Shadows at Stonewylde (57 page)

‘I’m the magus! It’s part of my role to mete out justice.’

‘You sound like an arrogant pig-headed brute to me!’

‘So now you’re resorting to cheap insults? This is all your fault anyway!’

She glared at him, her head pounding with pain.

‘I wondered when you’d bring this up!’ she yelled. ‘I knew from the minute I saw Leveret falling apart that I’d get the blame. You couldn’t wait to say “I told you so”, could you?’

‘Not at all! I went along with your decision even though I didn’t agree with it. I let you have your own way yet again. But now we both know how wrong you were. You made a serious error of judgement and clearly you should’ve consulted me about it first.’

‘Why should I? You never consult
me
about anything! You never,
ever
ask my opinion. You’re as arrogant as your father was.’

‘No I’m not!’

‘Yes you are, Yul! You’re like him in almost every way. There are days when it could be him here and not you, dominating and pushing everyone around. Sometimes I wonder just how like him you’re going to become. Will you bring back whipping for anyone who stands up to you? Will you start taking girls up to the Stone Circle on their sixteenth birthdays?’

He’d stepped forward at her tirade, towering over her as she sat on the sofa. She leapt up to stand face to face with him, refusing to give him any advantage. Now they glared at each other, anger in their eyes and their hearts. Yul took a deep breath to calm himself; rage was making his hands shake.

‘Well, Sylvie,’ he said bitterly, ‘if I ever did resort to that we’d both know why. Being married to someone so cold and unresponsive who doesn’t want you is enough to drive anyone to desperate measures.’

‘What rubbish! The only reason I don’t want you is—’

She stopped abruptly, aware too late of the crevasse that loomed suddenly at her feet. Yul smiled slightly and his voice became silky.

‘Yes, Sylvie? You were about to tell me why you’ve become so frigid – why the thought of me leaves you cold when it used to set you on fire. I think we’ve reached the heart of the matter, haven’t we?’

But she shook her head and sat down again, refusing to be drawn.

‘I’m very tired, Yul, and it’s been a long day. I’m exhausted – all I want to do is sleep.’

‘I knew today would be too much for you and I was right,’ he said firmly. ‘You should’ve let Miranda lead the ceremonies as I suggested.’

‘Oh for goodness’ sake, shut up! I’m fine.’

‘You just said you were exhausted! Getting confused again, are you, Sylvie? You need a day in bed tomorrow to get your strength back. I won’t let you become ill again.’

‘I’m NOT falling ill again! Stop using that as an excuse to keep me in my place! I’ve had just about enough of you, Yul – you’re bullying Leveret and bullying me. You’re turning into a hard, arrogant bastard! You’re not the boy I fell in love with.’

‘No, Sylvie, I’m not,’ he said quietly, an edge to his voice. ‘I’m the magus now and things are different.’

‘Too right they’re different!’ she cried. ‘You wonder why I don’t want you anymore but look at what you’ve become. You don’t even feel the Earth Magic now, do you? It’s abandoned you, just as it did your father.’

This was finally too much for Yul. His eyes were hard and cold as he grasped her chin in his hand so she had to look him in the face. The shadows and firelight danced around him, hollowing his cheeks and making his grey eyes gleam.

‘And you don’t feel the moon magic any more either, do you Sylvie?’ he said softly. ‘You’re not the girl I fell in love with and all your magic has gone. You’re over-tired and not well and tomorrow you’re to spend the day resting quietly in bed. If you argue I’ll send Hazel to deal with you. I’m sick to death of this never-ending battle between us and things are going to change, because as from tonight I’ve had enough. It’s time you remembered what your duties are here. I’ll deal with my sister tomorrow, I’ll do it as I see fit, and I don’t expect any interference from you. Is that understood?’

She gazed into his eyes and felt her will to fight him drain away. It was too much effort right now and she just wanted to be rid of him. She nodded, hoping he’d disappear into his office and she’d be free of him until tomorrow.

‘That’s more like it.’

He stood up and went to pour himself a large glass of wine. Savouring it, he watched her narrowly as her eyelids drooped with fatigue, her face almost as white as her dress.

‘Go and get ready for bed, Sylvie, and when I’ve had my wine I’ll join you. From now on I’m sleeping in our bed in my rightful place.’

