Shaman of Stonewylde (16 page)

Leveret’s brothers were less forgiving, and, as the warm afternoon wore on, they became more vociferous in their grudge towards the youngest member of their family. They stood together by the bar watching their sister as she left her place by Clip’s side and picked her way around all the tables towards the kitchen area. Magpie sat near the door to be close to Marigold, who’d been bustling in and out throughout the feast. Magpie gazed around in silence and Leveret settled herself next to him. The tables had been mostly cleared of food and the men had begun to pack them away, or push them to the sides of the Barn ready for the dancing later on.

‘She’s still friends with old Rabbit-gob then,’ said Gefrin, and Sweyn let out a shout of laughter at this.

‘Yeah, Hare-brain and Rabbit-gob – they make a good pair. Next thing we know they’ll be handfasted and have a litter o’ long-eared babies with bob-tails! Ugh!’

They eyed Leveret malignantly as she sat talking to Magpie.

‘Look – what’s the point in that? He can’t bloody talk and he’s as thick as horse-dung! Why does she act like they’re having a chat together? She’s so embarrassing!’

‘I wish we could get her like we planned. But there’s never a chance, is there? She’s always with Clip.’

‘She must be on her own sometimes. We just need to keep our eyes open and be ready.’

‘I think we need Old Violet and Vetchling, like Jay said. Imbolc was so good, and that were thanks to them. Let’s do it properly and get their help again.’

‘Good idea. Let’s find Jay – where is he?’

Sweyn curled his lip and sneered.

‘He’s trying to get Tansy to go up the quarry with him tonight for the Hare Moon.’

‘So long as it’s Tansy. He better not bloody try it with my Meadowsweet!’

‘She ain’t your Meadowsweet, is she, Gef? And anyway—’

‘She will be – I’m going to ask her to walk with me. I’m waiting to do it proper at Lammas with a corn-favour.’

‘Lammas – that’s months away! Some other bugger will’ve had her by then,’ laughed Sweyn. ‘And she’s not interested in you anyway. Why d’you want to bother with girls? Bloody waste o’ time, if you ask me.’

Gefrin flushed, his thin, spotty face miserable.

‘I just like her, that’s all. She’s alright. I see her every day at the farm and I think about her a bit and . . . you’re sure Jay ain’t interested in her? It’s definitely Tansy?’

‘Yeah, it’s Tansy, though it ain’t her Rite until the Summer Solstice, so it’s a risk. And why he wants to take her up the quarry I don’t know. He’ll have to nick one o’ the cars to get up there and if he gets caught, there’ll be big trouble.’

‘Quarrycleave ain’t a good place to go anyway,’ said Gefrin.
‘Remember
when we went up there with him once? After he’d gone on and on about it? Goddess knows why he likes it there so much. That place gives me the creeps and I wouldn’t want to go there in the dark even at the Moon Fullness.’

‘Nor me. Good luck to him, if he does get Tansy up there.’

‘Shame he ain’t here, though. Then we could’ve planned what to do about our little sis and how she’ll get her comeuppance.’

Leveret and Magpie left the Barn, as many were now doing, to get some fresh air outside before the music and dancing started. It was late afternoon, warm and drowsy with that soft expectancy of May, when all is growing and unfurling and summer only a whisper away. The Village Green was clustered with folk in their finery, including the seven handfasted couples. Leveret and Magpie wandered over to the large pond, where the ducks were busy dabbling and froglets swarmed in the mud. They sat on one of the log benches and gazed about them, happy in each other’s company.

‘Isn’t it lovely to see David and Dawn like this?’ she said. ‘They’re so in love.’

Magpie held an image of a pair of pretty blue and yellow blue-tits, fluttering around each other in a courtship dance. Leveret laughed.

‘Exactly! They’re like a pair of love-birds.’

Then she looked at Magpie strangely. She could see the word “
bird
” very clearly in her head, in bold black ink on creamy parchment.

‘Are you sending me the word, Maggie?’

He looked at her and grinned, his turquoise eyes dancing and his face flushed with pleasure.

‘You can actually send me a word? Honestly, what’s happened to you? You’re so clever!’

He squeezed her hand, and she sensed his simple joy. His world was a million times better than it had ever been before and he brimmed with happiness. She felt all this in that squeeze of the hand.

‘Oh Maggie, do you think you’ll ever be able to talk? Can you try?’

Instantly his face darkened and he looked away, all vivacity dead.

‘What? What is it, Maggie? I’m sorry – what’s wrong?’

