Shadows at Stonewylde

17



Understanding that her daughter was terrified, Maizie kept her close while she talked to other adults behind the laden trestle-tables of food. The last thing she wanted was Leveret to bolt back home in panic. Maizie was immensely proud of her, beaming at the Village women who shook their heads in amazement at the little tomboy’s transformation. Leveret stood quietly and gradually the Barn grew busier as groups of boys who’d been messing about outside on the Village Green started to drift in. Then there was a call from the Gatehouse to say the coach had arrived and was on its way down. Many more youngsters still outside piled into the Barn and the disco lights were switched on, strangely colourful and flickering to people only used to lantern and candlelight in the place. The volume of the music was turned up and everyone waited expectantly. Leveret, her heart pounding with nervousness, looked around to locate Sweyn, Gefrin and Jay – and Kestrel too, if possible – but she couldn’t see any of them.

The coach pulled up outside the Village as the cobbled tracks weren’t wide enough for such a vehicle, and almost fifty teenagers from the Outside World tumbled out in an excited, noisy throng. They were all from the local college and were intrigued to be here. The kids from Stonewylde were renowned for being an odd bunch, strangely quaint and different from them in many ways, and nobody in the coach party knew what to expect now they were in the Stonewylders’ stronghold. In fact the guests had no idea just how honoured they were. Inviting such a large group of Outsiders into Stonewylde had never been done before in living or recorded memory – not since the days of tribes and settlements when visitors would come to trade, and that was a very long time ago.

The young people in their party clothes huddled round the familiar coach and looked about in bewilderment, trying to make everything out and wondering why, even for rural Dorset, it was so very dark here. There were no street lights although lanterns hung from the buildings and shed just enough light to intrigue them further. They recognised a pub and a village green – that much was familiar to them. But then Kestrel arrived in their midst, a handsome recognisable face in an alien world, and ushered them all towards the open double doors of the Great Barn.

The crowd of Outsiders heard the familiar boom-boom-boom of music and saw the flashing coloured lights and lasers, and felt more at home. They poured into the vast building, taking in the tiny twinkling silver lanterns and evergreen decorations that hung from its massive rafters. They liked the old-fashioned Christmas decorations, which had been left up in the end, and were amazed at the size of the barn. They noticed the tables of food that lined one wall and the bar with its wooden barrels, rows of bottles and jugs of juice and water. After the wild speculation that had been rife during the coach ride, everything seemed quite civilised after all.

Coats were taken and put into a side room for later. People hung around in small groups eyeing the central stone-flagged area that was clearly a dance floor, and the bales of straw, upturned logs and wooden benches dotted around for seating. Those Stonewylders who attended college began to mingle, shouting welcomes over the music, taking their friends to get drinks from the bar. And so the first ever Outsiders’ Dance began.

Leveret hid behind the food tables in terror. She was one of the youngest there; no one from her year-group had yet visited the Outside World and wouldn’t until February. She was aghast at the sight of so many unfamiliar faces. Growing up in a closed community meant that every single person she ever saw was known and recognised. Their clothes were so strange, so completely different. Even though the Stonewylders who went to college wore Outside clothes sometimes, theirs were fairly ordinary, everyday outfits. But most of these visitors wore incredible, bizarre party things. Leveret couldn’t understand why some of the girls’ shoes were so contorted. How could they possibly walk when their feet were tilted and crushed like that? And the makeup – it was as if they’d painted themselves to act in a drama. She stood and gawped in pure disbelief.

Kestrel was acting as the host, feeling responsible for the evening. It had been his idea in the first place and Yul had warned him that should anything go wrong, he’d be held responsible and the event would never be repeated. But rather than worrying about it Kestrel was revelling in his role, loving being at the centre of attention and the leader of the event. He’d rejected Outside clothes and decided to make a feature of his difference, being smart enough to realise that to Outsiders he must seem rather exotic. He wore the traditional festival clothes: narrow black linen trousers, black leather Stonewylde boots with their unique shape, and a flowing white shirt of the finest material.

