Shadows at Stonewylde

23



On the morning of Imbolc Leveret awoke long before dawn. She lay silently in her bed and felt calm, accepting the role she’d been given and the honour she hadn’t sought. She was to be the Bright Maiden of Imbolc and had Mother Heggy’s blessing; by making contact through Magpie, the Wise Woman’s message was clear. At Old Heggy’s bidding, channelled through Magpie, Leveret’s image was depicted up in the Stone Circle for all to see. So now it was Leveret’s duty to accept the role of Maiden Huntress whether she wished it or not.

Deep inside she was terrified about the day ahead; the ordeal of standing up in front of the entire community, dancing and chanting, being the focus of everyone’s attention. It went against her nature but Leveret knew she must face it. She felt that Mother Heggy would be watching over her today and ensuring she did the whole thing properly. She wanted so much to make her mother proud and to prove wrong everyone who thought she was a bad choice. Kestrel would be delighted with her – and maybe she’d even manage to please her grim brother Yul.

She lay warm in bed and tried to contact Mother Heggy and her raven, but saw nothing apart from a brief flash of blue-black quills. So instead she imagined all the people who’d be up already in the darkness. The baker and his assistants would be making the special Imbolc bread, the sweet rolls in the shape of a crescent moon that everyone loved so much. Sylvie would probably be awake as she must be in the Circle for the dawn too and had her own robes to don and words to run through. Yul would be there also, as the magus, but his role was minimal today. Imbolc was a female ceremony, the only one where the women led and the men took a back seat.

In the Barn, women would soon be arriving to check all the maidens’ head-dresses and make sure the decorations were properly in place. The Barn had looked lovely yesterday when she finally left, with white candles everywhere and silver crescent moons and arrows hanging from the rafters. Edward and his helpers would be setting up the straw targets ready for the archery display on the Green, and the little dais where the Bright Maiden would sit and hand out trophies to the winners. Kestrel would be waking soon to don his costume as the Green Archer. He’d look gorgeous in the traditional green jerkin and leggings, brown boots and jaunty hat.

Leveret heard Maizie moving around in the room next to hers and knew this was the last peace and quiet she’d have today; once her mother was up and about the busy day would begin in earnest. Then she remembered her brothers and Jay and a black doubt crept into her heart. She knew they were plotting something; they’d hinted at it enough times. It was bad enough knowing they’d be laughing and jeering in the crowd as she performed the dances and sang the songs, without worrying about what else they had in store for her. They’d ridiculed her ever since she was tiny and taking part in her first ceremonies. They were why she now dreaded being the Maiden. They’d always spoiled everything and she felt a sudden rush of anger at the way they’d blighted her life. What a different person she’d be today if they’d treated her kindly, or at least as most brothers treat their little sisters. Leveret wondered yet again what they’d planned for her today that filled them with such glee, and shuddered at the thought.

Last night they’d called round to ‘wish her luck’. Fortunately Jay hadn’t been with them, although Maizie probably wouldn’t have let him in the house anyway. They’d sat in the armchairs by the fire sniggering to each other while Maizie bustled in the kitchen, a delicious smell of baking wafting into the sitting room.

‘Come and sit down, Mother!’ called Sweyn. ‘You work too hard.’

‘I will in a minute, Sweyn love,’ Maizie had replied. ‘I’m just doing Leveret’s breakfast for the morning. She’ll have such a long day and she’ll need to keep her strength up.’

Their mother had always done this on festival days – knowing it would be a rush and there’d be no time to cook a normal breakfast she laid out their breakfast the night before. She usually baked little cakes and left two on each person’s plate under a cloth, with a mug ready for milk. It was one of the kind things she always did, one of the many things that made her a special mother and earned their love, even from boys like Sweyn and Gefrin.

Finally she’d come to sit down, bringing a big plate of extra cakes with her. She still baked enough for seven children even though there was only one left at home. The boys loved their mother’s baking and had tucked in ravenously, devouring the delicious little cakes in no time. When Sweyn had gone through the kitchen to use the privy in the back garden, Maizie had called out jokingly to keep his hands off Leveret’s breakfast lying under the cloth on the dresser. On more than one occasion in the past he’d eaten her cakes as well as his own, before she got the chance.

‘I wish you boys were taking part in the archery display,’ she’d said as they sat round the fire together.

‘Don’t like archery, Mother,’ mumbled Gefrin through a mouthful of cake.

‘I know, your father didn’t neither, nor Geoffrey and Gregory,’ she’d said. ‘Yul’s always loved it though.’

