Shaman of Stonewylde (21 page)

BOOK: Shaman of Stonewylde
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Make a wish and make a child
,

A seed to grow at fair Stonewylde
,

At Honey Moon we wish tonight

For one new life, O Lady Bright
.’

David chuckled and kissed her tenderly, thinking that no child could wish for a more magical or sacred conception than this.

In the cottage at the edge of the Village, six were crowded in the stinking parlour. It was a very warm night and the fire was out, but the windows were shut fast and the air was rank. Smoke hung in a pall over everyone’s heads as they sat drinking, the boys their cider and the women a concoction of mead laced with something stronger. They weren’t wasting that on the young ones, not that the murky liquid appealed to the lads anyway. Only Vetchling was without a pipe, as her cough hadn’t improved with the warmer weather. Try as she might to have a good smoke, it only made her cough until she was sick, and left her gasping like a landed fish. She’d given up trying now, and sat wheezing and muttering complaints.

‘Remember we’re casting tonight, and you promised me a man,’ said Starling, in her usual reclining position, not even having to stir to feed the fire now.

‘I told you, that’s daft!’ said Violet crossly. ‘I ain’t doing it.’

‘You promised, Auntie, and if you don’t I’ll go and find one myself, and leave you two old biddies on your own. How would you manage then? That bitch doctor would have you up the Hall like a shot!’

‘Aye, she would that,’ croaked Vetchling. ‘We’d be up there in the Hall in nasty rooms all starched and bare, with none of our things about us. Oh no, you get her a man, sister. As long as he moves in here, he won’t be no trouble. And he can chop the wood for us then.’

Violet regarded her balefully and leant forward to spit into the cold hearth. Jay drew hard on his pipe and took another swig of the strong cider. He knew his Uncle Martin arranged for supplies of the best stuff to be sent down here, which was good of the old man. He was never quite sure what his uncle – or second cousin
or
whatever he was – felt about him. Martin was always polite to him, but he’d noticed some strange looks. Certainly he was a force to be reckoned with, and Jay wouldn’t want to be on his wrong side.

Sweyn and Gefrin were now thoroughly befuddled with the drink and pipes, and both were beginning to wonder why they’d come here. The crones weren’t interested in plotting wickedness aimed at their sister. They seemed bad-tempered and out of sorts with each other tonight, like a trio of edgy cats, and neither brother wanted to be on the receiving end of any of their nastiness. They weren’t sure how they could make an exit without causing offence, so they sat on the logs swigging more cider and feeling the worse for it.

‘She got a creature, so I hear,’ muttered Violet.

‘Aye, and now she has a creature, there’ll be no stopping her!’ whined Vetchling. ‘As ever, trying to take what’s rightfully ours.’

The boys looked at each other helplessly, having no idea what they were on about.

‘But this Solstice . . . we know what’ll come about! ’Twill be the start o’ the ending for the whole nest of ’em.’

‘Aye, sister, you speak right as ever. The hare-girl’s magic shall be shown for what it is – puny, sickly stuff that ain’t got a spit o’ power to it! This Solstice, ’tis time enough.’

‘And after that . . . after the Solstice, all will begin to fail as we always said ‘twould. We know what will come around, for who could resist the lure?’

Starling shifted uncomfortably in her huge chair and let out a sharp belch.

‘Shall we start casting soon?’ she said. ‘You two old ‘uns can barely keep your eyes open after dark nowadays, and I don’t want to miss this night. A love-spell cast at the Mead Moon – none can escape that!’

‘Reckon we better get going then,’ said Jay, knocking out his pipe.

Sweyn and Gefrin stood up quickly, anxious to be gone.
Gefrin
stumbled as the blood rushed to his head and he grabbed at his younger, heavier brother to steady himself. Sweyn was caught off balance and crashed into the empty hearth, knocking his head hard on the lintel. All three women squawked at this, unable to get up, and Jay ducked out of the way as Sweyn toppled over, narrowly missing him. The whole incident happened fast, leaving the young man groaning on the filthy floor, a huge blue lump on his temple.

‘Bloody hell, Sweyn!’ cried Gefrin, trying to bend over his brother and almost falling headlong into the greasy ashes in the hearth himself. ‘I’m sorry – are you alright?’

