Shaman of Stonewylde (18 page)

Edward clamped his mouth shut and his ears burned red. Yul exhaled sharply and looked at the agenda in front of him. It was interminable today and he couldn’t bear much more.

‘We’re a council, Yul, a committee,’ said Sylvie evenly. ‘We need to make major decisions by majority vote. Edward was only following procedure. Sinking bore holes isn’t something we do lightly and he was right to bring it up here, for open discussion.’

‘Aye, I only thought—’

‘You thought absolutely right, Edward,’ she said firmly. ‘So, are we all agreed on Yul’s recommendations? Calculate the minimum crop yield required and irrigate accordingly? Good! And the next item—’

‘The next item is
Stonewylde.com
,’ said Yul irritably, furious
with
Sylvie for her efficient put-down. ‘Harold will now report on this.’

‘ ’Tis a bloody disaster!’ said Martin. ‘Several months down the line and I still can’t find my files. I never wanted the stupid computer in the first place and if it’s not back to working order soon, I tell you all now, I’m not using it again!’

He glared round the circle, his thin face pinched with anger, his slate-grey eyes brooking no argument.

‘It would be good to have access to all the medical records soon,’ agreed Hazel. ‘I’m managing without them, but it’s not good practice.’

‘Same for the schools,’ said Miranda. ‘We’re struggling. What news, Harold?’

The poor young man, who’d lost weight since the system failure at Imbolc and was even more jerky and nervous than ever, cleared his throat.

‘Well, it seems—’

‘And when I think o’ the work I did on organising all the information we need to get a price for a new boiler in the Hall,’ interrupted Martin, ‘it makes my blood boil!’

‘I’m sorry, but I’m afraid all the data is gone,’ stuttered Harold.

‘What do you mean,
gone
?’ barked Martin. ‘Surely you can find the old files, now we paid a fortune for that computer solutions man to fix it all?’

Harold shook his head miserably and felt as if he were collapsing under a hail of stones. He was the victim of his own success in persuading people to use the network for everything.

‘And what about the quotas?’ asked Maizie. ‘The Village folk asked me last Dark Moon if they still need to do them quotas or what. What’s happening, Harold?’

He twitched and threw a beseeching look at Yul, who stared stonily ahead.

‘I’m sorry to say . . .
Stonewylde.com
has been forced to cease trading,’ Harold said. ‘Permanently.’

‘So we’re not getting any revenue from it at all now?’ asked Miranda. ‘I thought that things were pretty desperate. Why—’

‘They are,’ whispered Harold. ‘All the reserves we’d built up have gone.’

‘But I don’t understand,’ said Dawn. ‘Why has
Stonewylde.com
ceased trading? I thought it was all doing so well. I know we lost the customer database, but surely—’

‘I heard it were on account o’ some nasty photos,’ said Tom. ‘I never did like photos. That Rainbow, she were clicking away at Beltane, and—’

‘Shall I tell them, Harold?’ said Yul in a clipped voice, not pausing for an answer. ‘Basically, after Imbolc and the crash,
Stonewylde.com
apparently sent out a marketing e-mail to every customer on the database asking if they’d like to buy the new Stonewylde calendar at a reduced rate, as it was already February. These beautiful calendars, at a bargain price, featured animals from Stonewylde in idyllic country settings. But, when the customers clicked the link to actually see these calendars . . . let’s just say, it was definitely a case of “four legs bad”.’

‘That’s not funny, Yul!’ said Sylvie. ‘The photos on the link were obscene and illegal, and many of the recipients complained to the police. They’d trusted Stonewylde and now our name is dirt. We can never sell our products again, or at least, not under the Stonewylde brand name.’

There was shocked silence, broken only by Martin’s angry breathing.

‘Whole place is falling to rack and ruin, as I always said it would!’ he muttered.

‘On a lighter note, I’d like to thank everyone for the wonderful handfasting last month,’ said Dawn, brightly. ‘We had the most perfect day and we do appreciate everything everyone did, especially as David was an Outsider.’

‘Still is!’

‘We’ll ignore that remark, Martin,’ said Miranda, ‘and concentrate instead on what we can do to put things right again here.’

She flicked a glance at Clip, who’d said very little so far
today
. His face was grey and she wondered if he were ill.

‘There’s only one thing as can put all to rights at Stonewylde,’ Martin said, ‘and that’s—’

‘I think maybe I should tell everyone now!’ burst in Harold unexpectedly. Blushing and fidgeting, he looked down at his notes. ‘I been pondering a long while about when best to mention this, and I’m not sure . . .’