Kestrel looked devastatingly handsome with his hazelnut-brown hair and laughing blue eyes and every girl in the place was aware of him. Leveret was no exception. She’d located him and now watched him carefully; he was the sort of person impossible to ignore and was doing the rounds, ensuring all the visitors had drinks and food. Leveret shrunk into the shadows as a group approached the food table she hid behind. She slipped off to one side in case she’d have to serve anyone, not wanting any contact with the strangers.

As she stood huddled by the wall, her eyes wide with curiosity and shyness, Swift spotted her and came over. Although she still was unsure about him she was relieved to talk to someone familiar

‘I didn’t recognise you, Leveret,’ he said, standing close enough that he didn’t have to shout. ‘What a transformation!’

She gave him a sideways look and smiled slightly.

‘You’ll turn a few heads tonight, I expect,’ he continued.

‘Hardly, with all these amazing Outsiders – they’re the head-turners.’

‘Only to those who haven’t seen them before. They’re quite familiar to the Stonewylde college people and even I recognise a lot of them from my visits.’

‘Will you be going on to college next autumn?’ she asked.

‘Without a doubt, and probably to university too like Kestrel.’

‘He’s leaving then next year?’ Her heart sank although she’d always known it was likely; he was one of the highest fliers of his year group.

‘Yes – Kes is very clever. And what about you, Leveret – what are your plans? I know you’re a high achiever too.’

She grimaced and shook her head, and Swift was quite fascinated by the delicacy of her jaw and neck, the plane of her cheekbones. Leveret had spent her entire life hiding behind the mass of dark curls. Whoever would’ve thought there was a real beauty, invisible up until now, dwelling in their midst.

‘I don’t ever want to leave Stonewylde,’ she replied and he laughed.

‘You’ll change your mind once you’ve visited the Outside World – we all do.’

They stood quietly for a while watching the groups of people laughing and shouting over the music, drinking and eating. A few had started dancing already, including Kestrel.

‘Just look at Kes!’ mused Swift. ‘He’s in his element. He’s got the girls lined up and waiting for him tonight as ever.’

Leveret swallowed at this. She knew she wasn’t alone in wanting him.

‘He’s very popular,’ she agreed.

‘Too right! He could have any girl he wanted in this place tonight, and no exaggeration, he’s probably had at least half of them already. He’s been working his way through the Stonewylde girls, picking them off as they turn sixteen. And then there’re all the college girls too. He’ll have a challenge when he gets to university though. Even Kestrel couldn’t manage that many, though he’d love to die trying.’

Leveret couldn’t bear to hear talk like this – Kestrel was popular but not so promiscuous, surely? Her throat felt tight with jealousy at the thought of him with so many girls.

‘Let’s go and get a drink, Leveret – come on.’

Not allowing any refusal, he took her arm and tugged her away from the safety of the shadows right out into the open where the coloured lights played brightly. Leveret was terrified, her mouth dry and hands trembling. She walked beside Swift with a straight back, her head high and not daring to look around or catch anyone’s eye, just like a stiff-legged cat self-consciously picking its way along a high, exposed wall. She knew people were looking at her, lots of people, and she shook with terror. She’d been right all along – she was ridiculous, hideous, the ugly, skinny bitch her brothers had always told her she was, the ugliest, most boyish, girl in Stonewylde.

‘Hey, Swift! Who’s this? I don’t think … Sacred Mother! It’s our Leveret!’

Kestrel stood before them smiling incredulously. He was sheened slightly with perspiration from dancing which merely accentuated his good looks. His eyes were alight with fun; they’d been sparkling with pleasure and now widened in sheer surprise. He removed Swift’s hand from Leveret’s sleeve and turned her around slowly, looking her up and down. Then he gazed into her face, tilted her chin and swivelled her head slightly to see her profile. He grinned and she felt the full blast of his charm.

‘I just don’t believe it! What happened to you? Where’s my grubby little girl with the mop of curls and the scowl?’

Leveret smiled shyly, lowering her eyes and then glancing up at him through her lashes, completely unaware of just how exquisitely alluring that was. She could think of nothing remotely intelligent to say so kept quiet.

‘Exactly how old are you?’ he asked, glancing at the silver Huntress’ bow hung on the scarlet ribbon around her throat.

