Shadows at Stonewylde (8 page)

A few minutes later she was back to normal and looking embarrassed.

‘Do you do this often, go into a trance?’ Clip asked as they made their way together down the hill. She shrugged.

‘I used to pass out quite a lot, I think, although I could never remember it. Mother called it my blanknesses and Hazel calls it absences, but I thought it was getting better. Please don’t tell Mother or she’ll make a fuss and keep me cooped up even more.’

He nodded – she hadn’t come to any harm, after all.

‘You never did show me what you’d collected,’ he said.

She grimaced, still reluctant, but passed her bag to him.

‘Fly Agaric!’ he exclaimed, looking inside the bag at the large, brilliant red toadstool with its white spots. ‘What a beauty! But you know that’s not allowed, Leveret. What are you going to do with it?’

She looked up at him solemnly and he was struck by the strange beauty of her green eyes framed with dark, glossy curls.

‘You know what I’m going to do with it – why does anyone gather such a thing? It’s for Samhain. But please, please don’t tell on me. I’d get into such trouble and I do know what I’m doing, I promise. Please?”

He smiled down at her, liking her all of a sudden. She was very different and it must be hard for her living in her brother’s shadow. Yet she had a quiet confidence that implied she did indeed know what she was doing, so he nodded.

‘Alright, I won’t say a word. But be very careful, Leveret – we both know how powerful Fly can be. You know how to prepare it? Only take a very tiny amount. And one more thing – in return for my silence.’

‘Yes?’ she asked, looking up into his kindly face.

‘Show me where you found it. It’s the best specimen I’ve seen this year.’

‘R
emember I’m going out this evening, Leveret,’ said Maizie as she wiped down the scrubbed table in the kitchen to remove all traces of their meal. ‘We’re meeting in the Barn to sort out the food for Samhain. It’ll be a really good feast this year with the harvest we’ve had. I want you to carry on with the weaving tonight while I’m gone.’

‘But Mother, you know how useless I am at weaving,’ groaned Leveret. She’d planned a pleasant evening in the scullery decanting elderberry wine ready to smuggle some up to Mother Heggy’s cottage at a later date. She intended to add it to another tincture she was preparing.

‘’Tis about time you knuckled down to learning these sorts o’ things,’ said Maizie firmly, wringing out the piece of cloth with a grip of steel. ‘You’re always saying that you want to stay at Stonewylde when you’re an adult, after you’ve finished your education, of course. So you’ll need to make cloth for your family like every woman does.’

‘But I’ll have different skills, Mother, which I can trade for cloth that other women have made. Like Hazel – she doesn’t weave.’

Maizie’s eyes gleamed.

‘Like Hazel? Are you saying that you want to be a doctor, Leveret?’

She stopped fussing over the kitchen surfaces and grasped her daughter by the shoulders, peering into her eyes. Leveret tried to look away, uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

‘No, I meant …’

‘Because Leveret, I’ve said nothing until now, but ‘tis my dearest, dearest wish that you become a doctor like Hazel. Another proper doctor for Stonewylde.’

Leveret started to protest and tried to move away but Maizie gripped her harder and carried on relentlessly.

‘I’ve seen you messing about with potions and herbs, don’t think I haven’t noticed. I know you’ve a natural gift for healing. Remember when little Snowdrop had those awful stomach cramps and it was you that cured her? And when the chickens got that mange? And all the wild creatures you’ve healed? Oh Leveret, you’re a natural born doctor! I’ve talked to Yul about it and we thought—’

‘No, Mother!’ said Leveret firmly, pulling away. ‘I don’t want to be a doctor. I know what it means, all the years at university and in hospitals. I’ve told you: I’m not leaving Stonewylde. This is where I belong and where I want to be, not in some horrible place in the Outside World.’

‘But Leveret, ‘tis only a few years of learning and you’d be back in the holidays like all the others, helping with the harvest and suchlike. And it’d be worth it! Just think—’

‘No! I don’t want to go Outside at all.’

