by Kit Berry
‘Clip, I . . . I—’
He smiled and patted her arm in understanding.
‘No need to say anything, it’s alright. I’m assuming she died of natural causes, as there wasn’t a mark on her, no wounds of any kind. She was lying right in my path, on the ground near Mother Heggy’s cottage and she was still warm – what could I do but cure her skin for you? I’ve long thought you should have a shaman’s headdress or magical costume of some kind. You may recall my cloak of black bird feathers? That will be yours when I leave Stonewylde, but I realised that you should also have your own totem garment. You must put the hare’s head here, over your forehead, so she looks out from your inner eye chakra and her ears lie back over your head and crown. Tie the laces here, under your chin . . .’
Leveret looked up at him and now it was Clip’s turn to shiver. The hare headdress was perfect. The hare’s sightless eyes gazed out from the girl’s forehead and the soft fur, with the fine leather inside so carefully tanned over the past two weeks, fell in a kind of heavy veil from it, reaching right down her back. Leveret’s wild dark curls and the hare’s front paws framed her pointed face, whilst the rest of the skin hung down over her shoulders with the hind paws level with her breasts. She had become hare-woman; even her green eyes had changed.
Clip picked up his large frame-drum and beater, and settled more comfortably on the cushion, a recent concession to comfort. Leveret, magical and bizarre in the hare headdress, pulled her warm cloak around herself and gazed into the flames of the fire. The soft April light outside the stone cave began to fade unnoticed as the deep-voiced shamanic drumbeats summoned, insistent and throbbing. The flames crackled brightly in the hearth, and outside a crow called across the landscape . . .
Raven drew her into the entrance; not her usual one, but a tree tunnel of sorts, long and stretching away beneath an arch of beech trees. Leveret recognised it as the Long Walk leading into the Stone Circle, although in this Middle World landscape everything was slightly different. The trees breathed, their green-lichened trunks expanding and contracting with each breath, and their delicate twigs and unfurling leaves trembled with life-force. They sparkled a brilliant lime-green, giving out light and energy. As usual, the way was lined with waist-high stones all carved and hewn into shape. And in the dreamscape, the stones themselves had life, each grain and molecule pulsating with being. The worms in the earth by the side of the pathway were visible, beautiful and perfectly designed for their role in the great web of life. The sky through the branches above was pure, forget-me-not blue and so limitless it made Leveret want to cry.
Raven strutted alongside and turned its glossy head to fix her with a knowing eye.
‘Everything is connected, everything is true,’ it said, with the beak that never opened.
The Long Walk stretched ahead and Leveret walked its length peacefully, sniffing the air and the scent of nature all around, like a perfume more subtle and sublime than any other. The bird song was a symphony greater than any that man had, or ever would, compose. Leveret felt perfectly, completely happy in such a place. Of Clip and his silver wolf, there was no sign.
They reached at last the entrance to the Stone Circle, and over the two stones there was a woven archway of hawthorn boughs smothered in starry blossom. Inside the Circle it was different again, and at first Leveret thought the great arena was empty. Each megalith was painted as usual, but instead of the normal patterns and motifs, the stones were painted all over with leaves. If was like walking into a woodland grove rather than a stone henge. Real boughs of many different types of tree lay on the tops of the stones and stood propped between them, so that all was green and leafy.
Then Leveret noticed a couple standing over by the Altar Stone. He was dressed as the Green Man – or maybe he was the Green Man – in a robe of leaves and a massive headdress of hawthorn blossom. His skin was green and his grey eyes bright in his face, and as Leveret stared at his mass of dark curls she realised it was Yul, but a very young Yul, not much older than she was now. By his side stood the May Queen, his Maiden of Beltane and of course it was Sylvie. She was a young, exquisite girl with skin like pearl and hair like silver corn-silk, dressed in the traditional white dress with a wreath of bluebells and white blossom on her head.
