CHAPTER TWO

The woodsmen gathered together brushwood and logs and loaded it onto carts to be driven up to the Stone Circle. A huge bonfire was being built at one end, tightly packed to burn long and bright on the day of the Equinox. The woodsmen always built the festival fires and took pride in the job. Yul was a valuable member of the group; agile and light compared to the strong men. Once the bonfire had been constructed to Greenbough’s precise standards, Yul would climb up to pack any gaps with smaller branches carried in a bag on his back. He was learning about the various types of wood and how they burned differently. He knew which mosses, lichens and fungi burned with strange colours and which gave off aromatic smoke. These were used to effect in the ceremonies and Yul was taught by master fire-builders.
At Stonewylde the entire community prepared for the Spring Equinox festival. The customs dated back far beyond any recorded memory, passed on through the centuries by tradition and folklore. The hare was the symbol of the festival, the totem animal of the ancient spring fertility goddess of the earth, Eostre. Eggs were blown and painted as another emblem of new life, and children decorated the Great Barn with their handiwork. The women prepared the special foods, especially the cinnamon buns decorated with a cross, symbolising the year divided into four seasons. The Equinox was one of the four fire festivals of the year. The community celebrated the balance of light and darkness, the returning warmth of the sun and the start of the growing season.
Up in the Circle a few woodsmen put the finishing touches to the bonfire. Other groups of people were there, also preparing for the celebrations. The great standing stones had been scrubbed of the faded Imbolc decorations left over from the beginning of February. A group of artists, both Hallfolk and Villager, now painted the Spring Equinox symbols onto the freshly cleaned stones. They used beautiful colours prepared from natural pigments and dyes. A pattern of spring flowers was painted near the tops of the ancient stones – celandine and violet, wood anemone and primrose. The goddess Eostre was represented holding an egg in each hand and wearing a great headdress of flowers and stars. But the dominant image was that of the hare. All around the Circle hares were painted onto the stones in every possible stance – boxing, crouching, washing and leaping. Amber eyes and long black-tipped ears formed a great carousel of hares. The artists were finishing the finer details, hoping the sudden showers would hold off until their work was done and the special paint dry.
Yul stopped to gaze at them, watching one girl in particular. Her pale Hallfolk hair was cut in a bob and she had a pretty cat’s face. Like him, Holly was a Winter Solstice child and he wondered as he’d done before if they’d be partners at their Rite of Adulthood. She’d seemed keen on him at the Imbolc celebrations. They’d known each other for years as all Hallfolk children attended the Village school until they were eight. Since then the segregation had deepened and although in the same community, they were now worlds apart. But differences were forgotten at the festivals and the Rite in particular was a great leveller. Today, however, Holly ignored him and bestowed her attention on a young man from the Hall. Yul scowled at his back, amused at his inability to balance on the ladder propped against a stone. Fennel was working on the image of Eostre painted on the largest monolith right behind the Altar Stone, adding silver stars to the halo of flowers around her head. Several times he wobbled and Yul considered what mischief he could get away with. But he knew he couldn’t afford to invite any more attention from Magus.
Yul climbed to the very peak of the bonfire. From this vantage point he looked over the stones and across the woodlands that clustered around the clearing on the flat hilltop. He saw the blue smoothness of the sea to the south and the soft folds of the hills to the north. He gulped in the fresh air as the salty wind stirred his hair and caressed his face. Holly stared up at him, impressed by his agility. He grinned down at her, white teeth flashing in his dark face, and she smiled back. He shinned down the pyramid of great branches, but when he was only half way down he turned outwards to face her. He leapt to the earth, risking a broken leg or worse. As Yul flew through the air he caught a glimpse of her face, open-mouthed at his dare-devil antics. He yelled out in delight, landing gracefully in a crouched position at her feet. He shook the dark curls from his eyes and grinned up at her.
“You’re mad, Yul,” she giggled
“As a March hare,” he agreed.
“You could’ve broken your neck.”
