She felt Jay’s grip tighten on her arms and realised she’d tensed up.
‘Clip was with me,’ she said desperately.
‘No he weren’t! We saw him as we left.’
Sweyn’s face loomed into hers and she caught a blast of his foul breath.
‘Back to your old tricks, eh, Lev? Lying to Mother, deceiving her? You won’t get away with it – I’ll tell her and she’ll be so upset with you.’
‘No!’ she cried. ‘It’s none of your business what I do and I’m sick of you and your bullying, you stupid, thick oaf!’
He punched her in the stomach just as he’d seen Jay do at the dance, but harder. She felt as if her guts were exploding and bent over double with the pain, retching into the grass. Jay had let her go, knowing she couldn’t run, and she slowly straightened, wiping her mouth with her sleeve and relieved now that she hadn’t yet eaten. She clutched her stomach and groaned with pain.
‘Nice one!’ said Jay, taking a swig of the cider and passing it round.
‘Mother’s going to see that,’ whispered Leveret when she could speak again. ‘She’s fitting me for my Imbolc dress and she’ll see what you did to me.’
‘Shit!’ muttered Sweyn.
‘I’m going home now,’ she said quietly, turning away from them and starting to walk.
‘Not so fast!’ barked Jay, grabbing her arm and swinging her round. ‘Did we say you could go? We ain’t finished with you yet.’
‘What are we going to do with her?’ cried Gefrin, capering about excitedly. ‘Make her drunk again?’
‘Nah, done that,’ said Sweyn. ‘I wish we could put her in the well like your granny said.’
‘Yeah!’ laughed Jay. ‘But it’s still early and people are about in the Village. Pity, though, ‘cos that would’ve been a laugh.’
‘The river!’ yelled Gefrin, beside himself with glee. ‘Let’s dunk her in the river like we used to!’
Leveret stood there whilst they discussed her fate, sharing the cider around as they egged each other on. She didn’t dare argue in case one of them punched her again and she couldn’t run; her stomach was agony. She started to curse them silently, calling on the Dark Moon magic, calling on Mother Heggy to help her. It didn’t seem to work because they dragged her towards the bridge.
‘We’ll grab her ankles and dip her head in,’ said Jay. ‘The river’s very high.’
‘Yeah, and hold her under like we used to! See if we can beat our record.’
‘If we let her go she’ll drown, so hold on tight,’ said Sweyn, and from the way he staggered she realised they’d had a lot to drink. They’d probably been kicked out of the pub as George was very strict about young lads not having too much, but had taken more cider from home when they called in to look for her. Leveret was really frightened now; she could hear the river and it was indeed high. In the winter months the spring flowed fast and was joined by many tributaries until the river was swollen into a torrent, very different to the peaceful, lazy meander of the warmer months. They might well drop her in and she knew how swift the currents were. She began to cry, hating herself for showing her fear but unable to control it.
They reached the low-sided stone bridge which was just wide enough for a cart to cross. The river was really loud now and Leveret sobbed frantically, begging them to let her go, begging them to do anything they liked but not this. The memories of past torture in the water came crowding in; it had always been a favourite because it left no evidence. Many times her brothers had held her under until she thought her lungs would explode and she’d die. And they’d been sober then and not had Jay with them to add his cruelty.
‘She’s shit scared!’ laughed Jay, holding her easily as she struggled in his grip. ‘She’s really trembling.’
He shoved her down onto her knees and made her bend over the low wall so her head hung over the edge. She resisted all the way, struggling desperately to kneel up. Jay pushed his knee onto her back and pressed her down hard onto the stone, which dug into her sore stomach and hurt badly.
‘You two take an ankle each and for goddess’ sake hold on tight. I don’t want to kill her – that’d spoil all our fun. Have you got her?’