Rosie worked full time at the dairy. Maizie was proud of what her daughter had achieved. Her handfasting with Robin was a good one and he’d proved to be a fine husband. Their two children, Snowdrop and Edrun, were happy in the Nursery every day with all the other little Stonewylders whilst their parents worked.
Robin was in charge of the enormous dairy which had become a huge enterprise, particularly since the cheeses had taken off at Stonewylde.com. Rosie had risen to the challenge of helping to breed a large herd of goats and she supervised the production of goat’s milk and cheeses as well, which were in high demand amongst Outside World customers. The kid-skin products had recently become another profitable side-line along with goats’ meat and Rosie was keen to develop this offshoot of the dairy, wanting to do her bit to help Stonewylde’s economy. But consequently mother and daughter had little private time together for a quiet chat, primarily seeing each other in the Barn when they were involved in community events like this one.
‘Who’s sitting with the little ones tonight?’ asked Maizie, looking at the Yule socks Rosie’s group had been knitting. They were still making up for lost time at the Dark Moon at Samhain.
‘Robin’s sister has them staying at her cottage,’ said Rosie. ‘She really don’t mind and they’re good company for her two.’
‘You know Leveret would come and sit with them, don’t you?’ said Maizie.
Rosie grimaced at this and shook her head.
‘I don’t think Robin’d allow that,’ she said. ‘He don’t think too highly of her and to be honest I’m not sure I trust her either.’
‘Oh Rosie! How can you say that about your sister?’ said Maizie in dismay.
Rosie shrugged and began casting off stitches, as deft at handicrafts as ever.
‘I’m sorry, Mother, but she’s been awful lately and I wouldn’t want to leave my little ones in her care.’
‘Well Sylvie told me that Celandine and Bluebell think the world o’ her,’ said Maizie stoutly. ‘And she’s been very helpful lately. I can’t speak highly enough of the effort she’s been making since she came back from her stay with Yul and Sylvie.’
‘Where is she now? Are Sweyn and Gefrin keeping an eye on her for you?’
‘No, Rosie, our little Leveret has been here all evening making lanterns! I’m surprised you didn’t notice her. She were over there …’
‘So where is she now?’
‘I expect she’s in the privy. She’ll be back any minute now I’m sure, and then I’ll take her home. She’s been peaky lately and she needs her sleep. The girl’s worked hard tonight and I’m proud o’ her.’
‘Well I got here a good half hour ago and I’ve not seen her,’ said Rosie. ‘Are you sure she’s not out gallivanting in the Moon Fullness? You told me she were with that daft Magpie last month and …’
Rosie trailed off guiltily at the stricken look on her mother’s face.
Leveret reached the other side of the Green following her circuitous, spiralling route, not hearing the sounds of merriment spilling from the Jack in the Green, and not noticing the light blazing from the windows of the Great Barn where people were still busy with their Yuletide preparations. She was oblivious to everything except her quest to harvest some sprigs of holly. She ran through the special words for the holly tree in her head, hoping again that she’d remembered them correctly. It wasn’t until she’d almost reached the edge of the Green where the trees stood in a deep fringe of protection that she heard the sound of high-pitched terror. She stopped dead, the spell broken and her heart suddenly hammering.
The sounds were coming from under one of the many sweet chestnut trees, set back from the Green as the holly was, in the thicker part of the wood that surrounded this far end. She started to walk towards it, feet dragging and scared of what she’d find but knowing she had to investigate. With a feeling of dread she recognised her brothers’ voices amongst the jeers and laughter and then realised with horror that the squeals of distress were Magpie’s.
She broke into a run but then slowed again, trying to see what was going on and what they were doing without being spotted herself. Still standing on the Green with her back to the distant Barn and the pub, she peered into the darkness ahead. In the gaps between the thick trunks she made out lights and movement under the hanging