going to university and not being a full-time mother, and then for teaching but never earning enough money. She felt constantly guilty about Sylvie’s illnesses and unhappiness which she was sure were her fault for not caring for her daughter in the way she needed. Miranda had spent the years since she was raped in a wood suffering from endless guilt. Even that, as her parents had constantly reminded her, was her own wicked fault because she’d willingly followed the stranger and hadn’t put up a fight. The burden of blame she’d carried was heavy and had often come close to breaking her altogether. Now, as she saw the light in her daughter’s silvery eyes, she felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe now, at last, she might be absolved.

  Yul’s heart beat slow and hard as he watched Buzz strutting about by the cider table surrounded by his gang. Only minutes earlier Yul had been dancing with Holly, admiring her bright eyes and animated face as they tore around the Great Barn together. And now he stood alone, his fists clenching with a strong urge to punch Buzz’s smug face.

  He’d had a good feeling about this evening and up until the moment when the adults joined them, everything had been going well. The Barn was decorated with spring flowers and greenery in honour of Eostre, the tables were laden with food and the musicians on the dais were playing their hearts out. The effects of the ceremony cakes and mead still tingled through their bodies as Yul and Holly danced, their feet skimming the flagstone floor. But as soon as the adults had arrived, their additional ceremonies and rituals in the Stone Circle completed, everything had changed.

  A group of young Hallfolk, several of whom had just undergone their Rite of Adulthood, had swaggered into the Great Barn showing off their new robes and necklets and boasting of their initiation. Holly’s head had swivelled round and then she’d dragged Yul off the dance floor.

  ‘Thanks for the dance,’ she said breathlessly, her cheeks flushed. ‘Got to go now. My friends are here.’

  ‘But … is that it? I thought we were going to spend the evening together.’

  ‘No!’ she laughed. ‘Whatever made you think that? I’m joining them.’

  She nodded towards Buzz and his group, who’d already attracted a gaggle of girls. Yul glared at her, his grey eyes smouldering.

  ‘Why do you want to be with them? They’re all idiots. Especially Buzz.’

  ‘I wouldn’t speak about Buzz like that if I were you,’ she said sharply. ‘And they’re not idiots. They’re all very clever, unlike you, Yul.’

  His face tightened at this and he released her hands.

  ‘It’s your choice, Holly. You’d have much more fun with me. But go and join the herd if that’s what you want. If you’re lucky Buzz might just notice you, although you’ve a lot of competition by the look of it.’

  ‘You really should watch your tongue! For a Villager you’ve a very high opinion of yourself. How could I possibly have more fun with you? You’re nothing but a dumb peasant, Yul, and you’d do well to remember that before you start insulting Hallfolk.’

  Holly had turned and threaded her way through the noisy crowd. Yul’s hands shook as he watched her go. He’d lost sight of her for a minute and when he saw her again she was near the cider table and surrounded by the group. She threw her head back and tossed her hair. The Hallfolk boys closed round her, all vying for her attention. She was obviously very popular with the boys, and she stood on tiptoe and spoke into Buzz’s ear, holding onto the collar of his new robes. Yul saw Buzz, the leader of the group, look across at him and then laugh loudly.

  Now Yul’s heart thumped in his chest as the anger rose. He turned and pushed his way through the throng of people towards the open doors. He was sure the whole crowd around Buzz and Holly were watching him and laughing, and all he wanted was to be outside, away from the lot of them. He passed his sister Rosie near the door and she tried to stop him, but he shook her off angrily.

  Once outside in the cool night he took gulps of air, trying to steady his heartbeat. He hated Holly, stuck up little cow. He’d never dance with her again. And as for his Rite of Adulthood … she was the last person he’d want to partner. He hated Buzz and his gang of friends more than anything. In fact he hated all the Hallfolk, he decided, with their pale hair and stupid way of talking. They were useless. As far as he could see they provided nothing for the community and leeched off the hard-working Villagers. He hated every one of them. If he had his way there’d be no Hallfolk at Stonewylde.

  Yul stomped off down the lane, his Spring Equinox celebration completely ruined. He’d go home to bed. He’d been working hard all week, unlike the fools panting over Holly like a pack of dogs sniffing at a bitch on heat. He kicked viciously at stones as he marched furiously along the track – until he heard tuneless whistling ahead. He instantly jumped off the lane, crouching behind a bush. It was his father! He must have gone home to change out of his robes.

  Luckily Alwyn hadn’t seen him. That was all he needed tonight; another beating. Not that he’d done anything wrong, but Alwyn didn’t need an excuse. Yul stayed crouched behind the bush waiting as his father passed by. He was a beefy man with arms like hams and fists the size o
f overgrown swedes. The only good thing about his size was that it made him slow. Yul could sometimes get away or dodge the blows. But often that just made it worse, and Alwyn worked himself up into a spitting, scarlet rage that wouldn’t be quenched until he’d given the boy a good thrashing. Yul thanked the stars that he’d heard his father coming. He waited until Alwyn was well past before emerging again. The shock of the near-miss calmed him down and his previous anger evaporated. Buzz and Holly and all the others could go and stuff themselves for all he cared.

  But then he heard a shout from behind. He swung round and saw a group of figures outlined against the light streaming from the Great Barn.

  ‘Hey! Stop right there, Village boy!’

  He recognised Buzz’s arrogant voice.

  ‘Piss off!’ he shouted back.

  ‘I said stop! I order you as an adult!’

  It was one of the pivotal laws of the community that children respected and obeyed adults; not only their own parents but any adult. Yul felt the rage start to pound inside again. If Buzz was an adult it was by a matter of an hour or so; he’d only just had his Rite. But as he hesitated, the group approached and he knew he must face them.

  ‘Don’t bother, Buzz,’ said Holly. ‘Just leave him and let’s get back to the dance.’

  ‘No, I want to sort this little runt out. You told me what he said and he’s not getting away with it. You stop right there, Yul!’

  He caught up and grabbed hold of Yul’s arm. Buzz was taller and far more heavily built, and Yul felt the familiar helplessness descend. It was a while since Buzz had had a go at him, but all the incidents from the past came flooding back.

  ‘I’ve got a bone to pick with you, boy.’

  ‘Oh really?’

  ‘Yeah, really! First, stay away from Holly. She’s way out of your league. Next, don’t you—’

  ‘What do you mean, out of my league? She wasn’t complaining when I danced with her earlier.’

  ‘Well she is now!’

  Holly smiled, enjoying being argued over.