The Green Man was merry and bright and he glowed with a strange green light that danced all over him. The May Queen glowed silver as if washed with moonbeams and sprinkled with stardust. Silver threads chased all over her pale limbs as if alive. As Leveret watched, the Green Man began a dance upon the earth floor and, as if by magic, the green energy began to awaken beneath his feet. She could see it clearly, like a great coiled snake under the ground slowly coming to life, moving as the boy’s dancing feet marked out the sacred pattern that quickened it. And the Maiden too began to dance, trailing silver moonbeams and magic as she moved, her light feet caressing the earth and the waiting serpent so it flexed with pleasure and delight.
And her vision expanding suddenly, as it did in the dreamscape, Leveret saw this great serpent of Stonewylde, this life-force and magical being, curled beneath the land all around, stretching out along the ridgeway and beneath the riverbed and below the Village and around the Hall. It writhed below the Wildwood and the cliffs, the hills and the valleys, the wells and the springs. Everywhere the snake spread its coils and its length, and then, with her vision expanded even further, like a lens pulling back and back, Leveret saw that the serpent was simply one aspect of the great Goddess in the Landscape that was Stonewylde, her life force and her life energy.
The boy and the girl in the Stone Circle, their dance now done, fell into each other’s arms. And Leveret saw such complete love, such absolute tenderness in their embrace and their kiss that she could not breathe for the tears that choked her throat. Such perfect harmony – the darkness and the light, the green and the silver, the male and the female. And Raven turned to her and spoke softly.
‘This is what has been lost and must be found.’
‘But how?’ asked Leveret.
‘The Circle must be free of taint,’ Raven replied.
‘But how?’ she asked again but there was no response, for the vision was fading and now they were somewhere else completely.
They were at the entrance to a cave where boulders were heaped around the mouth. Carefully they picked their way through and into a long, dark passage. They walked slowly along, noting the carvings of snakes all over the walls and roof, until they were inside a great tomb. Leveret looked around in wonder at the rock-lined chamber. It was dry, the air strange with the scent of earth, herbs and incense. Tiny oil-lamps, little more than primitive finger-pots filled with oil and a burning wick, were dotted all around the edges of the stone-lined floor. A long stone table lay in the centre, and off the chamber were several dark portals leading into blackness. Leveret was scared of what might lie in them and looked to Raven for reassurance. Raven bobbed its head and said, ‘You are right not to look beyond this chamber. That is not for you to know just now.’
‘Where are we?’ she asked in wonder. ‘Is this the Lower World? Is it a tomb?’
‘Tomb and womb, death and birth, earth and breath – ’tis all the dance of life.’
And then, as the vision began to fade, Leveret saw a staff with a snake entwined around it and recognised the Asklepian, the ancient symbol of healing and medicine, the wand of life and death.
It was strange for Leveret, only two days later, to be walking down the Long Walk into the Stone Circle for Beltane sunrise. She glanced at the beech trees and stones lining the way with slightly different eyes, aware of their alternative reality. By her side, as ever, was Clip, ash staff in hand. He no longer conducted any of the ceremonies, having told the Council that this was part of the leaving process and necessary for everyone concerned; a gradual release rather than an abrupt departure.
Inside the Stone Circle the usual Green Men were painted all around and Leveret wondered again about her last journey and what hidden messag
es it may have contained. She recognised Magpie’s handiwork in the clever design of blossom and birds that chased around the upper parts of the stones, and the enormous and wild Green Man gracing the largest stone behind the Altar Stone was definitely his. She saw Magpie in the crowd, his butterscotch-coloured hair gleaming, and sent her love to him. It didn’t always work, but sometimes they picked up each other’s thoughts from a distance. He turned, and immediately locating her in the shadowy circle, beamed her way.
