Shadows at Stonewylde (56 page)

Kestrel had joined them and was rapidly becoming roaring drunk. He’d fulfilled his assignation with Honey earlier on in the hayloft, although he’d been too angry to do the lovely girl justice and would have to make it up to her another time. Now he just wanted to blot out the whole ghastly day and have a serious drinking session with his mates. They were full of sympathy for him, agreeing with his every complaint about the mad girl who’d been mistakenly chosen as Maiden. Sweyn and Gefrin tried to cheer him up with tales of the tricks they’d played on her over the years. They’d decided with Jay not to enlighten Kestrel as to the cause of Leveret’s bizarre behaviour all day. They didn’t think he’d see the funny side of it at all.

Jay was as drunk as Kestrel and on a high, feeling victorious and omnipotent. He thrilled with pleasure and power remembering how Yul had carried Leveret off screaming and kicking. That was his doing, putting her in her place like that – him and his great-aunt, Old Violet. They made good allies he decided; she had the knowledge and the potions, he had the muscle and cunning. Swift stood drinking with them too, sober compared to the other four but drinking more than he usually permitted himself. He too thought it had been a brilliant day; Yul had been totally humiliated.

‘And what about Old Violet then, when she said how Magus had always run things properly?’

They shouted with laughter.

‘Did you see his face when she said that? I thought he were going to explode!’

‘He looked such a bloody idiot, didn’t he? Black-haired bastard!’

‘Did you hear what people was saying? They agreed with Old Violet – I heard ’em all muttering.’

‘Well, boys,’ said Kestrel, swaying alarmingly and trying to drag them all into a huddle, ‘today has shown us that he ain’t the king he thinks he is. He makes stupid mistakes like allowing his whacky sister to be chosen as Maiden. What a bloody idiotic choice! I tell you, when his time comes I’ll be ready. I’d like to see him fall, I really would – especially after what he put me through today.’

Swift nodded at this.

‘Me too! He’s an arrogant bastard and he shouldn’t be in power here. We’re ready! Father said … well, never mind what Father said … anyway, the sooner Yul’s brought down, the better!’

‘He killed our dear father, you know,’ said Sweyn mawkishly. ‘Hexed him. I’ll see him finished, I will!’

‘Made a widow of our mother, he did,’ added Gefrin. ‘All those years we thought ‘twas an accident.’

‘And my father too! ‘Tis all Yul’s fault,’ said Jay.

They chorused their intense desire to see him get his comeuppance.

‘We’ll have to get together and make plans,’ said Swift. ‘Form a sort of alliance to bring him down and make it happen, not just sit around talking about it.’

‘Brilliant!’ slurred Kestrel. ‘I like it – we’ll do all sorts of things behind the lines like agents who sabotage their enemies undercover.’

‘Yeah – smash it up! Destroy it!’

‘When our gang’s done, Yul will be history!’ cried Swift and they all drank to that.

Clip sat alone in his tower in his white and silver robes and stared despondently into the fire burning in the hearth. He thought sadly of Leveret, his little protégée, who must now be asleep at home. This should’ve been her big day, the day she’d remember for the rest of her life. She’d certainly do that, he thought wryly, but for entirely the wrong reasons. If only he’d gone down to the Village earlier maybe he could’ve helped. It was obvious she’d been drugged and he was sure it was no coincidence that the three hags had chosen this event to mark their return to Village life, wanting to see the effects of their handiwork.

Clip had arrived just as the afternoon’s performances were about to start, slipping in to the Great Barn and standing quietly at the back of the crowds. He’d wanted to see Leveret starring in her role, overcoming her fears as he knew she would and fulfilling her promise as Maiden. She had no idea of the true significance of the role but Sylvie must’ve known it instinctively when she chose Leveret for the part. The spiritual aspects of the role – the celestial spark of intuition, feminine creativity, divine inspiration – were Leveret’s by destiny and right.

