Shaman of Stonewylde

by Kit Berry

  Clip agreed with this, and hung the black cloak on a peg on the wall.

  ‘Maybe you’d like to wear it when you next journey?’ he said. ‘It really is a very magical cloak, and it’s taken me to other realms many a time.’

  ‘I will, and you’ll be with me in spirit if not in person. I’ll keep Shadow well away from it too – he looks just a little too interested in all those feathers, doesn’t he?’

  Martin stood in the shadowy hall watching all the fuss created by the seven people preparing to leave and catch a train. They were oblivious of him, too wrapped up in their own worries about cases and clothes, tickets and toys. His eyes narrowed as he watched them, especially Clip, his cuckoo brother, the one who’d ousted him from his rightful place as their father Basil’s heir. His mother had assured him that the owner of Stonewylde had taken her virginity before he’d taken Raven’s. Nobody knew for sure exactly when Clip had been born; Raven and Old Heggy had hidden him away in the hovel for a while before his existence had been discovered. But Violet was adamant that Martin had come first and as eldest son, should have been the heir.

  He couldn’t wait until Samhain when Clip was leaving. Martin had all sorts of plans afoot, all types of contingencies covered, and was waiting to herald a new dawn for Stonewylde. He was determined to stop the rot and decay that had been rife since the murder of Magus all those years ago. Proper leadership was required, and a return to the old ways.

  The seven despised people left and, later on, Martin went upstairs to check on his master’s rooms. As he entered through the heavy door, he too was met with a presence, but unlike Sylvie, he greeted it warmly. The rooms were clean and polished and he’d had his goodwife place a bowl of flowers on the table. He checked the bathrooms were in order and the master bedroom made up with fresh linen. All was as it should be, the terrible mess made by that group of Outsiders brought in by Holly and Fennel now eradicated.

  He returned through the connecting chambers to the sitting room, and as he passed by he caught a glimpse of silvery blond hair in the great mirror. He too could smell that distinctive aroma of Magus’ scent and he paused for a moment to savour it. The scar on his temple throbbed; in a sudden explosion of fury he recalled that Winter Solstice when Clip had tricked him and had cracked him on the head with his Shaman’s staff. Martin had vowed to burn the staff and stuff the ashes down Clip’s throat; that desire was still there. He remembered Sylvie sitting in here in her scarlet cloak waiting to be rescued, whilst his poor master was lured to Quarrycleave and the serpent waiting for him at Snake Stone. So much treachery and betrayal! As for Harold, daring to lock him in here as he bled from his wound . . . with another throb of hatred, Martin vowed that Harold too would meet his just end, along with all the others.

  He hurried out of the rooms and downstairs, to pull on his coat and briskly make his way to see his mother. Samhain was fast approaching, the anniversary of when the summons had been made to the Otherworld. A year had almost passed since the veil had been rent aside and his master recalled from that shadowy place. Martin knew the lore that once a shade had been in this realm for a year and a day, it could not return to the Otherworld. It would once more take flesh, and he was ready to offer himself as host. Then the glorious days would begin again and the vermin would be cast out of the granary. He had made a list and was looking forward to working his way through it.

  He entered Old Violet’s cottage and found his mother dozing in her rocking chair, the fire crackling and a blanket tucked around her knees. He could smell the rabbit stew – all she cared to eat nowadays – keeping warm on the range. He wondered how she managed to dish it up herself and carry it to her chair in the evenings, for she was crippled and bent with arthritis. Mallow was here until early afternoon every day, but then returned to continue her duties in their own cottage. He decided to start sending her back down here every evening to serve his mother’s supper and put her to bed. The nights were drawing in and he wanted her warm and safe. The extra walk all the way back down to the Village every evening during winter would upset Mallow no end as she was always complaining how tired she was. Martin smiled cruelly at this; he’d work her to the bone and it would serve her right, stupid, lazy chit that she was. Plenty more where she came from too, especially once the master was back for good.