There was a silence at this. The fact that Yul had a different father had always been a sore point. Sweyn and Gefrin couldn’t stand the idea of a young and pretty Maizie catching Magus’ eye and being pregnant before she married their father. The mood in the cottage darkened and eventually Maizie had shooed them out, saying she and Leveret must be awake very early in the morning and needed their sleep. They’d stood up, grinning at their sister as Maizie went into the kitchen to stoke up the range for the night.

‘We’re so looking forward to your big day tomorrow,’ said Gefrin, his narrow face alive with mirth. ‘We’ll be there looking out for you as always.’

Sweyn had come over to her chair and she’d shrunk up trying to avoid any contact with him, scared he’d hurt her again. But he’d bent and ruffled her hair in a travesty of affection.

‘How’s the stomach, Hare-brain?’ he asked softly. ‘Still painful?’

She’d glared at him, despising him with all her heart.

‘Don’t look at me like that, Lev – it just makes me want to punch you again. Oh, I have a message for you from Jay. He said to remind you what an ugly little bitch you are and how he’ll laugh when he sees you dolled up in your stupid clothes tomorrow. And so will we – everyone will laugh, especially when you make a fool of yourself, as we know you will.’

‘Why are you always like this? Why can’t you …’

Maizie had come back in then.

‘Haven’t you boys gone yet?’

‘Just wishing Leveret good luck for tomorrow, Mother. We can’t wait to see her all dressed up.’

‘Oh, you’ll be amazed!’ beamed Maizie happily, kissing both boys soundly on their cheeks. ‘She looks so lovely in the Imbolc clothes and you’ll be really proud of her.’

‘We can’t wait, Mother.’

Then they’d gone, Sweyn making a flick gesture at Leveret behind their mother’s back. And that, Leveret had thought with a flash of insight, was the real problem. Maizie saw what she wanted to see and no more; it was no reflection on her kindness and love, it was just how she dealt with life. She’d eliminated all the bad things that had made her so unhappy in the past by focusing resolutely on the good things, such as family unity. Leveret couldn’t be the one to make her face the reality of Alwyn’s legacy to his two youngest sons. She couldn’t and wouldn’t break her mother’s heart by revealing their predisposition to cruelty and bullying that bolstered itself up by victimising the weak.

*

Leveret got out of bed as Maizie came in with a jug of hot water.

‘Ah, you’re awake my little Maiden. Bright blessings for Imbolc! Come here and let me kiss you.’

She hugged her mother, grimacing at the embrace as her stomach was still so sore. Maizie poured hot water into her earthenware bowl and started fiddling with the flannel and soap.

‘Mother, I can wash myself!’ Leveret smiled. ‘Stop fussing over me.’

Maizie left her bedroom whilst she quickly washed and pulled on the camisole and petticoat, but insisted on returning to help put on the special dress. When Leveret was laced up at the back she stood aside to admire her daughter.

‘’Tis perfect and fits a treat. You look so lovely in white.’

The dress was similar in style to the green one she’d worn at Yuletide, tight around the bodice and waist, with long pointed sleeves. The full skirts reached almost to the ground and ended in points, each one tipped with a green glass bead. Snowdrops were embroidered around the neck line, their green foliage making a pretty pattern that linked together to form a chain. She wore dainty green leather boots with heels, and later on in the Barn she would change them for silver dancing shoes.

When Maizie had admired her and tweaked at the lacing to her satisfaction, she sat Leveret down straight-backed in front of the small mirror and brushed her hair vigorously before sweeping the mass of long curls up and pinning them in a loose knot on her crown. Once again the transformation was startling – from wild-haired girl to an exquisite young woman. Then Maizie carefully lifted the head-dress and placed it on her head. It was a fine wicker wreath painted silver and interlaced with a whole drift of snowdrops, and it had sat outside in the cold all night so as not to wilt. On the front was an ancient crescent moon made from real silver that glimmered in the candle-light. It sat perfectly on Leveret’s head giving her added stature and making her green eyes seem enormous. Maizie sighed with pleasure.

‘Leveret, my little one, you’re the most beautiful Maiden there’s ever been,’ she breathed. ‘Even more beautiful than Sylvie was all those years gone by.’

Leveret smiled and thought wryly how blind a mother’s love could be. They went downstairs then and Maizie placed the special, heavy robes around her shoulders. The myriad silver moons embroidered on the snowy white material glinted and sparkled in the candlelight, and Leveret began to feel a little more confident. The Bright Maiden’s robes were a delight and wearing them, as countless other young girls had done over the years, made her feel magical.