‘Fourteen,’ she replied. ‘Fifteen at Imbolc.’

‘Pity,’ he smiled, chucking her cheek with a gentle finger. ‘But you’ll be worth waiting for.’

Then he was off and back on the dance floor with the girls he’d been with, whilst Leveret practically glided on wings after Swift to the bar, tingling with wild joy.

Sylvie stood by Yul’s side watching the party warm up. More people were dancing now, the food plundered but by no means finished as Stonewylde feasts were always abundant. She hadn’t wanted to come to the event but Yul had insisted. They were the hosts and should at least make an appearance although he realised the last thing their young guests wanted was to make polite conversation with adults. Sylvie stood sipping a glass of cordial and felt all her sensibilities recoil from the scene around her. The sight of the garish Outside clothes and make-up, the overt sexual display in the dancing and music all brought back memories of her visits to Yul at his university, when she’d had to endure such events.

Sylvie remembered the curiosity and hostility she’d encountered when meeting Yul’s peer group. She’d attended an agricultural college in Dorset which enabled her to return home frequently as her health and allergies had always been a concern. Yul, however, after sailing through his exams with amazing grades for someone who’d only learned to read and write at sixteen, had gone to one of the big city universities. Clip and Miranda, practically the only ones at Stonewylde who knew about education in the Outside World, had been sure that broadening his horizons was what Yul needed most, before returning fulltime to Stonewylde. They didn’t want him getting restless in the future or feeling he’d missed out on anything the Outside World had to offer.

So Yul had spent three years at an enormous, busy university where he’d encountered a life completely and utterly alien to anything in his world. He’d missed Stonewylde terribly and Sylvie in particular, and had loved nothing better than coming home in the holidays. But he’d also had a great time, soaking up all the place had to offer socially and culturally as well as academically, and had clamoured for more. He was very popular amongst his peers although Sylvie knew he’d been faithful to her whilst he was away studying. She trusted him absolutely for he was passionately and obsessively in love with her. It had been hard for her letting him go like that as her small agricultural college was a far cry from his huge and exciting university; not that she’d ever wished to go somewhere like that herself.

During the term time he frequently asked her to come and spend the weekend with him, wanting her to meet all his new acquaintances and see his new lifestyle. Sylvie was very reluctant, knowing she’d be an object of curiosity. She understood that his peers were keen to see the cause of his fidelity and devotion; his faithfulness to her certainly wasn’t from lack of interest amongst the girls there. When she’d visited he’d been so proud of her, showing her off to his wide circle of friends, not understanding their lack of enthusiasm towards her. To them she was the boring girl from home, unsophisticated and old-fashioned in her tastes. Nobody could understand what on earth the exotic and exciting Yul saw in her.

Sylvie glanced at him now as he drained a tankard of cider, his throat moving as he tipped back his head and swallowed. Like Kestrel he too was wearing traditional Stonewylde clothes which accentuated his long powerful legs and slim waist, the breadth of his shoulders and chest. Despite the recent events she felt a familiar pulse of desire for him which she quickly squashed. That terrible night when he’d forced himself on her so roughly was still fresh in her mind and imprinted on her body. She bruised as easily as ever and the marks from his rough, grasping hands were still visible, livid against her white skin. She’d had to be careful the girls didn’t see such graphic evidence of their father’s new brutality.

‘Doesn’t Leveret look beautiful?’ she said, watching the girl as she stood apart sipping a glass of dark liquid.

‘Where? I haven’t seen her yet.’

She pointed towards the slim girl with her elegant hairstyle and svelte dress.

‘That’s Leveret?’ he gaped. ‘I didn’t recognise her! Goddess, she looks so different. Who’d have thought it? I’ll have to watch her with the boys – see the attention she’s attracting? Do you think she even realises?’

‘Probably not – I don’t think she’s interested in boys yet. It’s so good to see her looking happier now.’

‘Yes, she got exactly what she wanted and Mother’s eating out of her hand … but let’s not talk about her now. I think I’ve sorted Leveret out and she won’t be playing up again. Do you want another drink?’

‘No thanks, I’ve had enough.’

She watched him go to the bar for a refill.

