by Kit Berry
‘Aye, but why now? You’ve lived there since you were handfasted – what . . . eight years ago?’
‘And I never wanted to live there! I said so from the start but you know how Yul always gets his own way! Honestly, I don’t want to sound disloyal but he’s awful at the moment. I simply can’t take it any longer!’
Her face crumpled and she started to cry silently, haunted by the memories of Yul’s increased drinking and aggression, and his regular insistence on her fulfilling her wifely duties. Maizie leaned over and hugged her, gazing sadly over her head at the white-washed wall that had once sported a nail and a dark, coiled whip. Her poor son – surely he deserved happiness? But she also knew that nobody loved Yul more than Sylvie and she wouldn’t be asking this lightly.
‘Right enough, you and the girls can come here for a while,’ she said. ‘But you must promise me it’s just for a stay, not forever. You and Yul . . .’
She stopped as sudden tears choked her throat too.
‘I know, I know,’ sobbed Sylvie, trying to pull herself together in case the girls burst back in. ‘Believe me, I want things to be right between us. But it’s been bad for a while now . . . right back since Samhain I think. He’s not my Yul any more. He’s a different man – cold and cruel – and I can’t bear to be with him when he’s like that.’
‘Dry your eyes,’ said Maizie gently, stroking Sylvie’s shoulder and feeling quite horrified at its angularity. ‘ ’Twill all work out in the end, that I do know. You and Yul were destined to be together – ’tis unthinkable for you to be apart for long. Nothing in this life runs smooth all the time and everything goes through darkness as well as brightness. By Beltane we’ll have it all better again between the two o’ you.’
‘I do hope so,’ Sylvie gulped, blowing her nose and brushing the tears from her eyes. ‘I can’t stand this – I just want my old Yul back again. And thank you, Mother Maizie. The girls will be so pleased – it’s been difficult for them too.’
That evening in the Dining Hall, all talk was of the newcomer to Stonewylde. Most of the youngsters had little or no recollection of Rainbow or any other Hallfolk; amongst the adults, feelings were divided about her return. Hardly anyone had actually seen her arrive. Alerted by the Gatehouse, Martin had been waiting and had shown her straight to the bedroom he’d allocated her. Hazel had then taken her down to the Village to Dawn’s cottage, next to the School House, and David had joined them for dinner. They were all still there, hence the excited speculation now in the Dining Hall.
‘I met her,’ said Swift quietly to some of the youngsters on his table.
‘So what was she like? What did she say?’
The girls in particular were agog for details. Swift flicked back his long straight fringe and shrugged.
‘She was okay, but not what I’d imagined. She just stared around her as if she couldn’t believe it all.’
‘What was she wearing?’
‘Was she really beautiful?’
‘Had she brought loads of paintings with her?’
The questions came thick and fast and Swift smiled, enjoying his moment of importance.
‘She’s pretty hot. She’s got wild blonde hair all over the place. She was wearing a long bright skirt and she had bare legs and arms and loads of jewellery. And she can’t have brought any paintings because she only had one bag. She can’t have many clothes, in fact, if that’s all she brought for three months.’
‘Is that how long she’s here for?’
Swift nodded.
‘How come you know so much?’
He smiled again and tapped the side of his nose.
Upstairs in their apartments, Yul and Sylvie glared at each other across the dinner table. The girls were in bed, finally asleep. They’d spent the evening in great excitement packing their knitted animals and rag dolls into a big wicker hamper, along with their books, pencils and paper.
‘You can’t do this.’
‘Yes I can. We’re going tomorrow morning after the ceremony.’
‘I won’t let you. I’ll speak to Mother.’
‘It’s too late – she’s agreed. We’ll be company for her now she’s all alone without Leveret.’
‘Nobody’s even asked me about Leveret.’
‘Why should they? It’s not up to you. Clip and Maizie have agreed between themselves that the best place for Leveret is with him, in the tower. She’ll be out of harm’s way there and he’s going to keep her really busy with her studies. Maizie’s happy not to have the worry of her and Clip’s happy to have a protégée. There’s no need for you to be involved, is there, Yul?’