‘Right, the carriage will be here any minute to collect us so there’s just time for your breakfast.’

Maizie rushed off into the kitchen and Leveret groaned at the thought of food. Her stomach was churning; cakes were the last things she wanted now. But ever anxious not to hurt her mother’s feelings, she nibbled a cake and sipped at the milk.

‘Come on, girl, get it down you! I know you’re nervous but you’ll feel better for having something in your belly. And it’ll be so cold up in that Circle. No, not just one – eat ’em both.’

Leveret forced the second cake down – they seemed heavier than usual with an after-taste too, though maybe that was just her nerves. She felt the crumbs sticking in her throat and hastily swallowed some milk, not wanting a choking fit now.

‘Aren’t you having any, Mother?’

‘No, I only left these two out for you. Those boys were so hungry last night that I brought in the lot apart from yours. I’ll have breakfast later in the Barn. Right, quickly brush your teeth and nip down to the privy. Mind your dress and boots!’

When Leveret returned from the earth closet outside she found her sister Rosie in the cottage talking with their mother. Rosie was all bundled up against the early morning chill and she carried a lantern.

‘I just popped in to wish you well today, Leveret,’ she said, kissing her little sister’s cheek. She stood back and surveyed her.

‘Don’t she look beautiful?’ said Maizie, pulling on her own cloak and woollen hat. ‘My special little Imbolc Maiden.’

‘Aye,’ said Rosie, staring at Leveret. ‘’Tis amazing how she’s transformed – a green caterpillar into a white butterfly. Leveret, I’m proud o’ you being chosen but make sure you do your best today, won’t you? You know all the words and the steps?’

Leveret nodded, her stomach somersaulting queasily.

‘My little Snowdrop’s so excited that her auntie’s the Bright Maiden, and so are Celandine and Bluebell,’ said Rosie. ‘Celandine has worked really hard so do make sure you say something kind to her, won’t you? ‘Tis her dearest wish that you’re pleased with her special dance.’

Leveret nodded again, still tasting the grease from the cakes and wishing she’d never eaten them.

‘I’m very nervous but I’ll do my best today,’ she said quietly.

‘That were kind o’ you to come specially to wish her well,’ said Maizie, looking for her mittens.

‘Aye, well …’

As Maizie went into the kitchen looking for the mittens, Rosie grabbed Leveret’s arm and whispered to her urgently.

‘Don’t let Mother down again, will you? She’s so very, very proud o’ you and it’ll break her heart if you spoil today. That’s what I really came to say.’

‘No, Rosie, of course I won’t,’ said Leveret, hurt that her sister had no faith in her.

‘Don’t sound so surprised!’ hissed Rosie sharply. ‘We both know that—’

She stopped as Maizie came back in the room and then the carriage arrived and they were off, with old Tom at the reins, up to the Stone Circle.

It was still dark up there and very wintry indeed. Leveret trembled with cold and nerves and was relieved that so few people attended this ceremony. Flickering lanterns had been placed under each stone making the darkness even deeper somehow. Yul was dressed in green robes decorated with crescents and stood behind the Altar Stone scowling at everyone. He’d been furious to discover the painting of the hare with green eyes on the biggest stone, not wishing his sister to be honoured any more than was strictly necessary. Sylvie looked beautiful in her silver and white ceremonial robes and smiled warmly at Leveret when she arrived.

‘You look lovely,’ she whispered. ‘I know how you feel – I was terrified at my Imbolc ceremony too. And happy birthday, Leveret! You’re fifteen today, aren’t you?’

Leveret had completely forgotten that, as had Maizie. Then Kestrel arrived with his father, looking strikingly handsome in the green outfit with a great cloak swirling round him. He looked at her admiringly and put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

‘They made the right choice, Leveret – you’re gorgeous. Pity it’s not your sixteenth birthday today.’

She blushed at this and looked at the ground as her insides gave another queasy leap.

The ceremony started well, the intimate atmosphere making it feel all the more magical. Leveret remembered what she had to do, which wasn’t much at this ceremony beyond making some sweeping gestures with the traditional besom, stepping forward at the right moment to take the ceremonial silver bow from the Green Archer and chanting a few lines. Sylvie did most of the work, delivering her words faultlessly, her lovely clear voice rising out of the Circle. The sky gradually lightened to the south-east, becoming brighter and paler in the chill air and finally the sun rose, golden and bright. The bonfire was lit and crackled into life as Yul chanted on the Altar Stone, receiving the Earth Magic from its source and standing with his arms outstretched, his head tipped back.

