Shaman of Stonewylde

by Kit Berry

  ‘Well, let’s think about a fresh start, shall we?’ she said. ‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow maybe – or perhaps after Lammas when it’s quieter. Things feel different now, and we all need to start again. Certainly you must mend your relationship with Leveret. She’s such a lovely girl – we all adore her. Will you try?’

  ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘You’ll see what a different man I am now.’

  Clip carried Hare’s basket down the path from the Dolmen to the Hall as she was quite heavy now. Leveret took Clip’s drum and her headdress, and was quiet on the way back. Her mind was still in the magical place where they’d journeyed, trying to make sense of what they’d experienced. So much of her journey had been in blackness, which was unusual. Raven had failed to explain why, other than telling her to learn to use her other senses as sight wasn’t the only one, and a true seer had vision even in darkness. Leveret was slightly disappointed as she’d hoped for more insight at the Blue Moon. Clip seemed a little despondent too. He’d said something about making a sacrifice – killing the wolf and feeding the serpent – but Leveret got the feeling he didn’t really understand what he’d been shown on the journey either.

  When they got back to the tower, he handed the basket over to Leveret.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come up to Mother Heggy’s cottage?’ he asked. ‘I could carry Hare and then leave you in peace?’

  ‘That’s really kind, thank you Clip, but I’d intended to get Magpie to help. I mentioned it to Marigold earlier and she was okay with it. If you are, of course?’

  ‘Oh yes, Magpie’s an excellent companion. I’ll see you in the morning then. Bright blessings for the Blue Moon, my little Leveret.’

  Unexpectedly he stooped and kissed her cheek before leaving her by the courtyard. Leveret took the heavy basket and her hare headdress and looked along the row of terraced cottages. A light burned in most of them, as it wasn’t very late, and at Marigold’s she found Magpie waiting. He beamed at her and waved goodbye to Marigold and Cherry who both sat knitting.

  ‘I’ve put some sandwiches and a drink in his bag, Leveret,’ said Marigold. ‘Have a blessed Blue Moon, and take care of our lad, won’t you?’

  As they walked up the long path towards Mother Heggy’s cottage, Leveret reflected on the recent difference in everyone’s attitudes towards her and Magpie’s friendship. She recalled Maizie’s outrage when she’d gone into the woods with him at the Moon Fullness less than a year ago. She remembered all the taunts and teasing in school at her championing him, when others bullied and mocked him. Yet here were their adopted carers – Clip and Marigold – letting them go off together completely unsupervised at the Moon Fullness. Leveret guessed it was because they now thought of her as the Shaman; normal rules didn’t apply any more. She’d chosen the life of the celibate, so presumably nobody saw Magpie as a possible partner – he was now merely a friend. That was all she’d ever wanted him to be anyway.

  The brilliant moon rinsed them in silver as they made their way to the ancient cottage. It stood dark and solid on the silvery grass and, as they approached, Leveret was delighted to see Crow roosting in his favourite spot, tucked in where the chimney met the thatch. As she opened the door, which, since casting the spell of protection, she no longer locked, he lifted his head from beneath his wing and gave a great CAW! He was an intelligent bird and had recently become very tame, helped by the titbits Leveret fed him. If she were at the tower he’d fly onto the crenellated roof loudly announcing his arrival, although he never ventured inside. Whenever she visited Mother Heggy’s cottage he’d usually appear, and recently he’d begun to hop inside the cottage to join her. His favourite spot seemed to be perching on the back of the rocking chair, which made Leveret smile. He had to scrabble to hold on if the chair moved and it seemed such a funny thing for a crow to do.

  They entered the cottage with its lovely aroma of dried herbs and wood-smoke, and as the air inside was altered by their presence, Leveret thought she heard a sigh. They released Hare from the basket and she hopped over to her favourite spot by the settle against the far wall. As Leveret lit a candle inside the lantern, Crow strutted in through the open door, his white tail feather gleaming brightly. Magpie opened a drawer in the dresser and found his sketch pad and pencils.

  ‘I shall sit quietly inside the pentagram, Maggie,’ Leveret explained. ‘I’ve already had a journey tonight, so this will be more of a quiet meditation. I’m still hoping to make contact with dear Mother Heggy somehow.’

