Shaman of Stonewylde

by Kit Berry

  He looked down at her barely up to his chest, and smiled.

  ‘My pleasure. Tom was very happy to supervise the renovations and at least the cottage is secure now. The door’s been mended and re-hung, the windows open and shut and don’t let in the draughts, and the roof’s been repaired and re-thatched. They swept the chimney too and fixed the hearth so you can light a fire safely. All it needs now is a bit of a clean.’

  Leveret was almost reluctant to step inside but, with a deep breath, she entered Mother Heggy’s cottage. All traces of the plants and fungi she’d collected, the notebooks and bottles, and most importantly, the Book of Shadows, had been safely moved to the tower before the repairs began. The hovel was now empty except for the few bits of ancient furniture: the scrubbed table and chair, the large dresser, the settle along the wall and, of course, the battered rocking chair. But it no longer seemed a hovel, and today Leveret had brought with her a broom, cloths and beeswax. The other necessities would have to wait until Magpie could help her carry them up here. She hoped the little spring hidden in the hill nearby was still trickling so she could collect water.

  Clip eased himself slowly onto the chair and indicated the rocking chair.

  ‘Please be seated, Wise Woman,’ he said with a twinkle in his eye.

  Solemnly she put down the basket and broom and sat in the chair, sliding herself back until she was comfortable, and closed her eyes.

  The sounds of summer coming through the open door – the squeal of seagulls, the piping of larks and pipits, the drone of bees – receded and in their place came a rustle of old leaves, blowing slightly in the doorway.

  ‘Time to take the besom and sweep the place clean!’ came a voice, as dry as the leaves themselves. ‘Time to take your rightful place, my little hare. You’ve work to do and now it can begin. Only you can save our Stonewylde.’

  A breath of wind blew in from the door and touched her face, and then came a great ‘CAW’ and a wheezy chuckle.

  Leveret’s eyes flew open and met Clip’s wolf-grey gaze. He smiled at her and gave a chuckle himself.

  ‘Old Mother Heggy’s feet didn’t reach the ground either,’ he said. ‘I have no idea what she was like as a girl, but I’ll bet she was very similar to you.’

  ‘Did you hear the crow?’ she asked, her heart racing.

  ‘The crow? No, I don’t think I—’

  There was a scuttering noise from above and they both peered into the rafters. Leveret wriggled out of the chair and hurried outside, looking up on the roof. The new thatch gleamed in the sunlight, clean and straight like a combed head of thick hair. Scrabbling about by the chimney was a crow, and, as it turned, they saw a white tail feather. The bird paused and regarded them steadily. Leveret shivered and Clip laid a hand on her arm reassuringly. The crow then opened its huge beak and emitted a stream of loud, insistent CAWs that at first shocked her, but after a while made her giggle.

  ‘Alright!’ she laughed. ‘Enough, Crow – I get the message! Please, make yourself at home whenever you wish.’

  They were about to return inside but Leveret stopped.

  ‘Why don’t you wait outside whilst I sweep the place? It won’t take long and I don’t want the dust to irritate your lungs.’

  ‘Alright, that’s kind of you,’ he said. ‘But my cough has gone, in case you hadn’t noticed. I said it was just a winter thing.’

  ‘Maybe so, but I’ve heard your breathing at night time, Clip, and I don’t want to make it worse.’

  ‘That’s not a cough!’ he said. ‘That’s just old man snoring. But yes, I’ll stay and make Crow’s acquaintance if you like.’

  When the cottage floor had been thoroughly swept, Leveret called Clip in excitedly and pointed to the pentagram revealed on the flagstones. He nodded, not liking to tell her that this was the spot – in the centre of the pentagram – where Mother Heggy had been found at the Winter Solstice all those years ago. She’d probably hear it at some point, but no need to spoil her pleasure now.

  ‘I think I may come up here this evening for the Mead Moon,’ she said.

  ‘Would you like me to come too?’ he asked. ‘I had intended to go to the Dolmen, but—’

  ‘No, thanks – I think I should be alone for the first Moon Fullness I celebrate here,’ she said.

  ‘And you’re not scared? What about Mother Heggy’s ghost?’

  Leveret laughed at this.

  ‘She’s haunted me all my life,’ she replied. ‘Maybe once I start doing what she wants, she’ll leave me in peace.’

  ‘Alright, just so long as you feel safe.’

