Shaman of Stonewylde

by Kit Berry

  ‘No, no, not dig!’ Rufus said excitedly, his dark brown eyes dancing. ‘There’s definitely a gap between those boulders and I’ve read about this – sometimes they’d roll a stone across the entrance to seal it up. They wanted to keep out any wild animals that might smell the body or the bones that had been laid inside. So we wouldn’t have to dig at all – just shift the rock perhaps, and only a little bit to make the entrance large enough to squeeze inside.’

  Sylvie smiled at his enthusiasm. He was as passionate as the dear old professor had been. If only he’d lived to see Stonewylde now, she thought. He’d have loved Rufus, and little Ioho too.

  ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it,’ she said, with a final glance around the dark room. ‘If you want to take anything back to your room, please feel free. I know you’ll take care of it. This stuff has sat here since he died over fourteen years ago, and as I said, I’m sure he’d love the thought of you taking an interest. He was such a lovely man and you’d have got on well with him.’

  ‘What’s wrong, Leveret? You’re looking peaky,’ said Maizie, her gaze flicking around the circular room at the top of the tower.

  Leveret shrugged, feeding fresh salad leaves to Hare who sat contentedly across her lap.

  ‘I don’t know . . . something doesn’t feel right, but I don’t know what it is. I’ve tried everything I know but it seems that I’m not to be shown what lies ahead.’

  ‘You look tired,’ said Maizie.

  ‘Yes, I’ve been sleeping badly, with horrible nightmares.’

  ‘Nothing worse than that for putting a body out of sorts,’ said Maizie, sitting herself down with a sigh. ‘Our Bluebell’s been having bad dreams too, waking up the whole household with her screaming every night.’

  ‘Poor little Blue – that must be hard with Ioho too.’

  ‘Aye, ’tis. She’s jumpy as a frog, blinking and fretting and chanting her alphabet all the time, which is plain rude, and she’s started bed-wetting too. I even caught her at the range the other day with the door wide open trying to set fire to something! She very near burned herself and she wouldn’t tell me what she were up to. I don’t know what’s got into the child lately. I told Sylvie it sometimes upsets the older ones when a new babe comes along, but I’m not sure ’tis that . . .’

  ‘Why doesn’t she come here and stay with me for a bit?’ suggested Leveret. ‘We can keep each other company and maybe she’ll tell me what’s bothering her.’

  ‘Violet, if you don’t stop this we’ll have to move you into a room even further away from everyone else,’ said Hazel firmly. ‘It’s got to stop.’

  The stream of invective that poured from the crone’s mouth sickened her and she raised her eyebrows at the nurse standing by.

  ‘Where’s that maggot-spawn girl? Send her to me! I ain’t got my scrying bowl no more and I need to know what’s abroad!’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re on about, I’m afraid,’ said Hazel, glancing through the medical notes.

  ‘Did she find the toad-bag?’ screeched Violet. ‘Stupid bitch doctor – just answer me that! Old Heggy put ‘un round the cuckoo maiden’s neck to protect her and it burnt my hand – see? I still bear the marks to this very day and Heggy done that with her toad-bag!’

  ‘Really?’ said Hazel, nodding to the nurse preparing the syringe.

  ‘Aye, the Moongazy Maiden wore the toad-bag and it were from that whore Raven, all crammed with magical charms o’ protection! And it burnt me when I laid hands on her to cut out her tongue and I threw ‘un off. But then I couldn’t find it and all these years it’s lain up there, spoiling my taint, keeping my spell at bay! ’Tis a powerful talisman, that old bag o’ charms.’

  She glared up at the nurse, who silently handed the syringe to the doctor. There was a little struggle as Hazel began to roll up her sleeve, revealing a stringy arm, the withered flesh hanging off in folds of crepe. Old Violet wriggled impatiently.

  ‘Just keep still, please,’ said Hazel soothingly.

  ‘You ain’t listening!’ cried the old woman. ‘Nobody listens to me no more and you’ll all rue the day you packed me away here! That child, the curly one with blue eyes, she’s a-doing my bidding right enough, afore the Black Moon.’ She stopped, an evil grimace spreading over her face. ‘And when the girl takes the toad-bag off the hill, Raven’s protection is gone, finished . . . my spoiling and my tainting will . . .’

