Shaman of Stonewylde (71 page)

Sylvie had snuggled more deeply into the crook of his arm, warm and safe, her hair spilling across his chest. Ioho had finished his early morning feed and was tucked back in his crib, and nobody else was yet awake. Yul had kissed her tenderly, his fingers stroking her milky skin, his face nuzzling her hair.

‘I could build us a beautiful cottage,’ he’d said softly, ‘and it would be yours to decide on, what you’d like, how you’d like it set up. The garden would be laid out exactly as we chose, with our own chickens and beehives, and even a pig if you wanted to be really traditional. And I’d make you a spinning wheel and a loom, and—’

Wriggling out of his embrace to reach his lips, she’d silenced him with a kiss. Then she’d pulled back a little so she could gaze at him, and she’d seen his love, his tenderness, his kindness, all burning so very brightly in those deep grey eyes. She’d bent to kiss him again, her lips tingling where they brushed the dark stubble on his jaw. His face was still hollowed, the cheekbones sharp, from when he’d been living in exile and loneliness after she’d sent him away. Her heart had jolted then at the thought of his absence. How had she ever not wanted him? All she longed for now was her beloved Yul constantly by her side. She resented every second he spent away from her, working on the estate.

‘That all sounds lovely,’ she’d said softly, ‘but it’d be an awful lot of work for you, wouldn’t it? Maybe for now we should just stay here and enjoy the time together. The girls missed you so much when we were living apart. Perhaps we could think about our own cottage next year, but enjoy this year first and stay with Maizie? I’m happy here and so are the children. Just so long as you don’t mind? I mean, the memories of your awful childhood?’

Yul had held her gaze and she’d felt herself consumed by the blaze she saw within him.

‘You’ve banished any unhappiness, any bad memories, forever,’ he whispered. ‘That was all in another life-time, it seems. I remember you visiting me here for the first time, after that Samhain when I almost died. Mother had made me up a bed in the parlour and you came in and held me tight . . . I remember thinking then how I wished you lived here with me.’

Sylvie smiled at this.

‘I remember that too!’ she said. ‘Leveret was a toddler and Maizie was a little embarrassed having me here, Hallfolk no less, but she was very welcoming. I recall thinking just how much I wanted to live here with you. Well . . . if you’re happy to stay, then let’s do that, and think about our own cottage another time. We’ve got so much catching up to do, and I don’t want you labouring from dawn to dusk when we could be spending that time together.’

With a gentle fingertip she traced a groove in his skin that ran down the side of his mouth, where his face creased when he smiled. He turned his head to kiss her finger and laughed.

‘What – are you discovering my wrinkles already?’

‘I love these laughter lines on you,’ she said. ‘I’ve noticed them starting round my eyes, but surely we’re too young for wrinkles?’

‘I’ll love all yours,’ he promised. ‘When you’re as shrivelled and dried up as last year’s apples, I shall still love you. Can you imagine us as a little old couple in our cottage, you with your knitting and me with my whittling, and all our grandchildren around us?’

‘I’ve only just given birth!’ she laughed. ‘Don’t wish grandchildren on me already!’

Yul had smiled and pulled her down again so their mouths met, and they’d kissed as the sun pushed further into the room and filled it with brightness and warmth. And now, sitting here in the rocking chair, Sylvie thought dreamily of Yul and wished he were here instead of poring over the records with Edward, looking at the yields and projected figures. She decided that this evening she’d make a start on weaving the new linen for the shirt she planned to make him. She was keen to show him her new skills and be a proper wife, in the old Stonewylde way. She thought of the cottage he’d offered and it was tempting, but living here with Maizie was comfortable and easy, and she was still learning how to be a goodwife.

Sylvie glanced down at Ioho, firmly attached to her and sucking strongly at her breast. She was so glad her milk was plentiful this time and that she was able to satisfy his hunger. He was such a good little boy, sleeping and feeding well. She was surprised to find that instead of being shut contentedly as he fed, his startling grey eyes with the darker rings around the pale irises were wide open and locked onto her face.

‘Are you looking at me, you darling boy?’ she said softly. ‘Have you been watching Mummy’s face as she day-dreams?’

His gaze was so intense, so knowing. She smiled down at him with adoration, a gentle finger nudging back the wisps of dark
hair
on his forehead, already curling like his father’s. His eyebrows were winged exactly like Yul’s – he was such a beautiful little boy. A tiny hand with perfect fingernails reached up and curled trustingly around her finger. Ioho gripped her tightly as if they’d never be parted.

‘What’s going to become of you, I wonder?’ she whispered. ‘You’re destined for great things, I’m sure. A Green Boy growing up surrounded by such magic and so much love. You’ve made my life complete, little Ioho, and your father’s too. We’re so very lucky you came to us.’

