a little embarrassing. Things had been done properly in Magus’ time – everything ran like clockwork, everyone knew their place and they were content with it. There was none of this grumbling and moaning that he encountered now in the Village, none of the rudeness and disrespect amongst the young. Magus would never have stood for it; a public whipping or two to make an example and everyone would’ve knuckled down again and been grateful for what they had. But times had changed and they’d changed for the worse, with only more problems to look forward to if things continued as they were.
He heard something from upstairs and silently climbed the rest of the steps up to the landing. The noise was coming from Yul and Sylvie’s rooms – Magus’ apartments as he still thought of them. They were arguing again. There’d been a lot of that in recent months and tonight’s row sounded like a heated one. Martin knew what was going on; they made so much noise it was impossible not to. Yul was too weak. The magus shouldn’t stand for that sort of behaviour in his wife. Martin smiled slightly at the very thought of Magus letting any woman argue back or try to run things her way. He would never, ever have permitted it! Martin wouldn’t either – neither his first late wife nor his younger second wife, Swift’s mother, would’ve dared to speak to him the way Sylvie spoke to Yul, as if she were his equal. The magus was the leader of Stonewylde – always had been, always should be, but not anymore. Things were falling apart and it was time to call a halt to it. Stonewylde deserved better than this.
Martin winced as he heard Sylvie’s voice rising. How could Yul permit such lack of respect? He shook his head and moved away without a sound, unable to bear any further eavesdropping. They deserved each other, the pair of them. They deserved everything that was coming to them too. It’d be a while before the rowdy youngsters returned and Martin must make the most of this peace and quiet, this lull before the storm. He silently padded back downstairs towards his office. Others might be out there enjoying themselves or arguing with recalcitrant wives but Martin was dedicated and loyal. Stonewylde was his life. There was very important work to be done and it must happen tonight, if everything were to be set in motion. Martin rubbed the scar on his temple and smiled.
*
Sylvie glared at Yul. He stood with his back to the fire silhouetted against the flickering flames that licked the logs in the hearth. The large sitting room was shadowy, for they’d only switched on a small table lamp before their conversation had grown heated. The girls were in the crèche at the Nursery along with all the other young children, worn out from the long day. Sylvie wished that she were asleep too. She had a pounding headache as the stress of this disastrous Imbolc finally caught up with her.
They should by rights still be down in the Barn as the party was far from over, but neither of them could face any more. Yul was in such a black mood he knew he might do something he’d regret if he stayed. Sylvie was simply exhausted and the thought of any more time spent jigging around the heated and noisy Barn trying to pretend all was well was simply too much. They’d both left early and walked back home accompanied, to their dismay, by Magpie and Marigold. They’d had to keep up a pretence of normality, making conversation and concealing their irritation as Marigold chattered on endlessly about what a good boy Magpie was. But now finally they were alone.
‘It was deliberate, Sylvie! She’d been eating mushrooms. When I took her home I saw them lying there on her bedside table – she didn’t even have the wits to hide them!’
‘Why would they be lying there if she’d taken them? It doesn’t make sense.’
‘She’s obviously got a supply. We know she’s been messing about with the things – she looked drugged up at Samhain and we had that incident at Quarrycleave too. Leveret’s been experimenting with mushrooms for a while now.’
‘I just don’t believe she’d do that, not at Imbolc. Not when she had such a key role to play.’
‘Well she damn well did! Anyway, why are you defending her when she’s clearly in the wrong? What’s she ever