by Kit Berry
‘Our Magus!’ said Rosie.
Maizie got up out of her chair and trimmed the lamp.
‘That’s right. Now you two better be off to bed before your father gets back.’
‘But what happened to Raven? Please tell us, Mother,’ begged Rosie. Yul, already scooping up his wood whittlings at the mention of Alwyn’s return, paused to hear the end of the story.
‘Well, after the second baby was born, Raven lost her mind completely. She hated Elm even more than she’d hated Basil. I told you Elm was a cruel man. I believe he forced Raven, and of course Mother Heggy despised him for it. There was very ill feeling between her and the Hallfolk, and they say she tried to hex him. He took the baby away from her too, just as Basil had done. The two little boys, Clip and Sol, grew up together as Hallfolk in Elm’s care. Clip was as dreamy as his father before him, but Sol was different. He was wild as a boy – fighting, causing mayhem, riding around on a horse too big for him, upsetting everyone. He was very bad and the young Villagers feared him. He could be as cruel and wicked as his father.’
‘But he’s not like that now, is he, Mother?’ asked Rosie.
‘No, not any more. Things got so bad that Elm sent both the boys away to a school in the Outside World. A school where they stayed for most of the year and only came back from time to time. It calmed Sol down, made him mend his ways. Gradually he started to take an interest in Stonewylde. He began to visit the folk, talk to them and find out what the problems were. I remember him well. I was only a young girl then.’
She paused, her eyes faraway.
‘He was a lovely young man, so full of energy and life. Then the best thing happened a few years later: Elm died and Sol took over. Left his work in the Outside World and came back to Stonewylde for good. And that’s when our lives changed.’
‘But surely it should’ve been Clip who took over?’
‘It should, but he didn’t want it. Didn’t want to be magus, didn’t want the hard work of sorting out all the problems at Stonewylde. He liked to go off into the Outside World on his travels, as he still does to this day. And they do say the Earth Goddess herself chooses who’s to be the magus. There was no doubt about it – the Earth Magic came to Sol. I remember it well, one summer solstice. A great crack and a flash of green and he almost fell off the Altar Stone at the sheer power of it. From that moment on we knew things would be alright.’
‘I’ve seen the Earth Magic come to him on the Altar Stone,’ said Yul.
‘Aye, the Goddess loves him alright. She fills him to the brim and gives him the strength he needs. And he certainly needed it then, in them early days. Stonewylde was just about as bad as it could be. Magus spent years pulling the estate up to what it is today. He had all the cottages and buildings repaired and new ones built. He organised the fields and livestock so there was enough food for everyone to eat, not just them greedy Hallfolk. Sorted out the woodlands, repaired the school and the Great Barn and, best of all, he started celebrating the festivals again properly, as they should be. The poor man worked himself to the bone, he did. In the saddle from dawn to dusk every day for years, for there was so much to be done. You don’t realise, growing up in these good times, just what our magus has done for us all.’
‘Didn’t he get rid of most of the Hallfolk too?’ asked Yul. ‘I remember Greenbough talking about that once.’
‘Aye, he did. Weeded ’em out, sent most of them packing. There’d been far too many of them lazing about up there. Like rats cast out of the granary, they were. Magus said they could come back once or twice a year for the festivals and that was it. He took their children into the Hall School if they wanted, but even they have to leave when they’re grown up, most o’ them.’
‘Good thing too!’ said Yul. ‘There are still too many Hallfolk to my mind.’
‘You can see why everyone loves Magus so much,’ said Rosie.
‘He was our saviour. Without him we wouldn’t be here now, so happy and content. Outsiders would’ve taken over. Magus built up the great boundary wall, for that had crumbled in places, and he put guards on the gate. One Samhain, in the Great Barn, he told us all of his dream for Stonewylde. And we’ve been living that dream ever since.’
‘I heard when I was at school, that “magus” means “the wise one” and “the magician”,’ said Rosie. ‘And from what you’ve told us, he really is.’