  Her eyelids fluttered and her chin slumped to her chest. A rattly snore escaped her toothless gums.

  ‘I think she’s deteriorating,’ said Hazel, handing back the empty syringe. ‘She’s talking complete nonsense now and she’s vicious with her tongue. We’ll up her medication a little – I don’t want her ranting and raving like this again. It’s really not fair on all the other old folk.’

  ‘Yes, Hazel,’ said the nurse. ‘Old Violet terrifies me – all of us – and I agree with you. She’s been getting much worse recently. We need to keep her nice and quiet for everyone’s sake.’

  Sylvie sat in Maizie’s rocking chair day-dreaming, baby at her breast. She had the cottage to herself and was enjoying the brief spell of peace. Her gaze swept the familiar white-washed walls, the old oak floor-boards, the hearth with its besom tucked neatly into a corner. She was happy here, but earlier that morning as she and Yul lay in each other’s arms watching the sunlight creep into the bedroom, they’d discussed the future and whether or not to remain in the cottage. He’d mentioned the new building programme in the Village and had asked if she’d like him to build a home for the family.

  Sylvie had snuggled more deeply into the crook of his arm, warm and safe, her hair spilling across his chest. Ioho had finished his early morning feed and was tucked back in his crib, and nobody else was yet awake. Yul had kissed her tenderly, his fingers stroking her milky skin, his face nuzzling her hair.

  ‘I could build us a beautiful cottage,’ he’d said softly, ‘and it would be yours to decide on, what you’d like, how you’d like it set up. The garden would be laid out exactly as we chose, with our own chickens and beehives, and even a pig if you wanted to be really traditional. And I’d make you a spinning wheel and a loom, and—’

  Wriggling out of his embrace to reach his lips, she’d silenced him with a kiss. Then she’d pulled back a little so she could gaze at him, and she’d seen his love, his tenderness, his kindness, all burning so very brightly in those deep grey eyes. She’d bent to kiss him again, her lips tingling where they brushed the dark stubble on his jaw. His face was still hollowed, the cheekbones sharp, from when he’d been living in exile and loneliness after she’d sent him away. Her heart had jolted then at the thought of his absence. How had she ever not wanted him? All she longed for now was her beloved Yul constantly by her side. She resented every second he spent away from her, working on the estate.

  ‘That all sounds lovely,’ she’d said softly, ‘but it’d be an awful lot of work for you, wouldn’t it? Maybe for now we should just stay here and enjoy the time together. The girls missed you so much when we were living apart. Perhaps we could think about our own cottage next year, but enjoy this year first and stay with Maizie? I’m happy here and so are the children. Just so long as you don’t mind? I mean, the memories of your awful childhood?’

  Yul had held her gaze and she’d felt herself consumed by the blaze she saw within him.

  ‘You’ve banished any unhappiness, any bad memories, forever,’ he whispered. ‘That was all in another life-time, it seems. I remember you visiting me here for the first time, after that Samhain when I almost died. Mother had made me up a bed in the parlour and you came in and held me tight . . . I remember thinking then how I wished you lived here with me.’

  Sylvie smiled at this.

  ‘I remember that too!’ she said. ‘Leveret was a toddler and Maizie was a little embarrassed having me here, Hallfolk no less, but she was very welcoming. I recall thinking just how much I wanted to live here with you. Well . . . if you’re happy to stay, then let’s do
that, and think about our own cottage another time. We’ve got so much catching up to do, and I don’t want you labouring from dawn to dusk when we could be spending that time together.’

  With a gentle fingertip she traced a groove in his skin that ran down the side of his mouth, where his face creased when he smiled. He turned his head to kiss her finger and laughed.

  ‘What – are you discovering my wrinkles already?’

  ‘I love these laughter lines on you,’ she said. ‘I’ve noticed them starting round my eyes, but surely we’re too young for wrinkles?’

  ‘I’ll love all yours,’ he promised. ‘When you’re as shrivelled and dried up as last year’s apples, I shall still love you. Can you imagine us as a little old couple in our cottage, you with your knitting and me with my whittling, and all our grandchildren around us?’

  ‘I’ve only just given birth!’ she laughed. ‘Don’t wish grandchildren on me already!’