And so have you, she thought to herself.

Leveret refused to join in the dancing despite being asked by several people. She loved to dance at the festivals to the wild drums and she loved to jig to the fiddles and flutes, but this was different and she didn’t feel comfortable with it. So she stood and watched, sipping elderberry wine and only talking when people joined her for a conversation. She was quite enjoying herself, basking in the compliments and praise, but most of all in the elation that Kestrel’s interest had inspired. She remembered the Dark Moon outside and her elation turned to a tingle of excitement as she thought of her planned ritual on the Green. Soon she’d slip away unnoticed; it’d be good to get out from this noise and heat too.

She’d managed to avoid her brothers and Jay so far although they’d spent some time standing across the barn from her staring, whispering together and clearly discussing her. She felt the waves of hostility emanating from them, especially from Jay who seemed unable to take his bulging blue eyes off her. She moved closer to one of the exits, knowing her cloak was on a peg nearby and thinking maybe this was a good time to collect her bag from under the yew tree and get started. She’d no idea of the time but knew she must perform the spell before midnight, for this was the time of the Dark Moon and after midnight it’d be tomorrow.

Leveret was near the door and the pegs when suddenly she saw the three youths heading her way, like large henchmen closing in on their victim. Maizie and most of the adults had already left but she tried to move back into the safety of the crowds. She was too late – they surrounded her and her brothers positioned themselves on either side of her, each taking an arm and holding her tightly.

‘Well, well, fancy seeing you here!’ giggled Gefrin, squeezing her upper arm hard.

‘Mind my dress!’ she hissed. ‘Mother made it.’

Sweyn jabbed her sharply in the back.

‘Don’t start getting uppity, Leveret,’ he growled. ‘You know where that leads.’

Jay stood in front of her, towering hugely and sweating profusely. He reeked of cider, as did the others.

‘Look at you all tarted up,’ he sneered. ‘Did I upset you the other night? Tried to do something about it, did you? You’re still an ugly, skinny little bitch and don’t you forget it!’

‘Kestrel doesn’t think so!’ she blurted out, her cheeks burning.

‘Kestrel? Was Kes sniffing around then? What did he say?’

‘None of your business!’ she retorted, wishing fervently that she hadn’t mentioned him at all. She should’ve just kept quiet and let them get the tormenting over and done with.

Jay glared at her in surprise, then punched her in the stomach. It wasn’t a hard punch, nothing like he’d given Magpie, but it made her grunt in pain as the air was forced from her diaphragm.

‘Careful,’ warned Sweyn. ‘No bruises or marks, Jay – we said about this.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I know, but she ain’t talking to me like that. So I’ll try again, Leveret – what did Kestrel say that made you think you’re not the ugly little weasel we all know you to be?’

She hung her head, still gasping for breath from the blow that had winded her and not wanting any more pain tonight.

‘He said I was worth waiting for,’ she said quietly.

‘HE SAID YOU WERE WORTH WAITING FOR!’ crowed Jay at the top of his voice, laughing raucously. ‘And you took that as a compliment, did you? Stupid little bitch! Kestrel pokes anything that moves; of course he’ll get round to you when you’re old enough. That doesn’t mean a thing so don’t flatter yourself! Anyway, if he thought you were that bloody hot he wouldn’t want to wait at all, would he?’

He looked at her and shook his head mockingly.

‘Are we going to take her outside then?’ asked Gefrin. ‘Like we said.’

‘Too many people about,’ said Sweyn. ‘And we’ve better things to do tonight, haven’t we, with all these girls here? Let’s leave it for tonight – Leveret’s still going to be here tomorrow. And the next day and the one after that. We can sort her out any time we want.’

‘Yeah, you two go on and get some more cider in – I’ll be with you in a minute. I’m just going to have a quiet little word with Leveret on my own.’

‘Alright but remember what we said. If there’s any marks to prove her snitching, we’re all in big trouble.’

‘I ain’t going to hurt her, not tonight. Don’t worry – no marks.’