‘What?’ snapped Yul. ‘Just spit it out, Harold, so we can bring this tedious meeting to an end!’

‘I don’t know . . . I weren’t sure whether to say about it to just you privately, Yul, or what . . .’

‘We’ve already mentioned the need to discuss things as a committee,’ said Sylvie gently. ‘So you’re right to raise any issues now, Harold, with everyone here. You must remember that Yul isn’t actually in charge of Stonewylde – we all are.’

‘Well, ’tis about an e-mail I got a while back, before the system were infected with the virus. And since then I’ve had more e-mails, once I’d got a new address up and running, and I’ve had a letter and even a phone call . . .’

‘The suspense is killing us!’ said Miranda, as fed up as Yul about the length of the meeting. She had students taking exams and couldn’t waste time on banalities. ‘What? What about an e-mail? Is this something that’ll help get Stonewylde out of the current financial crisis?’

All eyes were on Harold as he flushed scarlet and jerked his wrists.

‘Yes!’ he said. ‘Yes, it will! Or it could, if we agree to it.’

‘If ’tis another o’ your daft schemes about selling off our spring water or our deer—’

‘I’ve been talking with someone who wants to help us. Someone who loves Stonewylde as much as we do and—’

‘Harold!’ Yul’s voice was like a whip-crack. ‘Who have you been talking to? It had better not be—’

‘ ’Tis Buzz!’

There were several gasps but other than that, complete silence. Yul’s face had turned scarlet but now all the blood drained from
it
. He was dangerously white, his lips thin and pale, and his eyes flashing fire.

‘You traitor!’ he hissed. ‘How
could
you, Harold? I trusted you!’

‘No, no!’ protested Harold, ‘I done nothing, Yul!
He
contacted
me
– and I haven’t done nothing at all, only read of his ideas and proposals. And honest, he’s got such good ideas about how we can—’

‘How
dare
you discuss Stonewylde with Buzz!’ shouted Yul, quivering with fury. ‘The one person in the world who will never,
ever
—’

‘The one person who rightfully should be here leading Stonewylde!’ said Martin. ‘About time he came back where he belongs.’

Yul jerked in his seat and looked as if he might leap across the circle and punch Martin, but Clip stood up and held out his arms in a soothing, placatory gesture.

‘Alright, alright,’ he said softly. ‘Enough of this. Martin – you’re being deliberately inflammatory and if you continue, you will have to leave the meeting.’

‘No, I only—’

‘Enough, Martin!’ Clip’s voice was like steel and he fixed the other man, so like him in appearance, with an unbending gaze. Martin lowered his eyes and muttered, but fell silent as Clip continued to stare at him. ‘We’ll discuss this in a calm, rational manner. Harold, we appreciate you’re not to blame – if that’s the right word – for being in contact with Buzz. You’ve clearly been targeted as someone who may have influence and who’s in touch with the financial situation here.’

‘Yes, and if Harold has been blabbing—’

‘No, Yul, Harold’s loyalty is not in question. Now, Harold, tell us what Buzz has proposed.’

‘Well, I think he wants—’

‘NO!’ shouted Yul, shockingly loud. His deep voice echoed around the stone walls of the Galleried Hall and carried up to the vaulted ceiling where the Green Men gaped. He scanned the ring of stunned faces and, for a second, had a vivid flashback to
a
scene so long ago in this same place: countless faces staring at him, shocked and frightened, as he confronted Magus. His beloved Sylvie, tightly laced into an amethyst dress with diamonds at her wrists and tears in her eyes, and Magus’ cruel, pale face twisted in hatred, deliberately tormenting him . . .

‘Buzz can never come back here and must never be part of Stonewylde,’ said Yul, his voice low and shaking with emotion. ‘I vowed once to kill him and that still stands. I will not – could not – live in the same place as him and not fulfil my vow. So, if you decide as a “committee” to bring Buzz back here, then I shall be forced to leave Stonewylde for good.’

‘Oh Yul, there’s no need for such talk!’ said Maizie in consternation. ‘Surely after all this—’

‘Mother, you of all people should understand why I could never tolerate Buzz returning,’ he said. ‘You must recall what he did to me as a child, what he did to our Rosie, and then what he did to Sylvie. How can I ever allow a person like that to contaminate Stonewylde? My father banished him and, in this instance, he acted rightly.’

‘I think Buzz should come back and help put us right.’