‘But you have to leave after your exams to go on to college for your higher exams. And if—’

‘No, Mother! You don’t understand – I’m not leaving at all. Not ever. I’ll do my exams here because you said I had to, though I’d rather have done the practical course like my brothers and Rosie. I only agreed to the exams because you said it’d make you proud, but I’m not doing any more after my last year at school here. I know exactly what I want to do and it’s not studying in the Outside World.’

Maizie stared at her youngest child in dismay, two bright spots of anger burning on her plump cheeks.

‘Oh, so you do know what you want to be, then? And what is that, Leveret? A farm labourer like Gefrin? Or a tanner like Sweyn? Or in the orchards with Geoffrey? Maybe thatching like Gregory? Or in the dairy with your sister?’

‘No, I—’

‘You’re the only one with a bright star inside you, Leveret! The only one who could go on to university and study and—’

‘Except for Yul.’

‘Well yes. Yul did it and you could be like him too! You’re a very clever girl – don’t throw it all away.’

‘I won’t throw it all away. I want to be a healer, a herbalist, and—’

‘Then be a proper doctor!’

‘NO!! I won’t go away and study to be a doctor! I want to be a Wise Woman, Mother, like there used to be at Stonewylde.’

‘
A Wise Woman?
’ Maizie’s voice cracked in disbelief. ‘You mean like that nasty old biddy Violet? And her crazed sister Vetchling? Is that what you mean?’

‘No! I mean like old Mother Heggy.’

There was a silence, then Maizie let out a harsh laugh and banged the iron skillet she was drying onto the table. She shook her head, the spots on her cheeks grown now to large flushes.

‘What would you know about that old crone? ‘Twas because of
her
and her mad prophecies that your poor brother suffered all those years. ‘Twas because of
her
that Magus turned against me and became such a wicked man. If she’d only kept her wild rantings to herself! She were raving mad and she’s a lot to answer for!’

‘But I thought you all honoured her? Yul and Sylvie honoured her and I heard she was gifted and magical.’

‘Oh yes she was, and Yul and Sylvie did honour her right enough because ‘twas she as brought ’em together. But Old Heggy caused so much misery too, with her crazy caperings up at the Stone Circle when your brother were born, summoning the Dark Angel, blighting the boy’s childhood. And you want to be like her? Hah! If you want to end up a filthy old hag on a hill with no friends nor family, my girl, then good luck to you!’

Leveret looked sadly at her mother, who’d worked herself up into a spitting rage. She knew just how upset Maizie was but there was nothing she could do.

‘I’m really sorry, Mother. I don’t want to disappoint you, but it’s better you know now, isn’t it?’

‘Oh don’t you worry about how I feel!’ snapped Maizie, snatching her cloak from the peg. ‘Next year you’ll be living up at the Hall along with all the other fifteen-year-olds. Then I can wash my hands o’ the lot of you. Nearly twenty-nine years I’ve spent raising children and I’ll be glad to be done with it. ‘Tis a thankless task, I can tell you. You go ahead, Leveret, and become a “Wise Woman”. But don’t expect any customers. Folk at Stonewylde want a proper doctor nowadays, not some old biddy with dandelion tea and love potions, and Yul won’t let you do it for long. Everyone here has to earn their living and he’ll find you something fitting, I’m sure. Maybe he’ll let you grow vegetables up at the Hall. And in the meantime, my girl, I want this cloth woven tonight. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Mother.’

‘Sweyn should be here any minute and—’

‘No! Oh Mother, please don’t get him round! You know I’m behaving myself and I promise I’ll stay in and do the weaving.
Please!
’

But Maizie smiled tightly.

‘You let me down once too often and now I don’t trust you, Leveret. Sweyn’s coming to keep an eye on you and from now on him or Gefrin’ll make sure you behave yourself. I’m very glad Sylvie thought of it.’

‘Please, Mother, I
beg you
! You don’t know what he’s like when he gets me alone.’

‘You’re wasting your breath, Leveret, and talking rubbish too. I told you all this before, many a time – I won’t listen to your lies about your brothers. Sweyn’s a fine young man and I’m proud o’ him. That sounds like him now.’

