Shaman of Stonewylde (10 page)

‘
What
?’ she cried, and Clip laughed as the young hare left its nest in the alcove and loped over to her inquisitively.

‘Don’t worry, it’s Leveret’s hare,’ he said. ‘She’s hand-reared the creature, and very successfully too.’

Sylvie stared at the little hare in amazement. It was beautiful, with rich golden fur dusted with darker tips and long ears that swivelled as it listened to the different voice. Its eyes were a dark gold and its nose constantly twitched, sniffing Sylvie’s foot and then her hand as she tentatively stroked it. It seemed completely unfazed by her, and then stood up on its hind paws and placed its front ones on her leg. With a push it jumped off the floor and onto her lap, and Sylvie laughed with delight. The creature settled comfortably on her lap and laid back its ears, enjoying the touch of her gentle hand.

‘It’s adorable!’ she breathed. ‘I didn’t know Leveret had a pet hare. What’s it called?’

‘It’s a she, and Leveret won’t name her, but simply calls her Hare. We found her, strangely enough, on Eostre’s day. She’d been quite badly injured – see her hind paw? We think she was
probably
only a couple of days old when we found her. To be honest, I really didn’t think she’d survive. But she’s doing very well – Leveret’s been amazing with her – and I think we now have a friend for life. Certainly she couldn’t be released into the wild. She’s imprinted on us and besides which, she limps quite badly and would never escape her predators.’

‘She’s so soft!’ said Sylvie in wonder. ‘Oh Clip, please can I bring the girls to see her? They’d absolutely love her.’

‘Of course, and it would do Leveret good to see them too. Bring them soon. How are they settling into Village life? And how are you?’

Sylvie nodded, trying to smile.

‘Tell me, Sylvie. What is it?’

Clip’s gentleness was her undoing and to her chagrin, Sylvie burst into tears. He put down his tea and moved to sit next to her, holding her close and letting her cry. Eventually she’d shed enough tears and blew her nose in a handkerchief. The leveret still sat in her lap, its eyes closed.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t intending to do that.’

Clip patted her hand.

‘So tell me, then.’

Sylvie tried to explain her feelings; her disappointment and sadness at the way her marriage was deteriorating. She missed Yul dreadfully and longed for things to be right between them. But the man who thundered around the Hall bullying people and rode down to the Village in a foul mood to find fault with everything – that wasn’t her Yul. He’d become a different man, not one she knew or liked, and she didn’t know how to talk to him any more. Clip sighed – he was hardly the person to give advice on marital relations and didn’t know what to say to help her.

‘Sorry – I know you have a million better things to do than listen to my tales of woe,’ she said, with an attempt at a smile.

‘I have nothing more important to do than be here to listen to my beloved daughter,’ he replied gently. ‘I just wish I could give you some good advice and make it all better. Sadly I can’t.’

‘I know. But rather no advice than bad advice,’ she said. ‘It’s just good to talk to someone non-judgemental. Poor Maizie does her best and she’s so kind to me, but you know what she’s like about Yul. She can’t see anything wrong with him at all, and try as she might to be impartial, she’s always so defensive about his behaviour.’

‘Is she happy for you to be staying with her?’

‘Oh yes, she loves it. She’d be so lonely otherwise, with Leveret up here. And she’s a wonderful grandmother – the girls really adore her. She’s fine with me but she firmly believes that a woman’s place is by her husband’s side. She can’t understand why Yul and I don’t just patch up our differences and get on with it.’

‘Maizie only sees what she wants to see,’ said Clip, and Sylvie nodded.

‘Can you see a change in Yul?’ she asked. ‘It’s not just me imagining it, is it?’

‘No, there’s something amiss,’ he agreed. ‘He hasn’t been right for a while now. I’m sorry, I’ve been so caught up in preparing myself for leaving this year and teaching Leveret – I’ve neglected you in the process. And Sylvie, there are things I must tell you about Stonewylde.’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘I’ve been corresponding with my lawyer and soon I must go Outside to sign the papers. It’s about handing over to you when I leave.’

She looked at him warily, scared of the responsibility but not wanting Yul to take over as he planned to do.