Sweyn and Gefrin ambled off towards the bar and Jay turned to Leveret, who was filled with a plummeting dread. There was something really nasty about Jay. He was worse than her brothers who, all said and done, were just thick bully boys. But Jay was something else – he had an edge of viciousness that she found terrifying and she remembered the warning her brothers had given her earlier in the cottage. He leered down at her and took her hand in his.

‘Come on – outside, girl! I got something special for you.’

He tugged on her resisting arm and led her out into the cold night. It was shockingly quiet after the booming of the relentless music. The stars spangled in the black sky, filling the heavens. Leveret looked up and hoped Mother Heggy was somewhere out there still watching over her welfare. She was terrified of being alone with Jay who didn’t share her brothers’ concern about their mother finding out. Jay wouldn’t care less – his family had been in dispute with Maizie for a long time and she knew there was bad feeling between them stretching back many years.

He pushed her along the side of the Barn until they reached a buttress which blocked the view from the door. A lantern hung from a hook to guide anyone using this way as an exit and she could see his face clearly. He was bullet-headed with a massive neck peppered by a nasty rash where the bristles had only been roughly shaved. His face was ugly and pugnacious, his prominent eyes sparking with aggression, and now he shoved her hard into the corner where the buttress met the wall. He leant his hands on either side of her against the stone, trapping her in a human cage of muscle and sinew. His breath washed over her in foul waves as he stared down at her.

‘I got a bone to pick with you!’ he began. ‘It’s your fault they moved that half-witted cousin of mine up to the Hall.’

She said nothing and kept her head down.

‘Now my auntie and the two old ones have no one to do all the heavy work. They expect me to come and chop the wood and get the water every day. AND I’M NOT VERY HAPPY ABOUT THAT!’

She felt his spittle spray her face and involuntarily raised her hand in disgust to wipe it off. He grabbed hold of her wrist and yanked it away.

‘What’s the matter, Leveret? Don’t like me getting too close, eh? Scared of me, are you?’

Still holding her wrist he edged his body forward even closer to hers so they were almost touching and she felt the heat pulsing off him. She was completely trapped by his bulk and increasingly frightened of what was he was going to do to her. He was so huge and she felt very vulnerable indeed. She held her breath, gazing straight ahead at his chest and hoping desperately that someone would come along and find them – although to the casual observer they’d simply look like a couple canoodling in the darkness. She raised terrified eyes to his and he chuckled.

‘Yeah, you should be scared, girl. You’re right to be scared.’

As he glared down at her she saw something different in his eyes and he chuckled again, giving her wrist a cruel twist.

‘But that’ll wait for now. I got a present for you – something you’re going to need in the future. And I got the same present waiting for Magpie when I get the chance to give it him.’

With his free hand he pulled a small package from his pocket and placed it in her hand, closing her reluctant fingers over it.

‘It’s from Old Violet, so next time you’ll be able to do the job properly.’

‘What is it?’ whispered Leveret, looking down at the dirty piece of cloth in her hand. Whatever was wrapped inside was very light indeed.

‘Death Cap – the one you should’ve taken but messed up. Keep it safe, Leveret, because soon you’ll wish you were dead all over again.’

Laughing, he turned and stomped back into the Barn.

The stars blazed down on the girl standing straight-backed in the centre of a circle of salt. The elements were represented on the points around the circumference – a tiny lantern for fire, a stone for earth, a feather for air and a rough clay dish filled with water. The fifth element, the spirit, she’d symbolised with a little wooden hare that Yul had carved for her as a child. At the head of the circle lay a small and very rough altar, simply a large chunk of bark, decorated with mistletoe, holly and ivy as befitted the season. There was also a tiny cake and an egg-cup of elderberry wine. Everything was representational and the gifts showed that she gave back to the goddess what had been freely given to her – the fruits of the earth.

Leveret had whispered the words she’d memorised from her notebook as she’d sprinkled the salt, calling for protection from any spirit or person wishing her harm. Holding Mother Heggy’s athame in both hands, she now stood pointing it to the stars and calling the power of the elements to join her in the circle. She summoned each element in turn, asking that it lend its energy to her for the magic and indicating the symbol she’d used to represent it. The element of spirit, last to be summoned, she called from within, the blade at her chest. Then she invited the spirit of Mother Heggy to join her if she would.