  Magpie nodded and smiled at her, settling himself down on his chair at the table.

  ‘Shall we get out both Books of Shadows?’ asked Leveret. ‘You can make sure ours is all up to date with the illustrations, and I’d like to have the old one in the circle with me. Maybe it’ll help summon Mother Heggy.’

  Carefully she removed the ancient leather-bound book from its cloth and placed it inside the circle marked out on the stone floor. She set it all up as usual, with small objects representing the elements at the five points, and lit the sticks inside the little fire-cauldron in the centre. She placed Mother Heggy’s sacred tools – the athame and gathering knife – on the old Book of Shadows, which formed an altar of sorts. There was no mead or cake, as she’d already had those with Clip, but Leveret had come to realise that all ritual was flexible, and it really didn’t matter if she deviated from a ceremony. She knew her most effective experiences with magic had been when she’d completely abandoned the formal ways and followed her own instincts.

  Magpie took the new Book of Shadows and opened it up, leafing through some of their entries. He was proud of his illustrations next to Leveret’s writing, but he frowned at her untidiness. Now his reading and writing were progressing so well, he’d started to find some of her work a little sloppy. He lit his own lantern and pulled it close so he could see the Book more clearly. Taking up an ink pen, he began to tidy some of her script by over-laying it with his own careful, artistic writing.

  Leveret sat in the circle ready to still herself. She pulled on the hare headdress, knowing that Mother Heggy would approve. Hare stood up in the corner, shook herself as a dog might, and lolloped over to join her. Leveret stroked the creature who climbed into her lap and settled down. Crow perched on the back of the rocking chair, his feet gripping the snarled wood, and blinked at her. Leveret sighed and threw a handful of herbs into the cauldron. Quietly she began to call on the elements and the forces of Stonewylde to enter her circle. She hoped with all her heart that tonight, Mother Heggy would finally join her.

  Martin and his wife left the ramshackle cottage at the end of the lane and walked up the track towards the heart of the Village. Mallow carried a basket containing empty dishes and many dirty rags, needing to be boiled clean. Tomorrow she must bring down more soap and cloths, and she’d have to pick up a new scrubbing brush from the Village Store on her way past. Then she remembered it was Lammas in the morning. They’d all be up at the Lammas Field at dawn and celebrating throughout the day, with a ceremony in the Stone Circle at sunset; the Village Store would be closed tomorrow. She wondered if Martin would want her to spend Lammas cleaning the cottage or joining him at the festival; whatever he decided, Mallow knew she must take food to the two old women in the morning. She was exhausted tonight and longed for her bed. She was worried about how she’d keep their own cottage up to Martin’s exacting standards if she were down at his mother’s all day, every day, and she fervently hoped that he’d make allowances at home.

  ‘You can miss the sunrise ceremony tomorrow,’ he said abruptly, as if reading her thoughts. ‘You need to be up very early to put our cottage to rights afore you leave for the Village, and you need to prepare our lunchtime picnic. I’ll be in the Lammas Field o’ course, for Swift will join the reapers this year. You can work at Mother’s cottage until ’tis time for you to carry the picnic up to the field for us, and after that you’ll return and continue your work at Mother’s. You must attend the sunset ceremony in the Stone Cir
cle of course, and put in an appearance at the feast and dance in the Great Barn afterwards. ’Twill be a long day, Mallow – do not let me down by slacking, will you?’

  ‘No, Martin,’ she replied. She hoped he might give her a little praise for her efforts today as she’d worked her fingers to the knuckle with all that scrubbing. The cottage was indescribably soiled, the residue of a lifetime’s neglect, and many a time today she’d had to fight back nausea at the sheer filth that she’d been forced to deal with. Old Violet terrified her and always had done, but Martin’s wrath terrified her more.

  ‘Go back home now,’ he said, ‘and make sure my festival clothes are laid out ready for tomorrow. I’m staying in the Village a while longer. No dawdling along the way! Don’t wait up for me – you should be asleep when I get back. Remember, I can always tell if you’re pretending.’