He continued to gaze up at her as she fed him her milk. Sylvie felt sure that he was communicating with her, telling her how much he loved her too, for his eyes never left hers. She sighed contentedly, thanking the Goddess yet again for such happiness. It was two days before the Black Moon, when their world would be shattered like a great mirror dropped on the cobblestones.

33

T
hey all climbed the hill heading towards the massive sentinel stone that stood at the very top, as it had done throughout the ages. They were almost the same party that had come at Hare Moon, except for Maizie, who was organising the women in the Barn making summer hats, and Miranda and Christopher, who were busy setting up his hive at Woodland Cottage. Yul and Magpie carried the picnic, Shadow assisted Leveret, and Sylvie carried the baby. The girls brought Ioho’s blanket, a clean nappy and his sunshade, and Rufus had a spade, lantern and a crow-bar. Today Yul had promised that they’d try to move one of the stones in front of the chamber and perhaps squeeze inside. Professor Siskin’s notes hadn’t specifically said that there was a chambered tomb on this hill, but he’d suspected there was one somewhere on the estate, in keeping with all the other sacred sites. Rufus was very excited that – with Shadow’s help – it was he who’d discovered it.

Bluebell held Leveret’s hand as they reached the outcrop of rocks and paused to get their breath. The little girl kicked at the ground and her face was red from crying; she hadn’t wanted them to come here today and had had a screaming tantrum back in the Village, and again in the woods just now. Yul had become angry with her, which only made it worse. They could have left her behind with Maizie or in the Nursery, but he’d wanted to make it a family party and little Bluebell would have been missed. He’d hoped she’d get over it, although looking at
her
tearful face now, he wondered if he’d been right to force her to join them.

Leveret dropped to her knees and held Bluebell close, whispering in her ear.

‘Tell me, Blue. You can tell me what’s so bad.’

But the child shook her head obstinately and even poked her tongue out, although Leveret couldn’t see that.

‘I understand you found something bad up here, but you said you’d burnt it, didn’t you? So whatever it was has gone now. Hasn’t it?’

‘I . . . I thought it would go. I thought I could save the day. But it didn’t work. It’s on the prowl now and it’s much worse than the Moonlight Man ever was.’

‘But what is it? I know it’s something to do with a toad because Magpie told me that night.’

‘No! He couldn’t have, because he can’t talk!’

‘I’ve had strange visions about a toad too, Bluebell. I didn’t understand what it meant –
please
tell me what you found. This toad might be something important.’

‘It . . . it was only a dirty old pouch thing on a string and . . . I didn’t see any toad at all,’ said Bluebell reluctantly. ‘I thought if I burnt it . . .’

The party were now moving away; the plan was to eat their picnic up by the stone first and then come down here later to try and shift the boulder.

‘We’re on the move, Leveret!’ said Sylvie. ‘Come on, Bluebell!’

‘We’ll catch up in a second,’ said Leveret. ‘Bluebell’s just telling me something.’

‘I’m not!’ said Bluebell crossly. ‘I just want us to go home! We shouldn’t have come here today. Why is it the Black Moon? What’s that?’

‘Is that what’s been worrying you? You should’ve said! It’s a special Dark Moon and it doesn’t happen very often. Like the Blue Moon is a magical full moon when it’s the second one in a month, the Black Moon is when there’s a second Dark Moon in a month.’

‘I don’t like the Dark Moon anyway,’ said Bluebell, her voice catching. ‘So the Black Moon will be even worse.’

‘I know – most people feel like that,’ said Leveret gently. ‘Me and Yul – we’ve both always loved the Dark Moon and I think Ioho will be the same as he was born on one. But please don’t worry, Blue. The Black Moon will be fine.’

‘
O, P, Q, R
,’ chanted Bluebell, her eyes jumping from one clump of grass to the next. ‘
S, T, U, V, W, X, Y, Z!
’

The picnic was over and Sylvie shook the crumbs from the cloth. Leveret snoozed on the rug with Bluebell cuddled up, thumb in mouth, dozing in the crook of her arm. They were exhausted, and Sylvie gathered they’d had another disturbed night in the tower, where Bluebell had been staying for a few nights. Sylvie gazed down at her daughter and sister-in-law, both looking so peaceful now. The little girl’s face was still puffy where she’d been crying again during the picnic, begging for them all to go back to the Village, much to everyone’s annoyance. It was a relief she’d dropped off to sleep now in the warm May sunshine. Sylvie thought she must bring Bluebell home today as it really wasn’t fair on poor Leveret or Magpie, expecting them to cope with her nightmares. It was a shame they’d started up again after being absent for so long. Other than Ioho’s arrival, Sylvie couldn’t understand what had triggered them.

