Shaman of Stonewylde (15 page)

‘I am!’ came the fourteen replies.

The attendants came forward and, whilst the drums played a lively beat, the complicated business of the handfastings began. The specially woven cords had been plaited ceremoniously by the couples the day before, the resulting braided piece being knotted at either end, one knot by each family. And now the attendants proceeded to fasten their couple together at the wrist – the man’s right hand and the woman’s left, in a figure of eight binding which represented eternity. Finally each pair was bound fast, and Clip moved down the line to tie the loose ends into knots.

‘May the Goddess keep your marriage strong, like these cords that bind you in wedlock,’ he murmured to each couple as he tied their knot. ‘May love warm your hearts here in this world and continue to the Otherworld.’

‘These ties of hemp will not be broken until the Hare Moon has set!’ declared Sylvie. ‘And may the ties that bind your hearts and souls never be broken.’

Next was the exchanging of rings. These were placed on each other’s ring finger on the bound hand, as a permanent reminder of the cord that now circled their wrists. Then the couple faced each other again to make their private vows, whispered only to each other. Simplicity was the key. Dawn’s eyes sparkled with tears when David began to whisper the words of John Donne, knowing how she loved the poet.

‘
I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I didst till we lov’d?
’

When he’d finished the poem she swallowed, and looking deep into his kind, loving eyes, she softly spoke the words she’d written especially for him.

‘
If you feel a little strange when walking high in the hills
,

And sense a presence in the woods but never turn around
,

If your spirit soars with the larks on a bright summer’s day
,

And you thrill with quicksilver when Lady Moon walks the night
,

If your soul cries out at the beauty of our world
,

And you feel a reverence so deep and so old
,

Then take my hand, take my heart, take my love

And stay with me forever in Stonewylde
.’

The final part of the ceremony could now begin, and from the dais the attendants brought down the seven brooms. There was an excited buzz from the crowd; the brooms had been made by each couple together, a piece of wood chosen, seasoned and finished for the broomstick, and then either carved, painted or scorched in whatever pattern they chose. Together they’d gathered their choice of twigs and made the brush part, tying it with willow and reed. The brooms had stood in the Barn overnight and everyone had had the chance to tie a small ribbon of linen to the handle, with a message or symbol written on it, or simply a wish made over it. The brooms now fluttered with colourful ribbons and were lovely to behold. The handles were all different; while some of the other couples had chosen oak or holly, Dawn and David had chosen the traditional, magical ash. They’d also decided on the customary birch twigs for the brush as they were desperately hoping to have children soon.

‘Jumping your own broomstick is the final symbolic act in our ceremony this afternoon,’ said Clip. ‘As you leap over the broom, you leave behind your old lives and hearths, and cross the threshold into your new wedded lives together.’

The brightly decorated brooms were held at each end by the two attendants, and the couples were called. The crowd cheered
and
rang their hearth bells frantically. Bound at the wrists, one by one the couples took a run and leapt over their broom.

Rainbow had bent down opposite David’s brother as they both held the broomstick for their couple. She gave him a wicked grin, knowing her silk dress was gaping and revealing her cleavage.

‘How high shall we hold it then?’ she laughed, a mischievous glint in her eye.

‘Only low, I was told,’ he replied. ‘We don’t want them tripping over.’

David and Dawn started to make their run, she desperately holding up her skirts and hoping her headdress wouldn’t fall off. At the last moment Rainbow tried to raise the broom higher but it was David jumping on her side and he tucked his feet up and managed to clear it. Flushed, he spun round to see Rainbow laughing at his brother.

‘Oh, come on!’ she cried. ‘It’s only a bit of fun! You’re all so damn serious.’

Once all the couples had jumped, Clip raised his staff again.

‘You are now officially married! We wish you joy in your new lives together, and many years of love and happiness.’

‘May the fecundity of the Hare Moon bless your wedding union tonight, and the Bright Lady dust you with her magic. Bright blessings!’ cried Sylvie.

‘Bright blessings!’ echoed everyone in the circle.

