by Kit Berry
She hobbled over to the back of the room and Yul cast an anxious glance at Sylvie, who was looking around the tiny one-roomed cottage with interest. The crow hopped onto the old woman’s hunched shoulder as she stood mixing something at the range. She handed Sylvie the filthy mug and the girl drank down the contents without a murmur, surprisingly at ease in such strange surroundings.
‘Now it can start,’ muttered Mother Heggy, sinking painfully into her rocking chair. The crow stepped onto the chair back and surveyed the two young ones. Sylvie sat in the hard chair opposite with Yul standing by her side.
‘The Summer Solstice draws near. But before it can start, there will be more suffering in the final days of the Oak King’s rule. He will try to destroy you, Yul. I have warned you of this and you must be strong. Have faith in your destiny. You must never give up even when all seems lost. This silver girl will help you. Hold her in your heart.’
Yul nodded, although he had no idea what she meant.
‘What can I do to help him?’ asked Sylvie.
‘Ah, that’s the rub. You may protect him now, but you’ll be a part of the suffering and torment as the wheel turns towards the darkness of the Holly King’s hour. You will shine clear in the end, ‘tis the truth. You’ll be deceived and your light will be hidden like the moon shrouded in cloud, but in the end you’ll shine clear. This dark one knows that, for you are part of his destiny. But before, before this, you must seek him and take him from the place of bones and death. When the time comes you’ll know. You are his saviour.’
Sylvie nodded, alarmed at this further reference to being a saviour. Yul was mystified.
‘So what must I do, Mother Heggy?’ he asked. ‘I don’t understand.’
She rocked gently, the crow clutching on to the worn wooden chair top.
‘You too will know, when the time comes. You’ve been to the Stone Circle every day?’
‘Yes. I feel the power even stronger now.’
‘Good, good. ‘Tis all you can do for now, but remember this – Stonewylde is a place of ancient magic. You’re a tiny piece of it, and so is the silver one. You’re both a part of the moon dance, a part of the magic. Two threads in the robes of the Earth Goddess. It takes many threads to make the whole and you’re both woven into the pattern.’
Yul frowned, wishing she’d stop talking in riddles.
‘What about my father?’ he asked.
‘The tanner? If you can do it right, my boy, he’ll be the first one to fall. Always listen to Mother Heggy. Heed me well and all will prevail as ‘tis writ. You’ll be left standing tall and powerful, with this bright one at your side.’
‘Me and Sylvie together?’ whispered Yul, his heart leaping with excitement.
‘Aye, darkness and brightness, black and silver, ‘tis as I foretold and the magus knows it. Solstice by name and solstice by destiny. Raven did right there. My girl always knew.’
‘Please, Mother Heggy, talk straight,’ said Yul with a note of exasperation. ‘I want to heed you but I don’t understand. What exactly will happen?’
‘All I can tell you now is this – those who stand against you will fall, one by one.’
‘But you say Magus is still the one who’ll try to destroy me? I don’t …’
‘Hush, Yul,’ whispered Sylvie. ‘She can’t tell us exactly. Nothing is definite. But don’t worry, we have each other.’
‘Aye, you have each other. Now you must go, for someone is about who may do you harm.’
She stood up creakily and ushered them towards the door.
‘Remember, be strong and look to each other. You, my girl, be brave and remember why you’ve come here. Don’t ignore your sight – take heed of it. This boy needs you. When his hour is darkest, you’ll be the shining light to lead him to safety. Come to me again when you need my aid. ‘Twill be soon, right enough.’
She sighed, clutching onto the doorframe for support, her little body hunched and twisted as a tree on a cliff-top.
‘And you, son of the solstice, you have such a dark time ahead. When I see you next, you’ll bear the marks of destruction. You’ll be changed. The place of bones and death will call you for its own. The evil of the stones will hunger for your soul. You must hold the magic in your heart and walk with the Goddess. Blessings, my young ones.’
The crow hopped out of the door and flapped along their path ahead of them. They split up before they got to the Village, Sylvie walking up the main track towards Woodland Cottage, while Yul cut through the fields and made his way back to the woods. The crow perched on a rowan tree, watching them part and go their separate ways. He alone saw the tall, robed figure up on the hill, staff in hand, looking down on them and watching intently. The bird let out a mighty caw and returned to his mistress.