He frowned and Sylvie resisted the urge to lean across the table and stroke the lines from his forehead. His face was lean and angular, his hair long and rather unkempt. He looked desperate, and so vulnerable. She steeled herself; this had happened before and she’d regret it when he turned off the vulnerability and bit her hand with a snarl.
‘Are you leaving me because of Rainbow?’
His voice had a different edge and Sylvie sighed and closed her eyes, shaking her head.
‘That’s it, isn’t it, Sylvie?’ His accusation sounded almost triumphant. ‘You’re annoyed because for once you’re not getting your own way and—’
‘For once? Yul, I never get my own way!’
‘So because Rainbow’s coming to stay for a few weeks to do some painting, you’re leaving me and taking the children away from their home.’
‘Oh for goodness’ sake! I’m not exactly leaving you and it’s certainly nothing to do with Rainbow.’
Yul stood up abruptly, making Sylvie jump. He abandoned the dinner table and took his glass and wine bottle over to the sofa. Sylvie loaded the dishes into the dumb waiter, realising with a jolt of pleasure that this would be the last time she’d do this for ages.
‘Why are you so against her coming back? What is it about Rainbow that bothers you?’
‘I don’t want to discuss it, Yul,’ she said wearily, closing the panel and pressing the button for the tray to descend. ‘We’ve talked about it too much already and I’m sick of the subject. You know I hated the idea of her coming back. Yet you deliberately went against my wishes in public at the Elders’ Meeting and humiliated me. Nothing we say now will make any difference.’
‘And this is your revenge – moving out and taking my girls away from me.’
‘No, it’s—’
‘It’s your way of humiliating me in return! What’s everyone going to say? The magus can’t even keep his own wife by his side? What sort of a husband is he that she has to go running off to his mother? How do you think it’ll make me feel?’
She looked down at him as he slumped in the sofa, glass in hand and his face mottled now with anger and self-pity.
‘I don’t know and to be honest, Yul, I don’t really care. You haven’t thought about my feelings much in the past few months and I need a break from you. I’m going to have a bath now and an early night. Don’t drink too much – remember it’s the sunrise ceremony tomorrow and you need to be on better form than you were at Imbolc and the Winter Solstice.’
‘Yeah, stick the knife in, why don’t you?’ he muttered to her retreating back, pouring himself another drink. He glared at the ruby liquid, tormenting himself with the image of Sylvie undressing and slipping into the foaming water. He sighed and tossed back the wine. If this was to be their last night together for a while, he’d better make the most of it.
Clip stared into the flames burning in the hearth. He should really be up at the Dolmen now, spending the night in vigil ready to greet the sunrise at the Equinox. He’d half planned to go up earlier this evening but in the end decided against it. He stretched his thin frame, curling his bony toes in their felt slippers and making all his joints crack. Clip was really feeling his years now and looked older than he should. His wispy silver hair, now straggling down his back, added to the illusion of an old wizard but in fact he was only in his fifties.
He sig
hed heavily and, pulling on his reading glasses, once again picked up the wad of papers recently arrived from his lawyer prior to their intended meeting later in spring. It was all so complicated and made his head ache. He scanned the pages of closely-typed legal jargon and yawned. It was important to get the handover of the estate right. His gaze wandered easily from the paper as his thoughts drifted back to Sylvie’s visit earlier on. She’d seemed jittery, but that was normal nowadays; even he could see that she was thinner and looking careworn. When she’d explained that she’d just seen Maizie and would be moving into the Village with the girls the next day, Clip had felt a strange sense of relief. He couldn’t understand why, but knowing she’d be out of the Hall had made him glad. He didn’t press her for an explanation although her stumbling excuse about wanting to keep Maizie company rang false to both of them.
‘Is Leveret really happy living here with you?’ she’d asked.
‘She is – and so am I,’ he’d replied. ‘The situation after Imbolc was impossible and I couldn’t let the poor child suffer any more. None of it was her fault, you know.’
She’d nodded at this and bowed her head.
‘There are things going on . . . I feel Leveret’s got caught up in it all through no fault of her own. It’s so good to know you’re caring for her, Clip. She’s a strange girl and I’ve never managed to get close to her, but . . .’
