Moondance of Stonewylde (9 page)

The Villagers spent every hour of daylight bringing in the crops as they ripened; day by day all the soft fruits and many vegetables were picked and preserved. The older Village children were pulled out of school and trooped around the estate to help with the harvest. Every evening the Village boys went out with snares, cudgels and slingshots to the warrens on the downs. The ripening crops mustn’t suffer and it was every boy’s duty to cull the rabbits that thrived in their thousands. Nothing was wasted as rabbit meat was a staple for the Villagers, the bones were processed into glue and building materials and the fur made into warm winter covers and linings. Rabbits were an important
harvest at Stonewylde, and despite the boys’ enthusiastic efforts their numbers seemed to remain undiminished.

This was also the time of year for harvesting the flax, which was grown extensively at Stonewylde and spun and woven into linen. Along with wool and leather, this linen provided most of the Villagers’ clothing and bedding and was also used by the resident Hallfolk. By July the flax was over a metre high and the fields of pale-blue flowers were beautiful. It was a labour intensive crop that couldn’t be harvested in the usual way by cutting, which would damage the fibres. Instead, wearing strong leather gloves, the workers pulled it from the ground by hand. Every Villager young and fit enough was taken from their normal duties for the back-breaking task of pulling the flax. After the flax harvest and retting, all women and girls in the Village were kept busy at home spinning thread for dyeing and weaving into cloth. Most families had their own loom, and men and women shared the weaving when the autumn nights started to draw in.

The fields given over to cereal were rippling with wheat, corn, barley and oats. The oil seed rape had been harvested and the sunflowers turned their glorious heads to track the blazing sun each day. The hemp had been gathered in and the fibres would be twisted and laid in a rope walk, set up in the Great Barn during the winter months. The smaller, more specialised crops such as woad and madder for dye were all ready for harvest, as were the unusual poppies which contributed to the exotic ingredients in the ceremony cakes. Women gathered in their medicinal herbs too, making tinctures and elixirs in their kitchens.

The harvesting was co-ordinated by a band of trusted Villagers who organised the farming system at Stonewylde. Magus left the smooth running of the estate entirely to these farm managers and at this time of year they worked from dawn to dusk and often beyond. Magus had long since seen the economic sense in abandoning the old horse-drawn methods of farming, and tractors, combine harvesters and any other essential machinery were always used.

Because nothing that could be grown in the fields of Stonewylde
was imported, it was vital that farming was productive and efficient. But even with mechanisation and the need for high yields, there was no exploitation of the Earth Mother. There was no bleeding the land dry of all goodness and then pumping it back artificially with infusions of chemicals. Stonewylde used traditional organic methods, and the ultimate testimony to its success was the good health and fitness of all the people who lived there.

Clip had left Stonewylde to stay with an alternative community in Ireland, where he was always in demand as a storyteller. The visitors who’d come for the Midsummer Holiday had now gone, and from being crammed full and bursting at the seams, the Hall was suddenly very quiet. With both Magus and Clip absent and many of the resident Hallfolk away on holiday in the Outside World, the atmosphere at Stonewylde was relaxed, despite the extra work in the fields.

Yul felt free with Magus away. He worked harder than ever before, spending hours every evening pulling flax after a long day in the woods, and ate Maizie out of house and home. Rosie was working all hours at the dairy as milk production was at its peak. Much of the excess milk was made into great wheels of cheese which were part of the feasts at both Lammas and the Autumn Equinox festivals. Stonewylde cheese was particularly tasty, and the dairy produced several different types. Geoffrey and Gregory, although still at school, were busy rabbiting and helping with the flax harvest. Maizie was up to her elbows in preserves and wine-making, and trying to keep the two younger boys, Gefrin and Sweyn, under control. Without their father’s subduing presence they were running wild and constantly into mischief. Their favourite occupation was tormenting their little sister Leveret, and Maizie had to be extra vigilant and make sure her youngest child was safe from their spiteful pranks.

Alwyn still languished in the hospital wing with no power of speech or movement. Unable to eat solid food, he’d lost much of his bulk and taken on a wasted look. Maizie went to see him weekly but it was a duty visit and she spent less and less time
there. She always returned very quiet, feeling guilty for enjoying her life so much more with her husband out of the way.