The day of the Blue Moon, the last day in May, dawned grey and damp. Yul had risen very early for the sunrise and sat on the Altar Stone in the drizzle. There was no sense of well-being, no bathing in the warmth of morning gold. The power, however, was as strong. He felt the familiar surge within, the mounting excitement and energy. He stood on the stone, legs apart and head flung back, raising his outstretched arms to the cloudy heavens. Every part of him throbbed with the energy. He remained at the Circle for some time, skin and clothes soaked through by the fine rain, until it was time to go to work.
Sylvie woke later and was disappointed to see the grey skies and rain. Magus was due back for a few days and her mother was meeting him for another evening picnic. Miranda had talked of nothing else since he’d left for Exeter the week before. Sylvie assumed it would now be postponed because of the weather, and was worried how she’d get to Hare Stone with Yul if her mother was at home fussing about.
Miranda was in a fever of anticipation all day. She bathed in the luxurious white marble bathroom at the Hall, carefully washing her auburn hair for Magus’ admiration. She assumed that although their picnic would be cancelled she’d still be seeing him, either up at the Hall or in the cottage. She couldn’t decide what to wear and, back home again, she tried on several different outfits. Sylvie was happy to escape to the Hall for an afternoon of French lessons. She found her mother’s excitement both ridiculous and irritating, and was sorely tempted to put her straight on the matter of Magus and his history with women.
Yul put in a full day’s work making hurdles in one of the hazel coppices. It was fairly strenuous, particularly as the older men always got him to do the running around and fetching and carrying. By the end of the day he was tired and very hungry. He was also filthy and knew that he’d have to risk the bath house. He could never go moongazing with Sylvie like this. Eventually Old Greenbough came over to him.
‘When you’ve tidied up here, Yul, you can go on. A good day’s work, lad. Well done.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Will you be alright in that miserable tree house of yours tonight? ‘Tis the first proper rain we’ve had since you built it. Go back to our hut if your bed gets wet.’
‘I will, thank you.’
‘Aye well, you’re no good to me if you catch a chill, boy.’
Yul smiled at Greenbough’s apparent gruffness and trudged off towards the Village, ignoring the rain running down his face and soaking his clothes. It was too early; his father would still be at home eating supper like a pig at the trough. But Yul felt daring and decided to risk getting clean clothes before going to the bath house. He arrived in the Village and skulked along the main track. He was very dirty, his clothes non-descript brown and his long hair hanging in damp locks over his face. Nobody would notice him so camouflaged.
He reached the cottage where he’d lived all his life but now he felt like a stranger, rootless and not belonging. He could hear his family inside chattering noisily, their voices and laughter carrying out through the open window. Which meant that Alwyn couldn’t be in there. Just in time, Yul pulled back as Alwyn left the privy at the end of the garden, buttoning his trousers. He’d gained even more weight recently and his great
belly ballooned over his belt, straining the buttons of his shirt. As he entered the cottage by the back door, silence descended inside. Yul crouched under the window with a bitter heart.
Not long after, Rosie came out the back with some slops for the pig. She was shocked to see Yul, dirty from head to toe, but gave him a quick, fierce hug. She went upstairs and threw down some clean clothes from the open window. He ran off to the bath house and enjoyed a soak; for once there was plenty of hot water as most people were still eating supper.
Later, clean and scrubbed, he watched from the doorway for Alwyn to pass by so he could go home to eat. He was very hungry and the longer he waited, the more his resentment grew. Why should he have to live like an outcast because of that man? Yul leant in the shadows out of the rain, tall and lean, unaware of the sinister figure he made.
At last Alwyn came stomping along the track on his way to the pub. Yul’s grey eyes smouldered hatred and his mouth twisted in contempt at the sight of the overweight, red-faced man. He remembered the beatings he’d taken over the years, the constant fear and humiliation he’d suffered since he was a small child. His fists clenched so hard his finger nails cut into his palms. But somehow he controlled his rage and waited for the object of his hatred to pass by.
