Enchanted Castle Stories

 

 

Outlines, characters, and sample stories for the Enchanted Castle contest

 

 

 

1

Moonslayer of WhiteHall
 

Roger Haller
Feb 1, 2008

 

        The Gauls are wreaking havoc on the isle of Brittany at will. Fiefdom after Fiefdom is falling to these merciless curs. Land was short in France, and landless barons were taking what they wanted.

        The young lord of Dunsmuir must convince his high-minded neighbor to join forces against this advance. His epic adventure includes a boy, and his dragon, a new love interest, war with enemies, and elements, and international espionage of kings, and vermin in disguise.

See a list of characters after the story sample
 

Sir Anthony stabbed out his best shout whisper. “Bert, keep that damnable  steed quiet. These woods are thick with thieves as leaves, and we are in unprotected territory. If you cannot keep him from flaying, my arrow will, and you will have to walk to Dunsmuir castle.”

 “Yes Master…”

 Burt whipped off his waistcoat, and threw it quickly over the steed’s ears, and eyes, then leaned forward to secure it neatly under his jaw by tying the arms together.
 Just as he sat upright, his horse fell first to his knees, then over to the right revealing an arrow through his heart.

 Bert’s eyes shot up in shock at his master, and mentor, to see him diving off his horse, and over a berry bush. Before he could voice his wonder, an arrow ran clear through his own chest, and stole his life before his head hit the ground.

 The rest of the group, and Sir Anthony’s stallion left at full gallop leaving nothing in the clearing but a dead man, a dead horse, and two tonne of silence. Not an insect stirred, and not a leaf quivered in the canopy.

 Anthony lay bleeding from the arrow through his left fore arm, just below the chain mail at the top of his gauntlet. He dared not move; he knew the flow had only started, and the arrow was stopping up most of the blood loss as it was.

 As he landed on his back, his right hand had found its way to his sword, and his belt dagger was neatly held in his left. He knew better than to squeeze the dagger handle until needed, however, there was very little strength in his hand.

 Suddenly, the demons of hell spilled, raging into the glade, and he heard his man being looted, and shouts of commands to find him, and bring him forth.

Just as the din reached the far side of his cover, a voice like the nectar of an angel’s harp broke the roar in half, and dissipated it to murmur.

Lady Wren knew these woods like she knew each braid in her stallions mane. She had played here as a child, and had danced with the windsprites, and made friends with the woodland fairies long ago. Wren knew too well that when the wind whispered silence, death was nearby.

Longfellow snorted a steamy gust, and his ears perked sharply as Wren reached down softly, and comforted the high-spirited steed beneath her. "I feel it too, big fellow," she murmured softly as she leaned forward, and patted the withers of her horse reassuringly. Her hand moved from the warmth of Longfellow's coat, and swiftly toward the leathery pouch that protected her twenty-one inch blade of finely honed steel.

Wren was a lady but also known by many in these woods to be a defender. A warrior that few, if any, who had come across her aggressive side, lived to tell about. Today was a day like so many before. These were her father's lands, and those who came here to plunder others, were her enemies. Lady Wren had help. A lot of help. These woods were home to many special friends.

"It is time to fly Nightshade," Wren commanded the peregrine falcon, perched on her left shoulder. "Be my eyes, and lead me to those who have stolen both souls, and goods." With the release of his tiny restraint, Nightshade took to the skies with a shrill shriek, and the speed of an arrow.

The high-pitched plaintive cries of the falcon alerted the dogs of Whitecastle manor, and they began to howl. Good, thought Wren to herself. Soon the groundskeeper shall release the hounds, and they too shall join me in the woods. The hounds of Whitecastle were a fierce guard themselves, and few whose scent they trailed, exited these woods unscathed. Wren’s only hope was that she was able to reach any surviving victims before the hounds did.

Longfellow's gallops instinctively followed the cries of the falcon, and soon Wren and steed reached the area of assault. The massive stallion snorted as they passed his fallen comrade, and the lifeless body of the male victim, now naked and stripped by the woodland thieves.

The cur broke, and scattered the moment the silken voice sounded, and a screech of a raptor joined the high pitched scream of a stallion angered. The troop was driven swiftly from the site accompanied by animal screams, and sounds of pain from the slower of the invaders. Anthony kept his cover however; he knew not who or what would attempt to change his future next.