“But I didn’t, and just as well. For then we wouldn’t be able to dance together at the celebrations.”
“Oh I see, you’ve got it all planned, have you? And I thought I’d be dancing with Fennel. Or even Buzz.”
Yul snorted at this.
“Why on earth would you do that when you could have me?”
He stood up and was pleased to see he was much taller than her now. Growing up as children they’d always been similar heights. He puffed out his chest with satisfaction and surveyed the Stone Circle, his gaze sweeping the people working hard to make the sacred space ready and perfect. Then he noticed Magus leaning against a stone on the opposite side, watching him. Magus raised a hand and beckoned slowly.
“See you, Holly,” he muttered.
“Maybe,” she said lightly. She noted as he walked away how his shoulders had become broader and his legs longer. She smiled to herself; Yul was shaping up nicely.
Yul lowered his eyes carefully as he approached. He wasn’t so much worried about upsetting Magus as scared of what his father would do if he were to get into any more trouble. Most of the bruising from the last incident had faded and his rib had stopped hurting. The slash across his cheek that Magus had given him was now a pink weal, but other than that he was at present uninjured and wanted to say that way with the festival so close. He stopped at a respectful distance and stood with his head bowed.
“I see your manners have improved since our last encounter,” said Magus softly, still leaning against the tall standing stone.
“Yes, sir.”
“And Tom tells me you worked hard in my stables every night.”
“Yes, sir.”
“So let’s hope you’ve learned your lesson.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Mmn.”
Magus surveyed the lowered head before him, not in the least taken in by this ostensible show of deference. He could also see the set of the boy’s shoulders and the way his nostrils flared.
“So what’s the meaning of the acrobatics just now? This is a sacred place.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“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 grey eyes, quickly masked. He gave a small smile.
“Would your father approve of you showing off? If I were to tell him?”
“No sir. It won’t happen again, sir.”
“No, it certainly won’t. The Stone Circle is the sacred heart of Stonewylde, and not the place for dirty young boys to 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, making his way down the Long Walk where Villagers were placing lanterns amongst the avenue of stones to light the way for the ceremony. He must keep out of Magus’ sight 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, they 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 large men with walkie talkies 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 unless they belong here. Your arrival is exceptional for we never normally 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 don’t they want to go out sometimes? Go shopping or visit family?”
Magus smiled again at this.
“The whole concept of shopping is alien to the folk of Stonewylde. We grow our own food. We make our clothes and tools, build our houses and furniture, create our art and entertainment. Our family is all within the community. Why should we want to leave?”
“It’s going to 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. I expect eventually you’ll feel the same way.”
He flicked a glance in the rear view mirror and saw Sylvie nestle deeper into the soft leather, a small smile on her face as she surveyed the high walls and tight security. Here she’d find sanctuary. It had been grey and raining as they left London, but the sky was now blue and pasted with feathery clouds that raced across the brightness. Tiny lambs skipped around the sheep, dotted all around throughout the hills. She saw acres and acres of woodlands stretching away, still brown in winter guise. The hedgerows were starry-white with blackthorn and the banks smothered in early primroses and celandine. Over a field a pair of great golden-brown birds circled and drifted on the air currents, the end feathers of their wings splayed like fingers. Magus pressed a button and Sylvie’s window slid open. She was wafted with a burst of pure country air and her face broke into a grin of delight. 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 confetti petals. Inside they looked around in wonder. The furniture was crafted from natural materials, the polished floor boards 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 can 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. In a few days’ time you’ll come up for your meals and join us in the Dining Hall. But keep some food here as well, and for the settling in period Cherry will call daily to look after you. If there’s anything you need, anything at all, don’t be afraid to ask. As part of the 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. As Sylvie’s health improves she’ll make friends with the other young people there. You’ll find we have a thriving social life at Stonewylde, but it will 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 up to it yet. You haven’t said when you want me to start teaching. I could …”
“Not yet. Our priority is to get Sylvie back to good health. Treat these first weeks as an extended holiday and enjoy the countryside and spring weather. Some of the students you’ll teach are away in Europe anyway, and won’t be back until Beltane.”