‘You should try!’ said Clip. ‘Really, Sylvie, she has a true heart beneath that difficult exterior.’
‘I realised that when Celandine and Bluebell took to her,’ said Sylvie. ‘But she’s never let me in. I did try just after Imbolc, when Yul was ranting and raving and Maizie was so upset and angry. I tried to tell her that I was on her side but she wouldn’t open up to me.’
‘I know,’ he said sadly. ‘She was in a bad way after what happened and she didn’t know whom she could trust. I’m just glad that Maizie agreed to let her stay here with me. If Yul had had his way . . .’
‘Don’t!’ she said with a shudder. ‘Thank Goddess you intervened and took her under your wing. And I’m so pleased you’ve decided to keep her here. Originally it was only to be until the Equinox, wasn’t it?’
‘To be honest, I’d always hoped to keep her with me until I leave this autumn,’ he replied. ‘But I didn’t say so at the time because I thought Maizie might baulk at that. She’s so ambivalent towards the girl – she obviously loves her very much but she won’t recognise Leveret’s innocence in all this business.’
‘I know Maizie’s been very hurt by what she sees as Leveret betraying her trust,’ said Sylvie. ‘But at least this way she knows Leveret’s being well cared for and she doesn’t have to worry for her welfare. We must try to reunite them at some point – the whole situation’s ridiculous.’
‘It’ll be good for Maizie to have you and the little ones living with her,’ said Clip. ‘It’s a splendid idea. Will Yul be staying in the cottage too?’
Sylvie’s face clouded. Her beautiful silver-grey eyes, darker ringed around the irises, met his.
‘No, Clip – not for the foreseeable future. I think you know that things aren’t good between us. I need to get away from here and think about it all.’
He’d nodded, not wishing to pry. And now, scanning the papers in his hand, he wondered about Sylvie and Yul’s future together. They’d always seemed destined for each other, such a perfect pair. But something had changed. Yul was driven nowadays, brusque and aggressive. He reminded Clip more and more of his late brother Sol, which must be hard for poor Sylvie to cope with. She bore the brunt of her husband’s mood-swings and ill-temper. Clip couldn’t begin to imagine how it must feel to be married and forced to put up with another person’s behaviour; in his opinion being single and celibate was one of the joys of being a shaman. He recalled the conversation he’d had about this very subject only recently.
‘Can I really never be married or have children?’ Leveret had asked as they warmed up a pot of soup over the fire in the Dolmen. Living with her made Clip pay more attention to the need for food, which he guessed was probably a good thing. Stomach pains were still the bane of his life.
‘It’s not so much that you can’t, as that you’ll be a better shaman if you don’t,’ he’d replied. ‘Having a partner and children takes an enormous amount of your time and energy, as well as your focus. You could of course have those things and go on to be a successful healer and seer – but I don’t think you’d ever really achieve your full potential as Wise Woman or Shaman. But don’t worry about it now, Leveret. You’re only just fifteen and those decisions needn’t be made yet.’
‘No, but if I’m to be single and childless for the whole of my life, I think I should get used to the idea now, before the normal expectations really take hold,’ she’d replied. And, as ever, Clip was struck by her wisdom.
Knowing that she was asleep downstairs in her room on the ground floor filled him with satisfaction. Clip relished the role of mentor and guide, especially as she was such a brilliant pupil. Hes thought of the workload he’d piled on her these last seven weeks since Imbolc. So many books, so much study, yet she’d kept up with it, reading and learning and – judging by her responses during their discussions – understanding and retaining everything she read.
Tomorrow, thought Clip, that must start to change as she had to reintegrate into Stonewylde society. He’d have a chat with Miranda, as head-teacher, and arrange for Leveret’s classes to be cut significantly in areas where they wasn’t vital. Miranda must understand the importance of what the girl was learning here in the tower and how this would benefit the whole community one day. And now the days would be getting appreciably longer and the weather warming up, Leveret must go out daily to learn more of the Goddess and her ever-changing robes. She must become a herbalist – a cunning woman – and begin to brew her remedies and treat minor ailments. Clip thought of Hazel – he must arrange for Leveret to spend time with her as well.