  As Martin and Mallow parted company in the Village, Sweyn and Jay were leaving by another path. Many couples were out on the Green tonight for the Moon Fullness, and many had gone elsewhere for some Blue Moon magic. Lammas was the traditional day for a boy to ask a girl officially to walk with him, and to exchange corn favours, ideally with both families’ blessings. Tonight on the benches and cobbled area outside the Great Barn there was a great deal of giggling and preening amongst the younger members of the community in preparation for this.

  Sweyn and Jay, however, were not interested in such things. They’d both drunk a great deal of cider in the Jack, and after relieving themselves copiously in a bush, they resumed their mission: to call on Mother Heggy’s cottage.

  ‘Will she be there?’

  ‘Dunno, but if she ain’t we’ll still get inside the place and see what she’s been up to.’

  ‘What if Clip’s with her?’

  ‘We’ll wish ’em bright blessings and be gone.’

  ‘I still don’t see why she gets a whole cottage to herself when there are families crowded in the Village,’ said Jay. ‘Don’t seem right to me.’

  ‘I know,’ said Sweyn. ‘That’s what I thought when I heard they’d re-thatched the place for her. I went up to have a look myself but . . .’

  He stopped at the memory of the unsuccessful visit, and involuntarily touched his forehead. It was still slightly tender to the touch but he’d reluctantly had it seen to by the doctor and was now on the mend. He’d conveniently forgotten that Leveret had shown concern; all he remembered was that she’d gained the upper hand when he’d attempted to visit the cottage. The thought of that abortive visit still made him angry; the magpie’s slimy droppings had proved very difficult to clean off.

  ‘Well, let’s hope she is there so we can make her see how wrong it is to hog the place to herself.’

  ‘Maybe she’s going to set up home with Magpie!’ sniggered Sweyn.

  ‘Don’t mention sodding Magpie!’ said Jay harshly. ‘I still can’t believe Uncle Martin made me and Swift go up the crones’ cottage the other day to sort out firewood and water and Magpie didn’t have to! Ain’t fair, that! And now the old boy says we have to go regular and do it.’

  ‘Magpie should take his turn,’ said Sweyn. ‘Swift told me about it and he weren’t happy neither. And he said you and him went up Quarrycleave with them models and photographers? What was all that about? I thought it were special to you, that place.’

  ‘Yeah, ’twere Swift’s fault. He told ’em about it and then they wanted me to show ’em as I’m meant to be the expert now. But it were a bloody disaster!’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘There was a raven that dive-bombed everyone and pissed off Finn, who used to be Fennel when he were Hallfolk. One o’ the girls – Goddess, they were skinny bitches, weren’t they? – saw an adder and got hysterical, and then that Faun, she were showing off and she fell off a rock and hurt her leg. And Holly – Aitch – was upset about the dust. It were bloody stupid the whole thing.’

  ‘Did you sort out where you’re going to take a girl at the Moon Fullness? You said—’

  ‘Yeah, I can see now how to get through the place and up to the Snake Stone. There’s a way up to the top by all the boulders. It’d be tricky in the dark, but I reckon if it were a really bright moon or you had a torch, you could do it.’

  ‘Should’ve gone tonight,’ said Sweyn. ‘It’s bright enough tonight and no clouds at all.’

  ‘Yeah, I didn’t sort it for tonight. I need to plan it carefully to make it work. ’Tis better if I wait till the autumn anyway . . .’

  They’d finally reached the chalky path that led up towards the cottage. It was a ribbon of moonlight glowing white against the dull grey of the grass, snaking away up the hill. From here, the smell of the sea was stronger although they could hear no sound from it. In the heavy silence, as they stopped to catch their breath, they felt the eeriness of the night all around them. Both of them suddenly shivered, despite the warmth of the air and the heat from their exertion.

  With slightly reluctant feet they continued up the path, going slower and slower. After a while, looming ahead of them, they saw the dark shape of the cottage with the paler thatch. The two small windows on either side of the door glowed softly. They stopped and gazed at it. Neither said a word, not wanting to admit to the feeling of dread that had seeped into their rather addled brains. As they stood there in the hush, the temperature suddenly seemed to drop. From behind them, a cold mist crept in and the bright moonlight became dim.