The front door crashed open and Sweyn barged in. It was as if Alwyn had been reincarnated for his youngest son was the image of him, right down to the gingery bristles on his sausage fingers and the brutish under-bite of his pugnacious lower jaw. He even wore an enormous brown leather coat as his father had done, and he looked older than sixteen. The stink of the tannery came with him into the cottage.

‘Sweyn! Just in time!’

Maizie went over to peck his ruddy cheek and he hugged her gruffly.

‘Alright, Mother?’

‘I am now. I’ve left you cake and some nice cheese in the pantry, and there’s cider too if you fancy it. Take what you want, son.’

‘I will, Mother – you know how I miss my home comforts. Gefrin said he might come by too.’

‘Good. Thank you, Sweyn – I’m grateful for this. She shouldn’t need looking after at her age but there you are – she’s let me down once again.’

‘Has she upset you tonight? You’re looking like a rosy apple.’

Maizie bobbed her head, curls shaking, and patted his arm as he hung up his coat.

‘I should be used to it by now. But never mind that – I don’t want to think about it. She’s been told to weave tonight so you make sure she does. No sloping off to her room in a sulk – she’s got work to do.

Sweyn smiled and nodded.

‘Don’t you worry, Mother, I’ll sort her out.’

As soon as Maizie had gone, Leveret sat on the stool before the loom and started to organise the shuttles. She kept her head down so her hair hung over her face, hoping Sweyn would be distracted by the thought of food and drink in the pantry. He was as greedy as their father had been – not that Leveret remembered him, for she’d only been a year old when he’d collapsed in his chair. But she’d heard about him from Rosie, Geoffrey and Gregory, who remembered Alwyn with fear and loathing. Yet even now Maizie rarely spoke out against him. He was their father, after all. Yul never, ever mentioned him.

Sweyn had sat down comfortably in the great armchair by the fire; the late October nights were getting chilly. He relaxed into the old, soft leather and surveyed his younger sister. Far from resenting his mother’s request, he was delighted. He’d moved up to the Hall last year along with the others in their final year at school, and had been missing his favourite pastime – tormenting Leveret. Over the years he and his older brother Gefrin had developed it into a fine art. Although neither of them was very bright, they were inventive in their torture and clever at avoiding detection.

Leveret had never known anything but their constant bullying, and if something were ever noticed, it was always put down to the rough and tumble of growing up in a large family. A small girl with older brothers, so Maizie had always said airily, should expect some teasing and Leveret was the youngest of seven. Since they’d left home she’d generally been able to avoid them and was no longer bruised by their casual violence or intimidated by their constant tormenting. But by asking them to keep an eye on her, Maizie had given them the perfect opportunity to resume their cruelty.

‘Go and get me the food she’s left,’ commanded Sweyn, watching Leveret fiddling with the loom. She decided not to protest and went into the pantry to fetch the cake and cheese. She was sure he’d already have eaten a good meal in the great Dining Hall tonight, but Sweyn could always find room for more. He took the plate from her without a word and began to eat. The moment she sat down he spoke again, through a mouthful of food.

‘Get me some cider too.’

She stood up once more and poured him a tankard of cider from the small barrel in the pantry. She hoped he wouldn’t drink too much because he never held his drink well. But he downed it in one long, noisy draught and demanded another. It was when she sat down again and was commanded once more to get up and stoke the fire that Leveret realised he didn’t plan to let her do any weaving at all.

The door opened and Gefrin stood at the threshold grinning. At seventeen he was a year older than Sweyn but seemed the younger of the two. He was lankier and more scrawnily built, although the two years spent farm labouring had developed his strength and stamina. He had an inane grin that rarely left his face and took his lead from Sweyn, who was marginally brighter than him. They were close as brothers, paired by their position in a large family and united in their enjoyment of teasing Leveret, whom they both deeply resented.

‘Alright? Mother gone already?’

‘Yeah. Get Gefrin a tankard too, Hare-brain.’