why they’d formed such a strange attachment to their disgraced aunt and he was sure it wasn’t reciprocated in the least. Leveret had proved far too selfish to feel anything for them. He didn’t want her hurting their feelings and was determined to keep her away from them; she was hardly a good influence in any respect and seemed to constantly upset them with her ridiculous moods and dramatics.
Once Yuletide was over he’d move her into a dormitory with other boarders – why should she have special treatment? Sylvie had said she felt sorry for the tragic teenager and wanted to talk to her about her side of the story, but Yul had been angry at the idea and forbidden her to talk to Leveret. The last thing he needed was his over-emotional and unpredictable sister setting off his unstable wife’s depression. Sylvie had given him one of those looks and he’d felt the resentment seething inside her. He knew she thought he was too dominating but he couldn’t help it; it was just his way and she’d known that all along from the start. She used to joke about it and call him the lord and master – now she seemed to hate it, but it was too late for him to change.
Yul admitted, reluctantly, that he was like his father in this respect. Magus had been dominating too, but how else could the leader of such a large community be? It was no use being weak and indecisive like Clip – surely Sylvie saw that. Everything he did was for her, with her comfort or happiness in mind. He didn’t want her getting involved with his wayward sister because it would only cause her heartache in the end. Sylvie was so kind, so gentle and soft-hearted, and she’d only get hurt. Leveret had turned out badly and she was his problem, not his wife’s. He needed to put his sister straight by whatever means he thought fit and it wasn’t Sylvie’s place to get friendly and act as if Leveret had done nothing wrong. In Yul’s books, upsetting their mother was one of the worst things anyone could do.
‘Meat’s cooked, Yul!’ called Edward, his face red and glistening from the heat of the roaring fire. ‘Are you going to help carve?’
‘No, I think Tom should help you,’ said Yul. ‘I’m after some cider. It’s time to get rat-arsed, as they say in the Outside World. It’s been quite a while since I did.’
Edward chuckled at this and lifted the roasting meat off the fire. Yul needed to let his hair down a bit, he thought. He’d seemed so distant and bad-tempered lately. Maybe with a few drinks inside him he’d forget his worries and go back to that lovely wife of his to end the day with the perfect celebration. He grinned at the thought and decided that maybe he’d do exactly the same when he got home. That’s what all this male bonding was about anyway – reaffirming the status of the man in society, or so he’d read somewhere. And there was nothing wrong with that at all.
‘Swift, take the magus a tankard of cider, would you, boy? And have one yourself – you’re far too solemn. This is your big day remember? You’ll be a man tomorrow and I expect my Kestrel will be leading you astray over Yuletide. That boy’s so popular with the girls – I wish I’d had his success at that age!’
Swift smiled politely and carried a dripping tankard over to where Yul sat against the tree. When the magus downed it in one he refilled it … and then made it his mission for the evening to ensure that the tankard was always full. He realised he’d never seen Yul drunk before and it would be interesting to watch.
Back in the Hall, Harold sat at his desk in the office as always, tapping away at the keyboard. It made no difference to him that it was Solstice Eve and everyone else was either drinking and making merry or preparing for the next day’s events. He’d been invited to join the youngsters at their Rite of Adulthood get-together in the Wildwood with some of the other men but he’d naturally refused. Harold wasn’t a physical sort and had grown from the nervous youth of the old days into a rather anxious and intense man, almost the same age as Yul. He hid behind an owlish pair of glasses and spent most