He gazed once more into the flames as they licked lovingly at the wood. Yes, he should be up in the Dolmen now, but more important was to be here in the tower whilst Leveret slept. Ever since Imbolc he’d been vigilant, fearing for her safety after she’d been fed poison by those who wished her harm. Clip knew there were evil forces at work in Stonewylde and until he fully understood them, he must guard his young ward as best he could. There were challenging times ahead but eventually all would be worth it. This was the year when he’d gain his freedom; the year when he’d finally escape the clutches of this place. Stonewylde had always clung to him like an unwanted and demanding wife; it was a marriage he’d never sought nor agreed to, but somehow he’d become firmly shackled. And now, at long last, he could hand over all the responsibility – the stewardship to Sylvie and the role of Shaman to Leveret. As for Yul . . . hopefully he’d come to his senses and help share his wife’s and his sister’s burdens. This time next year, Clip thought gleefully, he’d be free, roaming the world wherever his spirit took him.
2
A crow flapped towards the oak woods beyond the Stone Circle, his bright eyes gazing down at the folk pouring into the arena. It was barely light with the sun not yet risen, and everyone was wrapped in warm cloaks and robes. By the Altar Stone stood the magus, bleary-eyed and pale, and beside him stood his tall, silver-haired wife in her green cloak. The crow circled and then landed on a standing stone in a flutter of black feathers.
More people swelled the crowds already there, murmuring quietly amongst themselves. At a nod from Yul, the drummers ranged around the perimeter began a low, insistent beat that bounced off the huge stones and filled the air. The atmosphere began to change, charging with energy that grew by the minute, amplifying throughout the vast circle and weaving in and around all the people. The amazing pattern of leaping hares painted above their heads on every stone, formed a carousel that seemed to spin with the sound until the hares were alive and dancing. The beautiful goddess of spring painted on the stone behind the altar, an egg in each han
d, smiled down on the folk of Stonewylde as they stood, swaying and nodding to the ever growing beat. Hearts thudded in unison with the deep reverberation of the drums, feet tapped in time, heads bobbed and souls synchronised until everyone present became attuned to the common purpose of welcoming in the Spring Equinox.
A large group of singers stood near the entrance, their voices joined in harmonious chant – which raised the energy still further. Yul’s eyes scanned the crowds and he was glad he’d insisted that most of the chanting was now performed by a choir rather than remain his responsibility. They’d been practising since Imbolc and would now do this at every ceremony, leaving him only to contribute the odd verse or two. He hoped this would help him focus on what really mattered – the Green Magic.
Yul climbed up onto the Altar Stone, closed his eyes and concentrated hard. The drumbeats throbbed in and around him and the life force of the folk packed into the arena shimmered. He tried, with all his might, to call up the earth energy that snaked underneath the soft earth floor of the ancient Stone Circle. He remembered lying here paralysed that Samhain, unable to move an eyelash but able to summon the energy to him. And now . . . he felt a flicker, a glimmer, but it wasn’t enough. He knew with a sinking heart that at the moment of sunrise, when the force should gather like a great dragon and pour up through the Altar Stone into his human frame – it would be merely a small, insignificant pulse.
He opened his eyes and looked straight into the eyes of the crow, perched unmoving on top of the stone. Just at the moment when the drumming stopped and the singers fell silent, the corvid opened its black beak and let out a mighty ‘CAW’. People jumped and many made the sign of the pentangle; Yul scowled at the bird’s inconsiderate timing but wondered if Mother Heggy were sending him a message. He scanned the moving lake of faces before him and noted with annoyance that two figures were hurrying down the Long Walk, late for the ceremony. One tall and one small – Clip and Leveret. They stood right by the mouth of the circle and Yul saw them both noting the crow standing sentinel. Sylvie frowned up at him and he realised he’d missed his cue for the chant. He scowled again and cleared his throat. The light was growing by the second and as the words began to fall from his lips, the sun appeared in the gap between the two stones where it rose every Spring Equinox.