well-weathered and well-salted. The other was maybe forty or so, with black hair and a devilish glint in his dark eyes made all the more attractive by his narrow sinuous hips.
"Afternoon," the two blokes said in greeting.
"Afternoon," Dave said - and Nicholas responded rather warily, "Good afternoon."
"I heard you young fellows were interested in our stone circle," the older bloke said.
"Well - " said Dave, wondering how to head this off at the pass. Nicholas's face had gone as blank and cold as if the shutters had come down.
"I could tell you some tales, and that's the truth."
"Tell 'em, Bert," the thin one encouraged.
"That really won't be necessary," said Nicholas. He added rather pointedly, "We're on our honeymoon, you see. The two of us - fellows."
Old Bert wasn't put off, but blessed them with a genial smile and actually winked before launching into his story. "My mam told me, from when I was a boy - "
" Really ," Nicholas continued, "we're far too busy fucking to care about stone circles. And when I say fucking, I mean each other ."
"Oh aye, I heard that, too," the fellow quite amiably replied, winking again.
Dave couldn't help but let out a laugh. It seemed that Nicholas had been silenced and maybe even a little shamed, so Dave said, "Go on, then. Tell us your tales." And he reached across the table to squeeze Nicholas's hand and then hold it as a gesture of support.
"So, my mam used to tell me, right from when I was a boy, that those stones used to be witches who were dancing around in a circle one May Day, and they was cursed by the local priest for their heathen ways, and turned to stone."
Nicholas was unimpressed. "I thought the stones were over two thousand years old. In which case they're a bit early for priests and heathens."
" I heard tell," said the other bloke, "they were maidens of the village who refused the, er … the attentions of their local lord and master, and it was him that damned them."
"Right …"
"I heard there are times when the local maidens still dance there," he added with a knowing wink. "Either way, witches or maidens, once a year at midnight every May Day they are freed from the stone for an hour - but still they must dance, though they are weary unto death."
" And once a year at midnight," Bert contributed, "when the altar stone hears the church bells ring, it turns over, it turns right the way over."
"Is that also on May Day?" Nicholas asked, in full sceptical mode - though he looked rather paler than usual. "I'm sure no one in the cottage would get any sleep, with all that going on."
They were saved from any further stories when their lunch arrived, and the barkeep chased the two locals back inside with mock threats of never serving them again if they drove away the visitors. Perhaps the barkeep had read Nicholas's discomfort, because he came back to say, "I'm sorry. Bert is mostly harmless, and he can be great company, but Vincent does egg him on rather."
"It's fine," said Dave. "Honestly, it's fine." Then, once they were alone again, he said to Nicholas, "These stories … Don't think about them, if they bother you."
"They don't bother me," Nicholas replied a little remotely. Then after a moment he smiled, and said rather more sincerely, "They don't bother me at all."
Late that night, however, Dave woke in the small hours to find Nicholas standing at the bedroom window, having drawn one of the curtains open, staring pensively up towards where the stone circle must be.
"Hey," said Dave, bleary with sleep.
"Hey," Nicholas softly replied. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."
"'S all right …" Dave got up out of bed despite the bed being perfectly warm and comfortable, and went to stand behind Nicholas, wrapped his arms snugly round his narrow waist. He peered over Nicholas's shoulder to see the stones fitfully lit by moonlight. "What's going on up there?"
"Nothing. Nothing, really." Nicholas sighed. "Those are just cloud shadows."
"Not ghosts, then?"
"I
"Afternoon," the two blokes said in greeting.
"Afternoon," Dave said - and Nicholas responded rather warily, "Good afternoon."
"I heard you young fellows were interested in our stone circle," the older bloke said.
"Well - " said Dave, wondering how to head this off at the pass. Nicholas's face had gone as blank and cold as if the shutters had come down.
"I could tell you some tales, and that's the truth."
"Tell 'em, Bert," the thin one encouraged.
"That really won't be necessary," said Nicholas. He added rather pointedly, "We're on our honeymoon, you see. The two of us - fellows."
Old Bert wasn't put off, but blessed them with a genial smile and actually winked before launching into his story. "My mam told me, from when I was a boy - "
" Really ," Nicholas continued, "we're far too busy fucking to care about stone circles. And when I say fucking, I mean each other ."
"Oh aye, I heard that, too," the fellow quite amiably replied, winking again.
Dave couldn't help but let out a laugh. It seemed that Nicholas had been silenced and maybe even a little shamed, so Dave said, "Go on, then. Tell us your tales." And he reached across the table to squeeze Nicholas's hand and then hold it as a gesture of support.
"So, my mam used to tell me, right from when I was a boy, that those stones used to be witches who were dancing around in a circle one May Day, and they was cursed by the local priest for their heathen ways, and turned to stone."
Nicholas was unimpressed. "I thought the stones were over two thousand years old. In which case they're a bit early for priests and heathens."
" I heard tell," said the other bloke, "they were maidens of the village who refused the, er … the attentions of their local lord and master, and it was him that damned them."
"Right …"
"I heard there are times when the local maidens still dance there," he added with a knowing wink. "Either way, witches or maidens, once a year at midnight every May Day they are freed from the stone for an hour - but still they must dance, though they are weary unto death."
" And once a year at midnight," Bert contributed, "when the altar stone hears the church bells ring, it turns over, it turns right the way over."
"Is that also on May Day?" Nicholas asked, in full sceptical mode - though he looked rather paler than usual. "I'm sure no one in the cottage would get any sleep, with all that going on."
They were saved from any further stories when their lunch arrived, and the barkeep chased the two locals back inside with mock threats of never serving them again if they drove away the visitors. Perhaps the barkeep had read Nicholas's discomfort, because he came back to say, "I'm sorry. Bert is mostly harmless, and he can be great company, but Vincent does egg him on rather."
"It's fine," said Dave. "Honestly, it's fine." Then, once they were alone again, he said to Nicholas, "These stories … Don't think about them, if they bother you."
"They don't bother me," Nicholas replied a little remotely. Then after a moment he smiled, and said rather more sincerely, "They don't bother me at all."
Late that night, however, Dave woke in the small hours to find Nicholas standing at the bedroom window, having drawn one of the curtains open, staring pensively up towards where the stone circle must be.
"Hey," said Dave, bleary with sleep.
"Hey," Nicholas softly replied. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."
"'S all right …" Dave got up out of bed despite the bed being perfectly warm and comfortable, and went to stand behind Nicholas, wrapped his arms snugly round his narrow waist. He peered over Nicholas's shoulder to see the stones fitfully lit by moonlight. "What's going on up there?"
"Nothing. Nothing, really." Nicholas sighed. "Those are just cloud shadows."
"Not ghosts, then?"
"I
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