  Yul had smiled and pulled her down again so their mouths met, and they’d kissed as the sun pushed further into the room and filled it with brightness and warmth. And now, sitting here in the rocking chair, Sylvie thought dreamily of Yul and wished he were here instead of poring over the records with Edward, looking at the yields and projected figures. She decided that this evening she’d make a start on weaving the new linen for the shirt she planned to make him. She was keen to show him her new skills and be a proper wife, in the old Stonewylde way. She thought of the cottage he’d offered and it was tempting, but living here with Maizie was comfortable and easy, and she was still learning how to be a goodwife.

  Sylvie glanced down at Ioho, firmly attached to her and sucking strongly at her breast. She was so glad her milk was plentiful this time and that she was able to satisfy his hunger. He was such a good little boy, sleeping and feeding well. She was surprised to find that instead of being shut contentedly as he fed, his startling grey eyes with the darker rings around the pale irises were wide open and locked onto her face.

  ‘Are you looking at me, you darling boy?’ she said softly. ‘Have you been watching Mummy’s face as she day-dreams?’

  His gaze was so intense, so knowing. She smiled down at him with adoration, a gentle finger nudging back the wisps of dark hair on his forehead, already curling like his father’s. His eyebrows were winged exactly like Yul’s – he was such a beautiful little boy. A tiny hand with perfect fingernails reached up and curled trustingly around her finger. Ioho gripped her tightly as if they’d never be parted.

  ‘What’s going to become of you, I wonder?’ she whispered. ‘You’re destined for great things, I’m sure. A Green Boy growing up surrounded by such magic and so much love. You’ve made my life complete, little Ioho, and your father’s too. We’re so very lucky you came to us.’

  He continued to gaze up at her as she fed him her milk. Sylvie felt sure that he was communicating with her, telling her how much he loved her too, for his eyes never left hers. She sighed contentedly, thanking the Goddess yet again for such happiness. It was two days before the Black Moon, when their world would be shattered like a great mirror dropped on the cobblestones.

  33

  They all climbed the hill heading towards the massive sentinel stone that stood at the very top, as it had done throughout the ages. They were almost the same party that had come at Hare Moon, except for Maizie, who was organising the women in the Barn making summer hats, and Miranda and Christopher, who were busy setting up his hive at Woodland Cottage. Yul and Magpie carried the picnic, Shadow assisted Leveret, and Sylvie carried the baby. The girls brought Ioho’s blanket, a clean nappy and his sunshade, and Rufus had a spade, lantern and a crow-bar. Today Yul had promised that they’d try to move one of the stones in front of the chamber and perhaps squeeze inside. Professor Siskin’s notes hadn’t specifically said that there was a chambered tomb on this hill, but he’d suspected there was one somewhere on the estate, in keeping with all the other sacred sites. Rufus was very excited that – with Shadow’s help – it was he who’d discovered it.

  Bluebell held Leveret’s hand as they reached the outcrop of rocks and paused to get their breath. The little girl kicked at the ground and her face was red from crying; she hadn’t wanted them to come here today and had had a screaming tantrum back in the Village, and again in the woods just now. Yul had become angry with her, which only made it worse. They could have left her behind with Maizie or in the Nursery, but he’d wanted to make it a family party and little Bluebell would have been missed. He’d hoped she’d get over it, although looking at her tearful face now, he wondered if he’d been right to force her to join them.

  Leveret dropped to her knees and held Bluebell close, whispering in her ear.

  ‘Tell me, Blue. You can tell me what’s so bad.’

  But the child shook her head obstinately and even poked her tongue out, although Leveret couldn’t see that.

  ‘I understand you found something bad up here, but you said you’d burnt it, didn’t you? So whatever it was has gone now. Hasn’t it?’

  ‘I . . . I thought it would go. I thought I could save the day. But it didn’t work. It’s on the prowl now and it’s much worse than the Moonlight Man ever was.’

  ‘But what is it? I know it’s something to do with a toad because Magpie told me that night.’

  ‘No! He couldn’t have, because he can’t talk!’

  ‘I’ve had strange visions about a toad too, Bluebell. I didn’t understand what it meant – please tell me what you found. This toad might be something important.’

  ‘It . . . it was only a dirty old pouch thing on a string and . . . I didn’t see any toad at all,’ said Bluebell reluctantly. ‘I thought if I burnt it . . .’