‘Aye, he is,’ said Maizie warmly. ‘Goddess bless him!’
‘What I don’t understand,’ said Yul, ‘if he’s so wise and magical, is why Mother Heggy told me today that I must beware of him.’
Maizie looked at him sharply.
‘What did she say exactly?’
Yul was surprised to see the two bright spots burning on her cheeks. They were always a sure sign that she was angry. He shrugged.
‘She just said to be careful and not make him angry.’
‘Good advice you should heed, my lad. You’ve upset him a great deal lately and you’d do well to beware of upsetting him any more. The crone spoke right. Was that all she said?’
‘I think so.’
‘Good. And my advice is to stay away from her. She’s an interfering old busy-body and she’s caused a lot of harm in her time. Stay well away from her, Yul, I’m warning you. I don’t want you visiting her again, and you can tell Greenbough that if he tries to send you there on another errand.’
But she was talking to thin air. Then she too heard the tuneless whistling that heralded her husband’s arrival. Rosie’s skirt was only just visible at the top of the stairs as the front door banged open. Breathing a sigh of relief at her children’s speedy departure, she picked up the empty tea mugs and went into the kitchen to prepare Alwyn one of his late night snacks.
11
Sylvie sat in one of the empty schoolrooms working on her geography project. On the table were several books from the library, and she was engrossed in her research. Outside it was wet and grey, all the bright new greenness dripping damply. A gardener pulled up weeds in a flower bed near the window, but Sylvie, curled up on cushions in the window seat with her computer on her lap, was unaware of anything other than her study. She looked up with a frown as a couple of the older girls entered the room.
‘Oh hi, Sylvie. How are you doing?’
‘Fine thanks. Just researching this volcanoes project.’
‘Oh, yeah, I remember doing that last year. There’s a good programme on Pompeii in the library – very interesting.’
‘Thanks, I’ll look out for it.’
Sylvie smiled, still appreciating the novelty of being treated kindly by the other students. Nobody from her London school would have even thought of offering help.
‘Have you seen Buzz?’ asked July. ‘He promised to revise some history with us. He’s really clever and he’s going to sail through his exams.’
‘No I haven’t seen him, but I’ll tell him you’re looking for him if I do.’
‘Thanks. See you later.’
Sylvie settled back again, wriggling into the cushions, the computer cradled on her knees. Outside, the rain pattered against the diamond panes of the mullioned window. She closed her eyes in contentment; this was the way to study, not sitting in rows surrounded by a mob baying for the teacher’s blood.
‘You won’t learn anything like that,’ came a voice from the doorway. Sylvie’s eyes shot open and she groaned quietly.
‘July and Wren are looking for you,’ she said. But Buzz came in and closed the door behind him, crossing the polished wooden floor to sit next to her on the window seat. She felt a flicker of irritation. She really didn’t like him despite his huge popularity amongst the Hallfolk teenagers, and she’d felt uncomfortable near him ever since the incident with Yul in the woods by the Stone Circle.
‘I know they are. I’m trying to avoid them.’
‘They’re hoping you’ll revise some history with them.’
‘Yeah, I know. But it’s not revision they’re interested in, believe me.’
>
Sylvie raised an eyebrow at this but kept silent. She couldn’t understand his popularity. The girls hung around him, flirting and giggling. And the boys were just as bad, always deferring to him, vying for his attention. Surely she couldn’t be the only one who found him conceited and over-full of his own importance?
He leaned over and looked at her screen. He was big and masculine, clean smelling but exuding a male scent that made her nose wrinkle. His arms were covered in curly golden hair and he wore a heavy gold chain bracelet.
‘Ah, volcanoes. That’s an interesting subject. I could help you if you like; I’ve got my old project on file.’
‘No, I’m fine, thanks very much,’ she said quickly.
He sat back against his corner of the window seat and studied her.
‘You really don’t like me, do you Sylvie?’
She felt embarrassed. Was it that obvious? She shook her head quickly.
