Jacob’s confinement lasted a week before Grey convinced Black to relent. The latter dashed any hopes that Jacob might be back on patrol leading his men again as he gave him a punishment detail, pronouncing it ‘crucial to the effort’ to inventory the new equipment that was being sent over from the development sites around the country.

In fact, it was important work, but work he could have delegated instead of tying Jacob up for days on end. By the end of May, Jacob managed to appear as contrite as Black wanted, and Black finally released him to his earlier duties.

Now on the hottest day of the year so far, Jacob didn’t miss the cool of the equipment sheds. He turned his face to the sun, eyes screwed shut, and drank in the fresh warm air of freedom.

“Don’t take this for granted, lads,” he advised the men in his small company. “God knows we did before the war. A few months knee-deep in mud and who-knows-what and you forget what the sun feels like.”

They made various sounds of agreement, but Jacob knew they didn’t believe him. They’d been too young to enlist, or at least to fight, and the true horrors of war had no place in minds seduced by the romantic ideals of ‘doing one’s duty’.

“Come on then,” he called. “Let’s get moving.” There had been no reinforcements to his company since the attack and they still felt Violet and Aqua’s absence. Lavender was not up to strength either, though he had made a miraculous recovery with the help of the healers. With so few men in the company Black felt they could not be strong enough to resist another attack and so most of their duties were now administrative. When the ever-present short-staffing issues required them to go on patrols despite this, Black always assigned them the outer routes nearer the village where there were fewer chances of attack.

In contrast, the Companies on the inner patrols toward the stones were coming under near-daily siege. So far none of the attacks had been as damaging as the one Jacob’s company had faced (something else that Black saw as evidence of Jacob’s incompetence). In truth this was because of the patrols being more aware of the risks of subterranean ambush. They filled each rabbit-warren or similar hole in the ground with magical smoke as soon as they discovered it, something that flushed out any lurking fae and more than a few rabbits. The men picked these latter off as target practice and to fill the pots for supper. The same swift death met any supernatural creatures that came to the surface, barring a few captured alive and sent for study. Magic researchers had identified a half-dozen new species that month alone, and the fae were reinforcing as fast as they were being discovered.

Each time a returning patrol reported a new attack they plotted it on a map of the area in Black’s office. By now there were different coloured pins scattered over the Salisbury plains; each colour signifying a different species of fae, a rainbow of pins jostling for position around hot-spots. Whenever anyone had cause to visit his office, they found Black stood in front of the map, staring at the pins as if by sheer force of will he could make sense of them. Frequently the visitor would have to ponder the significance of a certain cluster of pins, to speculate on the fae’s intentions or goals, only to face Black’s abuse when their theory didn’t agree with his current notions.

One thing anyone could see was that the attacks never came from the same direction twice. The fae were probing their defences, trying a surge across a stream here, an ambush from behind a fence there, always looking for a weak spot to exploit. Everyone agreed that they must not be able to find one, even though this meant yet more patrols and even less time to rest.

Today Jacob’s company were assisting with distributing new equipment to the other men. Much of this was the same inventory that Jacob had catalogued, and while it therefore made sense he & his men issue it, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was still another of Black’s punishments.

They now had a full complement of ‘proper’ staffs, some men still having had to make do with the slapdash items they’d used in training. Companies now had armour plate carved with protective sigils, lightweight but still intended to protect their most vulnerable spots. It strapped onto the body with canvas webbing, and large plates covered the chest and back, with smaller plates extending to protect the throat, back of the neck and groin areas. Other plates strapped onto the legs but most of the men found these constricting and awkward, and elected not to wear them. They also found that the helmets, whilst apparently designed for magic users, interfered with the wearer’s ability to cast spells.

They distributed more hagstones, meaning that there was one for each two men in most companies, and one between three in the rest. In Jacob’s opinion this was the most important addition to their kit, and he kept agitating for more.

By lunchtime, everything was in the hands of its new owners, and Jacob’s group went for a meal.

“Rabbit stew again?” Magenta sighed. “I swear I’ll turn into a rabbit before long at this rate.”

“I thought your ears looked even bigger than usual,” Beige teased.

“Now, now,” Jacob chided. “There’s no need to be cruel. Look, his little nose is twitching!” The men laughed, and even Magenta grinned along with them.