Yul visited the hospital wing just once, and spent only a little time with the man who’d abused him for as long as he could remember. He went one evening before starting work in the fields, and approached the Hall with trepidation despite knowing that Magus was away. He went round to the kitchen wing where he’d worked so hard during the Midsummer festival. He knew Marigold would welcome him, although she’d barely had time to speak to him when the visitors had been around.

‘Come and have a little bite to eat first, Yul my love,’ she said warmly, sitting him down at the over-sized scrubbed table where the servants ate.

‘I’ve already eaten,’ he protested, smiling at her insistent kindness. She cut him a generous slice of gooseberry pie and smothered it with cream.

‘Aye, well you’re not greedy like that father o’ yours, but a working lad like you needs to keep his strength up.’

‘It’s him I’ve come to see,’ he explained. ‘I won’t be a regular visitor but I wanted to see him just once.’

She shook her head and folded her arms.

‘That bully being taken ill was the best thing for your poor family,’ she said. ‘I should think your mother’s glad to see the back of him, nasty brute.’

Yul was surprised at this. Maizie had told him how Alwyn had been a constant visitor to these kitchens during his son’s time at the quarry, piling on the fat as he was overfed daily by Marigold’s generosity. She laughed at the look on his face.

‘Aye, I know what you’re thinking. We all knew what he’d done to you, Yul, and what he’d been doing to you for years. I saw him that week Magus had you locked up by the stables. Starving you was a terrible thing to do, and making you watch your father eat when you were so hungry … Magus should never’ve done it. ‘Twas downright cruelty. And that Alwyn! Nasty piece o’ work, greedy as a pig after weaning. I said to myself – if that man wants food, I’ll give him food. I’ll feed him till he
bursts! He’d sit in my kitchen like a great porker at the trough. But I reckoned if I stuffed him up enough he’d get heavier and slower and maybe find it harder to beat you. Looks like it worked, eh? They don’t come much slower than Alwyn is now!’

Yul laughed at this, pleased to know he had another ally. Marigold’s plump face dimpled with mirth, but then her smile faded.

‘There’s one thing I want to ask you, boy. I heard some gossip the other day, something one of the men up at the Gatehouse let slip in the pub. Now ‘tis all round the Village, though he’s denying he ever said it of course. Rabbit-scared he is! But you’ll know the answer, Yul, seeing as you was up there yourself. Is it true that Jackdaw’s back, working up at Quarrycleave?’

She stared at him intently and Yul swallowed. Magus had been insistent that Yul was to tell no one about Jackdaw’s return to Stonewylde. He understood why Marigold was so concerned; Jackdaw had been married to her daughter. It was only his immediate banishment that had stopped Marigold organising a lynch-mob after he murdered his young wife. Marigold nodded slowly, her face darkening.

‘No need to answer, Yul. ‘Tis plain you been told to keep quiet and Goddess knows you’ve enough reason not to anger the master again. I understand, my boy.’ She brushed imaginary crumbs from the table briskly, her eyes welling with tears. ‘Well, if that Jackdaw ever steps foot in the Village he won’t last long. What is Magus thinking of, bringing him back here? I never thought I’d see this day! My poor girl Lily – what she suffered at the hands of that man don’t bear thinking about. Death was a release for her, I can tell you. And their little boy, Jay. Why didn’t Magus let me take care of him afterwards? I’ll never forgive him for that. My own daughter’s son, my grandson. I should’ve been given the care of him, poor little mite. But oh no, Magus sends him to his other grandmother, that sow Vetchling. No more fit to bring up a child than hatch an egg! I’ll never understand the reason for that as long as I live. I …’

Yul was spared any more of her diatribe by the arrival of
Harold. The young servant grinned at Yul and rolled his eyes. He was pleased to see Yul again as they’d always got on well and Yul had certainly made his life easier during the Midsummer Holiday.

‘Could Harold take me to the hospital wing?’ asked Yul, for the flax was still waiting to be pulled. ‘I’ll never find my way alone.’

‘Aye, you do that, young Harold. And come and see me again soon, Yul,’ said Marigold, taking his empty bowl and ruffling his hair. She smiled as he stood up, towering over her.