‘No … I mean, yes, I—’
‘You don’t have to pretend. It’s alright – we just got off on the wrong footing, you and me. But I’d like to get it sorted out before I go away for my exams. I really like you. You’re different from the others here and I want us to be friends.’
Her heart sank.
‘Of course we’re friends, Buzz. It’s just that you’re much older than me and I don’t feel comfortable with someone who’s so much more grown up than I am.’
He smiled at her and she realised that he was quite attractive after all, in a large, blond way. His face was smooth and small featured for someone so big, and his eyes were an interesting shade of light blue and very intense. He had a nice smile and white, even teeth, with a masculine dimple in his chin. Then an image of Yul came to her mind – dark tousled hair, thin face and deep grey eyes. There was no competition.
‘At Stonewylde we all reach adulthood at sixteen, and I only recently had my sixteenth birthday – at the Spring Equinox. I was told you’ll be sixteen next year, at the Summer Solstice? So you’re not that far behind me. And surely it’s good to have someone a bit older and more experienced to help you through everything?’ His pale eyes gleamed and he cracked his knuckles as she searched for a suitable reply. ‘I was going to ask you to come for a walk with me, but it’s a little wet outside.’
‘Yes, much too wet.’
‘Pity. But anyway, I was hoping for your help with my Religious Studies revision.’
Sylvie realised she wouldn’t get rid of him quickly so she saved her work and put her computer on the table. She tucked her feet back onto the window seat and looked across at him, knowing she must try to be friendly. They lived in the same small community and he was making a big effort to be nice to her. She should really be flattered that he’d singled her out when the other girls were all so keen for his company.
‘Okay, if I can, but I’m sure you know much more about it than I do.’
‘Your hair is amazing, Sylvie. It’s almost white. It’s like silk.’
‘Thank you. So what did you want to ask me?’
‘Oh, about the Christian Church. I know about the rites of passage, like baptism and confirmation. I just wondered if you and Miranda were churchgoers before you came here, and if you could tell me what it’s like. Just some general background stuff in case I get a question about it in my exam.’
‘I’m afraid I can’t really help. We never went to church. My grandparents were apparently very religious and they disowned Mum, and—’
‘Really? Why?’
‘Because she had me so young and wasn’t married.’
‘That’s awful!’
‘Yes, not very caring at all, chucking out a young girl to fend for herself. So my mum’s always said the whole idea of religion was a load of hypocrisy and she wouldn’t go near a church. But there were some beautiful churches in London. It’s strange that there isn’t one in the Village, isn’t it? An old village like that, there’s always a church. It’s as traditional as the pub and the village green.’
‘Yes, it is, but there’s never been a church here. That’s how we’ve managed to keep apart from the Outside World.’
‘Aah! I’ve wondered how Stonewylde has stayed so separate and cut off.’
‘It’s all very interesting – we learned about it a couple of years ago from this funny little Hallfolk chap who visits every summer. He’s an Oxford don, a professor of history I think. Magus got him to give us a special talk about his research into Stonewylde’s history. Apparently the separation began when the Normans invaded and conquered England, because up until then there were many small communities like Stonewylde.’
‘So why isn’t there a church here?’
‘I can’t remember everything the professor said, but somehow the community at Stonewylde managed to resist the Normans. William the Conqueror ordered his barons to build churches all over the land, alongside their castles and manor houses, and usually on pagan sites. It was how he took control of the country and subdued the Saxons – and also how the Old Religion was officially stamped out. But for some reason – maybe a pay-off of some sort – no Norman baron ever settled at Stonewylde.’
‘How fascinating,’ said Sylvie. ‘I love history.’
‘Me too!’ beamed Buzz. ‘So we do have something in common, Sylvie.’
‘Mmn, maybe. And there’s never been a church here at all?’
‘No, it’s always been a pagan community, following the old, indigenous beliefs that were around long before Christianity. That’s why you don’t find people at Stonewylde with Biblical names, like Matthew and Rachel. The Villagers have never even heard of the Bible. We do have some old names, Celtic and Saxon, but we choose most of our names from things in the natural world – trees and birds and plants.’