He felt a mere flicker of energy pass through him and was bitterly disappointed. He’d really hoped that at this festival the Earth Magic would return to him but once more his hopes were dashed. He thought back to the night before with Sylvie. They were going through the motions and Sylvie was doing her best but clearly not feeling anything of her former passion or abandonment with him. He felt a surge of anger that completely doused the faint tingle of Earth Magic. What was the matter with her? It wasn’t all his fault.

When the people came to receive the energy from him, their obvious disappointment made him feel impotent. What he’d dreaded had come to pass and he glanced angrily at Sylvie, standing stony-faced and watching him with sadness in her eyes. He didn’t need her damn sympathy either. Leveret came forward then in her glimmering robes and despite his anger with her, he had to admit she was a perfect Maiden, tiny and delicate and so very pretty. She smiled tentatively up at him but he glared back at her, his face hard, and her smile faltered and died. She bowed her head as he took her hands in his, and withdrew them quickly when she realised that once again there was no jolt of magic flooding from him.

It wasn’t until the cakes and mead were passed around that Leveret started to feel really strange. She swallowed her cake and felt sick, still full from her breakfast. She quickly gulped down the mead and then regretted it, thinking she actually might be sick. She swayed slightly and Kestrel, standing next to her, put out a steadying hand. After that he held her hand and she was grateful for the warmth and comfort of it, and stunned that she was holding hands with the boy of her dreams.

Then the ceremony was over and Yul climbed down from the Altar Stone and went over to the bonfire to warm his hands. He felt humiliated about the lack of energy he’d passed on, and deeply concerned about where this was leading. He’d been magus for thirteen years – why was this happening now? The only consolation was that there weren’t many here today to witness it; hopefully he could rely on people’s loyalty not to tell the whole community. By the Spring Equinox he had to have the problem sorted and he glanced over to Sylvie who was talking with Greenbough. She must start moondancing at Hare Stone again – maybe that’d do the trick.

As he dwelled on his problems Leveret, standing near Sylvie and her mother, started to hallucinate. The ground was rising and falling in great waves which made her feel dizzy. She looked across the great Circle; Greenbough had moved away to speak to Martin and Edward near the entrance to the Long Walk, and Yul still stood by the bonfire.

‘Who’s that man with Yul?’ she asked, her voice sounding faraway in her ears. Maizie and Sylvie looked up.

‘What man?’ asked Maizie. ‘There’s no man with Yul.’

‘Yes there is – a tall man. Look, standing right by him.’

They both frowned at her.

‘Really there’s no one there, Leveret,’ said Maizie. ‘’Tis just Yul on his own, warming his hands. It must be the firelight playing tricks with your eyes.’

Leveret stared again.

‘There! He’s moved around the fire and now he’s facing us.’

Sylvie had turned very pale all of a sudden and she closed her eyes in despair. The man looked up then, staring straight across the Circle at Leveret. His silvery hair gleamed in the firelight as he smiled at her, bowing his head in a gracious gesture of deference to the Bright Maiden. Leveret smiled back and then blinked in surprise as he seemed to dissolve before her eyes, leaving Yul standing alone by the flickering flames of the Imbolc fire.

Two carriages were waiting at the end of the Long Walk as Sylvie had arrived in one too; it was important that the women’s lovely white and silver robes and dresses remained unmuddied. Sylvie climbed into the same one as Leveret, so Maizie and Miranda shared the other one and everyone else walked as usual. As they drove back to the Village Sylvie looked sideways at her sister-in-law, who sat bolt upright staring ahead.

‘Are you feeling alright, Leveret?’

She was feeling far from alright. The tiny carriage seemed to be breathing around her, closing in on her and then receding again. She felt very strange indeed and wished that Clip were here, but he’d told her that today he must celebrate privately in the Dolmen.

‘Yes.’

Sylvie swallowed and clasped her hands to stop them trembling.

‘That man you saw in the Circle near Yul – can you tell me what he looked like?’

‘I don’t know,’ mumbled Leveret, trying to focus her eyes.

‘Please, Leveret, it’s really important,’ said Sylvie urgently, her heart beating wildly. ‘Please try and describe him. I have to know what you saw.’

‘He was big and tall and he had blond hair like Martin’s and Clip’s. But … it was strange … apart from his hair and his age he looked exactly like Yul.’

Sylvie sat back in her seat abruptly and took a ragged breath, relief flooding through her.

‘Thank you, Leveret,’ she said quietly, her voice shaking. ‘At least I know now I’m not going mad.’