And then it came to her in a stomach-wrenching, heart-stopping deluge that made her want to vomit.

Screaming, screaming with hunger and discomfort, sore and cold, hungry, hungry, cold and wet, screaming, screaming, screaming . . . and a red, angry shout and a shake and hatred, so much hatred, and a slap, another violent shake, and then a dirty rag into the mouth, stuffed in, rammed in so hard that breath was almost impossible . . . then bundled away in a small dark place for a long, long time . . . no more screaming, no noise, no sound ever again
. . .

‘Oh my Goddess!’ cried Leveret, her eyes popping with peppery tears. ‘Is that what she did to you? Is that why? Oh my poor darling Magpie!’

She leant against his shoulder, still holding his hand tightly, hot tears dripping from her cheeks onto her knees.

‘Maggie, forget that. Put all that away, back wherever it was, and never ever think of it again. You and me – we can tell each other things without talking and now you can write and read you have enough words. I’m so very sorry, Magpie.’

She sat sadly now, trying to put the horrendous image out of her mind and feeling guilt-stricken for dredging it up out of his. If Starling were to walk past now, she thought fiercely . . . but instead, two little girls came tumbling across the grass towards her, bubbling with excitement and laughter.

‘Auntie Leveret! How’s Hare? Have you got her here with you?’

Leveret smiled as Bluebell climbed up onto her lap and Celandine pressed against her knees. It was impossible to resist their affection – nor did she want to.

‘No, I don’t think she’s ready to come out with me yet,’ she replied, wiping her cheeks briskly. ‘She’d be scared of all
the
people and noise. Maybe one day I’ll bring her.’

‘You could make her a special basket to carry her in,’ said Celandine.

‘Yes, like a little nest!’ cried Bluebell. ‘With a lid so if she’s scared you could make her all safe.’

‘I expect she’ll be quite heavy when she’s fully grown,’ said Leveret. ‘Have you ever seen a grown-up hare? They’re actually very big, especially the females. I don’t know if I fancy carrying her around.’

‘Then make her a little buggy!’ said Celandine. ‘Like the babies have – those wicker ones with wheels and a handle.’

Bluebell shrieked at this and Magpie covered his ears with his hands.

‘Oh Auntie Leveret! Hare tucked up in a buggy! With a bonnet and all!’

‘Bluebell, ssh – not so loud. Poor Magpie doesn’t like that shrieking noise.’

The little girl stared at him in consternation, then guiltily put her thumb in her mouth to silence herself.

‘Is this your friend, Auntie Leveret?’ asked Celandine, smiling shyly at him.

‘Yes, this is Magpie. Magpie, these are my two nieces, Bluebell and Celandine. You know them of course, but I don’t think you’ve ever really met them, have you?’

‘I like your goldy hair, Magpie,’ said Bluebell, removing her wet thumb. ‘It’s like Granny’s toffee that she makes.’

‘Magpie can’t talk back,’ Leveret said, ‘though he understands what you’re saying to him. Magpie is a very clever artist and his drawings are magical.’

‘Really?’ asked Celandine, her eyes gleaming. ‘Would he do some pictures for our book, do you think? You know, the one about the faeries and the hares?’

Leveret smiled at her and nodded.

‘That’s a very good idea,’ she said. ‘Magpie’s only just learning to read and write himself. He’s probably about the same stage as you, Bluebell. We could let him read your story for himself, and
then
maybe he’d draw some pictures for it. Would you do that, Maggie?’

He nodded, smiling a little uncertainly at the girls. He’d never had anything to do with children, having always been the butt of derision in the Village.

‘Why is Magpie only learning to read and write now, when he’s a grown-up?’ asked Celandine with a frown. ‘Didn’t he go to school like everyone else?’

‘He had a very sad and difficult time when he was a little boy,’ said Leveret. ‘It wasn’t his fault, but he was too unhappy and scared to learn.’

‘That’s horrible!’ said Bluebell. ‘Poor Magpie – the teachers should’ve made him better.’

‘Yes,’ said Leveret. ‘Everyone should have. But still, Magpie’s happy now and I think he’ll enjoy your book.’

They were then joined by Sylvie, who’d changed out of her special handfasting robes and now wore a pretty dress. She sat on the bench next to Leveret, smiling at them all. Leveret felt a shiver of pleasure at her company and greeted her warmly.

‘Why don’t you girls see if the faeries are dancing under the rowan trees today?’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t mind a chat with Auntie Leveret myself.’