‘That’s why you’re Buzzard?’
‘That’s right. I’ve always thought one day I’d name my children after birds, like me.’
He smiled at her and Sylvie found herself warming to him a little. He wasn’t quite as insensitive and uncouth as she’d thought, and he really seemed to love Stonewylde. She smiled back and he looked ridiculously pleased. Sylvie had always considered herself unattractive and wasn’t used to having any kind of effect on the opposite sex. It was really quite fun.
She flicked her hair back so it rippled down her shoulders, enjoying Buzz’s gaze of blatant admiration. She was like a child discovering a box of matches but knowing nothing of fire.
‘You’re leaving soon for your exams, aren’t you?’ she asked.
‘Yes, we’re all staying at a public school near Exeter, owned by a Hallfolk relation.’
‘I don’t see why you can’t take your exams here. Why do you all have to go to another school?’
‘Because we’re not a registered centre at Stonewylde. Magus doesn’t want inspectors poking their noses in. The place in Exeter’s lovely, although not as grand as Stonewylde.’
‘Have all the Hallfolk got houses and jobs in the Outside World?’
‘Most of them, yes. We can’t all live here, like the Villagers. They support the community and they’re happy labouring in menial jobs, but we need to earn money. That’s how Hallfolk do their bit to provide for the estate. Most of the Hallfolk live out, and many of them are very successful.’
‘I didn’t realise that. Do they all come back here to visit?’
‘Yes, but not all at once. They come back once or twice a year for a stay, always during one of the festivals and especially Summer Solstice. Magus regulates who comes for which festival so we’re not completely swamped. Most of them send their children here to be educated and pay a fortune for it, just like any other public school.’
‘And have you always lived here?’
‘Full time since I was eight, when I started Hall School. Before that just for long visits.’
‘Do your parents live here now? I don’t really know who’s related to who. It’s quite confusing.’
He laughed.
‘It’s very confusing! And we’re all rela
ted somehow. Magus has an enormous family tree in his office. Sometimes he has tests done too, to see how closely we’re related. We have to be careful about who we partner because of the dangers of inbreeding. My mother lives in the Outside World, but she sent me to live here when I was eight because she wanted me to grow up as Hallfolk and be educated at Stonewylde. I go and stay with her every year. I’m due for a long visit straight after my exams actually.’
‘And what about your father? Is he one of the Hallfolk too?’
He looked at Sylvie in surprise.
‘My father? Of course he’s Hallfolk! Didn’t you know? I’m Magus’ son!’
Sylvie was taken aback. There was no evidence of a wife, so she’d assumed that Magus was single and childless.
‘You look shocked, Sylvie. Hadn’t you guessed?’
‘I … no, I hadn’t. I didn’t realise he had a child. Or a wife.’
Buzz laughed out loud at this.
‘Oh Sylvie, he hasn’t got a wife! He’s the magus. Every girl, Hallfolk and Villager, dreams of having him for her Rite of Adulthood. They all choose him for their initiation. He certainly couldn’t perform his role as the magus if he were married.’
Sylvie looked down at her hands. It seemed sordid and disgusting, the thought of Magus with so many different women, all wanting his attention and favours. And then she remembered her mother. Miranda was falling in love with him but she was just one more woman to add to his list. Sylvie felt quite sick. How could she ever tell her?
‘But I don’t understand. The Rite of Adulthood … what do you mean? Do people make love then? Up in the Stone Circle?’
‘Yes, it’s part of the ceremony. After the others have left, you cast off childhood and embrace adulthood. It’s a very special and sacred ritual.’
Her throat felt tight and she wanted to cry. It was horrible and repulsive. She’d thought Stonewylde and the magical ceremonies were so perfect, so beautiful. Instead it was all about sex.
Buzz looked concerned and leant across, tipping up her chin.
‘Hey, what’s wrong? Are you crying? Oh Sylvie, don’t be upset!’