Breakfast was laid out in the Barn – sweet crescent-shaped rolls and a warming brew of milk, honey and malt. Leveret could face none of it and sat silently in her own world as people gradually started to arrive for the day’s festivities. After breakfast there was a brief opening ceremony led by Sylvie, who passed another beribboned besom to the Bright Maiden who must ceremonially sweep away the winter debris ready for the shoots of spring.

Then the Green Archer had to perform his first duty of the day. A tall ladder was brought in, also decorated with white ribbons, and placed upright against a rafter. After bowing to his Bright Maiden, Kestrel began to ascend steadily, the crowd chanting as each rung was climbed, until he reached the rafter. There lay the great Corn Spirit dolly on a nest of woven straw. Carefully Kestrel lifted the huge spiralling neck of woven and plaited stalks, its wheat ears still fanned out at one end, though spilling a few kernels, the red, gold and green ribbons dusty and a little cobwebbed. He placed the huge dolly, as long as his arm but even thicker, into a wicker pannier strapped to his belt. He descended to excited cheers and solemnly handed the dolly to Leveret with a sweeping bow. She took the huge dusty neck in her arms and stared blankly at him.

‘Put it on the table, Leveret!’ he whispered helpfully, worried that she was becoming overcome with nerves. ‘Remember? “The Corn Spirit has survived the winter and is with us at Imbolc – soon she will return to the land.” Say the words!’

She managed to repeat this, with a little more prompting from Kestrel, then everyone donned their cloaks and went out onto the Village Green for the archery displays. It passed in a blur for Leveret. The trees appeared to be moving around the Green, engaged in their own Imbolc dance. She sat on a special carved chair that had been set up on the little dais, pale-faced and impassive in her white and silver robes, the great head-dress giving her a regal aura. She attracted a great deal of attention for she looked so lovely and many people hadn’t seen her transformation at the Outsiders’ Dance. Celandine came up shyly and told her she was the most beautiful Maiden she’d ever seen, but Leveret could only gaze down at the little girl with unfocused eyes and Celandine crept away, disappointed.

As the morning wore on she felt more and more surreal. People were moving strangely, their voices coming as if from the end of a long tunnel. Faces loomed suddenly in front of her, mouths stretched in odd grimaces, and then disappeared again. She looked at the arrows arching through the sky and saw rainbows trailing from the fletchings, each arrow briefly silhouetted against the cold, grey winter’s sky. Finally the competitions came to an end and she must present the winners with their silver trophies – a miniature bow and arrow mounted on a piece of yew. She stood and the world swam sharply around her, faces and trees and lots of green grass. Silently she handed out the trophies, feeling as if she were balancing on stilts and scared she might topple over.

Rufus won in his age-category and came up to the dais to collect his trophy. Like Celandine, he smiled shyly at Leveret remembering their conversation that day in the Dining Hall.

‘Thank you, Bright Maiden,’ he said, lowering himself to one knee before her as was the custom. Prompted by Kestrel, she handed the boy his trophy but didn’t say a word, looking straight through him with no recognition at all. His face fell.

‘Excellent bowmanship!’ said Kestrel kindly, trying to compensate for his partner’s increasingly worrying behaviour. ‘I shall have to watch out for you, Rufus – you’ll be challenging me soon.’

Everyone then moved indoors for the lunch laid out on long trestle tables up and down the Barn. Leveret, whose outer robes had now been removed, sat at the centre of the top table with Kestrel by her side. She looked down at the plate in front of her in surprise; it appeared to be spinning around very fast. People were putting bizarre objects in their mouths and making a lot of noise. Maizie, frantically busy helping organise the food, appeared at her shoulder.

‘What’s the matter, love? Have something to eat, for goddess’ sake – you look so pale. You got all the dancing and chants to do this afternoon, Leveret. ‘Tis your busy time so keep your strength up, my girl.’

Kestrel tried to make conversation but she merely stared at him. Her pupils were enormous, like a cat’s eyes in the dark. Her brothers had always said she was weird and they were right – she was making him feel uncomfortable and he couldn’t understand how the shy but competent girl he’d rehearsed with had turned into this silent automaton. He spoke to Faun instead, on his other side, Rowan having somehow secured her daughter a place right next to him at the top table. Faun was in her element, tossing back her blond ringlets and flashing her dark eyes at him, loving every minute of his attention. She flirted quite outrageously in a way an older girl couldn’t have done, but at the same time played on the fact that it was her thirteenth birthday which she said made her feel very grown up all of a sudden. She also made much of the fact that she was Magus’ daughter and had true Hallfolk blood in her veins. Then she began to make funny comments about the unresponsive Maiden seated next to him, who stared around her slowly in unnatural wonder. Before long Faun and Kestrel were roaring with laughter at their oblivious victim.