It was a shock to many when Yul appeared, not in resplendent leafy attire, but dressed in a general green cloak and headdress, with Sylvie by his side in plain white robes. Then a small Green Man and a pretty May Queen emerged from behind the stones and stood on the Altar Stone whilst Yul led the ceremony, with help from the choir. Leveret wondered if this had anything to do with the fact that he wasn’t receiving any Green Magic, and presumably not sharing marital relations with his wife either. Both seemed requisite for him to perform his usual Green Man function at Beltane, so perhaps the break with tradition was due to that. It meant that when the sun rose from behind the May Sister and the Bel Fire was lit, the rays fell on a member of the community other than the magus. There was a swell of discontented muttering that made Leveret cringe on Yul and Sylvie’s behalf.
It wasn’t till later in the ceremony when she was up nearer the front that Leveret realised with a shock who was playing the part of the Green Man; none other than Swift. Yul and Sylvie stood handing out the mead and the cakes, making Martin superfluous other than as a pair of hands to top up the tots of mead. But the expression of pride on his face as he stood by the Altar Stone where his son was splendid in costume was obvious to all. As Leveret took the thimbleful of mead from Sylvie’s hand, their eyes met.
‘Beltane blessings, dear Leveret,’ she murmured.
‘Bright blessings to you, Sister Sylvie,’ Leveret replied and was rewarded with a grateful smile.
In contrast, Yul refused to look at her properly, and mumbled his blessing almost inaudibly as he handed her the cake. Leveret thought again of her vision and that beautiful, vibrant boy who hadn’t just dressed up in a leafy costume – he’d actually transformed into the Green Man. She recalled the dancing green light around him, the sheer magic that emanated from him. Leveret understood then that her healing skills would not only involve herbs and medicines for the sick, but also spiritual reparation for the dreadful illness that was infecting so many at Stonewylde. And not least her oldest brother.
The first dance on the Village Green had taken place – the glorious Maypole Dance, with the unique carved and painted tree trunk, and the host of maidens dressed in white. Leveret was glad she’d avoided getting roped into this humiliating event, where in the past she’d invariably got herself tangled up in the bright ribbons and cords, or tripped someone over by skipping to the wrong side. She watched from the crowd and was amused to see Faun doing her utmost to be the centre of attention. At thirteen this was Faun’s first dance – it was for maidens from thirteen up to sixteen – and the way she behaved, thought Leveret, it was as if Faun were May Queen herself.
She and Clip also watched the young men’s Dance of the Staves, which, this year, was particularly athletic. Leveret saw that neither her brothers nor Jay were taking part, and this didn’t surprise her as none of them were light on their feet. Being the Green Man, Swift couldn’t participate; he and his May Queen stood close to Yul and Sylvie, and Leveret guessed that this had all been planned to smooth away any awkwardness about the magus and his wife living apart. Leveret didn’t have access to any gossip now she lived in the tower with only Clip for company, but she could guess how tongues must be wagging about the unheard-of separation.
Rainbow had been busy all morning with a sketchbook and pencil, wandering around the Green and stopping to draw rapidly as something caught her eye. Now Leveret noticed her standing in the great circle of spectators and watched her pull out a camera and start taking photos. Leveret thought she seemed so busy snapping away that she was missing the dance completely.
The Jack in the Green, his face blacked up and his jaunty feathers and colourful tatters bright in the sunshine, gradually disappeared inside the cage of wooden staves, whilst the young men, all dressed in green with white ribbons fluttering and bells jingling, leapt around him. Leveret noticed Rufus dancing, his red hair so distinctive, and she caught sight of Miranda’s proud face watching her son leap and dip. Clip, standing close beside her, chuckled unexpectedly.
‘Do you know it was at Beltane I said to Miranda that she’d be having a baby soon and she laughed at me. And all these years later, here that baby is, taking part in the young men’s dance. And even funnier, in a way – at the same time as that, Sylvie asked me if I had any children and I said no, I’d never been blessed. And that was to my own daughter! What a strange and beautiful world it is.’
Leveret glanced up at him and squeezed his hand.
‘Sylvie’s lucky to have a father like you, Clip,’ she said. ‘I never knew my father, but I’ve heard he was a terrible man.’