Everyone in the room turned incredulously to stare at Rowan. She very rarely spoke at any meeting and never said anything controversial. Her creamy skin was flushed, and her chest rose and fell sharply.

‘Rowan, surely you don’t want— ‘began Dawn, but Rowan interrupted, her mouth trembling and words tumbling out in a rush.

‘Buzz is our Magus’ eldest son and ’tis his rightful place, leading us. He were born and bred to do it, unlike some, and ’twere never right that he were banished and not allowed back. When our Magus were murdered, Buzz should’ve come back then to take over the running of Stonewylde.’

‘Well said!’ agreed Martin. ‘ ’Tis exactly what I think, and many o’ the folk too.’

‘Rubbish!’ said Cherry hotly. ‘Nobody would want that nasty piece o’ work back here.’

‘No, they wouldn’t!’ agreed Tom. ‘Goddess knows what Buzz’s turned out like, but if he’s anything like the cocky bugger he used to be . . .’

‘He must never come back,’ said Sylvie quietly. ‘Yul’s absolutely right and I support him entirely. I for one would never want to be at Stonewylde if Buzz were here—’

‘Now we see your true colours!’ spat Martin. ‘Is this about winning and losing, or is it about saving Stonewylde from ruin? Because if anyone here really cared about Stonewylde, they’d welcome Buzz and his money with open arms!’

‘Not at all,’ said Clip firmly. ‘There are other ways of saving Stonewylde from ruin, Martin – and besides, it hasn’t yet reached that point. We do need money, but we’re not on the brink of financial collapse. I suggest we close this meeting now, as tempers are running high, and all think of how to generate an income for Stonewylde. That will be top of our agenda next month. Harold, I suggest you e-mail Buzz and thank him for his kind offer of help, but tell him we have other courses of action to provide for our financial needs and don’t need his assistance.’

He grimaced sharply and sat down again in the great carved chair. Sylvie thought how wonderful a man Clip was, to be able to diffuse such a volatile situation. But it was old Greenbough, as gnarled now as the trees he’d tended all his life, who had the final word.

‘See? I said that maid were just the scout, and now she’s bringing ’em all in. You mark my words – there’ll be more coming afore long. Stonewylde will be crawling with Hallfolk all over again if we don’t be on our guard against ‘un.’

The Council of Elders had dispersed, everyone returning to their work for what was left of the afternoon. Sylvie had no career counselling appointments today, so had dropped in to see Hazel. The doctor was concerned about Sylvie’s pallor and wanted to give her a check-up, but Sylvie had dismissed her fears and assured her she was feeling a little better. She decided not to mention Leveret’s natural remedies, not wishing Hazel to feel
sidelined
in any way. After some discussion they’d agreed to wait until the autumn, when Sylvie was due for her annual medical and to have her implant replaced. Hazel had also voiced her concerns about Clip, and Sylvie had promised to try to persuade him to have some tests.

Sylvie crossed the great entrance hall, stepping around the teenagers on work detail who were half-heartedly dusting the oak panelling and replacing the roses in the huge vases. She wanted to get back to the Village, or at least get onto the track leading down there, before the younger students who still lived at home left the Hall School. She was never sure whether to walk with any of their groups or not and it always felt a little awkward. Only a couple of days ago the same thing had happened and she’d ended up tagging along with a group which included Faun.

Faun had been almost rude to her in front of the others in the group, and Sylvie found herself disliking the girl, who was loudly opinionated and ridiculously self-absorbed. Sylvie hoped her own daughters wouldn’t end up like that, although it was clear that Faun had been spoiled by her adoring mother and grandparents, and now had an inflated idea of her own worth.

Rushing across the hall to get ahead of the youngsters before they set off, she was surprised when Yul appeared, as if he’d been waiting for her.

‘May I walk back down to the Village with you?’ he asked. ‘I’d like to see the girls and I’d like to talk to you in private rather than a public arena.’

‘Er, yes, of course. The girls love it when you come down to the cottage.’

‘And you don’t?’

‘Oh Yul! That’s not what I meant.’

They passed through the entrance porch where the riveted oak door stood open, and stepped outside into the hot June afternoon. It was blindingly bright after the cavernous gloom indoors, the sky a bleached-out blue and the gravel circle and surrounding grass vivid in the sunlight. The smell of new-mown
hay
was strong, mingling with velvet scent from the heavy-headed roses that arched over the porch and scrambled up the stone wall. Their feet crunched on the gravel as they crossed the turning circle and headed off through the stone pillars and onto the long, tree-lined drive.