



The main character in my upcoming trilogy The Harmatia Cycle, Rufus is a mathematical and magical genius. Low-born, but with a thirst for knowledge, he broke into the Royal archives (-forbidden to all by the King’s Magi) at fifteen in order to pursue his love of learning. When he was discovered there, after almost two years of secret studying, the Magi were so impressed by his wealth of understanding and ability, that rather than imprison him, they welcomed him into their ranks…
At seventeen he was the youngest, and first low-born Magi to have ever been apprenticed in Harmatia.
Artwork © Madeleine Vaughan
An, A Capella original arrangement of the traditional Celtic song.
A reinterpretation of ‘Scarborough Fair’, recounting the story of Fionn Mac Cumhail and his battle with the Norseman. Whilst the origin of this particular legend is initially attributed to Scotland, I decided to set it in Ireland where most of the stories of Fionn are based.
To reinforce the setting I used the term ‘Lochlannach’ (Loch-lan-ack) which is the old Irish word for Norsemen and Viking. In accord with the legends, I refer to Fionn as a ‘giant’ and reinforce the myth that his ‘dun’ (a dark age fortress) is in Kildare, on the hill of Allen.
Based on their meaning according to the Ogham symbols, the trees in the song each represent the moralistic element of the story –
Elder – Transition
Oak – Strength
Ash – Wisdom
Apple – Love
Thorn – Consequence & Perspective
The moral of the tale is that arrogance and anger can cause lack of judgement and lead to great loss. In the penultimate and last verse, following the horror of battle, Fionn chooses to learn from his mistake and be wiser in the future.
Updates on ‘The Harmatia Cycle’

Find out more about Bethean, a country in The Harmatia Cycle. Updates include information about the Kingdom, the Religion, Customs and Laws, and even a Dictionary of slang! (Viewer discretion advised)
Soon to come – Information on other countries including Kathra, Avalon and Réne, a quiz, and several more illustrations!
Enjoy!

FAERIE THORN
There is a thorn tree
That we do not touch.
We farm about it,
Tip-toe the machinery
In awkward circles
Around its territory.
It is an invader
In our field, but
It has far out-lived
Each one of us.
It stated its claim
On the fertile land
Long before Grandpa
Was even born.
And so we leave it,
Just in case,
Its death-curse is true.
At night, figures dance
Around it, in my dreams.
We move down the new streets
Concrete at our feet
And admire the careful architecture
Of the city on the Orontes
Where Water flows like life itself.
And down the slim streets we tour,
Without a breath of sound
No gun-fire, or cries, not a whisper.
And as we walk, we ask
In this city of revolution,
A city which no one saw fall
Why is it so silent now?
Figures rush from corner to corner
Shrouded in the dust of the walls
They sprang from, and are gone again.
Where are the people of Hama?
And an old man answers
A single survivor,
Pointing to the earth, the city buried beneath.
“Here they are.” He says. “Here are the people of Hama.”
And under our feet, a thousand lie
Trapped by the regime and the concrete
Which hides and forgets
Where a city once stood
And was buried alive.