Maizie was delighted to see Yul and dished him up a large plateful of food, secretly kept by for him in the oven. He was starving and sat down to devour it, his mother and sister fussing around and shooing the little ones away so he could eat in peace.
‘Oh Yul, you’ll get so wet tonight in that tree shelter. Please go to the hut, won’t you? I don’t want you ill on top of everything else.’
Yul grinned up at her through his drying hair, letting little Leveret climb onto his lap. The tiny girl kissed him and he held her tight. He missed his family so much but only dared creep home briefly when Alwyn was out drinking, and even then he couldn’t relax. If his father came back unexpectedly and found his mother feeding him …
‘You’re as bad as Old Greenbough, Mother. He said the same.’
‘Well, the old boy’s right. Listen to him if you won’t listen to me. Rosie, take that child off poor Yul – she’s clambering all over him. Now, my lad, do you want pudding? I’ve got some nice jam sponge and custard, so—’
‘I can’t, Mother. I must be off. It’s the Moon Fullness tonight.’
‘That’s not for ages yet. And what do you need to do with the rising? You’re not an adult yet. Oh Yul, you’re not—’
‘No I’m not! But I’m meeting someone.’
‘Ooh, Yul’s got a sweetheart!’ laughed Rosie. ‘Who is she? Tell us, Yul!’
‘No! It’s none of your business. And she’s not a sweetheart. Well, not really.’
To his horror he felt himself blushing. Rosie shrieked with laughter and jigged Leveret in her arms in glee.
‘Look, look, Mother, he’s gone scarlet! So she is a sweetheart!’
‘Leave the boy alone, Rosie. So what if he’s found a girl he likes? He’ll be sixteen at the Winter Solstice so there’s no harm if he’s walking with someone. I just hope she’s worthy of you, Yul. You’re a very special boy.’
‘No, Mother. I’m not sure I’m worthy of her, believe me.’
Harold from the Hall arrived at the cottage with a note from Magus saying he’d be over at eight-thirty.
‘There, you see? It’ll be okay,’ said Sylvie wearily, sick of her mother debating endlessly if he’d turn up or cancel the whole thing.
‘But what does it mean?’ wailed Miranda. ‘Are we still going on the picnic, do you think? Or does he want to stay here? Because if …’
‘MUM! I don’t know! For goodness’ sake, stop fussing and going on and on! You’re driving me up the wall.’
‘There’s no need to be like that, Sylvie. It’s just that if—’
‘Please! I really have no idea.’
Sylvie was tense and strung up herself. The familiar sensation was building inside her and she had her own worries; how to get out into the woods to meet Yul with her mother and Magus about?
‘Sylvie, what if he wants to spend the evening here?’
‘What if he does?’
‘But you’re here. I mean …’
She tailed off, looking uncomfortable, and Sylvie seized her chance.
‘Oh Mum, don’t worry about that! I’m going to the Hall tonight to watch a film with some friends. Sorry – I thought I’d told you.’
The relief on her mother’s face was almost ludicrous.
‘That’s alright then. Will you be gone before eight-thirty? And darling, I don’t want to sound like I’m chucking you out or anything, but don’t come back too early, will you? It would be so embarrassing if—’
‘Yes, alright, I can imagine. I’ll stay out late I promise.’
She couldn’t believe her luck. All that time with Yul! The only drawback was the rain splattering noisily outside.
In the shelter of the woods it wasn’t quite as wet, although Yul was soaked to the skin by the time Sylvie hurried up the path towards him. She was still reasonably calm and in control as the moonrise wasn’t for almost another hour, but she trembled with cold and excitement. In her eagerness to leave she hadn’t thought about suitable clothing, and Miranda was far too distracted to notice what her daughter was wearing. They stood there, water dripping off the leaves in little torrents all over them, both wet through.
‘It’s ages till moonrise, Sylvie. We’ll get so cold.’
‘Can we go to your tree house?’
He laughed at this.
‘It’s not a house, it’s a covered bed really. And it’s soaking wet too.’
‘Oh, I didn’t realise.’