I
n the filthy cottage at the end of the lane the three women sat toasting themselves and smoking their pipes in peaceful contentment. The two old crones’ faces were creased and lined, the dirt accentuating every wrinkle. Their toothless gums sucked at the stems of their pipes and they rocked gently in the warmth, slurping occasionally at their mead. Starling had eased out her rolls of flesh comfortably and propped her enormous legs on a stool; her feet were aching after such an active day. She was happily contemplating a further snack when she’d finished her pipe as she’d managed to cram a large bag full of left-overs from the feast. She belched loudly and patted the mass of her stomach in contentment.

‘Eh, but that were a good day’s work!’ mused Old Violet.

‘Aye, sister, a good day’s work. That set the weasel amongst the rabbits and got things a-going nicely.’

‘Made ’em look fools, didn’t we? Heh heh! That black-locked one – he were so angry! Shouldn’t wonder there’ll be trouble up at the Hall tonight, the state he’s in now.’

‘Aye, he’ll be spoiling for a fight. That skinny wife of his – she’ll be in for it tonight, no doubt. Stupid Outsider – she ain’t got no right to be here. She’ll get her come-uppance that one.’

‘And that hare-girl, his sister!’ chuckled Starling. ‘Didn’t she ever look a fool? Sitting like a carving when she should’ve been dancing and chanting. She were just a mommet with no life in her. You did well, Auntie – your cakes and potion were just the thing.’

‘Aye, just the thing. Old Violet knows how to mix a good potion and bake a good cake. Just like in Magus’ time when he used to come calling for his tins o’ cakes. Heh heh! Soon be like old times again only better this time around! We know, don’t we?’

‘Aye, sister, we know, we’ve seen. We know what’s a-coming – what’s come already, waiting in the shadows.’

The flames died lower to a red hot glow and still the three sat, reluctant to leave the heat of the fire and climb upstairs to their cold and foetid beds.

‘But what o’ the hare-girl? She were talking from beyond, weren’t she?’ whined Vetchling.

‘Aye, sister, from beyond. She has the gift, that one, and we must watch her with a sharp eye.’

‘Do you think she knows?’ asked Starling. ‘Does she know what she’s saying?’

‘Nay, shouldn’t think so. That were prophesying and she weren’t in this world, was she? Not with what we’d put inside her! That were another’s voice speaking through her mouth.’

‘Is she a danger to us?’

‘I’ve not seen it. But we’ll scry tomorrow and see what’s what. Shouldn’t be surprised if that old sow Heggy were trying to get through, but we can put a stop to that. She’s only a young maid, the Hare, with no wisdom and no knowledge o’ the old ways. We are three and we are strong and powerful. She ain’t no match for us three.’

‘Aye, you speak the truth, sister. We are on the wax and that dark-haired brat is on the wane. No sister can help him now – ‘tis all set.’

‘But nought is fixed,’ mumbled Starling through a thick mouthful. ‘You always told me that, Mother. All can be set but nought can be fixed.’

‘Wise words, Starling, wise words. But we can try to fix, can’t we? We can cast and we can summon, we can hex and we can blight. We have the wisdom, and the Hare does not – nor ever will.’

In the soft candlelight, Rowan gazed adoringly at her daughter. Faun was still flushed and her eyes bright from the dancing and heady wine. She lay now with her head on the snowy pillow, tattered ringlets spread about her. Rowan tenderly stroked her smooth skin.

‘I’ve brought you some milk, my little one. Try to drink it – it’s good for your complexion, especially after the wine.’

Faun sat up and dutifully drank from the cup her mother held to her lips.

‘Was I beautiful tonight, Mother?’

‘Oh yes, yes you were! You shone like a star,’ said Rowan, helping the girl to lie down again and plumping the pillow for her.

‘They should’ve chosen me. I was right all along.’

‘Yes, they should’ve. Leveret was a disgrace.’

‘Kestrel said it should’ve been me. He was all over me, Mother.’

‘I know, I was watching you. You played it just right – you made him aware of you, showed him your promise, but you held yourself back too. You’ve got age on your side, my darling Faun. He knows you’re too young now but there’s nothing wrong with tempting him a bit with what’s to come.’

Faun giggled.

‘It was such fun! And I reminded him that I’m a Hallchild.’

‘Good – he’d like that. He wants quality and you’re the best at Stonewylde – Magus’ beautiful, perfect daughter. ‘Tis a pity more people don’t remember you’re a Hallchild and so special, like your father.’