‘Can we take Magpie?’ asked Bluebell, wriggling down from Leveret’s lap. She reached up and took his hand, giving him a little tug. He stared at her awkwardly and Leveret glanced quickly at Sylvie.

‘Would that be alright? He’s as gentle as a lamb, I promise.’

Sylvie only hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding, and Leveret beamed.

‘Magpie, go with the girls and help them look for faeries, but stay away from anyone else. And be careful, won’t you?’

She still had memories of Magpie in the woods, rabbit blood glistening on his face. Surely with Yul’s children by his side he’d be safe from the tormentors?

When they’d gone, Sylvie sighed heavily, gazing out at the Green and all the joyful people. She was just a sliver of ice inside.

‘Leveret . . . I don’t know where to start, really, but . . . I need some help. Or at least someone to talk to. I don’t know where to turn, but I thought maybe you’d understand?’

‘Yes, yes of course! I want to help – what can I do?’

Sylvie shook her head despairingly.

‘I just don’t know! I don’t even know what’s wrong, let alone how to put it right. I’m so very, very depressed and sad.’

‘Maybe that’d be a way to start – focus on getting rid of the depression? Perhaps everything else would be easier if you’re feeling more positive.’

‘That might help. I just can’t raise myself above this thick, heavy fog that hangs over me every day, all the time. I feel there’s a demon on my back, turning everything grey and bad. I’m really just going through the motions of coping. If it weren’t for your mother . . .’

Leveret smiled at this.

‘I’m glad she’s helping you,’ she said gently. ‘She can be so kind and loving.’

‘She looks after me and the girls, takes away all the struggle of getting through each day. But above all, she’s given me the chance to be away from Yul.’

‘Have you tried any medication for your depression?’ asked Leveret. ‘I’ve been spending time most days with Hazel and if you were to tell her about this —’

‘No,’ said Sylvie firmly. ‘I really don’t want any drugs. There’s stuff . . . things from when I was really ill a few years ago . . . I don’t want to go down that route.’

‘Okay, but how about a natural remedy? Would you feel more comfortable taking something herbal, the sort of thing Mother Heggy would’ve brewed?’

Sylvie turned to look at her closely. Leveret’s clear green eyes shone, so lovely in her dark face. This girl – Sylvie had always been rather scared of her. But she was wonderful; how had they never got on before?

‘I remember Mother Heggy’s remedies,’ she said. ‘They looked foul but they certainly worked. That’s not the same thing as
taking
an anti-depressant, is it? Natural medicine is very different. But I’m not going to Old Violet, if that’s what you’re thinking!’

‘No, I can help you!’ said Leveret excitedly. ‘I’m studying all the old folk medicines and I can make you a remedy. What you need for depression and chasing away those dragons is Hypericum – St. John’s Wort. It’s entirely natural, Sylvie, and it’s been used for a long time to cure depression.’

‘Alright,’ she said. ‘If you’re sure.’

‘Yes! Honestly, it’s perfect for your needs. It’s started flowering nice and early this year because it’s been so warm and I’m actually in the process of steeping a tincture right now, as a general pick-me-up tonic. But that won’t be ready for another week, so I’ll make you up infusions in the meantime. I’m afraid it won’t seem to have any effect for about four weeks, but you must stick with it.’

‘Thanks, Leveret. I’ll give it a go as long as there are no side effects.’

‘You may get slightly more sunburned that usual – I’ve read it can cause photosensitivity. But I’m sure you’re careful about that anyway with your pale skin.’

‘That’s really kind of you. I feel better already!’

They smiled a little shyly at each other.

‘Actually, Leveret, I’ve just thought of something else you could do, if you wouldn’t mind? It’s about moondancing . . .’

She stopped and Leveret glanced at her, noting the sadness in her eyes and the droop of her mouth and her shoulders. The younger girl longed so much to heal Sylvie, to make her happy and whole.

‘Yes? I’ll help in any way . . .’

‘Last year I promised the girls I’d take them up to Hare Stone one Moon Fullness so they could watch the Bright Lady rise over the hills and maybe dance with me around the stone. They remembered, and now of course they’re pestering me. I thought maybe tonight, at Hare Moon . . .’

‘That sounds like a wonderful idea!’ said Leveret. ‘Just what
you
need, and lovely for them to be part of it too. What can I do?’

‘Just come with us, and be there if you’re needed.’ Sylvie wasn’t going to mention anything about voices or ghosts. ‘I used to get so moongazy and strange. And although I don’t any more, I’d like to have you there with us just in case. It’s quite a long walk for the girls, especially Bluebell, and another adult would make me feel happier about taking them along.’