Once the protection was in place and the elements summoned, she began to raise the energy she needed. With tiny steps Leveret started to walk widdershins around inside the circumference of the circle, the athame in her right hand pointing skyward and her left hand pointing to the earth. Leveret was acting as a conduit, a conductor of the energy which must pour down through her into the circle to create the magic. She called upon star-fire, for the dark skies were ablaze with it. She called upon the spirit of the Dark Moon, the crone, and especially Mother Heggy. She called and called, circling and circling, her entire being summoning, inviting and drawing it down.

Gradually she felt it coming, building into a cone of pure energy. There was a change inside the circle, an excitement and force that hadn’t been there before. Still she circled, one arm skyward and the other earthward, her face raised to the diamond stars in exaltation. Finally she stopped – it was enough. The air around her was thicker, quivering and crackling with invisible force. She bowed and sat down cross-legged on the frosty grass with her cloak wrapped around her, facing the altar she’d built.

Now she pulled out the willow she’d cut earlier and had woven into a rough sphere. She placed it carefully on the altar and asked the Dark Goddess to bless it and for the spirit of the willow tree to act as guardian. Then she took out a twist of paper and very delicately unwrapped the precious contents – the lock of Magpie’s butterscotch-gold hair. She raised it to her lips and kissed it gently, concentrating on a bright and happy image of her friend. She thought hard of Magpie, the kind soul within the simple body; the gentle soul she loved so dearly, blessed with a creative gift and a love of all things natural. She thought of the innocent soul that had been tormented and abused almost from the day it entered his body and this world, that had suffered constantly at the hands of others yet still shone with goodness. Leveret concentrated until she felt the essence of Magpie’s soul was with her. Then she poured it into the soft lock of hair resting in the cup of her palms, which she held now up to the heavens.

I call upon the five elements summoned here to my pentacle,

I call upon the power of the Dark Goddess, the secret magic of the Dark Moon,

I call upon the wisdom of the Wise Woman who once walked these lands,

I call upon the spirit of every tree gathered around this sacred place,

I call upon the mother-love of the great willow by the river,

I call upon the energy of this land, the green magic of Stonewylde,

I call you all together into this circle to witness my spell!

I ask you to bring magic tonight for my spell of protection,

I ask you to give me power to weave a spell of protection for Magpie,

I ask you to be guardians to my friend and protect him from mortal danger,

I ask you to bind those who’d hurt him and create a shield of protection

I ask you this with love in my heart – protect Magpie!

I will do what you will in return,

I will do your bidding, whatever it may be,

I will be your vessel and serve you, in return for this spell of protection.

May Magpie be safe from all harm!

Blessed be!

Leveret took the willow sphere from the bark altar and deftly pushed the lock of hair inside through a gap. She took some loose strands of willow from her bag and wove them into the ball, closing the larger gaps and gradually making the whole thing ever more solid and substantial. The hair was now locked within safely. Leveret cupped the willow globe gently in her hands and then held it to her heart. She threw her head back and looked up at the stars blazing in the velvet skies. She wished with every fibre of her being upon the stars. Then she hung her head, suddenly exhausted. She’d done it – her first spell. And she realised with a start that she’d used none of the words so carefully copied out from the Book of Shadows. The words for her spell of protection had been entirely her own, drawn straight from her soul. She hoped they were good enough.

Standing stiffly, Leveret raised the athame to the skies once more and dismissed the elements she’d summoned. She sent the energy she’d raised out of the circle and back into the starry night and then she bent and scattered what she could see of the salt with her hand, breaking the ring of protection. She’d finished and she’d done her very best. She could now feel the absence of the power that had gathered around her in the darkness. She blew out the tiny lantern and began to pack all the things away into her bag. Carefully she wrapped the sphere in a piece of cloth ready for its resting place tomorrow. Finally she lifted the chunk of bark that had served as a rough altar, but as she did her hand touched something which made her jump back with a cry. The hair on her arms rose in fear. Gingerly she reached forward again, groping in the freezing grass, and her fingers closed around the smooth bone handle of the gathering knife. Leveret knew for certain that it hadn’t been there when she started – Mother Heggy must have been with her all along.