Solstice at Stonewylde Read Free Page A

me. You were such a lovely girl and you’re a fine woman. I wish that—’
    She frowned at him and removed her hand from his.
    ‘Thank you for calling on me, sir. Samhain Blessings to you.’
    By mid-morning the next day the heavy mist had lifted, although the day remained overcast and grey. Children ran around the Village excitedly, desperate to get on with the festivities. Everyfire in the Village had been extinguished and everyone must fast until the feast in the evening. The trees encircling the Green had already shed their leaves, victims of a wild and gusty storm that had raged the day after the full moon, and had now taken on their skeletal winter appearance. The remains of the messy rooks’ nests had blown away too in the south-westerly gales and now only the great yew remained clothed in glossy dark-green, its slips looking like the barbs of a bird’s feathers. It was the last day of the pagan year, the day for ending the old. It was the day of death.
    In the morning the Samhain drama prepared by the youngsters was performed in the Great Barn. It was a spectacular event, full of dance and music with everyone masked and costumed. Sylvie hadn’t taken part; she was feeling far too weak and she’d missed all the rehearsals anyway. Magus noticed her absence and at mid-day he left the festivities to fetch her from the Hall. She sat now in the jolting cart beside her mother, huddled miserably in her black cloak. This was her first time outside since the night of the Hunter’s Moon over a week ago.
    Sylvie hadn’t wanted to come today, but Magus had stormed into their rooms and insisted that she go to the Village immediately to take part in the afternoon and evening ceremonies. He’d been furious when she’d refused. Miranda hadn’t batted an eyelid when he’d slapped Sylvie hard, shouting at her and throwing clothes at her to put on. Her mother had merely looked on as he dragged her, crying and struggling, out of the rooms and downstairs. He’d bundled her roughly towards the waiting horse and cart, his one concession to her weakness.
    ‘Behave yourself, girl!’ he’d hissed menacingly into her face, dumping her on the seat in the back of the cart. ‘I told you yesterday you’d take part in the festival and so you shall. There’s nothing wrong with you so snap out of it and stop being pathetic!’
    Shivering in her cloak, she tried to stifle the sobs that escaped every so often. She felt ill and weak, but a dull anger burned inside her. It was only when Sylvie realised it was Tom at thereins that she managed to pull herself together. As soon as Magus had ridden on ahead, she leant forward and whispered to the ostler.
    ‘Tom, do you have any news of Yul? Is he alright?’
    The old man turned and gazed down at her in consternation. He was unsure how honest to be for this poor girl looked little better than the boy, but she deserved the truth.
    ‘I’m not to speak of it, but I reckon you won’t spread the word and get me into trouble. So no, miss, Yul’s not alright at all. He’s alive, and that’s a miracle in itself, but he’s in a bad way. He can’t stand nor barely sit up and he can’t take no food. I done what I can, and Mother Heggy’s sent potions. But … well, ‘tis not looking good for the lad.’
    ‘What did they do to him?’ she whispered, closing her eyes in anguish at the thought of Yul suffering. ‘Was he whipped again?’
    ‘No, miss! He were brung up to the Hall like this the day after the Moon Fullness. That Jackdaw carried him into the byre like a brace o’ rabbits slung over his shoulders. They done nothing to him since, but I reckon Yul’s been poisoned. His eyes aren’t right and he don’t know who he is or nothing.’
    Miranda pulled her back onto the seat.
    ‘What are you whispering about, Sylvie? Don’t talk with the servants like that. You know Magus wouldn’t like it.’
    Sylvie glared at her. Even under Clip’s hypnosis, she couldn’t understand how her