The feast was well underway when the Barn doors were thrown open to the cold and in came three unexpected visitors, cloaked against the wintry weather outside. There was a ripple of shock – it was a long time since Violet, Vetchling and Starling had attended any ceremonies or festivals. They kept to themselves in their cottage at the end of the lane and conducted their own private rituals to mark the turning wheel of the year. But they were perfectly entitled to join in if they wished and, with a bit of disruption, space was found for them at the end of long table. The two crones hobbled towards their seats, muttering and casting malignant glances all around as people stared at them. Starling waddled along in their wake, more used to contact with the community as she was a frequent visitor to the food stores in the Village.

They established themselves around the end of the table with much fussing and grumbling. Starling began to eat steadily while the crones sucked and smacked their gums on whatever soft morsels they could manage. Everyone was speculating about their unforeseen attendance but kept their glances surreptitious, not wanting to be caught by the crones. Marigold hovered protectively by Magpie whom she’d seated near the kitchen entrance where she could keep an eye on him. She was so proud of him, sitting up at the table using his cutlery with reasonable accuracy for the very first time at a public festival. He looked clean and smart, his face glowing and hair glossy, and she wasn’t going to let those evil witches spoil his day. He’d jumped up in fear when they’d entered but Cherry and Marigold had pulled him back down in his seat, soothing him and promising that nobody would let the three women take him back to the hovel at the end of the lane.

Leveret had stared in horror as the three black birds hopped down the Barn to sit at the far end. She could see them pecking at their food, gobbling and squawking. Then she noticed her brothers and Jay sitting further down another table but constantly looking her way and laughing. Jay caught her glance and raised a hand in greeting, grinning from ear to ear. She saw his face splitting open like an over-ripe peach, all red inside, and she gasped in horror and made the sign of the pentangle on her chest for protection. Several people nearby watched her in fascination for she was acting very oddly indeed.

Kestrel was feeling increasingly uncomfortable about her behaviour and looked around for somebody he could voice his concerns to. She’d not eaten or drunk anything and barely said a word to him, and what had started out as funny behaviour was now becoming serious. He could see Maizie but she was very busy, as were many of the older women, bustling about with large plates of food and jugs of drink and making sure the tables were well stocked. Sylvie was sitting far away with all the little maidens in their white dresses and Yul was over by the bar. The whole Barn was alive with movement and merriment but there nobody he could confide his misgivings to. He even looked about for Hazel but she was nowhere to be seen. The afternoon was going to be long and arduous and he couldn’t see how Leveret would cope. He wished that the bubbly and vivacious Faun could take Leveret’s place. They should never have chosen her as Maiden.

Finally the feast ended. The tables were cleared and stacked away and the floor prepared for the afternoon’s events. Many people went outside onto the Green for a stroll and some fresh air and some even went home to their cottages for a rest. Kestrel rose and looked down at Leveret, who still sat bolt upright staring blankly ahead as if she were in another world. He shook his head in despair – he had a horrible feeling she was going to make him look like a fool this afternoon.

‘Up you get, Leveret,’ he said, putting a hand on her arm and encouraging her to rise. She gazed up at him and he was shocked at the vacancy in her eyes. She stood, swaying like a sapling in a gale, and he grabbed her to stop her falling.

‘The birds are coming in to roost,’ she mumbled. ‘All the birds are gathering.’

Faun caught his eye and burst into peals of laughter.

‘It’s not funny, Faun,’ he said desperately. ‘I’ve got to dance with her. What the hell am I going to do?’

‘I should’ve been the maiden,’ she murmured, rubbing against his arm. ‘I wouldn’t let you down.’

Maizie was still occupied organising the clearing up. Sylvie had gathered some of the little girls at one end of the barn and was going through their lines with them. People were milling around everywhere moving furniture and benches, all busy and engrossed in what had to be done and looking forward to the afternoon’s events. Kestrel glanced around frantically for someone to help. Yul leant against the wall watching the scene with a dark scowl and Kestrel managed to catch his eye, signalling his urgency. Yul strode over to where Kestrel stood holding Leveret upright.

‘Yul, I don’t know what to do! Look at her – she’s on another planet.’

Yul frowned at his sister, tipping her chin so he could look into her face. He saw her deathly-white demeanour and glassy eyes, the pupils huge and black, and his face darkened.

‘Sacred Mother! What the hell’s the matter with her?’