‘Yes, he was,’ agreed Clip with a twisted smile. ‘But nobody can help their parents. In fact it’s all the more admirable if you turn out to be a decent person despite your bloodline, don’t you think? Talking of parents, have you seen or spoken to Maizie yet?’
‘No,’ said Leveret quietly.
‘Maybe you should try to—’
‘Not yet, Clip – unless I can’t avoid it. I just don’t feel ready yet.’
He nodded and then they both jumped as the fiddles, flutes and drums reached a crescendo and, in sudden silence, the dancers leapt up together and shouted, ‘Jack – ho!’
During the Naming of the Babies ceremony, Hazel edged up to Dawn and gave her a playful prod in the belly.
‘Are you intending to take part in this next year?’ she asked.
Dawn smiled happily and nodded.
‘I hope so, if you’ve taken out my hormone implant in good time and everything’s in working order,’ she said.
‘Well, the handfasting’s next week, isn’t it? The Hare Moon’s a week away, so come up any time and we’ll remove it. Does David want to start a family straight away?’
‘Yes, he certainly does. We’re both longing for children. We’re neither of us getting any younger and this isn’t something we’d ever thought would happen.’
‘Oh Dawn! You’re still a young woman – and he’s not exactly over the hill either. Wait till you get to my age – that’s when you realise that you’ll probably never be taking part in the Naming of the Babies.’
Her voice was wistful and Dawn sighed in sympathy.
‘You never know, Hazel. The Goddess moves in mysterious ways . . .’
Swift and Valerian, his May Queen, stood behind Yul and Sylvie as they sat on their thrones on the dais announcing the babies’ names, welcoming them into the community and handing out the silver charms to each mother.
‘I wanted the Green Man hisself to bless little Badger,’ muttered one of the mothers processing round the circle with her baby boy all dressed up in his finery. ‘ ’Twon’t be the same if ’tis just Yul with that Swift all greened up behind him.’
‘I know,’ said the mother next to her. ‘I feel the same. ’Tis a disappointment and no mistake. And look at Sylvie’s face! She looks like the skies have fallen in on her. What a shame, on our babies’ special day.’
‘I remember when I were a youngster, this ceremony was a real occasion. There’d be a huge crowd o’ mothers lined up with their little ‘uns all bedecked and beribboned. ’Tis as if now there are only a few of us, they can’t be bothered to do it proper.’
The last woman came up with her baby all dressed in white to be presented with her silver charm.
‘Bright blessings to Poppy!’ said Yul, flicking a glance at his list. ‘She’s a fine Lammas baby and we welcome her into Stonewylde. Beltane blessings to Poppy and all her family!’
He took the chubby little girl,
already sporting a couple of teeth and a ribbon in her top curl, and hugged her. Her face screwed up and she started to howl. Yul hastily returned the screaming child to her mother, who moved along to Sylvie.
‘We present Poppy with her ear of corn, the symbol of Lammas, and wish her a happy and healthy childhood,’ shouted Sylvie over the bawling.
The mother snatched the charm on its ribbon, knowing it would only upset her baby more to have something dangled round her neck, and stomped off from the dais. In the audience, Starling let out a bellow of raucous laughter.
‘I’d scream if Yul kissed me and all!’ she shouted. ‘The grumpy git’s enough to make anyone cry!’
There was some stifled laughter at this, and then the crowd broke up and all went into the Barn for lunch. Sylvie immediately turned on Yul, who’d decided to ignore Starling’s heckling.
‘You must stop Rainbow now!’ she hissed. ‘Don’t keep brushing me aside over this – she’s been doing it all morning and it wasn’t agreed on!’
Surreptitiously Swift leaned forward to adjust some of the leaves around his hem.
‘And neither was it forbidden!’ snapped Yul. ‘Stop being hysterical and leave the girl be.’
‘I’m not hysterical, Yul, and you know it. She’s overstepping the mark and we never said she could wander around taking hundreds of photos of everyone in the community. It’s an invasion of people’s privacy and I want it stopped. Would you prefer me to tell her?’