  ‘Mother Heggy is with me,’ said Leveret, ‘and I really believe she watches over me. I’ll bring her magical things back tonight – the things I told you I found hidden in the chimney alcove. Much as I love having them with me in the tower, they belong here. I shall cast a spell of protection around the cottage tonight and then they’ll be safe here.’

  ‘A good idea,’ he agreed. ‘And I shall do the same from the Dolmen. Don’t forget to bring your new headdress for the Moon Fullness, will you?’

  She smiled, her green eyes brilliant with excitement.

  ‘I shall go into a hare . . .’ she said softly.

  ‘May I see what he’s working on at the moment?’ asked Rainbow, impatiently watching the last of David’s class troop out of the Art Room for lunch.

  David rapidly scrolled through the slides ready for the afternoon’s class, ensuring all was ready and the screen correctly linked to his device. He too had been affected by the Imbolc Crash, as it was now referred to, and was trying to be very careful how he stored his lessons.

  ‘If he gives permission,’ he replied, wishing she’d leave him alone.

  Rainbow wandered nonchalantly around the room, picking up things and examining them, slowly making her way to the side room where she knew David stored the portfolios and canvases in progress. Today she wore a very thin cotton dress in a soft shade of coral pink. Her golden skin was tanned more deeply from the relentless sunshine, making her blue eyes appear even bluer. Her tawny hair was several shades lighter and wilder than ever, glinting with gold threads and falling in a great tangle down her back. She was beautiful and she knew it, moving with graceful, sinuous ease between the long art tables towards the side room.

  ‘Rainbow, no!’ said David sharply, realising her intent. He tried to head her off, dodging around the tables and colliding with her by the door. She looked deep into his angry eyes and raised her golden eyebrows.

  ‘No, David? Really? Are you going to stop me?’

  She moved towards the door and he tried to block her. She leaned forward to grasp the door handle and he grabbed her bare wrist. She was only centimetres from him and he could smell her heady scent. Her hair brushed his hand and she shook back her mane, laughing.

  ‘Do you want a tussle on the floor? No? Come on, David, I only want to see what Magpie’s up to at the moment. Why so secretive?’

  She wriggled forward, her wrist still in his grip, and her hip brushed against his. Angrily he flung her away and turned his back on her, defeated. She laughed again, a deep throaty laugh that mocked and yet invited.

  ‘Oh, don’t be so silly,’ she said. ‘And look what you’ve done to me, you brute!’

  His fingers had left marks on her wrist, which she rubbed hard.

  ‘We can’t have Dawn thinking you’ve been manhandling me, can we? Not quite the sort of thing a newly-wed man should be getting up to in the classroom.’

  She opened the door and stepped inside, looking around the room. She sniffed the oil paint fumes appreciatively and smiled, flicking through a rack of canvases. But then she stopped, and David heard her small cry. He scowled – she could hardly have missed the huge canvas propped against the far wall. He heard her whistle of delight and she summoned him to join her.

  ‘Oh don’t be so stuffy, David!’ she called. ‘I’m not going to pounce on you. Come in here and tell me about this.’

  Relu
ctantly, he entered the small room and stood beside her to gaze at the canvas that stood drying.

  ‘What’s to tell? You can see for yourself, surely.’

  ‘It’s . . . well, words fail me. Certainly his best work, and he’s so young! Makes you sick, doesn’t it? How long has this taken him?’

  ‘He started it just after Hare Moon – obviously – so less than a month. He’s almost done, but I have to stop him and make him slow down. I think if I let him, he’d just paint, with no food or sleep, until it was completed.’

  ‘Maybe you should let him do that and see what happens.’

  ‘Magpie needs caring for, Rainbow. Despite this extraordinary talent, mentally, he’s just a child.’

  ‘And has Sylvie seen it yet?’

  ‘No, and it’s a surprise, so please don’t breathe a word. Dawn says it’s her birthday at the Solstice and we thought maybe it could be presented to her then, during the celebrations.’

  ‘So, was Magpie actually there? I mean, is this a real scene or is it his imagination? I know that as a girl Sylvie used to be what was termed “moongazy”, whatever that meant, and it was supposedly the reason that Magus was so obsessed with her. Is this Magpie’s interpretation of moongaziness or what?’

  David shrugged.

  ‘Who knows? He can’t tell us, can he? I tried to find out when this had happened, and all he did was point to the moon and the hares, so I assume it happened at Hare Moon – and certainly that’s the theme here. But the figures – Sylvie and her little girl, the moon goddess as Mother, the hare in the moon and the owl – honestly, the whole thing is just breathtaking. And this strange bit under here, hidden deep inside the hill – what’s that all about? That’s one of the attractions of course – Magpie is a complete enigma and probably always will be.’