He slowed his breathing to an even tempo, let each breath out slowly, and drew each with as much care. He wanted to draw many more.

This was dangerous territory ever since the fall of the neighboring Fiefdom. Whitecastle would be the next to fall if the Gauls should win this forest.

The word was that these woods were sacred to the woodland magic. They could well protect themselves, but protect them from what? Did they consider the people of Whitecastle enemy as well? Did they welcome invasion?

Whitecastle had not been an endearing friend over the last fifty years, and coming through these woods was a calculated risk at best. Something had to be done, and Sir Anthony was the only one remotely capable. Dunsmuir could live a tenuous peace with Whitecastle, but surely, peace could not be had if the Gauls should conquer any more land. A partnership must be forged, and it must be now if any of the cartels should survive.

Anthony was rudely brought out of his silent thoughts with the prick of his sternum by a long, narrow, waved blade of the most amazing silver sheen.

The blade approached him from his life saving berry bush, and there was no sound, just an increased pressure to his chain mail. He watched as links effortlessly separated like roast goose flesh.

Anthony was not a fool; he eased his grip on his blades, and  dropped them to his sides.

The Angelic voice demanded he stand, and move slowly around the bush.

With no small effort, Sir Anthony became vertical, and approached the theater of his latest trial. His efforts were rewarded by a vision of such beauty he had trouble countering the force of gravity on his lower jaw.

Behind this lady was an assortment of wood folk such as he had never known, but in story. That angel's voice demanded his accounting so he began to explain his arrival upon this event.

"You don't look like a thief," Wren said as she circled the stranger. "Does he smell like a thief, Katya?"

The moment Wren spoke the name, a massive gray timber wolf stepped from behind a nearby bush, and began to sniff at the stranger's crotch. The wolf wrinkled the wiry, white hairs on its jaws, and snarled deep, just before it placed its two front paws on the stranger's chest, and looked deeply into his fear stricken eyes...

"Katya wants to know if you're a thief, and why you disturb her woods stranger. I suggest you answer her quickly because she appears to not have had lunch today." Wren knew by the crest on the stranger's breastplate that he was indeed no thief, but she so enjoyed having the upper hand that she couldn't help but continue the game.

"I am Sir Anthony of Dunsmuir, M'Lady," the man spoke with a soft voice, making certain not to startle the wolf at his throat," If you don't mind I'd rather not become food for your friend." His voice quivered with sincerity, enough so that Wren whistled softly to her woodland friend, and Katya came obediently to Wren's side, you could see the relief settle over him.

"Eh-hem, thank you. M'Lady, I've never looked a beast such as that squarely in the eyes before, and I... well... I'm not feeling so very well at the moment. Excuse me while I..."

Sir Anthony's voice trailed off as he collapsed to his knees in front of Wren. It was then that she noticed his injury. An arrow had pierced his left forearm, no doubt, a poisonous Gaul shaft, known to be used by those thieving killers.

Wren's enjoyment of the Gaul hunt would have to be cut short, for she knew within hours the stranger would die an agonizing death from the poison. Although he was quite pale, he appeared to be somewhat handsome, and she was curious as to why he would travel so far into her territory. She would save his life, and interrogate him later.

"Kneel Longfellow," Wren commanded her stallion as she struggled to help the injured knight up onto her steed. "I am forever in your debt fair Lady," were the final words Sir Anthony spoke as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Wren secured her limp rider to Longfellow's saddle with a leather-tethering strap. It would be a short ride to the healer's hut. The woodland witch knew every cure...

The inky black of unconsciousness slowly faded to lighter shades of gray, until the white cloud before him grew shape, and structure to become a bodice of amazing lure just scant inches from his face.

Anthony dropped his eyelids to slits so as not to break the moment, and instead soaked in the luxury of being tended. A cool, damp cloth was smoothing his forehead, and a soft hand was cupping the back of his head for stability.

The straining bodice was now brushing his cheek, and nose with an innocent diabolic that hinged his mind on the edge of madness. He concentrated on the voices to keep his sanity, and discovered just who had pulled his sorry hide from the glen.