They gulped their stew, no matter how bored they might have been of it by now they’d always a healthy appetite. Just as they finished the meal, Grey walked over from his own table and greeted them.

“Brown, a word?” he asked Jacob, and the two moved to a table a few yards away.

“What is it?” Jacob asked.

“Need you & your men to head over to the stones this afternoon, lend a hand.”

“Is there a problem?”

“Not that I know of, just short-handed like all of us,” Grey answered. “I imagine it’s manual labour, so leave Lavender behind; they’ll fill you in on what needs doing.”

When they reached the stones, Jacob and his men were met by a short but stocky Scot called McDonald.

“Watch out for pits,” he warned them. “Archaeologists are having a whale of a time round here at the moment, and they’ve got any number of holes dug.”

Sure enough, everywhere you looked there were small test pits two feet across, or larger holes big enough for two men to dig in at once. Jacob shuddered at the resemblance to graves, and the memory of their recent ambush. Though he was sure they’d know if any fae had shown up in the digging site, he made a mental note to check the holes for anything out of place.

Once McDonald had outlined their duties, Jacob sent Vermillion & Turquoise to aid with the digging. Magenta and Beige along with Jacob would help lift one of the upright stones back into position, and they followed McDonald to the location.

A bespectacled man in a clean suit and tie sat at a folding camp table, writing in a small notebook. Spread in front of him were a selection of papers, photographs and hand-drawn maps and sketches of the site. McDonald waited while the man finished his writing, removed and carefully folded his small glasses, placed them in a leather case and then raised his head to look at the men.

“Mr Fletcher, these are the fellows we have to help with the lintels,” McDonald said. “Mr Black sent them over just now. Gentlemen, this is Mr Fletcher of the Ministry of Works.” Jacob could hear the capital letters as McDonald spoke.

Fletcher regarded them. “Any building experience?” he asked in a thin voice.

“I was a miner, sir,” Jacob replied, “before and during the war. And we’re all fit and strong.”

The man peered at them critically. “Well you’ll have to do,” he conceded. “We’re removing the lintels from the stones on the North-East side, so we can put the uprights, well, upright again. McDonald will show you where to go.” With that he sat back down and extracting his glasses from their case continued working as if they’d already left.

“Don’t mind him,” McDonald said as they walked across the circle to the working area. “He’s not as bad as all that, just a lot of weight on his shoulders. The whole restoration effort is his responsibility. Oh, but he has lackeys everywhere, so mind what you say. And that means none of your, ahem, specialist skills will be of much use, I’m afraid.”

Once at the location, the company saw the stones in question leaning outwards from the remains of the circle at an angle of at least ten degrees. There were four: the central ones the worst off, but all of them straying from the vertical. Across the four were three lintel stones, huge horizontal megaliths which threatened to slide off at any moment. It was clear the wooden props were all that was preventing the lot from tumbling, and the props themselves were rotting.

Erected on either side of the leaning rocks were tall wooden A-frames, with thick ropes threaded through block and tackle. Leather strops were being placed under the horizontal stones to protect them when lifted, and wooden planks were in position to receive them on the ground. McDonald explained that all they needed to do was pull on the ropes when told to and hold fast while his own men swung the frames and their precious cargo into position.

“What will this do to the protection offered by the henge?” Jacob whispered. “We’re seeing a lot of activity as it is, what can we expect when we dismantle this set?”

McDonald looked glum. “I can’t be sure, we repaired some other stones in January, just a set of three, and there wasn’t much change in activity. But then these are the largest surviving run of stones, so they must be important. Besides, if we do nothing they might just fall - and if one breaks…”

Jacob nodded. “All right, we’ll just have to hope it all holds.”

A few hot and exhausting hours later, the three lintels lay on the ground, and McDonald’s men worked to remove the ropes from the final stone. Without the weight pressing down upon the uprights, they looked more stable than before, but a careful testing of the props showed they were still supporting a massive weight.

Tea and a few stale buns served as refreshments, and Jacob’s company sat in the shade of the stones and caught their breath.

“Thank the Lord it’s getting cooler now,” Magenta said, wiping his brow with a grubby handkerchief.

“Hmm?” Jacob was checking their surroundings with his hagstone, something he’d been doing surreptitiously ever since the first stone had come down. He didn’t expect an attack in broad daylight but it never hurt to be ready. Could the fae sense they had removed the stones? he thought. Did we just expose ourselves?