Yul, Magpie and Rufus had walked back down the hill with the tools and lantern. Celandine had been persuaded to go with them to watch, but she’d returned almost immediately. She’d spotted a papery snake-skin down by the boulders and had shrieked in terror, running back in panic to where Sylvie, Leveret, Bluebell and the baby sat by Hare Stone. The adders were out of hibernation now, basking in the sun to warm their cold blood, the males fighting in their strange upright dance to win the female. Leveret had told them all this after Celandine had come back shuddering with dread at the thought of snakes nearby. Leveret had hoped to allay her fears but Celandine had
said
she was only making it worse, and she really couldn’t bear to hear about the horrible things.

Celandine was still jittery and uncomfortable as she sat now with Sylvie, holding her brother in her arms and rocking him, for her own comfort as much as his. Her silvery blonde hair was almost as long as her mother’s and fell in silky strands around her arms, her curls outgrown. She was becoming so tall now, her limbs as slender as a foal’s, and in September she’d be leaving Nursery to start at the Village School. Sylvie found her really helpful with the baby. Celandine fussed over him like a little mother, helping to bath him, changing his nappies and keeping him amused. She was still a serious, thoughtful child; often she’d look up and Sylvie would see Yul in her smoky grey eyes.

In the bright sunshine they all wore straw hats, and Ioho wore an adorable bonnet to shade his little face. Earlier on, as everyone sat eating the picnic and chatting, they’d all laughed when Rufus had said he looked like a flower with big white petals. Today, at one month old, Ioho had given his first proper smile and Sylvie’s heart had melted. She’d looked deep into her son’s amazing wolf-grey eyes, so like the grandfather’s he’d never know, and she’d poured out her love to him. He was so very special, so precious, and she felt truly blessed. Who’d ever have imagined this darling little boy coming into their lives and truly uniting their family? He was the alchemy of darkness and brightness made one, conceived at the Blue Moon and born at the Dark Moon, living proof of the harmony and balance between his parents. Gazing at the tiny boy, Sylvie felt that he was the reason she’d been brought to Stonewylde; a new life so magical and destined for such great things.

A sudden shadow passed overhead, momentarily darkening the brilliant sunlight, and Sylvie felt her skin prickle. She squinted up, trying to make out its cause, and glimpsed a large, pale bird soaring against the sunbeams, impossible to see clearly. It looked like a barn owl but must surely be a seagull or perhaps a buzzard? The heat was still intense but she shivered and thought suddenly of Yul and the boys down at the entrance to
the
tomb. A whisper of dread trickled through her, for she’d never felt entirely comfortable about opening up this hidden cave in the hillside. Were they alright? Had something terrible happened? The skin on her arms tingled and the fine hair stood on end; briskly she rubbed it and dismissed her silly fears. She reached across and picked up her bottle of water, taking a long draught as she must keep up her fluid intake, what with the heat and breast-feeding.

Then, with her baby cradled happily in her elder daughter’s arms, and her younger daughter cuddled up to her sister-in-law, and all beautiful and right with her world, Sylvie moved the edge of the rug slightly. The viper coiled beneath it stretched forward in smooth slow-motion and stabbed its fangs deep into her ankle. She looked down in complete, paralysed disbelief. The great silver and black chevroned snake recoiled sharply, pulling back into itself, into a kinked double S. Then it slithered away silently out of sight behind the standing stone, away to a new, warm basking spot.

It hadn’t really happened surely – had she just imagined it? Sylvie stared at the rug, then stared at her foot, which had started to swell. There were two puncture holes and her ankle hurt – and now her leg hurt and she sat back suddenly, the world tilting. But it would be alright of course. It was just an adder bite and she wasn’t a baby or young child – thank Goddess it hadn’t bitten Ioho, Bluebell or Celandine! Snake bites in England didn’t kill healthy adults. Hazel had explained all this last summer – only a handful of recorded deaths in many years as very few people were allergic to the venom. Pain, discomfort, even bruising . . . feeling unwell perhaps, but no more than that, and certainly nothing to make a fuss about. She mustn’t frighten the children by screaming. She tried not to imagine the dark venom in her bloodstream, travelling up her leg, in her veins and arteries. Would it affect her milk? What a good job she’d just fed Ioho. She’d have to give him dried baby milk for the next feed just to be on the safe side, or ask Dawn or another nursing mother to feed him. Sylvie was surprised to find herself feeling a little
breathless
. It was just shock of course; she’d be fine. But then . . .