This was the daughter of the very man he needed to convince to the benefits of coalition. The woman of countless dreams was discussing his recovery with a witch healer of much importance to her, and they felt his body was just now climbing back from the clutch of the toxin.

A mighty whack on his left calf brought his eyes to light, and a hacking chortle revealed the hag’s glee as she barked, ”That’s enough, silly nave. You have been awake for long enough. It is time for you to share your wisdom!”

“Ahhh! Witch, why would you smack me so?”

“It is time you stopped faking, and feed us information.” This time it was the angelic voice of Lady Wren of Whitecastle who demanded his voice.

“Good Lady, I was on my way to talk with your father.”

“I am the Mistress of Whitecastle, rogue You will talk with me.”

“Aye, good Lady, but should your esteemed father not hear my words as well?”

Wren decided to seek a reaction to determine this knight’s heart. “My father has been missing for a fortnight plus three, and a ransom note arrived by arrow just this aft. It seems the Gauls would have our Fiefdom.”

Wren got the reaction she was hoping for. The knight was silent, and his eyes told the tale. With the shock of this news, his mind was already at work.

He sat with effort, and looked her in the eye… after a quick glance again at her bodice.

“Good Lady, I have a plan. Will ye hear me out? Good hag, please listen as well as I will need the efforts of all in your magic forest as well as your strong potions. Good witch, I thank you for my life before we get into this discussion.”

"It would be wise that you remember these words knave with the wanton blue eyes from afar; many things I be, but a good witch, be not one among them". Having spoken her words, the old witch gave a sneerful look at Sir Anthony, raised her gaudish ornamented cloak over her head, and vanished.

Wren chuckled quietly as she watched the color drain again from the knight's face. His bright blue eyes stared into the vacant spot where the witch once stood, and his mouth gaped open wide... "Never rely on a witch to aid in good deeds, unless of course, she is in your debt. In your case sir, I think it be you, who be indebted to the witch."

 

Characters in order of appearance:

Sir Anthony - A young knight tempered with family tragedy, and a looming threat to the way of life enjoyed by his family, people, and neighbors. Soon they would all be dead or homeless at the feet of the Gauls.

Bert - Sir Anthony's short lived but loyal Squire

An Army of marauding Gaul soldiers - Cast of hundreds

Lady Wren -  An unlikely savior with a look of an angel, and the hard headed determination, and skill of a warrior. Lady Wren also had an interesting band of gifted friends.

Katya - A timber wolf bitch that proved to be a witch known of the forest, and friend of Lady Wren

Cyrus -  The older boy Dragon keeper

Tyo - The younger twin Dragon Keeper

Garvendel - One of Lady Wren's trusted knights. who captured Cyrus, and brought him into the castle

Martha - Lady in waiting for Lady Wren

Marcus - Gallen's man

Garrett - Gallen's man

Gallen - Father of Cyrus

Moon Slayer -  The dragon who would become the Bain of the Gauls.

         

2

CASTLE OF THE GREATEST MEDIEVAL KINGDOMS
By
Marian Huyck Grossi

February 3, 2008

 

CHILDREN'S VERSION

 
 The deep sleep Malcolm had gone into during a chess tournament
carried him back in time, back to when he created a place of joy and happiness, of wonder and learning…a place where people were heralded with the finest medieval music.
 
Music, once used to herald the arrival of a warlord or knight who was held in high regard, was welcoming tourists. Castle knights in beautiful armor carried magnificent shields and jewel-encrusted swords and sat atop the finest steeds in the land; Andalusian horses led the parade that carried the visitors to the castle.
 
Banners waved as they dipped in crossed formation allowing all people from all countries to walk beneath a tunnel of colorful banners that was the length and width of a wooden bridge across a moat of crystal-clear water. Beneath the surface, they saw many fish and water plants flowing amid the lighted depths in gentle motion.
 
They were being transported into the world of another land named Castle of the Greatest Medieval Kingdoms.
 
***
 
The flags were beckoning them to walk through grand shields of various designs and words written in medieval lettering. All shields opened, and people continued on their way through the entrance to be welcomed by peasants and knaves handing them scrolls on which the scribe had written directions to various sites and pleasures offered.
 