‘Sacred Mother, but you’ve grown lately! Send my blessings to Maizie and tell her next time she’s up visiting Alwyn to pop in to the kitchens for a chat. Always did like your mother.’

Harold led Yul out of the kitchens and both boys burst out laughing.

‘Goddess, she can talk, that one!’ said Harold.

‘She’s kind though,’ said Yul.

‘Not always, believe me! She can flick a cloth so it catches you so hard on the arse it leaves a mark through your trousers! So how’s life treating you now?’

‘Life’s good. Busy, of course, but it’s that time of year. I haven’t seen you pulling the flax yet, Harold. Field work too hard for you now you’ve gone all soft up at the Hall?’

The boy shook his head.

‘Come on, Yul, you know what it were like here over the holiday. I was worked to the bone. I think I deserve a break. Anyway, with all the Hallfolk away again I’ve been doing something … special. Something Magus wouldn’t like if he found out.’

He glanced furtively around as they climbed a short flight of back stairs and went along a corridor. Yul looked at him in surprise. He’d always imagined the servants at the Hall to be, like Martin, intensely loyal and obedient.

‘What have you been doing?’ he asked, intrigued by Harold’s secrecy. The boy was bubbling with excitement.

‘It’s amazing! I can’t believe I’m doing it. I been dying to tell someone! You know all them computers they have here? Maybe you don’t. They’re these machines, like televisions but different.
And there’s this thing called the Internet and I been doing it!’

Yul looked unimpressed.

‘Why? Doing what exactly?’

‘Oh Yul, you don’t understand! I play games and visit websites and ’tis a whole different world! And I’m learning to read! I’ve got some books from their school and I been visiting this old dear in the Village who remembers how to read. I can type things now and read some o’ the stuff on the websites. I practise every day. I use a computer in one of the Hallfolk’s bedrooms while he’s away. I’m up there every night!’

Yul eyed him suspiciously.

‘You’re not turning into Hallfolk, are you Harold?’

‘Don’t be daft – why would I want to be one of them? But ‘tis a new world, I can tell you. I could show you the computers sometime. They’re the best thing in Stonewylde. You should learn to read too, Yul. I’ll teach you if you like!’

They’d reached the entrance to the hospital wing and stopped by the door. Yul frowned, remembering Sylvie offering the same thing. Maybe they were right. He was amazed at Harold learning to read and write. It was unheard of at Stonewylde, except amongst the very oldest Villagers, and most of them had long forgotten the basics. At the Village School Yul had always known that Harold was bright and should have passed the tests and come to the Hall School. But he had no Hallfolk blood and Yul reckoned they’d failed him deliberately. He nodded.

‘I’ll think about it, Harold. Thanks for bringing me up here.’

He opened the door to the hospital wing and was struck by the different smell. A nurse took him into a small room where something sat in a great wheelchair facing the window.

‘I’ll leave you alone with your father,’ she said gently, her blond head cocked in sympathy. ‘You won’t get anything out of him, I’m afraid.’

‘Will he get better?’ asked Yul, his voice trembling slightly at the thought of Alwyn sitting only a couple of metres away. The nurse shook her head, her face concerned.

‘You’ll have to speak to the doctor,’ she said. ‘But it seems
very unlikely. They’ve done tests and sent him for a scan at a private hospital in the Outside World. There’s nothing much going on in his head and all we can do now is keep him comfortable. But he’s losing weight rapidly and his muscles are starting to atrophy. You could always ask the Goddess for a miracle.’

I already have
, thought Yul.
And this is it
.

The nurse left the room and quietly shut the door. Yul went round the high wheelchair and gaped at the sight before him. So this now was the hated man. The one who’d frightened Yul all his life, making sure any happiness he ever felt was soon crushed out of him. The one who’d have killed him if he’d been allowed to continue his cruelty. How long did it take to whip a person to death? Yul pondered this as he stared at the shrunken, sallow effigy before him. He shuddered, recalling the awful violence in the byre. Maybe not the whip; it could’ve been blows that killed him. Alwyn had been just as fond of that form of punishment. Punches and kicks to the kidneys, the head and spleen; maybe that would’ve been his end.