“Beltane?”
“Sorry,” he smiled, “I forget how different it is here. We celebrate Beltane at the beginning of May. Lots of rural places do, but some call it May Day.”
“Maypole dancing, with a May Queen and Morris dancers you mean?” asked Sylvie in delight. “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 like a broody chicken and soon took control. They were unpacked and settled in before they knew it. She examined the terrible eczema on Sylvie’s skin and held up one of her thin arms in bemusement. Miranda’s description as to why Sylvie had become so ill in the first place confirmed all her suspicions about the Outside World.
“Aye, I’ve 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 couple o’ seconds. Whoever heard of such nonsense! I thank the stars we don’t have none o’ that here. We cook on a range and eat wholesome food the way nature intended. We’ll soon get some flesh on your poor bones, little maid. And have that nasty sore skin cleared up in no time.”
On the Equinox Eve Cherry excused herself, leaving them food and firewood for the following day. 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 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.”
That evening they heard some of the ceremony, as the drumming carried through the twilight. When the community raised their voices in unison the sound could be heard clearly in the cottage. It made the hair on Sylvie’s arms stand on end for it 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, keeping at bay those who might have befriended her. To the bullies she was a gift. She’d led a lonely life. As she heard the people of Stonewylde chanting together, she wanted more than anything to be brought in out of the cold and join the circle.
“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 just turn up unannounced. It sounds like some sort of religious ceremony, doesn’t it? Although not exactly what you see on the TV on a Sunday evening!”
“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 not 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 watched Buzz strutting about with Fennel by the cider table in his new ceremonial robes. He felt his heart beating slow and hard. Only minutes earlier he’d been dancing with Holly, admiring her bright eyes and animated face as they tore around the Great Barn together. 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, all 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 robes and necklets and boasting of their initiation. Yul eyed them enviously; he longed for proper robes decorated with his own totem. Holly’s head had swivelled round and then she’d dragged him off the dance floor.
“Thanks for the dance,” she said breathlessly. “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 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. Buzz is taking his GCSEs this year and he’s very clever. They all are. 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.”
She turned and threaded her way through the noisy crowd. Yul’s hands shook as he watched her go. He lost sight of her for a minute and when he saw her again she was surrounded by the group. She threw her head back and tossed her hair. The Hallfolk boys closed round her, all vying for her attention. He saw Buzz, the leader of the group, look across at him and then laugh loudly. His heart thumped in his chest as the anger rose. He turned and pushed his way through the throngs of people towards the open doors. He was sure the whole group were watching him and laughing. 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 air he took gulps of breath, 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. More than anything he hated Buzz and his gang of Hallfolk friends. 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 but instead 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, the Spring Equinox 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 a bitch on heat. He kicked viciously at stones as he marched along the track. But then he heard tuneless whistling ahead and 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 to do whatever he wanted to Yul. He stayed crouched behind the bush waiting as his father passed by. He was a beefy man with arms like hams and fists the size of overgrown swedes. The good thing about this was that he was slow and Yul could sometimes get away from him or at least dodge some of the blows. But there were times when this just made it worse as 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.
“Oy! 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 him again. If Buzz was an adult it was by a matter of an hour or so – he’d only just had his Rite. 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 celebration.”
“No, I want to sort this little runt out. You told me what he said about me and he’s not getting away with it. He needs a lesson in showing respect to his elders and betters. You stop right there, Yul!”
He caught up with Yul and grabbed hold of his arm. Buzz was taller than him and far more heavily built. 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. There’d been a time in his earlier adolescence when Buzz’s favourite pastime had been hunting down Yul for a fight.
“I’ve got a bone to pick with you, boy.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes, 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 having two boys arguing over her.
“Are you complaining, Holly?” Yul asked, his voice slow and cold.