The Castle of the Greatest Medieval Kingdoms was theirs. The people had spoken after reading their scrolls to find out what their first stop should be. There were many to choose from. 
 
***
 
Interspersed among the crowds of people, monks, knaves, princesses, and knights walked to shake hands and stood to explain their land and time.  Medieval persona led groups, which strolled the castle grounds and took in the highlights of the massive site.
 
The streets appeared to be made of cobblestone, yet were lit from beneath and very smooth. 
 
***
 
Malcolm stood still as his mechanical dragon gave birth.
 
The roaring fire-breathing dragon of great size beckoned each person, now known as a tourist, with mouth wide open.  His teeth, as if by magic, spun around scooping up passengers for a slithering slippery ride within his body. All of the guests were surprised when they found they were being taken on a trip through his world from infancy to adulthood. They fought his battles with him.  Seeing the swords puncture his sides made them scream out. All those inside the great dragon watched in wonder as they passed through his translucent memory films. They felt him tremble in fear and anger; they felt his sorrow. They felt his laughter when he met his true love. The entire time, they continued to move through his body. They exited with a fast right down his slithery wicked tail, whipped this way and that.
 
Those who did not stop at the dragon, known as Dragon’s Lair, continued to walk on and point in all directions.
 
Malcolm’s dream had built his Castle of the Greatest Medieval Kingdoms. It was magnificent.
 
Many of the even grander shields were encrusted with stones and opened to shops holding jewels, flags, music, and clothing. Foods were eaten on both sides of the many shield-door rooms.
 
They felt the joy of the time and the battles as well; it seemed like they had been transformed back to 476.
 
***
 
Wooden carriages held even more wares to be sold, foods of the era, eaten with guests’ hands, and many more items related to the medieval era. Flags were swiftly air brushed with people’s names by a modern scribe who surely traveled through time. Modern features the guests enjoyed were photos taken of guests in medieval setting and rendered by grand masters of art and shirts and paper with family names set in medieval style by scribes.
 
Grand horse-drawn carriages were filled with people who preferred seeing this Castle of Great Medieval Kingdoms while sitting. 
 
Hearing sounds of lances pitting steel against steel, many tourists stopped to observe others participating in the fight of champions, sparks flying. They watched in awe as people were held in place on horses made of synthetic materials, which looked exactly like horses, complete with hair and mane.  None of the mechanisms could be seen by the excited knights-to-be.  Beneath the horses, a maze of rollers, pulleys, gears, and chains whipped horses and riders to near collision and made the riders scream in fear of being the swords next victim.
 
***
 
Walking further Malcolm went deeper into his dream. The creation of Castle of Greatest Medieval Kingdoms had only just begun.
 
Various towers held the most unusual wares Malcolm ever envisioned in his deep sub-conscious state. He knew this was to be a landmark that would forever be hailed as the safest and most awesome in the world. 
 
Noises of happy people mingled within the world of the Castle. The vast acres and the growth sprouting from the earth and those full-grown were colorful, and many were fruit bearing. In front of the fruit-bearers, carriages sold nectar of the trees. Nectar of the Peach, Knight of the Kiwi, and Princess of the Pomegranate drinks were served in colorful Castle of the Greatest Medieval Kingdoms crest and name. They were abundant with fruit. No one knew that the fruit, a magical creation of the castle’s wizard, was made of plastic that did not fade from heat or wind and began to glow with the nighttime festivities.
 
***
 
In one of the towers, Juliet’s Ethereal Peace, men, women, and children were massaged by lovely maidens and jesters.
 
Another tower, Medieval Head Maids, transformed tourists to princesses with grand hairpieces, which flowed with the breeze. 
 
Walking out of the tower named Maiden’s Golden Threads, people were dressed in medieval attire from their heads to their toes with plumes in their velvet hats and veils flowing from their long and braided hair. Many young people were even more beautifully attired and carried wonderful wands of gold and silver with flowing colorful streamers, which reflected the sun’s rays. 
 
Men were not forgotten. They were dressed in grand style when they
left King Evald's Closet.
 