‘It’s complicated and I’ll explain it fully to you when I understand it properly myself. But my lawyer and I – after much debate, we’ve decided to change things. I knew you’d be happy not to have quite so much weight on your shoulders, so rather than simply sign the whole estate over to you, I’m intending to create a type of Trust and register the place as a charity. There’ll be a Board of Trustees, of which you’ll be chairperson, but it means that Stonewylde won’t actually belong to you – or to
any
one person. I feel this is the right way forward, if you’re agreeable.’

Sylvie’s throat had constricted at his words and she could barely speak. She felt as if suddenly a huge dark cloud had lifted and a ray of sunshine had penetrated the gloom of her life. She’d never have imagined that learning she was not to inherit Stonewylde would have such an effect on her.

‘Sylvie? What do you think? Of course if you’re not happy about it, I—’

She turned and in a completely uncharacteristic gesture, planted a kiss on his thin cheek.

‘Thank you!’ she cried. ‘Thank you, darling Clip!’

‘That’s a relief!’ he smiled. ‘I had thought it would meet with your approval but you worried me there for a minute. I don’t intend to say a word to Yul until it’s a
fait accompli
. I know he wants ownership, through you, and I’m really not up to a battle with him.’

‘Exactly!’ she agreed. ‘That’s why I’m living in the Village. I’m not up to doing battle with Yul any longer either.’

Marigold looked fondly at the pair of bent heads at her table – one gold and one dark. Magpie’s finger was jumping along the page, following the words as Leveret slowly read the text to him. When they got to the end, she then made him go back and tested him on what she’d read.

‘Magpie, which word says “
nest”?
N-e-s-t.’

He looked carefully and pointed.

‘That’s right! And which word says “
robin”?
R-o-b-i-n.’

Again he pointed, and again he was right.

‘So can you write the word “
nest
” for me? N-e-s-t. Don’t look at the book, do it from your head. Remember how the word looked, and think of the sounds of the letters. Write them down here for me, Maggie. Two more words and then we’ll stop.’

Marigold shook her head in amazement. The little maid was a natural teacher, so patient and so very good at keeping Magpie on task, and she always sensed when he’d had enough. Marigold
herself
, along with most people on the estate, had only learned to read and write comparatively recently and she wasn’t as fluent as the youngsters who’d been doing it all their lives.

She watched Leveret with her boy – for she now thought of Magpie as her grandson – and her heart swelled with pride. All around the cluttered cottage were labels. Leveret had made labels for almost every object so that Magpie was surrounded with words to help him make sense of the world around him. His early years had been so very deprived that not only was he unable to speak, but he lacked a lot of basic vocabulary as well and didn’t have the means to ask. Discovering this had been a breakthrough in understanding Magpie’s problem. Leveret was now giving everything in his world a name and writing each word down so he learned to read it and spell it at the same time. Marigold found it helped her spelling too, and she and Cherry agreed that at this rate, their Magpie might well learn to read and write properly.

Leveret started packing away the books and pencils; she wanted to get back to the tower to see Clip and Hare. She must pop out at some point before dark and gather more cowslip flowers whilst they were still young and fresh, and the moon was on the wax. She was making an ointment for treating sunburn and skin blemishes, which would come in useful if the weather continued so warm. She needed to build up a supply of useful remedies so that folk would start to come to her. There was also some schoolwork to be finished and handed in, and she had exams coming up in June too, so needed to revise for those. Miranda had agreed to her taking many subjects a year early, which was great as far as Leveret was concerned as it got them out of the way. She didn’t give a fig for her results as she had no intention of ever using them in the Outside World, and what use were silly bits of paper here? But she needed to do reasonably well or else Miranda may insist she return to school full time.

Leveret stepped out onto the cobbled area outside the row of terraced cottages where Magpie lived. Tucked into the shadow
of
the Hall, they overlooked the great courtyard outside the kitchen that led into the Kitchen Gardens where Magpie worked most days. These were the homes of people who, in the old days, had been senior members of staff at the Hall. Two doors down from Marigold and Cherry’s cottage was Martin’s home, and as she walked past it on her way back to the tower, Leveret glanced up to see Martin standing in the window of his parlour.

She nodded politely to him but then did a double take. She was horrified to see his thin, pale face, so very like Clip’s, had twisted into a grimace of hatred. Her heart jumped as she felt the force of his loathing, an almost tangible entity that hovered in the air around his contorted face. She stopped dead, caught in the moment, and felt the world prickling and fizzing around her as she slipped into that other place.