  Rainbow stood gazing and shaking her head. Then she took a deep breath and patted David’s arm.

  ‘Thanks, David. Sorry about the underhand tactics. No hard feelings, I hope? I promise I won’t spoil the surprise. I wonder if she’ll be up there again tonight, for the full moon? I recognise the place of course – we used to call it Hill Stone. Maybe I’ll wander up there this evening with a sketch pad and hope I get lucky.’

  ‘You coming down the Village to see the crones tonight?’ asked Jay as he shovelled shepherd’s pie down his throat.

  ‘Yeah, let’s do that,’ said Sweyn. ‘We want to ask them about our sister and see if they have any good notions about what we can do.’

  Gefrin was about to mention his need for some help with Meadowsweet, but then thought better of it. He didn’t want Jay getting ideas.

  ‘So you’re not going with Tansy again?’ he asked, scraping his plate clean and looking hopefully towards the serving table. In a minute they’d shout the call for seconds and he was ravenous.

  ‘Are you taking the piss?’ growled Jay.

  ‘No! Why?’

  ‘I thought I told you that weren’t going to happen again!’

  ‘No, Jay, all you said was Tansy—’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Jay snapped. ‘If you want to come I’ll be leaving as soon as we’re done here. I need a drink and a smoke tonight.’

  Sweyn and Gefrin’s eyes met and they both grimaced, but subtly. Jay was quite volatile enough without angering him further.

  ‘Mum, why can’t we go there again? Please? It’s the best, best thing ever!’

  ‘If you carry on like this, Celandine, you won’t come with me at all.’

  ‘But Mum, the Village Green isn’t where we should dance for the Bright Lady,’ said Celandine. ‘You know that – why are you pretending you want to go there? I don’t understand.’

  ‘Exactly! You’re too young to understand, and maybe that proves to me you’re too young to come moondancing at all.’

  Celandine was close to tears, plucking at the tablecloth hem compulsively.

  ‘For Goddess’ sake, child, don’t unpick that!’ said Maizie sharply. ‘What’s got into you? Any more o’ this nonsense and you’ll be sent to bed!’

  Celandine jumped up from her place and ran up to her bedroom, slamming the door.

  ‘She’s a bit young for that sort o’ moodiness, surely?’ said Maizie, pouring Bluebell another glass of milk.

  ‘Actually, I think I understand what’s wrong with her,’ said Sylvie. ‘I wish I could take her to Hare Stone again, but I think Yul may go up there tonight. He was angry I’d taken the girls there last month and he’ll probably try to check up on me.’

  ‘Why would he be angry, Mummy?’ asked Bluebell.

  ‘Oh Blue! I don’t know – I suppose he thought you were both too young.’

  ‘Silly Father! Course we aren’t too young. Can I come to the Village Green with you and Celandine tonight?’

  Sylvie sighed and shook her head.

  ‘We’ve already discussed this, Bluebell. If Celandine and I need to dance, then you’d be all on your own watching and you’d maybe feel a bit scared in the dark. Stay here nice and cosy with Granny this month and help her with the honeycombs. Another time, when Auntie Leveret can join us again to look after you – then maybe you can come.’

  ‘So why’s our Leveret not joining you tonight?’ asked Maizie. ‘There was a time I couldn’t keep the girl in at the Moon Fullness, try as I might. She’d be sneaking off, picking things and harvesting things and – oh!’

  Without warning she burst into tears. Bluebell jumped down from her chair and flung her arms around her grandmother, and Sylvie also gave her a hug.

  ‘Oh Maizie, it’s alright! She’s doing something with Clip I believe. You know all the magical stuff they get up to. Don’t worry, she’ll be safe.’

  ‘ ’Tisn’t that!’ sniffed Maizie. ‘I don’t like all that dabbling but I know she’s safe with him looking over her.’

  ‘What is it then, darling Granny Maizie? Why are you crying?’

  Maizie blew her nose.

  ‘ ’Tis just that I miss her so much.’

  Later, as the moon rose over Stonewylde and flooded the land with silver, Dawn and David lay in each other’s arms amongst the oak trees near the Stone Circle and smiled contentedly in the darkness. Dawn placed hers and David’s hands on her belly and whispered the words she’d heard as a child, words that seemed to work for others.

  ‘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.