The Jester’s Is It or Not Shoppe had people laughing in droves as they purchased magic and mystery items. They had watched their fare being used before buying the wonders in a lengthy show on a revolving stage of varying heights. The stage was cut in sections, much like a pie, and as each section went up, the one nearest it went down, which baffled the people even more. Not a word was spoken; only laughter could be heard. Some of the people in medieval attire were taken on stage to help perform with one of the Jesters. Laughter became even louder as they attempted to follow exactly what they saw without a word spoken.
 
***
 
As Malcolm’s dream continued, he saw a castle tower named Check Mate. He walked in. There he found many tables of fine marble with inlaid chessboards. The playing pieces were not movable by hand; they were mechanically manipulated. Players had to be quick of thought and deft of hand to win at the game. They were playing, not against another person, rather against a knave of plaster with animated antics to distract the players.  Many guests won several times over. They were given silver and gold coins to be used at other attractions the Castle of Greatest Medieval Kingdoms had within her.
 
Life-sized chess pieces were played on boards with guests moving
pieces. It was a time of relaxation. Round tables were placed about the
life-sized chessboards with fringed umbrellas to keep them cool. Handmaidens carried large plumes and gently waved them to bring a slight feel of breeze to those playing.  
 
Games such as The Sprites Hop-Scotch confused children and adults as they tried to hopscotch while attempting to dodge a tiny sprite that jumped up at random.
 
For those who felt no fear, there were the Torture Chambers. Once inside, fear gripped every muscle, every nerve. They were exposed to the stretching rack, water torture, and more. Malcolm began to sweat in his dream. 
 
*** 
 
Another moat! Malcolm saw another moat! What would happen if I walked across it, he wondered in his dream.
 
When he crossed the grand moat with golden engraved arches, which had a hook on the ends and held huge baskets of flowers with scampering nymphs flitting from one to another flower, he smiled. He saw the tiniest bright-lighted gremlins cavorting on the stationary arch poles. Malcolm stood still and silently tried to capture a teasing sprite. When he could not, Malcolm stood still - mouth agape as he realized they were on the inside of the poles among the translucent gold.
 
A grand carriage of white with gold trim and wooden wheels with jeweled hubs, pulled by two white stallions adorned in plumes and gold harnesses and driven by a stately man dressed in colorful and proud attire, stopped. Standing on each side of two doors to the carriage, men in pure white costumes with gold threads opened the carriage doors. When he walked in, Malcolm found other people; many said, “Can you believe this? It is more than any world can expect!”
 
 
The deep sleep Malcolm had gone into during a chess tournament carried him back in time, back to when he created a place of joy and happiness, of wonder and learning…a place where people were heralded with the finest medieval music.
 
***
 
The passengers were driven around a courtyard with a real cobblestone circular drive. The center of the courtyard had a large stage, empty now, but ready for the next show in three hours. It was to be a dance of the maiden’s fair. Malcolm became excited, not wanting to miss a thing.
 
Stopping at the entrance to the hugest tower in the kingdom, other than the entrance tower to the Castle, Malcolm stepped out with other guests.
 
***
 
In the Queen’s quarters at the very top of the castle where the entire kingdom could be seen, Princess Juliet dressed in a magnificent purple satin gown with low-cut gathered bodice, looked at her mother in surprise, “Oh, mother, look at the strange people being helped out of our kingdoms carriage.” 
 
Queen Ursula’s deep blue velvet gown with many layers of stiff crepe beneath the skirt made a swishing noise when she walked out onto the balcony. 
 
“Child, what are they wearing, clothes of another nation? Where are the garments all royalty and peasants wear today? We must ask the soothsayer.”
 
Princess Juliet continued to stare out the tower leading to the balcony where she watched the grand parades. Strange people exiting the carriage were not in a parade, although there were many, and they were dressed in odd clothing.
 
They chattered and laughed, seemed to be happy, with young and old wearing odd-looking dark masks around their eyes. 
 
How can they see, she wondered.
 
***
 
He didn’t know he had been designated King for the week; everything he wanted during a week’s stay would be his, paid with the tax collector’s money, which was engraved with a crest of the Castle of the Greatest Medieval Kingdoms. This was his castle where he could get his night’s rest and be fed his food while in bed. He would be waited on and bowed to. His every whim was satisfied. Although Malcolm quickly found out that he could not have wine or spirits, he happily settled for the juice of white grapes.
 