  ‘Your time is almost come,’ Old Violet wheezed, watching the expressions flitting across her son’s face. The firelight flickered and, as he turned to her, she could almost swear it was Basil himself. Silly fool he’d been – she’d soon dealt with him, once his brother Elm had been shown the moongazy delights he was missing. That Raven had met her match there, for Elm was a nasty piece o’ work, right enough; Violet chuckled to herself. She’d never been one to let folk get in her way, although Heggy had outwitted her at every turn. But no matter – now she could help her son finally take his rightful place at Stonewylde. Samhain was the time, and ’twas fast approaching.

  ‘When ’tis a mite closer, I must to do some baking,’ she said. ‘There’s no dear sister nor feckless Starling to help no more, and I’ll not have that mouse-wife squealing in my ear. You can help me, my boy. ’Twill be fitting and proper for you to help your old mother, the Wise Woman o’ Stonewylde, bake the cakes for Samhain and the Dark Angel.’

  Martin thoroughly enjoyed the following three days. Those whom he despised most were all away from Stonewylde together, for the first time ever. He would have liked to savour the experience more, but there was much to be done for the next phase of his plan. All too soon the driver who’d gone to collect them from the station returned, the large vehicle drawing up outside the porch. There was confusion and chaos as they tumbled out with their luggage and made their noisy entrance into the hall. Martin explained what he wanted and ushered the seven folk, all tired and bedraggled from London, up the great staircase towards Yul and Sylvie’s apartments. He was very excited, twitching with nervous energy, and wouldn’t brook any refusal.

  ‘ ’Tis a special surprise I arranged!’ was all he’d say, and nobody liked to disappoint him.

  The little girls were exhausted from their trip and the new and strange experiences they’d had, and the others weren’t much better. Everyone had been longing for a quiet return to normality. Miranda in particular was emotionally drained, and had been looking forward to a peaceful cup of tea in her rooms. Rufus had much to think about, and had been anticipating a long session on the Internet researching his new dream, whilst Clip wanted to see Leveret and tell her all the latest developments. Yul and Sylvie had enjoyed the closeness of being together constantly over three days and two nights. They’d loved feeling like a couple again and their daughters had basked in the warmth and happiness of their parents’ reunion.

  But, despite their reluctance, they all trooped obligingly up the stairs and Martin paused at the threshold to the grand apartments. The light was already starting to fade in the overcast October afternoon and the corridor was shadowy. Bluebell’s hand slipped into Sylvie’s and she shivered. Martin turned and smiled at everyone, and Clip recoiled at the expression in the man’s eyes as he spoke.

  ‘Welcome back to Stonewylde!’

  Martin threw open the door and they all went inside. The table lamps cast soft light around the room and a generous fire burnt brightly in the hearth. Clip was surprised to see people seated in there already: Maizie, Rowan and Faun. He wondered if this were some kind of Elders’ meeting, although others such as Dawn, Cherry and Tom weren’t there. Mallow hovered near the dumb waiter and when it pinged she jumped like a frog. As everyone found a seat, she brought a tea-tray over to the table and began to set out the cups for pouring. Everyone tried to ignore the rattling of cups on saucers as she did her best to steady her hands.

  ‘For Goddess’ sake, woman!’ hissed Martin and she flinched at his tone.

  ‘Do let me help,’ said Sylvie quietly, leaning forward.

  ‘No!’ said Martin. ‘Even she can manage to pour tea.’

  Celandine and
Bluebell, squashed between their parents on the sofa, exchanged looks of resignation at their plight. They’d been longing to run out and play on the Village Green after days of being cooped up.

  ‘Did you have a lovely time?’ Maizie asked them, feeling awkward sitting around like this. ‘I missed you both and so did the chickens.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Granny Maizie. It was all very exciting.’

  ‘Yes and our hotel had a television and a little fridge and air came out of a hole in the wall, but guess what – the windows didn’t open and—’

  ‘Enough tittle-tattle!’ said Martin sternly. ‘If you all have your tea and are sitting comfortable, I’ll tell you why you’re here.’

  Bluebell buried her face in Sylvie’s jacket as his wintry gaze swept the assembled group. Yul had been silent until now, bemused by Martin’s authority but trying to be true to his new promise to Sylvie; from now on he’d be a member of the community and wouldn’t dominate. But looking at the tired faces around him he had to intervene.

  ‘We’ve had a very busy few days,’ he said, ‘and we all need to unwind, especially my daughters. So please make it quick, Martin.’