Kestrel shook his head hopelessly.

‘She’s been like this ever since we got here. She hasn’t eaten or drunk anything and she keeps saying strange things.’

‘This is bloody typical!’ Yul spat. ‘Leveret up to her dramatics again, letting people down and ruining her mother’s day. She looks like she’s taken drugs.’

‘Where’s Hazel?’ asked Kestrel, scanning the crowds.

‘Not here today – she stayed on duty at the Hall with some of the sicker folk in the ward. She’s really needed up there as one of them isn’t expected to last the day.’

He grasped his sister’s slight shoulders and shook her.

‘LEVERET! Pull yourself together, girl! You’re the Bright Maiden, remember? You’re letting everyone down!’

She stared at him.

‘The darkness within you is too dark now – it’s a black evil and staining everything.’

‘DON’T TALK RUBBISH, GIRL!’ he shouted in her face. He turned to Kestrel. ‘Goddess but I’d like to shake her! How dare she do this today of all days?’

Just then Sweyn and Gefrin came up, having spotted the huddle around Leveret. They’d left Jay with his trio of women in the corner where they’d firmly ensconced themselves, marking out their territory.

‘Is something the matter, Yul?’ asked Sweyn.

‘Leveret’s looking a bit odd,’ remarked Gefrin.

‘Too bloody right she’s a bit odd!’ snapped Yul. ‘She’s out of her bloody head and I don’t know what to do with her! She must’ve taken something – her damn mushrooms again, I shouldn’t wonder.’

‘Shall we take her outside for some fresh air?’ suggested Sweyn. ‘We could walk her round the Green a couple of times – maybe that’d clear her head.’

Yul glanced at him gratefully. Sweyn reminded him forcibly of his brutish step father but the lad couldn’t help that and maybe Maizie was right – these two gormless half-brothers of his seemed to have improved with age.

‘Excellent idea! Thanks. March her around and try to sort her out, would you? And keep her well away from Mother – I don’t want her upset today.’

‘No – Mother was so excited about Leveret being the Maiden.’

‘I know,’ said Yul gloomily. ‘I said this damn girl should never’ve been picked. Look at the state of her!’

‘Don’t worry, Yul, we’ll deal with her,’ said Gefrin.

‘Try to get her to eat or drink something if you can. Kestrel says she’s had nothing at all.’

‘We’ve got just the thing,’ said Sweyn, smiling slightly.

‘And take the head-dress off – she’s too conspicuous like that. Find something plain to cover her up with so nobody realises it’s her. I’ll get Rosie to keep Mother out of the way.’

Gefrin nodded eagerly and Sweyn took his sister’s arm.

‘Come on, Levvy – let’s go and sober you up.’

Wanting only to be shot of the embarrassment, Kestrel was more than happy to let them lead her away, one on each side holding her up. He turned to find someone a little more amenable to his charms than this awful partner who’d been foisted on him. He saw the delightful Faun now standing amongst a group of giggling girls and made his way over to them. Faun was much too young for now, but what promise for later!

Leveret was hustled into a small side room where the boys quickly snatched off the snowdrop and silver wicker head-dress, flinging a plain black cloak over her beautiful white dress and pulling the hood up. They had to get her out quickly before Maizie could come looking, and hoped Rosie would keep her away. They managed to get Leveret outside unnoticed and bundled her onto the Green, through the throngs of people milling around and towards the denser trees at the far end. Before they’d got half way Jay had run up behind them laughing in triumph.

‘Got her out, then?’

‘Piece o’ cake!’ cried Gefrin, nearly wetting himself at his own joke.

‘And better still, that murdering bastard is pleased with us for doing it!’ said Sweyn, tugging at Leveret’s arm beneath the black cloak as she stumbled along beside him. ‘He actually thinks we’re doing him a favour.’

They all laughed at this.

‘Let’s have a look at her, then,’ said Jay, trying to peer under her hood.

‘Wait till we’re under the trees,’ said Sweyn. ‘We got plenty of time. After all, they can’t start the festival without her, can they?’

They went quite deep into the wood where they wouldn’t be seen by anyone on the Green.

‘What do we do now?’ asked Gefrin.

‘Not much we can do except give her the potion. Those cakes worked a treat, didn’t they?’ said Jay gleefully. ‘She is so out of it. Leveret! Can you hear me, Leveret?’

He passed a hand close to her eyes but she didn’t blink. Slowly she turned her face towards him and stared intently into his eyes.

‘This will come to an end,’ she said tonelessly. ‘You’ll suffer. I know – I’ve been told.’