  Alarmed, they both looked up and saw the moon rapidly disappearing behind a dark, swirling inkiness, the brilliant disc dulling and then fading as the light was blotted out. The mist eddied around their legs, damp and cold, and then it was all around them and they could see nothing at all. Neither had brought torches as the night had been perfectly clear, but even torches wouldn’t have penetrated this thick fog.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ hissed Jay. ‘That were quick!’

  ‘We better go back,’ said Sweyn. ‘If we just go back down on the path we’ll find our way, but we don’t want to get lost up there, do we? Not with the cliffs close by.’

  ‘Yeah, let’s go back,’ said Jay. ‘We’ll get her another time. It ain’t worth risking our own necks just to give her a seeing to. Anyway, I already got other plans for her.’

  So having convinced themselves of the foolhardiness of continuing in the sea mist, they abandoned their mission. Carefully they retraced their steps back down the pathway to the Village, leaving Leveret and Magpie undisturbed in Mother Heggy’s cottage.

  ‘The little mites are worn out,’ said Maizie, as Yul and Sylvie came back downstairs, having tucked the girls into their beds in the cottage. ‘And they’ve to be up early tomorrow morning too, for the Lammas sunrise in the field. Have you two both got your robes ready for the morning?’

  She picked up the felt slippers she was working on and continued embroidering.

  ‘Mine are laid out upstairs,’ said Sylvie. ‘I always love the Lammas robes. The headdress they’ve made me this year is as beautiful as ever, despite the awful weather.’

  ‘Cherry said she’d make sure my robes are ready up at the Hall,’ said Yul. ‘She says she’s got rid of all traces of the Aitch invasion, although I’m still sleeping in my office at the moment. It’s as if there’s still a whiff of Hallfolk in the rooms somehow.’

  ‘Well, you know what I think on that subject,’ said Sylvie. ‘For me, there’s always been a whiff of Hallfolk in there.’

  Yul looked at her sadly.

  ‘You really don’t like those rooms, do you?’

  ‘No! I always said—’

  ‘Why don’t the pair o’ you take a turn around the Green?’ suggested Maizie, looking up over her sewing. ‘Seems to be a private conversation and you don’t want me being a cuckoo, do you? And ’tis a beautiful night . . .’

  Grinning like a couple of liberated teenagers, Yul and Sylvie let themselves out of the cottage and back into the moon-silver night.

  ‘Will you be warm enough?’ Yul asked.

  ‘I’ve got
my shawl,’ said Sylvie, and slipped her hand into his as they sauntered along the lane.

  They gazed up at the sparkling dome above, whilst bats flickered around them in a frenzy of activity. A barn owl flew silently along the lane towards them like a great pale ghost, and veered off into the trees. And all the while, the Bright Lady cast her gaze over Stonewylde, peering into every nook and cranny, seeking out every dark corner.

  They reached the Green where there were still people about. The Great Barn doors were open and a few people were inside, finishing off their preparations for the next day. The Jack in the Green was almost empty, but for a couple of men who sat over their game of dice. All the younger ones who’d been larking about on the benches had returned to the Hall, excited about the prospect of making it official the next day. A few older couples still strolled about and Yul and Sylvie joined them. Hand in hand they stepped into the ancient grove now known as the Village Green, where the Green Man magic was powerful and the Bright Lady danced for him in silver shoes.

  Leveret came out of her reverie slowly. She wondered if she’d actually fallen asleep inside the pentagram as she felt that quite some time had passed. Hare was sleeping in her lap and the fire in the cauldron had burnt down to a few smouldering embers. The small candles marking the five points of the pentacle had gone out, and, looking across, she saw that Magpie was asleep. His folded arms cushioned his head on the table, whilst the crow had vanished, presumably through the door that still stood slightly ajar.

  A little stiffly, Leveret rose from her cushion and stepped outside the circle, not bothering to dismiss any energy, as she could feel it had long gone. She carefully put Hare in her basket, and rolled out a heavy rug and blanket onto the floor next to the settle. Magpie would have to sleep on the rug as he was too tall to comfortably stretch out on the settle. Before she awoke him, Leveret stepped outside the cottage and stood gazing at the night. It was perfectly clear, the moon a brilliant white disc high in the sky, the sea a distant gleaming strip on the horizon. Leveret breathed deeply of the Blue Moon magic, her heart heavy.