  Martin glared at him and his thin face darkened.

  ‘I’ll take as long as I like, and no upstart—’

  The arched door opened suddenly and Leveret walked in.

  ‘Oh! Sorry – Swift just brought me a message to come here immediately. I . . .’

  ‘Come and sit down,’ said Clip to the bewildered girl. ‘Martin was just about to explain why we’re all gathered here so mysteriously.’

  ‘Aye, sit down and keep your mouth shut! I’ve brought you all here to show you once and for all that I can no longer stand back and watch the rot, the canker, the blight that has blackened Stonewylde for so many years. The time has come for me to—’

  ‘The time has come for me to return.’

  At the sound of the deep voice, everyone’s heads swivelled towards the interconnecting door leading to the other rooms. Mouths fell open in shock at the sight of the blond hair and expensive suit.

  ‘And how good it feels to be back at long last,’ he continued.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Yul demanded furiously, trying to jump up from his place on the sofa. He was wedged in by Celandine who’d jerked with surprise, and Sylvie reached across the children and grabbed his arm to prevent him rising.

  ‘No, Yul! Please, don’t do anything . . .’

  Buzz walked across the room to the fireplace where all could see him. He stood with the flames dancing behind him and smiled at everyone, scanning the shocked faces.

  ‘What the hell am I doing here? Good question. I could ask the same of many of you. These were my father’s rooms, and I have every right to be in them. Thanks to Martin I’ve come back – only to find that Stonewylde has been run into the ground, ruined and laid waste. All the hard work and dedication my father poured into the estate has been wasted, squandered by poor leadership and lack of skill.’

  ‘Absolutely not!’ spluttered Clip. ‘We’ve actually—’

  ‘But no longer! I’m here now and—’

  ‘You may be here now, but you won’t be staying!’ said Yul, shaking with suppressed rage. Sylvie still held his arm and could feel him tremble. ‘I don’t know why you think it acceptable to come back now, when you were banished and have never been invited back. But—’

  ‘Oh, but I have been invited back,’ said Buzz smoothly. ‘Martin’s invited me back, and he assures me there are many at Stonewylde who’d welcome a return to the old, proper regime.’

  ‘Aye, the old regime!’ cried Martin, capering across the room to stand next to Buzz. He was tall, thin and old, and looked particularly so next to the younger, stockier man. ‘We’re getting rid of the upstarts, the bastards and cuckoos! We’re—’

  ‘We’re going to see a rightful shake-up,’ said Buzz. ‘I’ve come back with a great deal of money to put Stonewylde to rights again. I shall repair all the damage you’ve inflicted over the years, and once more swell the coffers and the granaries. My father left the running of his business to me, and now I’ve returned to put everything right. By all accounts, just in the nick of time.’

  23

  Marigold stared at Cherry and Tom in consternation as they faced one another in the kitchens.

  ‘There’s someone up there, that’s for sure!’ said Cherry. ‘ ’Tis not just our Yul and Sylvie and all them who came back today. Another car arrived earlier and ’tis parked now out o’ sight round the back.’

  ‘Aye, and the Gatehouse said Martin were up there waiting by the gates and told ’em to let the car in!’ said Tom.

  ‘But who was in the car?’

  ‘We don’t know! Its windows are all black and you can’t see inside. But it must be someone Martin knows ‘cos he got in the car hisself and came back down to the Hall with ’em, so the Gatehouse said.’

  ‘But did nobody see who got out here?’

  Cherry shook her head.

  ‘Nobody saw them arrive and Martin must’ve sneaked ’em upstairs so quick! And then I had to send up a big tea tray.’

  ‘I reckon ’tis Hallfolk back. And I reckon as there’s so much o’ this secrecy that ’tis Buzz this time around.’

  ‘Oh Goddess! What shall we do?’

  The three of them stood on the worn flagstones of the kitchens paralysed with indecision. Daylight was fading fast and Marigold turned the lights on.

  ‘I think we should leastways get Edward up here – and be ready to go in and help if we’re needed,’ said Cherry.

  ‘Aye – Yul and Clip are in there, and Miranda, Maizie and Sylvie. But why Rowan and Faun? And the children?’