The musicians struck up a lively tune and the seven couples, joined at the wrists and carrying their broomsticks before them, processed all the way around the circle and then out through a gap that opened towards the Great Barn and the feast that awaited them all. By common consensus, Dawn and David led the way, and then the seven pairs of attendants fell into step too, followed by the rest of the community. Gradually everyone trooped out of the circle and into the Barn, taking their seats at the rows and rows of trestle tables. The tables were laden with food and drink, and David’s family and friends were quite overwhelmed by the hospitality.

On the large table at the head of the Barn sat the seven couples, and there was great hilarity as they attempted to eat and drink with their hands tied together. As was the custom, each couple shared a cup and ate from the same plate, helping each other and even using cutlery together. Dawn was brimming with happiness, her rather plain face alight with joy. David felt a strange bubbling excitement deep inside and still couldn’t believe that he was married – not only to the woman of his dreams, but also to Stonewylde. He looked across at his family and hoped they’d all visit him, as the Council of Elders had promised they could. He noticed his grandmother looking rather sour, which surprised him as she was the one who’d brought his father up in the pagan tradition and always insisted on the old ways being followed to the letter. The rest of his group seemed to be having a wonderful time, although his brother had left Rainbow and the other attendants to return to their table and sit with them all.

Rainbow herself wasn’t joining in the feast. She now leant against a wall with a glass of wine in her hand, watching everything. She’d left her camera in her room at the Council’s request, though it irritated her that they’d imposed such a petty restriction. Taking photos was hardly a crime, after all. She glanced at the table of brides and grooms where everyone seemed to be having a splendid time, and then her gaze roamed to David’s family party. She’d dismissed his brother as being unworthy of any effort; in fact, the whole bunch was pretty boring.

She watched Yul for a while, sitting next to his wife and knocking back the cider like a youngster. His face had that dark, closed expression that she remembered from the old days – say the wrong thing and he’d bite your head off. Yul was clearly a troubled man, despite having got everything he’d ever wanted. Rainbow still found it difficult to accept that Yul had once been a mere Village boy, a complete yokel unable to read or write, with no education or status whatsoever – yet here he was now, in effect the lord and master of Stonewylde. It just went to show what could be achieved with a little perseverance and
determination
. Although right now, he didn’t seem very happy with his lot.

Rainbow stared at Sylvie, seated by his side. She really didn’t look good. The ethereal beauty and magical promise she’d possessed as a girl, that moongazy quality of perfect alabaster skin, silver silken hair and dreamy grey eyes, now looked pinched and washed out. She was far too thin and it wasn’t attractive at all, especially for a woman approaching her thirties. Everything about Sylvie was sharp and edgy. She looked up suddenly and caught Rainbow’s gaze. Instead of looking away, Rainbow raised her glass in a silent salute, which Sylvie pointedly ignored.

Sylvie was ignoring Yul too, and instead spoke to Clip on her other side. Clip was so like her, right down to the thinness and pallor. His special handfasting robes hung off his angular shoulders and his cheeks were gaunt. He was very animated, discussing something of great import with his daughter. On his other side sat Leveret, small and dark, silently sipping from her glass, watching everyone. Something about her made Rainbow feel a little uncomfortable, although she was itching to sketch her and capture that strange, otherworldly aura. What Dawn had told her about the girl was intriguing and she was certainly one to watch.

Rainbow followed Leveret’s gaze and saw that it was now fixed on Magpie, sitting across the Barn near the door to the kitchens. Rainbow brightened at the thought of Magpie – there was something promising! His golden hair glinted in the light and his unusual, rather handsome face was devoid of expression. He ate slowly and carefully, only his extraordinary eyes showing any liveliness. She wanted to paint him too, but more than that, she wanted to get inside his head. Rainbow knew David was right; Magpie had a really special talent. She’d watched the boy when he hadn’t realised she’d been there, and the way he worked was incredible. He rarely looked up from the paper or canvas; it was as if he’d taken a mental snapshot of his subject earlier and referred to that. He worked fast and what he created had fluidity, movement and perfect rhythm.

Rainbow was fascinated by him and wished he could talk. She’d love to discuss his way of working and discover if there was something she could learn from it. She felt he was a raw and untrained genius and she wanted to be part of his success. David had become increasingly cagey about Magpie, almost suspicious of her interest, which made Rainbow all the more determined to get involved. She’d briefly considered a liaison with him – and hadn’t entirely ruled it out as an option – but he was very young and more to the point, as gormless as an egg. So she’d bide her time and try to fathom out just what made Magpie tick. And, in the meantime, she was very keen to paint him. There was something classical about his face and posture that she longed to capture.

