The First Solstice

“I just don’t understand why we need to do this,” Phil moaned, heaving his giant load back onto his shoulders. “How can we need more stones?”

I was too busy with my own stone to reply. Plus, it wasn’t our job to think — we were told we needed to get more stones, and more stones we had got. Tonight’s party is to be the biggest and best party the village has ever had, said the King. We need stones for everyone, he said to us before we set out to collect the stones and heave them up to the Big Stones.

Midsummer was upon us, and as it had been a very quiet year with hardly any major battles or noteworthy pillaging, the King had decreed that a new festival was to take place. Attendance at the Stones for sunset was mandatory.

Half an hour later we reached our destination and we hefted our haul down onto the ground. “I’m changing my name,” Phil said to me once he’d caught his breath, “from now on, I am Phil Stoneman.”

“You can’t change your name again,” I replied, “you’ve only just changed it!”

Phil sat down on his stone. “I know, I know. But Phil Broadshoulders was just so…last week. When I was building that house, it felt right. Now I feel like a Stoneman.”

“Well what happens when you go back to building houses?” I replied.

This made Phil Stoneman pause. He was good at building houses and carrying stones up hills, but logic and reasoning were not his fortes. He lounged back on his stone, stretching his arms above his head. “I’m worried I won’t know anyone coming tonight,” he said after a while.

I turned on my stone to face him. “Sure you will! My friend John is coming, you know him.”

“Who?”

“John Swift,” I replied. “The guy who runs everywhere.”

“Oh, that guy! Yeah, he was trying to start some sort of running competition. With different metals for prizes, but I told him it would never catch on.”

“That’s him. Deluded. But very useful when you need a letter or two taking over to Castletown. Hot Emma’s coming too.”

Phil Stoneman sat up. “And is she…?”

“Is she what?”

“And is she…hot?”

“Oh. No. That’s her name because she spends the whole day cooking over her cauldron,” I replied. “She’s actually very unattractive.” Phil Stoneman sagged back down onto his stone.

“I’m never going to find a wife,” he moaned. “All the good 14-year-olds are taken now and even some of the 13-year-olds have settled down and are having kids.”

His pathetic reverie was interrupted by voices, coming up the hill. We soon saw it was the King and his two most trusted men — Steven Bigbeard and David Dragonslayer, coming towards us. They were deep in conversation:

“I really think we need more to eat,” the King was saying.

“We have plenty of food,” Steven Bigbeard replied. “Don’t worry about that.”

“I just…I just still think, that maybe we need to do a sacrifice…” the King’s voice tailed off.

Steven Bigbeard and David Dragonslayer rolled their eyes. “We’ve been over this,” Steven Bigbeard said, “the people just aren’t that…keen…on sacrifices any more. They just feel they’re a bit…outdated.”

David Dragonslayer nodded. “I even heard a rumour that they were going to do a walk or something, through the village, to show opposition. With written signs.”

“Yes, yes,” said Steven Bigbeard. “A committee was being formed to think of an actual word to describe the walky-sign thing. If it happens we’ll just stamp it out, chuck everyone in the jail for a day or two. They’ll thank us later.”

“Fine, fine! No sacrifices,” said the King, his hand resting on one of the Big Stones. Only the King was allowed to touch the Stones.

“You always try and stop my fun,” he said after a pause. “First it was the whole Emperor thing, now the sacrifices…”

Steven Bigbeard and David Dragonslayer looked at each impatiently. “You are being ridiculous,” said Steven Bigbeard, the only person who could ever get away with talking to the King like this. “King is a great name! Emperor just sounds so…megalomaniacal. Do you not think?”

“Do I think! Do I think?” huffed the King. “I don’t even know what megalo — meglaman — that that word even means! Did you make that up?”

“I did,” said Steven Bigbeard proudly.

“Listen, you’re stressed. It’s going to be great!” David Dragonslayer said, using his arms in a calming motion, even though the King had his back turned, now gently stroking the Stones. “There will be plenty of food, gallons of wine, everyone has got their own stone in case the ground gets dewy…”

“And the women know to bring a blanket?” said the King. “For when it gets colder later?”

“Yes.”

“And the men are all leaving their swords at home in case someone drinks too much wine and wants a duel?”

“Yes, we learnt our lessons that Harvest Festival debacle last year. They’re being searched on arrival by Big James and Big Tony.”

“And all the kids are being looked after in the village?”

“Yes, two of the girls from Castletown are coming over to watch them,” said David Dragonslayer.

“Yep. Mary Singer and Fit Martha,” added Steven Bigbeard.

The King turned round suddenly.

“And is she…?”

“Is she what?”

“You know…fit?”

“Oh yes. Apparently she can do 100 sit ups without stopping,” said Steven Bigbeard. “Although just turned 18 and no kids yet, so there must be something wrong with her.”

****

People started to arrive just after the eighth bell, excited men and women trudging up the hill towards the Stones. Phil Stoneman and I were tasked with handing out goblets of wine, Steven Bigbeard supervising the whole operation while David Dragonslayer stood near the King with his favourite dragon-slaying sword by his side in case anyone tried anything.

“Thank you for coming,” the King said, “welcome to my Midsummer Merrymaking,” he added. “We really need to think of a better name for all this,” he whispered to David Dragonslayer.

The sun started to dip and the party was in full swing. People were drinking, dancing, singing. Phil Stoneman got distracted from wine servantry and started talking to Hot Emma. She was explaining how best to boil a rabbit and he looked faintly disgusted, but the four or five goblets of wine he’d snaffled in the last 90 minutes were having their desired effect.

The King was preparing to make his big speech. He stood on a large stone near the Big Stones. David Dragonslayer tapped a large goblet with his sword and the crowd hushed.

“Ladies and gentleman…” the King started, but he got no further, because just then a fight broke out. It was Phil Stoneman. And John Swift. They were rolling around on the dry grass grabbing at each other’s tunics.

“I saw her first!” Phil Stoneman shouted.

“Nay! I!” John Swift replied.

“She doesn’t want to join your steeplechase team,” Phil Stoneman yelled. “No-one even knows what a steeplechase is!”

Then from the bottom of the hill came an almighty racket. At least a hundred people were charging up the mound. I recognised a few of them — Castletown villagers. Right at the front was Fit Martha.

“Who’s looking after the children?!” some of the mothers shrieked.

The marauding interlopers rushed for the bread and wine. “Can’t believe you didn’t invite us!” they shouted at Steven Bigbeard and David Dragonslayer. The King was beside himself, barking instructions at his subordinates to restore order to his Midsummer Merrymaking.

The invading villagers finished their goblets; the mothers rushed down the hill towards their children. Still Phil Stoneman and John Swift tussled, Hot Emma her defining shade of red as two men battled for her affection. The sun dipped below the horizon and the longest day of the year receded into darkness.

Amongst the mayhem the King had managed to climb onto the Big Stones, and tucked under one arm was a bleating goat. “Hand me your sword David Dragonslayer,” he ordered. “Listen up everyone!” he shouted above the racket. “Who wants to see a sacrifice?”