His baggage was in his suite, which had a sign, Knight of the Thoroughbred, on the door of the grand suite with many rooms.
 
All guests did not have to move their baggage into their rooms; it awaited them. They were, each and every one, treated like Kings and Queens.
 
The medicine man of the castle had his own room, and those who did not feel well went to his room for assistance. He had others helping him. He also had what Malcolm knew as wheelchairs, but looked like carriages with fringed tops, to keep the passengers out of the elements in case the need arose. Many people visiting the castle used them.
 
That night, although tired, Malcolm was hungry and went down the winding stairs to the room marked, King’s Harvest. There he saw long tables set in an octagon formation. In the center of the tables were lighted floors, now empty, but music harkened the coming of entertainment. 
 
Food was brought in huge platters, and guests made their own selections. The plates were made of pewter, and forks and knives were heavy pewter as well. Each mug from which to drink had the crest of the Kingdom on it. These would be guest gifts upon leaving for their individual turret or to return to the nighttime’s festivities.
 
The music in center stage became louder heralding the attraction was near! From beneath the floor arose eight horses in magnificent attire, one for each long table. The horses were made of a wonderful plastic with horsehair the wizard had created. The most beautiful maidens that Malcolm had ever seen stood atop the horses. They were dressed in short full-netted skirts and danced atop their steeds, which were now slowly moving in a circle so each table could see the performance. The center of the stage opened like a blooming flower and arose higher than the horses and the dancers atop them. Iridescent bubbles flowed up and out of the bloom, wafting gently around the room.
 
A single luxurious velvet and gossamer drape with the tiniest lights Malcolm had ever seen bought forth a pair of singers. A stately man with a beard, wearing wonderfully colorful clothes, tight stockings and a hat with plumes was accompanied by a woman dressed in shimmering satin and velvet of deepest red and black with her bodice cut low. Her hair in a net was held in place by many flowers and ribbons. The music began. The duo sang music from an opera, which drew great applause and boos from others. They then began to sing music of the day Malcolm came from and drew huge applause. All the while, the horseback riders danced and sang in harmony.
 
Full, Malcolm went to turret, looked out over the vast land beneath and wondered if he should rest in his canopied bed or go out and enjoy more festivities.
 
He opted to take a carriage ride to the departure gate and have his golden necklace put on as proof he could return, and he went off into the wonderful wonderland of Castle of the Greatest Medieval Kingdoms.
 
It was nighttime, and faeries were twinkling and flitting in the trees and overhead across the many walkways. He had been transported back in time.
 
Then he heard:
 
Checkmate!
 
Malcolm smiled; he knew he would return and continue his adventure.
 
 
 
ADULT VERSION:
 
Since most all adults have a child within them the games above can be adapted to adult tastes with few changes in design. 
 
For instance: 
 
WELCOME
 
It will be a magnificent surprise to guests when they are greeted with banners bidding them welcome when they drive or are driven across a lavish moat.
 
Rest for the Evening or Week Visitor
 
Your guest cottages blend in around the walls surrounding your entire kingdom, from the outside looking at the walls. Yet, once they see their cottages they will find their quarters are actually lavish turrets and castles, some with winding stairways leading to the top portion of their luxurious suites. Vines are growing on the outside brick and marble walls, flowers and trees such as lilac and weeping willow give warmth and comfort to each guest. Taking into consideration some guests will be allergic to most all types of trees and pollens there is an area for their cottages without them being set apart from other guests.
 
There are no curtains on the windows. In place of drapes a remote control system is used to close a curtain, which from the outside looks like the walls. When the “wall” is opened the windows are rustic with wooden looking panes in crosshatch pattern. 
 
The décor in each cottage is different, much like the castle Malcolm stayed in at the children’s theme park above with all doors made to look like shields, resplendent with jeweled designs. Every cottage will look like it is right out of the medieval era, with the names instead of numbers identifying the cottage.
 
Some of the beds will hang from chains, other suites will be luxurious and not to be forgotten some will be disguised as torture chambers. All of the beds are remote controlled and adjust in height to suit your guests.
 
Inside all rooms scrolls herald the entire day and nights events and dining fare. They are put in the rooms daily when the maids dressed in proper attire go in to the rooms for bed changes and room cleaning. On each bed your guests will return to a jeweled paper box or any number of items matching the room décor, each filled with fresh fruit or chocolates. 
 