Sweyn groaned and Jay bent to take a look.

‘Silly bugger’s almost knocked himself out,’ he said.

‘ ’Twas to be expected,’ cried Vetchling, but broke off as the cough took hold of her.

Violet tried to make herself heard over the awful lung-wrenching sound of her sister’s suffering.

‘Put a cold compress on it,’ she screeched, waving a gnarled hand at the boys. ‘We ain’t got nothing here, but do that when you get back. Now take him out of here! I don’t want no poking about in my cottage asking questions! Get out!’

Gefrin managed to heave Sweyn into a sitting position, and then with Jay’s help, get him up on his feet. The heavy youth stood swaying between them, still unable to speak.

‘Off you go, lads,’ cried Starling. ‘Shut the door behind you – we got work to do tonight!’

Yul sat with his back to the Hare Stone. He’d watched the sun setting and had, to his surprise, felt a thrill of earth energy in his veins as it disappeared behind the hills. Swifts sliced above his head in a breathtaking aerial display as they devoured gnats in the warm, still air. Gradually the birds’ high-pitched twittering stopped and the skies darkened. Yul tipped his head back, his knees hugged to his chest, and gazed up at the dome of night above his head. Sylvie wasn’t coming – of that he was sure. She’d have been here by now.

He felt a hard knot of disappointment in his chest. Why had he criticised her in the Stone Circle? Why couldn’t he just hold back for once? He was desperate to heal the rift between them and make it right again. If only she’d come tonight, he could have shown her just how much he loved her. He imagined her spread out on the grass beside him, her hair like a great silver fan, her slim arms reaching out and pulling him down as their lips found each other . . .

His eyes flew open as he heard the sound of someone approaching. His heart hammered in his chest – he’d try so hard to get it right tonight. His eyes prickled with tears as he thought just how much he loved Sylvie – his beautiful moon-angel. He longed to watch her spread her wings and dance, with the moonbeams caressing her white skin and the starlight sparkling in her silver eyes. She was his magical, moongazy girl and—

A blonde head appeared and instantly he knew it wasn’t Sylvie. His hopes and excitement deflated like a punctured balloon and he hung his head bitterly. In the near darkness, the figure came further into view, climbing the steep hill. Just as he recognised who it was, she called out to him.

‘There you are!’ she cried. ‘What happened to you?’

She was a little out of breath and threw herself down on the short grass in front of him.

‘What?’ He didn’t want to engage with her at all tonight – he just couldn’t be bothered. She wasn’t Sylvie and that’s all that mattered.

‘One minute you were greeting me and the next you’d vanished!’ she said.

‘What are you talking about?’ he said crossly. ‘I haven’t greeted you.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous – you just called me by name a minute ago! Down there, by the rocks just now. I’ve been looking all over the place for you – I thought you were playing some kind of silly hide-and-seek amongst the boulders when you vanished like that. Anyway, here you are and – oh!’

As they were speaking, the moon had risen and was now a
great
golden disc floating on the horizon, the heat in the atmosphere making its edges appear jagged.

‘Goddess but that’s beautiful!’ breathed Rainbow. ‘So very beautiful.’

She sat up and spun round to face the rising moon, glad she’d found Yul at least, though it was a pity Sylvie wasn’t here. Magpie had captured something so magical, and she was intrigued to see how much was real and how much his imagination.

Rainbow and Yul sat for some time in silence. They watched the diagonal path of the moon as she rose stealthily in the warm night, stars twinkling around her in the dark velvet sky. The scent of cut hay was strong, and above their heads bats took over where the swifts had left off, as moths fluttered in the darkness all around them. But Sylvie wasn’t here and they both felt her absence. Rainbow reached across and patted his leg.

‘Were you waiting for her too?’

When he didn’t answer, she sighed and wriggled herself backwards to rest against the monolith next to him. The stone warmed her back and she closed her eyes, thinking that life couldn’t really be more perfect than this. A warm summer’s evening at Stonewylde, the full moon overhead and Yul by her side with nobody to disturb them. But his next words smashed her fantasy.

‘You’ve been at Stonewylde long enough, Rainbow – since the Equinox. It’s the Solstice in two weeks’ time and after that I want you to leave.’


What?
Why?’