“I …”
“Don’t you dare start questioning her! Or questioning my authority! You …”
“I won’t take your authority, Buzzard. You’ve only just become an adult. Why should I do what you say?”
“Because I’ll beat the crap out of you if you don’t! Just like I used to.”
Yul laughed tauntingly at this, darts of anger shooting about inside his chest.
“I don’t think so. Not any more.”
Buzz yanked at Yul’s arm, raising his other hand into a fist. But Yul was accustomed to dodging fists and Buzz was small fry compared to his father. With a sudden twist he wrenched himself away and started to run. The others followed, yelling taunts and threats. As he ran, Yul realised he couldn’t go back home. None of the cottages in Stonewylde had locks and they’d just follow him inside. So he raced on past his home and headed out of the Village. He heard Holly and the other girls shouting from some way back, calling for the boys to return with them to the Great Barn. Yul guessed that all five of the Hallfolk boys were chasing him, for there was a lot of gasping for breath and shouting. They were young and reasonably fit but Yul knew he was fitter. Unlike them, his life was spent doing physical work. He soon gained a lead and slipped through a gap in the hedge into a field. He flew across the damp grass, his feet hardly touching the ground, thankful now that he wasn’t wearing long robes like them. The boys, further behind now, continued to yell insults and commanded him to stop.
Yul had no intention of stopping. He’d have fought one of them, or maybe even two. But five was impossible and he didn’t want to get beaten up, especially in front of Holly. He crossed the field and turned back into the lane further up the hill. He was heading for the woods which he knew so well. But one of them must have stayed in the lane instead of chasing him through the field, for he felt an arm shoot out of nowhere to grab him. He pulled away and sped on, finally turning into the shelter of the woods.
“Quick! He’s just out of the lane! I nearly had him then!”
It was Fennel, and Yul turned his head to yell an insult. But that was a mistake, for he failed to see the tree stump ahead and went flying. He banged his knee badly and cried out in pain. He tried to get up and started to run again, dragging his leg, but the others were upon him. Buzz threw himself at Yul, knocking him hard onto the ground. All the breath was banged out of his body and Buzz sprawled across him, pinning him to the earth. Yul’s chest heaved but with Buzz’s weight full on him he could hardly breathe.
“Got you, you bastard!”
The other four crowded round the prone figures, gasping for air and laughing at the same time.
“Good on you, Buzz! Great tackle.”
“Knocked the little shit over!”
“Are we going to teach him a lesson?”
Buzz pushed himself upright, the heel of his hand forcing Yul hard into the ground as he knelt up. He straddled the boy, sitting astride his back. Yul couldn’t fill his lungs under the weight of the heavy youth and he started to panic, wriggling and kicking frantically.
“Bloody hell, he’s still fighting!”
Buzz put his hand on the back of Yul’s neck and shoved his face down into the wet earth.
“Keep still or you’ll suffocate. You won’t get me off.”
Yul knew this was true and stopped struggling, trying to get a proper breath. Buzz shifted his weight so it settled more firmly onto the boy’s back. Yul grunted as the air was forced out again.
“Just like old times, isn’t it, Yul? I’d forgotten how good it feels to put you in your place.”
The others were laughing and jeering.
“Not so cocky now, is he?”
“Pity the girls aren’t here to see him get his come-uppance. Holly would kill herself laughing.”
“Ah yes … Holly.”
Buzz had recovered from the exertion of the chase and was enjoying himself.
“I believe I was in the middle of advising you to stay away from Holly. What have you got to say to that now, boy?”
Yul tried to answer but his face was still pushed into the ground and he got a mouthful of earth.
“Hah! He’s eating dirt!”
“Very fitting,” crowed Buzz. “Repeat that, peasant! I said, repeat that!”
He thrust Yul’s face harder into the ground and Yul was forced to take another mouthful of dirt. He spluttered and choked, still unable to breathe with the dead weight on his back.