  The party were now moving away; the plan was to eat their picnic up by the stone first and then come down here later to try and shift the boulder.

  ‘We’re on the move, Leveret!’ said Sylvie. ‘Come on, Bluebell!’

  ‘We’ll catch up in a second,’ said Leveret. ‘Bluebell’s just telling me something.’

  ‘I’m not!’ said Bluebell crossly. ‘I just want us to go home! We shouldn’t have come here today. Why is it the Black Moon? What’s that?’

  ‘Is that what’s been worrying you? You should’ve said! It’s a special Dark Moon and it doesn’t happen very often. Like the Blue Moon is a magical full moon when it’s the second one in a month, the Black Moon is when there’s a second Dark Moon in a month.’

  ‘I don’t like the Dark Moon anyway,’ said Bluebell, her voice catching. ‘So the Black Moon will be even worse.’

  ‘I know – most people feel like that,’ said Leveret gently. ‘Me and Yul – we’ve both always loved the Dark Moon and I think Ioho will be the same as he was born on one. But please don’t worry, Blue. The Black Moon will be fine.’

  ‘O, P, Q, R,’ chanted Bluebell, her eyes jumping from one clump of grass to the next. ‘S, T, U, V, W, X, Y, Z!’

  The picnic was over and Sylvie shook the crumbs from the cloth. Leveret snoozed on the rug with Bluebell cuddled up, thumb in mouth, dozing in the crook of her arm. They were exhausted, and Sylvie gathered they’d had another disturbed night in the tower, where Bluebell had been staying for a few nights. Sylvie gazed down at her daughter and sister-in-law, both looking so peaceful now. The little girl’s face was still puffy where she’d been crying again during the picnic, begging for them all to go back to the Village, much to everyone’s annoyance. It was a relief she’d dropped off to sleep now in the warm May sunshine. Sylvie thought she must bring Bluebell home today as it really wasn’t fair on poor Leveret or Magpie, expecting them to cope with her nightmares. It was a shame they’d started up again after being absent for so long. Other than Ioho’s arrival, Sylvie couldn’t understand what had triggered them.

  Yul, Magpie and Rufus had walked back down the hill with the tools and lantern. Celandine had been persuaded to go with them to watch, but she’d returned almost immediately. She’d spotted a papery snake-skin down by
the boulders and had shrieked in terror, running back in panic to where Sylvie, Leveret, Bluebell and the baby sat by Hare Stone. The adders were out of hibernation now, basking in the sun to warm their cold blood, the males fighting in their strange upright dance to win the female. Leveret had told them all this after Celandine had come back shuddering with dread at the thought of snakes nearby. Leveret had hoped to allay her fears but Celandine had said she was only making it worse, and she really couldn’t bear to hear about the horrible things.

  Celandine was still jittery and uncomfortable as she sat now with Sylvie, holding her brother in her arms and rocking him, for her own comfort as much as his. Her silvery blonde hair was almost as long as her mother’s and fell in silky strands around her arms, her curls outgrown. She was becoming so tall now, her limbs as slender as a foal’s, and in September she’d be leaving Nursery to start at the Village School. Sylvie found her really helpful with the baby. Celandine fussed over him like a little mother, helping to bath him, changing his nappies and keeping him amused. She was still a serious, thoughtful child; often she’d look up and Sylvie would see Yul in her smoky grey eyes.

  In the bright sunshine they all wore straw hats, and Ioho wore an adorable bonnet to shade his little face. Earlier on, as everyone sat eating the picnic and chatting, they’d all laughed when Rufus had said he looked like a flower with big white petals. Today, at one month old, Ioho had given his first proper smile and Sylvie’s heart had melted. She’d looked deep into her son’s amazing wolf-grey eyes, so like the grandfather’s he’d never know, and she’d poured out her love to him. He was so very special, so precious, and she felt truly blessed. Who’d ever have imagined this darling little boy coming into their lives and truly uniting their family? He was the alchemy of darkness and brightness made one, conceived at the Blue Moon and born at the Dark Moon, living proof of the harmony and balance between his parents. Gazing at the tiny boy, Sylvie felt that he was the reason she’d been brought to Stonewylde; a new life so magical and destined for such great things.