But it was all in ruins, sabotaged by the dark forces at work in Stonewylde, and poor Leveret was now in deep trouble. He’d wanted to intervene but hadn’t really appreciated what was happening until it was too late to do anything. If only he’d come earlier and realised. Clip shuddered at the memory of Yul’s face, so very like Magus’ in his dangerous anger. Yul was not sadistic like his father had been – there’d be no torture in the stone byre – but his anger was almost more frightening for that. Leveret would pay a steep price for the fiasco today for Yul had been humiliated in front of the whole community and was far too proud to let that pass unpunished. Clip had heard the mutterings and complaints as folk wondered why Yul’s sister had been allowed to ruin the whole afternoon ceremony with her crazy behaviour. He also heard some whispering about the lack of Earth Magic at the sunrise ritual and guessed that this would be the real source of Yul’s humiliation, though doubtless he’d take it all out on Leveret. Clip would have to step in and intervene if he didn’t want to see the girl crushed.

Clip sighed deeply. Leveret had been right when she’d stood and made her prophecy – he didn’t know whose voice she was echoing but it was one of truth. There were shadows at Stonewylde and the darkness was gathering. He’d sensed a collective chime of affirmation amongst the community as she spoke. They’d all felt it – their instincts told them something was wrong in the heart of Stonewylde and troubles were building like dark storm clouds towering higher and higher in inky blackness until eventually – soon – they must erupt into a torrent of destruction.

Poor Leveret – she was so young and fragile to be bearing this enormous responsibility. More than ever Clip was convinced that she’d been given a gift. She was the one who must channel the forces of creativity and light to counteract the shadows and destruction that were looming. He’d help her in every way he could but he shuddered to think what lay ahead. He couldn’t be part of it; staying at Stonewylde was no longer an option for him. It was as if by announcing his intended departure Clip had made it an irrefutable fact. He had to leave Stonewylde. Now, more than ever, Yul would make sure he did – and as he thought that the serpent in his belly twisted, making him writhe again in agony.

Martin stood silently on the wide staircase, the entrance hall in near darkness below him and the upstairs landing only dimly lit. The shadowy staircase was a space between worlds and Martin was a part of the shadows, only his silvery Hallfolk hair glinting slightly as it caught the faint light. Most people who lived in the Hall were still drinking and dancing down in the Great Barn, trying to make the most of a bad day. What a shambles it had been, Martin thought bitterly. His mother, Old Violet, had been absolutely right although her outburst had been a little embarrassing. Things
had
been done properly in Magus’ time – everything ran like clockwork, everyone knew their place and they were content with it. There was none of this grumbling and moaning that he encountered now in the Village, none of the rudeness and disrespect amongst the young. Magus would never have stood for it; a public whipping or two to make an example and everyone would’ve knuckled down again and been grateful for what they had. But times had changed and they’d changed for the worse, with only more problems to look forward to if things continued as they were.

He heard something from upstairs and silently climbed the rest of the steps up to the landing. The noise was coming from Yul and Sylvie’s rooms – Magus’ apartments as he still thought of them. They were arguing again. There’d been a lot of that in recent months and tonight’s row sounded like a heated one. Martin knew what was going on; they made so much noise it was impossible not to. Yul was too weak. The magus shouldn’t stand for that sort of behaviour in his wife. Martin smiled slightly at the very thought of Magus letting any woman argue back or try to run things her way. He would never, ever have permitted it! Martin wouldn’t either – neither his first late wife nor his younger second wife, Swift’s mother, would’ve
dared
to speak to him the way Sylvie spoke to Yul, as if she were his equal. The magus was the leader of Stonewylde – always had been, always should be, but not anymore. Things were falling apart and it was time to call a halt to it. Stonewylde deserved better than this.

Martin winced as he heard Sylvie’s voice rising. How could Yul permit such lack of respect? He shook his head and moved away without a sound, unable to bear any further eavesdropping. They deserved each other, the pair of them. They deserved everything that was coming to them too. It’d be a while before the rowdy youngsters returned and Martin must make the most of this peace and quiet, this lull before the storm. He silently padded back downstairs towards his office. Others might be out there enjoying themselves or arguing with recalcitrant wives but Martin was dedicated and loyal. Stonewylde was his life. There was very important work to be done and it must happen tonight, if everything were to be set in motion. Martin rubbed the scar on his temple and smiled.