‘Blessings, Rainbow!’

Rainbow swung round to stare into the dark eyes of Faun. The girl was tall, almost the same height despite her youth, and obviously in her best party frock. Rainbow noted the excessive ringlets in her hair and the lip-gloss – lip-gloss at Stonewylde? She was shocked, but after a moment’s thought realised it might only be some kind of natural product; beeswax, perhaps? Faun was preening and pouting which made Rainbow smile. She’d already been targeted by the girl’s mother, Rowan, whom Rainbow recalled as the beautiful May Queen all those years ago. Faun shared some of her qualities, not least her fine, creamy complexion and statuesque posture, but her colouring was pure Magus. As Rainbow looked into the velvety dark brown eyes, she shivered.

‘Mother wondered if you’d like to sit on our table over there? If you’re all alone?’

‘No, not really, thanks. I’m not hungry and I’m just enjoying people-watching.’

The girl looked crestfallen and returned to her table. Then Rainbow noticed a rather gorgeous young man further up, and wondered how she’d missed him up until now. He had light brown hair, slightly curly, and lovely blue eyes. His face was clean-cut and very masculine, and his physique an absolute joy.
Rainbow’s
stance changed imperceptibly, her body insinuating itself into a more provocative pose as she leant against the wall. She knew the turquoise silk glimmered around her curves, and she shook out her mane of hair so it hung more artfully. Soon enough her intense stare worked its magic and the young man looked up from the table and straight into her eyes. She raised her glass to him and gave a small, enigmatic smile. Yes, he’d do very nicely indeed, whoever he was.

8

‘W
hy is she sitting up there next to Clip, with Yul and Sylvie and everyone?’ demanded Rosie of her mother as they replenished dishes in the kitchen. Both had bright cheeks and looked so alike; hot, bothered and busy. Maizie shook her head, deftly transferring tiny beef tartlets to one larger dish.

‘She lives with him, don’t she? Who else would she sit with?’ replied Maizie briskly. ‘Truth be told, Rosie, I don’t really care just so long as she’s being properly looked after and not getting into any mischief.’

‘Aye, but Clip! Why
him
? He’s not even our kin – who’s he to be taking such an interest in our Leveret? Besides, nothing ever were done about that Imbolc business. She let us down, Mother, and yet she never got punished or—’

‘Rosie, you sound just like your brothers! Only today Sweyn were saying the self same thing.’

‘Well, that’s because you’re our mother and we don’t like to see you made a goose of by that little madam! You brung us up to believe in just punishment where ’tis due – and that’s here!’

Rosie’s dark curls bobbed indignantly as she lined up a row of little jugs to be filled with cream. Maizie stopped a moment and laid her hand on her eldest daughter’s arm.

‘You’re a good girl, Rosie, and I’m proud of you. Always have been – you never once let me down. Our Leveret’s a different jar o’ jam altogether.’

‘Aye well, I think you should have a word with her today. ’Tis the perfect opportunity. She needs to—’

‘No, I don’t want to get meself upset about it all today. D’you know, she were conceived at the Hare Moon? ’Tis why I named her Leveret.’

‘For Goddess’ sake, Mother! You’re still soft on her! She always does this – wraps you round her finger and gets away with it! You’ve been soppy over Leveret from the day she were born, and because of that she’s turned out a bad ‘un. Look what she did at Imbolc, when she were Bright Maiden!’

‘All that happened at Imbolc . . . I don’t know, I don’t think ’twere entirely the maid’s fault. No—’ she raised a hand to silence Rosie’s protests, ‘I know what you, Sweyn and Gefrin, and Yul hisself all think. But I can’t in my heart believe that Leveret would’ve deliberately messed it all up like that. There were something afoot that day, but I don’t know what, and to be honest, I’ve had my fill o’ the whole business. All I want to do is put it behind me. Leveret’s a difficult child and she always were a challenge, from a suckling babe-in-arms. In fact, right back to her conception, now I think on it. So I just want to leave be. She’s happy at the Hall and off my hands, so please – no more about it, Rosie.’