Rowan sighed and a dreamy look came into her eyes.

‘Was he really wonderful?’ asked Faun wistfully.

Rowan shook her head, glossy brown hair rippling over her shoulders and shadowing her face.

‘I can’t describe him to you, Faun – he was more than wonderful. I
wish
you could’ve known him.’

‘Why did he have to die? It’s not fair – he’d have loved me, I know it.’

‘He’d have adored you and you’d have been his special girl – his only daughter. You’re right, it’s not fair! And we know who’s to blame.’

‘Yul! I hate him so much, Mother. I’m his half-sister but he never takes any notice of me. I enjoyed it today when that ugly little sister of his made him look stupid. He looked such a fool when she started going on about the darkness coming and vipers and things. He couldn’t get her out of the Barn fast enough, could he?’

‘It were perfect! And Old Violet spoke the truth – things were run properly when Magus was here. We need to get back to how things were and after what’s happened today, things’ll start to change I’m sure. We’ll be ready, you and I, ready for whatever comes and whatever the future brings. Now you must go to sleep, my beautiful girl. I want you to sleep in tomorrow and Granny will bring you breakfast in bed.’

Faun smiled and closed her eyes contentedly as her mother stroked her forehead soothingly, just how she liked it. What a successful day it had been.

Leveret woke gradually and opened her eyes in the darkness. She couldn’t think where she was or what day it was. Imbolc? The ceremony up in the Stone Circle would be starting soon … but then the memories started to flood in and she closed her eyes in despair. No, no, she’d done that. She’d sat with Sylvie in the carriage going back to the Village. She remembered the breathing walls and Sylvie asking her about the strange man in the Circle. She vaguely remembered the archery display and the rainbow-trailing arrows. After that there was little more other than violently-coloured images and strange, illogical incidents. The whole day was a snaking nightmare of disjointed, jumbled up events.

There’d been a long table that stretched away into eternity and someone by her side, someone she felt good with but couldn’t talk to because there was a glass cage around her. Three black birds had pecked up crumbs and a great white cloud of snowdrops had swirled around her in a snow-storm as she sat in the glass coffin, dead but not dead. So many things had confused her. But then her raven had flown in through the purple skies and bright blue clouds and had sat at her feet. It had spoken wisely of the darkness and the vipers, the shadows and the danger.

Then – she cringed at the thought of it – Yul had smashed the glass coffin and hauled her away, the darkness that hovered around him trying to stain his soul. She remembered a ring of snowdrops with the silver crescent moon rolling across the floor like a wheel and coming to lie at the feet of a man who stood among the crowd of gaping onlookers. She’d seen him clearly as she hung over Yul’s shoulder. It was the same man she’d seen in the Stone Circle at dawn, and once again he’d made that little bow of greeting. He wore the same lazy smile and his eyes danced with mirth.

Leveret lay in her bed and tried to piece it all together. What on earth had happened? She vaguely remembered the jolting journey home down the lane, Yul’s shoulder driving into her sore stomach and him kicking the door open as the stream of invective poured from his mouth like a spilled jar of dark honey. He’d almost thrown her on her bed, shouting at her and berating her, and then he’d started waving mushrooms about and had shouted even louder right in her face. She’d been terrified of his venom and had closed her eyes. But he’d yanked her upright on the bed and shaken her violently, more angry than she’d ever seen him before. She didn’t remember anything after that; great black clouds had rolled in and obscured everything.

Alone in the darkness Leveret began to cry. She sobbed and sobbed until her throat hurt, her eyes stung and there were no more tears to shed. What had gone wrong? Gradually, for her mind was still not functioning normally and lucidity came only in short bursts, she worked out the sequence of events and realised what must’ve happened. It could only be the cakes … it had to have been Sweyn last night when he went out to the privy – there was no other explanation. She knew nothing of the potion they’d forced down her throat under the elm tree. She only knew that Imbolc had been a complete disaster. She’d failed as the Bright Maiden and let her mother down, along with her sister, Kestrel, Celandine, Clip, Magpie, Mother Heggy’s spirit, the folk of Stonewylde – everyone. They must all be so disappointed in her, so sad that she’d failed them once again, betrayed their love and their pride in her. And as for Yul – he’d really punish her now. Her life would be a misery if he could make it so.