‘Bloody crazy bitch!’ he hissed, hating the way she looked right through him with her wild, glassy eyes. ‘You’re the one who’s going to suffer, believe me. STOP STARING AT ME!’

‘Let’s sit her down and get that stuff inside her,’ suggested Sweyn.

They pulled her onto the ground, thick with leaf-mould, and propped her up against the trunk of an elm tree. She sat impassively, her legs straight out in front of her, gazing up at the rooks flapping about in the bare branches overhead.

‘’Tis a pity we can’t do anything else to her today,’ said Gefrin.

‘Where’s the potion then?’ asked Sweyn looking at Jay, who produced a small bottle from his pocket. He pulled out the cork stopper and sniffed the murky liquid, grimacing with disgust.

‘Right, you dozy cow – time for a little top-up. Just what the doctor ordered – or do I mean Old Violet? Open wide!’

He cradled her head roughly and tried to push the mouth of the bottle between her lips. He tipped her head back and pulled her chin down, pouring the contents into her mouth. She swallowed a little but began to choke, the liquid running down her chin.

‘Watch out! You’ll mess up the dress and somebody’ll notice,’ said Sweyn.

But Jay was determined to make her drink it all and kept going until the little bottle was empty.

‘There, taken your medicine like a good girl,’ he laughed, wiping her mouth with his sleeve. ‘Now all we have to do is sit back and watch – should be fun!’

Gefrin giggled wildly.

‘Is it the same stuff that were in the cakes?’

‘No, completely different. Violet said it’d mix well with some great effects. It’ll wear off some time tonight, but that’s okay – the festival will be over by then and she’ll be in such trouble. Did you put the mushrooms by her bed?’

The brothers nodded, grinning slyly.

‘I suppose we better get her back then,’ said Sweyn.

They stood up and Jay yanked Leveret roughly to her feet. She fell into him like a rag doll and he caught her under her arms, making her sway around. There was no resistance at all.

‘You’re right, Gef,’ he murmured. ‘Pity we can’t have more fun with her while she’s like this. Maybe another time.’

Yul was waiting for them outside the Barn, glowering across the Green. He watched them approaching slowly with Leveret supported between them. Jay had already slipped off to the side of the Barn not wanting any connection made to his family.

‘Any luck?’ Yul barked. ‘Is she back with us now or still orbiting the moon?’

‘I’m not sure,’ said Sweyn. ‘She’s still very floppy but she’s starting to speak more.’

‘Well done and thanks for trying. We’ve made a contingency plan in case the dance goes wrong. And all her chants – Harold’s just brought photocopies down. The other girls will have to read it all out instead of her. I can’t believe she’s done this – just wait till I get my hands on her tomorrow!’

‘Did you say you thought she’d been at the mushrooms?’ asked Sweyn nonchalantly.

‘Yes I did. It’s possible, isn’t it? We’ll find out tomorrow. Come on, let’s get her inside now and put the headdress back on her.’

Leveret stood passively while her three brothers whipped the cloak off and tried to reposition the head-dress. Sylvie came into the side-room, quickly shutting the door behind her.

‘Thank goddess she’s alright and hasn’t fainted. You shouldn’t have taken her outside in the cold – why didn’t you come and find me? Leveret, what’s wrong?’

She looked anxiously at the pale girl.

‘You won’t get any sense out of her!’ snapped Yul. ‘Give us a hand with this thing, would you?’

‘We’ve got to be quick,’ said Sylvie, hurriedly arranging the head-dress onto Leveret’s mass of curls. The top-knot had fallen down when Jay shook her and there was no time to re-pin it. ‘Everyone’s waiting out there. She’s in no fit state to dance, is she? Let’s leave the green boots on and forget about the silver shoes. We’ll just sit her on the Maiden’s chair in the middle, as we agreed, and Celandine will do Leveret’s dance with Kestrel. The others have got the lines and we’ve had a very quick practice. It’ll be alright.’

‘It’s a bloody disaster!’ growled Yul, pulling Leveret roughly towards the door. ‘Look at the state of her! Poor Mother – she’s going to be devastated.’

Sylvie peered into Leveret’s glassy eyes – her green irises were almost swallowed up by her dilated pupils. Then Yul opened the door and led her out to the waiting crowd who all turned, eager to see the arrival of the Bright Maiden. As Sylvie followed Leveret into the huge room a distant memory stirred in her mind. She remembered a Dark Moon thirteen years ago, when she’d entered this very Barn wearing a scarlet cloak, floating in to a sea of faces on a cloud of hallucinogen.