“Tempting though it is, I’m not going to beat you tonight, Yul,” laughed Buzz. “It’d be too easy and I don’t want your filthy blood on my new robes. And you wouldn’t be fit for work if I smashed you to pulp, would you? You’ve got to work to keep us all in comfort and luxury.”
Yul spluttered again and Buzz brayed with laughter.
“Sorry, didn’t quite catch that. Never mind, it was probably ignorant drivel anyway. Just remember this, Yul - I let you off tonight. I could’ve hurt you really badly but I chose not to. You stay away from Holly from now on – or any of the Hallfolk girls, for that matter. They’re way too good for a dirty Villager like you. Remember your rightful place in the community. And next time I give you an order, make sure you jump to obey me.”
With a final shove of Yul’s face into the earth, Buzz got up, jabbing his knee viciously into the boy’s back as he did so. Yul groaned loudly despite himself. Still cracking jokes about him, the Hallfolk boys turned and left. Yul remained where he was on the ground, the tears starting to well. Before he knew it, his body was racked with harsh sobs. He spat out the earth and tried to sit up. His back and ribs were agony and his knee throbbed badly. But he had to get back before the celebrations ended and his father returned home. He started to hobble back the way he’d come. Angry tears streamed down his grimy face forming rivulets in the dirt.
As he let himself into the shadowy cottage, a figure stood up from one of the armchairs. Yul jumped but then realised it was only his sister Rosie.
“What’s happened to you, Yul?” she gasped, peering at him in the soft light from the single lamp.
“Nothing. Never mind.”
He tried to push past her to go upstairs.
“Oh Yul, stop! You’re hurt and you’re covered in dirt. Was it Buzz and his gang? I saw them leave just after you.”
He nodded, hanging his head. His thin cheeks were streaked and his mouth was caked with bits of earth. He felt so ashamed, even in front of Rosie.
“But why?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Rosie. I must get to bed before Father comes back and sees me like this. You know what he’ll do to me, especially with all that cider in him.”
They both eyed the leather strap hanging from its hook on the door, but Rosie shook her head.
“Don’t worry, they won’t be home for ages. I only came back because Geoffrey and Gregory were so tired. They’re in bed now and the little ones are sleeping down in the Nursery. But Mother was still enjoying herself and Father was going strong at the bar when I left. Sit down, Yul. You can’t go to bed like that. I’ll clean you up.”
He sat on one of the hard chairs at the table while she brought a cloth and bowl of hot water from the kettle. Very gently she washed his face and hands. She noticed his swollen, grazed knee and bathed that as well.
“You need to go to the bath house tomorrow, Yul. You’re filthy.”
“I know.”
“So what did they do?”
“Not much really. It could’ve been a lot worse.”
“Why? Because of Holly?”
He nodded miserably.
“She’s not worth it!” spat Rosie.
“I know that now.” He stood up stiffly and ruffled her hair. “Thank you, Rosie.”
She smiled and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
“I’m your sister, aren’t I? I don’t like it when you get hurt. And you’re always getting hurt. ”
He followed her into the kitchen and watched as she made them both a mug of tea.
“I can’t understand it, Yul,” she continued. “You seem to invite trouble. Why do you do it?”
He shrugged and took the mug from her.
“I don’t mean to. Everyone’s on my back all the time.”
“It’s the way you look at people. As if you’re challenging them.” She traced the pink slash on his cheek. “You’ve got enough on your plate coping with Father without upsetting Magus as well. And now Buzz and his gang. You’ve got to be careful, Yul. You shouldn’t stand up to people all the time. Swallow your pride and keep your eyes down. If you do as you’re told and look humble they’ll leave you alone.”
“I can’t, Rosie. I’ve tried but I can’t do that. There’s something in me that gets so angry and I can’t back down, even if it means a beating.”
She shook her head sadly, her eyes full of love for her older brother.
“I don’t know - Mother and I worry about you, Yul. All these people crying for your blood. The way you’re going, we sometimes wonder if you’ll even make it to your sixteenth birthday.”