‘We could go to the woodsmen’s hut, if you like. It’s rough and ready but we’ll be dry and there’s a fire.’
‘Oh yes, let’s go there!’
Once inside, Yul lit some candles and stirred the wood-burning stove to life. He put a kettle of water on to boil for some tea.
‘One thing we’ve always got plenty of is wood,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ she said, feeling shy now she was alone with him in such close proximity. He was very efficient, stoking up the fire and getting the tea things ready. She realised that other than the Great Barn, she’d never been inside a building with him before.
‘That was a joke, Sylvie.’
‘Sorry.’
Her teeth chattered with cold and nervousness.
‘Here, this will help.’
He carefully wrapped an old blanket around her shoulders, leaning close to pull it together at the front. He smelt of herbs and his fingers brushed her hand as he pulled the blanket across her. The blanket, however, didn’t smell so sweet and Sylvie wrinkled her nose. Yul laughed, pulling it tight around her.
‘Don’t be so fussy! If you could see where I sleep every night …’
They sat companionably together, she on Greenbough’s old armchair and he on the floor at her feet. The tea was hot and welcome. Gradually she relaxed and stopped shaking.
‘Mum was driving me mad today,’ she said, sipping her tea. ‘She’s meeting Magus tonight. She’s been fretting about what to wear, whether or not their stupid picnic will still be on, and …’
‘Oh it’ll be on alright,’ said Yul dryly.
‘How do you know?’
‘Remember the iron rings? The tent I told you about? Magus won’t let a bit of rain spoil his fun. And … I think he may have something else planned for tonight too.’
‘Something else? What do you mean?’
‘I’ve been thinking about this, and I have a feeling he may try to make a baby tonight with your mother.’
‘YUL!!’ She gaped at him. ‘A baby? Surely not!’
‘Sylvie, I told you about the Moon Fullness and what happens here. Half the fertile women of Stonewylde will try to get pregnant tonight. It’s the Blue Moon which is far more magical than normal and the very best time of all for conception. Remember I was conceived at such
a time.’
‘But my mum doesn’t want a baby!’
‘Well, I don’t know about that, but I think Magus may try. I’ve heard he’s very careful about how many children he fathers. Mother says there’s lots of girls who boast they’re carrying his child, but I can’t say that it’s common knowledge who his children are, other than that bastard Buzz of course. If everyone who said they’ve had his child really had, the place would be over-run with his babies. I don’t think there are very many at all as he’s been so careful. But Rowan’s pregnant from Beltane, everyone says, and I reckon your mother’s on his list too.’
‘But not to make her pregnant, surely? I can’t see that—’
‘Just think about it – why did he choose to come back tonight of all nights? He could have had a woman in the Outside World if he just wanted sex, couldn’t he? But he came back here specially, and I’m sure it’s because he wants your mother to conceive. She’s someone fresh, like getting in new stock for breeding the dairy herds and horses and suchlike.’
‘I think the whole thing’s disgusting! And why spoil the full moon with sex anyway?’
He laughed and stared down at his hands.
‘Some people would say that the sex is magical too,’ he said quietly, ‘and all part of the celebration and joy of the Moon Fullness. You don’t think very highly of it, do you?’
Now she looked embarrassed.
‘It’s just the thought of my mother and Magus … it’s horrible. Can we change the subject? In fact, can we go up to Hare Stone? I’m starting to feel strange.’
‘Okay, let me damp down the fire a bit and blow out the candles.’
They left the snug cosiness of the hut, the relentless rain immediately stealing their warmth and dryness. Together they hurried along the path, climbing up through the woodland until they got to the place where it joined the field. They raced through the long, drenched grass past the boulders and rocky outcrops to the top of the hill.
Hare Stone stood grey and gloomy in the dark evening, the rain falling in silver needles. Sylvie’s hair was plastered to her head and stuck to her back like long straight string. She lifted her arms to the heavy skies and started to sing, oblivious to the cold and wet. Yul wished he felt the same. His hair too was stuck to his skin, as were his clothes, and he was freezing cold. He sank down with his back against Hare Stone and hugged his knees. It may be the Blue Moon, but he didn’t feel particularly magical. He wished he had a tent too.