Sylvie glared at Yul. He stood with his back to the fire silhouetted against the flickering flames that licked the logs in the hearth. The large sitting room was shadowy, for they’d only switched on a small table lamp before their conversation had grown heated. The girls were in the crèche at the Nursery along with all the other young children, worn out from the long day. Sylvie wished that she were asleep too. She had a pounding headache as the stress of this disastrous Imbolc finally caught up with her.

They should by rights still be down in the Barn as the party was far from over, but neither of them could face any more. Yul was in such a black mood he knew he might do something he’d regret if he stayed. Sylvie was simply exhausted and the thought of any more time spent jigging around the heated and noisy Barn trying to pretend all was well was simply too much. They’d both left early and walked back home accompanied, to their dismay, by Magpie and Marigold. They’d had to keep up a pretence of normality, making conversation and concealing their irritation as Marigold chattered on endlessly about what a good boy Magpie was. But now finally they were alone.

‘It
was
deliberate, Sylvie! She’d been eating mushrooms. When I took her home I saw them lying there on her bedside table – she didn’t even have the wits to hide them!’

‘Why would they be lying there if she’d taken them? It doesn’t make sense.’

‘She’s obviously got a supply. We know she’s been messing about with the things – she looked drugged up at Samhain and we had that incident at Quarrycleave too. Leveret’s been experimenting with mushrooms for a while now.’

‘I just don’t believe she’d do that, not at Imbolc. Not when she had such a key role to play.’

‘Well she damn well did! Anyway, why are you defending her when she’s clearly in the wrong? What’s she ever done to deserve your taking her side?’

Sylvie sighed wearily, wishing he’d go down to his office and leave her in peace. If he thought she was up to any love-making tonight he was mistaken, especially when he was seething with unspent anger like this.

‘I feel very sorry for her. You’re always on her back and I don’t think it’s warranted. I think there’s something else going on here but you won’t even consider the possibility. You’ve really got it in for poor Leveret.’

‘That’s not true and you damn well know it! I only got involved in the first place because Mother asked me to help sort out her bad behaviour, and I’ve tried to. Leveret was a lovely little girl but not anymore – she needs discipline. She’s been running circles round poor Mother and all I’ve tried to do is provide that discipline. She’s as out of control as some Outside World teenager and you know we don’t allow that sort of behaviour at Stonewylde.’

Sylvie sat silently, too tired to argue back. He looked down at her noticing how pale and strained she looked, wraith-like in this shadowy light in her white Imbolc dress. She may seem weak, he thought bitterly, yet she was always arguing with him, challenging everything he said or did, never accepting his judgement or good sense. She was making his life hell. He felt the anger, always bubbling inside him lately, well up again. All he’d ever done was love her, try to look after her and care for her. Why had life become a constant battle with her? What had happened to their peace and harmony?

‘I’ll speak to Mother in the morning and we’ll decide what to do with her,’ he continued. ‘Leveret may have to move in here with us or perhaps into a dormitory with some of the older girls as I don’t think I want her influencing our daughters. Or better still, I could send her to boarding school in the Outside World – that’d sort her out. She won’t get away with what she did today, bloody little nuisance.’

‘Have you heard yourself, Yul? What’s the matter with you?’ Sylvie felt her voice rising but was beyond caring. ‘Leveret’s a young girl – your own little sister – it’s her birthday today, she was terrified of the ceremonies and she made a silly mistake. It’s not the end of the world, no great crime, and yet the way you go on anyone would think she’d done something awful.’

‘She has! She completely ruined everything today! One of our eight festivals of the year was spoiled for everyone because of
her
behaviour. That’s something awful in my books. She’ll be punished for today – she deserves it.’

‘You’re a bully!’