  ‘Well, Cherry – you and I are Elders,’ said Tom. ‘Shall we go up and see what’s afoot? Martin’s been acting very strange of late.’

  ‘Aye that’s true, but you can’t just barge in there,’ said Marigold. ‘No, I think we should ask Edward to come just in case there’s trouble. But even if ’tis Buzz back, he won’t be staying.’

  ‘Can you imagine Yul letting Buzz stay?’ mused Cherry. ‘He vowed to kill him once, and after what he said at the meeting that time, I don’t reckon much has changed there.’

  Inside the grand apartments, the atmosphere was as taut as a high-wire. Buzz still stood with his back to the fire smiling genially at the assembled group, whilst Martin fidgeted from foot to foot. Mallow huddled in the corner, and everyone else was seated.

  ‘So, are you my half-brother then?’ asked Faun, staring at the big blond man in the well-cut suit. ‘Mother said I have a brother called Buzz.’

  ‘That’s right! It’s a pleasure to meet you, Faun – how lovely to have such a beautiful sister.’

  Faun dimpled prettily at this and wriggled in her chair.

  ‘It’s nice to have a brother who thinks that,’ she said boldly. ‘The other two don’t.’

  ‘Ah yes, and this must be Rufus?’ Buzz turned his gaze to the boy who blushed scarlet through his freckles. ‘A pleasure to meet you too.’

  ‘Hold on a minute!’ said Yul sharply. ‘This isn’t some bloody family reunion! You have no—’

  ‘Actually it is a family reunion,’ said Buzz, his pale blue eyes fixing on Yul with dislike. ‘Faun’s right – she’s my sister and Rufus is my brother. I’ve never met them before, and that’s partly why I’ve come here.’

  ‘You may be Rufus’ half-brother,’ said Miranda, ‘but we want nothing to do with you. You were sent away by your father because you attempted to strangle my daughter, so don’t try to pull the kindly brother act now.’

  Buzz gazed at her, his smooth skin darkening slightly, but he maintained his expression of benign calm.

  ‘Oh come, Miranda – that was all so many years ago! Surely we can all be forgiven for youthful folly? You of all people should be aware of how easy it is to make mistakes when young and passionate! Besides, I know she’s forgiven me, haven’t you, Sylvie?’

  He turn
ed his blue gaze on her, a smile playing on his small mouth, and Sylvie’s cheeks stained an ugly red.

  ‘The old regime you spoke of is well and truly dead,’ she replied shakily. ‘You’re not welcome here.’

  ‘Speak for yourself!’ said Rowan. ‘As far as I’m concerned, any true son o’ Magus is welcome here!’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ cried Maizie. ‘Are you saying my Yul isn’t Magus’ true son? Because—’

  ‘Please, everyone, stop!’ said Clip. ‘This isn’t getting us anywhere. Buzz, I appreciate that Martin has invited you back and has perhaps given you a false idea of the situation here at Stonewylde. I can assure you it’s not all doom and gloom, and it’s—’

  ‘Oh yes it is!’ said Martin. ‘The whole place is—’

  ‘Martin, please! That’s enough!’

  ‘No ’tis not! You got no right to tell me what to do, son o’ Raven! No right at all. My mother—’

  Buzz laid a heavy hand on Martin’s arm.

  ‘Martin, perhaps this isn’t the time for that right now – not yet. Maybe I can finish what I’m trying to explain to these good folk?’

  Martin flushed but closed his mouth and looked down at his feet. Buzz smiled and his eyes fell on Celandine. He winked at her and she quickly looked away. Sylvie’s breath caught in her throat and she felt Bluebell stiffen next to her.

  ‘Buzz, I have no wish to be unpleasant,’ said Clip, ‘but you can see that your presence here is upsetting for many. You’ve come here without an invitation, despite whatever Martin says, and it was wrong to sneak in when we were all away. That was underhand and—’

  ‘Sneaking is not something I do!’ said Buzz sharply. ‘Any subterfuge involved was out of sheer necessity. I tried a direct approach earlier this year via your office boy. I’ve e-mailed and I’ve phoned, politely requesting a meeting. But I was rebuffed, refused, without even the decency of a proper hearing, and that’s why I’ve had no choice but to resort to this unannounced visit.’