‘This was only ever meant to be a short visit for you to do some sketching. It’s been three months now and that’s enough. We can’t have you thinking you live here.’

‘But . . . why not? Why can’t I live here?’

‘Because you don’t belong here.’

‘Why not? I have as much right to be here as you, or Sylvie, or anyone else. I spent large chunks of my childhood here and I love Stonewylde. I think that—’

‘You don’t have any right to be here. Folk here don’t like you
being
around – you make them feel uncomfortable.’

‘Do I make
you
feel uncomfortable, Yul?’

‘No, of course not! Only in so far as you don’t belong here and don’t share our common ethos.’

‘If I go quietly after the Solstice, will you allow me back again for another visit?’

He thought about this for a moment.

‘To be honest, Rainbow – it’s unlikely. Sylvie never wanted—’

‘Sod what bloody Sylvie wanted! How can you be so damn
cruel?
I absolutely
love
Stonewylde and it’s not fair that you can just send me away. I
do
belong here and I know that if I could stay, I’d become a great asset to the community. I’d bring in revenue, and—’

‘We don’t want Hallfolk money,’ said Yul coldly, stretching out his legs ready to stand. Rainbow put her hand on his thigh and stroked it, feeling hard muscle through the thin material.

‘Yul, you know how I feel. Please . . . don’t send me away. I’ll do anything to stay, anything at all. I could make you very happy, and—’

He brushed her hand away and stood up quickly, ignoring the unbidden throb of desire.

‘I already am happy, thank you very much, and nothing you could—’

‘No, you’re not!’ she cried angrily. ‘You’re as miserable as sin and I know why! A man like you – a real, red-blooded man – needs a woman by his side. Your beloved wife has chosen to leave you and move out – how can you say you’re happy? I don’t think you know the meaning of the word any more. And—’

But he’d gone, striding off down the hill without a backward glance. The hares sitting upright in the long grass gazing at the moon slid down onto their bellies or scattered as he approached. Rainbow was left on her own on the hilltop in the silvery darkness.

In the moonlit cottage, Leveret sat in the rocking chair with Hare in her lap. Her eyes were shut and she stroked the soft fur,
fondling
Hare’s velvet ears with a gentle touch. She felt at peace; earlier in the evening she’d put on her hare headdress and cast a spell of protection around the whole cottage. At the last minute she’d abandoned the formal ritual she’d memorised. Doing what felt right was often better than doing something by the book, and Leveret had decided to trust her own instinct tonight.

As the moon rose she’d been ready outside the cottage with Hare on the ground beside her. The creature’s paw had mended cleanly, and, although she’d never run like others of her kind, she could lope about quite happily. Leveret had a shoulder bag full of lavender gathered earlier in the day and now, with Mother Heggy’s athame in her hand pointing skywards, she shuffled slowly around the cottage in a widdershins direction strewing the herbs on the ground with the other hand. She called on the power and magic of the Bright Lady, the Triple Goddess as Mother, to protect the hallowed cottage. Hare lolloped along by her side until they’d completed a circle around the building.

‘I ask you to protect this little house from all harm, to keep away those with ill intent, and to welcome all who come with an open heart!’ Leveret said softly. ‘I ask you to make it a place of healing and magic, for me as it was for Mother Heggy. I ask for her spirit to bless the place, and help me become as wise as she was.’

Hare sat down and raised her long ears. There was a flurry of wings and the crow landed on the roof. His one white feather glowed in the moonlight and his beady eye gleamed. He perched on the new thatch and began to
CAW
very loudly in the darkness.


Five, always five!
’ came a rustling whisper, so Leveret continued to circle the building, bringing down the moon magic through the athame and her own body, casting a ring of protection and energy around the tiny cottage. She didn’t stop until she’d made five circuits, and then the crow fluttered down from the roof and stood at the threshold looking in through the open door.

Leveret watched, holding her breath, hoping desperately that the bird would enter the cottage. But it let out another mighty
CAW
and,
with
a clumsy flapping of wings, flew off into the silver night. Disappointed, Leveret went inside with Hare at her heels and poured herself a small measure of mead. She sat in the centre of the pentagram, the hare headdress still draped over her head, and drank the mead and ate a little cake, honouring the bounty of Stonewylde and the Earth Mother.

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