There was the man, tall and silver haired, not unattractive but rather dissolute, with a weak mouth and chin. He rode a horse that clattered on the cobbles and he surveyed the two young women carrying his babies in their swollen bellies. One girl was tiny, with wild silver hair and sharp teeth which she bared at him, almost growling in feral hatred. He looked at her sadly and Leveret felt his pain and longing for her, and also his sharp animal lust. The other young woman pushed forward and, grabbing the bridle, looked up at him as he sat there astride the horse, a fine figure of a man in his prime. She was dirty and unkempt with dark, greasy hair and a filthy shawl around her shoulders. She leered at him and rubbed her great belly in an almost obscene gesture. He turned away, feeling disgust both for her and with himself. But he also felt a lure, and against his will he throbbed in remembrance as she taunted him
.

Leveret swallowed and shook her head, trying to clear it of the strange vision. She stared at Martin, still in the window, and understood he was the second baby, born of that dirty woman who’d imagined her son destined for great things. The tiny silver haired one must be Raven, already familiar to Leveret. Poor Clip, to have been born of such hatred. And poor Martin too, for the dirty woman had evil in her heart. Leveret knew she’d
seen
Old Violet as a youngster and Basil, the lord of Stonewylde, who’d sown his seed so irresponsibly.

Leveret knew the family history for her mother had spoken of it often enough. Basil had met with a sudden end, wasting away rapidly, and everyone in the community suspected foul play. It was common speculation that Elm, Basil’s brother, had engaged Violet’s services in despatching his rival, and all because he too wanted the tiny Raven and her moongaziness. Why had Violet turned against Basil? Had he rejected her for Raven? He’d obviously favoured Raven’s baby over hers, bringing little Clip to live in the Hall as his son and heir, whilst presumably Violet’s baby Martin was raised in the filthy cottage on the edge of the Village.

She continued on her way, anxious to be out of Martin’s sight, but then heard a door open behind her. She hoped it wasn’t him, for the expression on his face had been frightening. Why did he hate her so much?

‘Hey, Leveret! Wait a moment!’

It was Swift, hurrying out of his father’s front door and quickly catching her up. Her heart sank, but he smiled charmingly and chattered away as if they were the best of friends.

‘Are you going back to the tower? I might join you and pay my Uncle Clip a visit. How’s it all going? I hear you’ve been let off school – why’s that?’

Leveret shrugged; she really didn’t want to say too much to Swift in case he was in league with Jay and her brothers, and given the blind hatred she’d just seen on his father’s face, Swift mustn’t be trusted at all.

‘I’m still doing my schoolwork, but Clip’s tutoring me now. And I’m taking some exams too, when you take yours.’

‘Really? Taking them a year early? You must be even cleverer than I’d heard.’

Leveret scowled at this clumsy flattery.

‘I don’t think Clip will want a visit at this time of evening,’ she said. ‘We have lots of work to do tonight.’

‘I won’t stay long. And how’s our Magpie? I assume you’ve
just
been visiting him? Father said you’re in that cottage most days.’

‘That’s right. He’s my friend.’

‘And he’s my cousin. Or second cousin or something. My father is cousin to his mother Starling. Though between you and me, that’s a connection he tries to ignore. Have you seen her lately? What a disgusting woman!’

Leveret ignored his chumminess and entered the Hall through the massive kitchen door. Swift followed close behind, happy to see that he was almost a head taller than her now.

‘Are you walking with anyone, Leveret?’ he asked innocently, well aware of the answer.

She stopped and turned on him, her scornful gaze raking his face. He flicked his straight, silver fringe in a gesture he knew girls found attractive, and smiled disarmingly.

‘No, I’m not!’ she said. ‘And I don’t intend to either.’

‘That’s a shame,’ he said. ‘You looked so good at the Outsiders’ Dance at Yule, and at Imbolc when you were Bright Maiden.’

She glared at him and then continued impatiently across the flagstones of the kitchen. The huge table which ran down the centre of the room was empty, ready for the preparation of breakfast the following day. All the youngsters on kitchen work detail had finished their tasks and returned either to the communal sitting room or their dormitories. The copper pans on the wall gleamed as Leveret made for the door.