The soaps and amenities will not look the same as most people are used to seeing. They will be wrapped, of course, but have the appearance of being hand shaped (soaps), or hand bottled, (creams and shampoos).
 
The Dragon’s Lair for adults is an awesome lounge with gentle cooling systems guests will feel on their walk or ride via an airport-type people mover into the Lair. Films depicting the era are shown from inside the walls that create a frosted effect for your guests. 
They will wonder what is happening next.  The dance floor is made to look like rough pebbles with glitter-like lights. The vision is remarkable.
 
The lavish seating is elegant with carved chairs elegant with griffins on the arms and center backs.  Each chair is sumptuous and plush with thick cushioned velvet seats. Tables are equally elegant with carved wooden figures in various scenes surrounding the entire edges which all protected with resin.  With a push of a button disguised in the table guests can send a remote signal to their servers.
 
Of course, the hostesses, barkeep and other personnel will be appropriately dressed in clothing of the time.
 
***
 
The Castle is the clubhouse for a huge 18-hole golf course with carts the look like power driven wagons straight out of medieval times. A carriage, much like the lavish one Malcolm saw in his dream for children, is breath taking as it delivers guests to the clubhouse at the course.
 
Once inside the clubhouse/castle the décor is in keeping with the theme, yet with far more power and strength of the time depicted. In the lounge area of the huge castle clubhouse the entertainment, much like described for the children’s theme park is performed daily for clubhouse guests.
 
Weddings and anniversaries will be held in an outdoor area that looks like a brick bridge with a still moat beneath.  Flowers, the color of the event, will be used on the walls of the towers leading to the bridge.  A Viking type ship will carry the wedding party as the vows take place. 
 
***
 
Swords pitting steel against steel, instead of a children/adult theme park ride will be a magnificent polo match or powerful games on horses with participants in knights clothing and carrying shields and swords.  The battle of the knights of the kingdom will take place in an arena.
 
Seating encircles the arena with guests sitting on brick seats.  In the wintertime the entire arena will have a dome to cover it as the games continue.
 
***
 
Check Mate is a nice relaxing home for chess players with a side room for guests to enjoy cigars and cognac.
 
***
 
Torture Chambers will be an opera or stage show set in the era, such as Othello. The performances at Torture Chambers will be of the more gruesome nature.
 
***
 
The Carriage House will be a contrast to the Torture Chambers with lighter entertainment.
 
***
 
Sprites Hop-Scotch can be easily changed into Sprites Hop Scotch, indicating it is a bar with huge collection of draft beers and ales and rare scotches.
 
***
 
The Castle Dungeon will be a huge collection of old wines in a museum like setting.  You will also have artifacts of the era displayed in the Dungeon.
 
***
 
King’s Harvest is the most formal dining area in your kingdom. Men and women dress with flair, show, and drama. They are the kings and queens and are treated as such with peasants and maidens and having only two tables per server.
 
***
 
Jester’s Is It or Jester’s Not is your kingdom’s comedy club.
 
***
 
King Evald’s Closet is a men’s store with dress and sports clothing, shoes, colognes, and miscellaneous items men may need or want.
 
***
 
Maiden’s Golden Threads is the women’s shoppe; complete with everything a woman needs, or doesn’t need!
 
***
 
Medieval Head Maids is the beauty and nail salon for men and women. 
It would be delightful to have separate areas of the kingdom for men and women. 
 
***
 
Juliet’s Ethereal Peace is the spa; massage room, Feng Shui, saunas, Jacuzzi’s and all amenities are made to look like they are from the era.
 
***
 
Torture Racks will be the massive work out room with attendants for every four guests. This is complete with lap pools, racquetball courts, and other exercise based games or walks.
 
***
 
Scribe’s Pen is where your resort guests will go to buy any kind of writing materials they need. From stationary to pen and pencil sets, stamps, wax, even art supplies with canvas for those who would like to sit out and paint the grounds.
 
***
 
As guests leave your resort, they will turn back, not wanting to leave and will be forever enchanted with the kingdom.  They will share their memories and photos with others and all will return again and again.
 
THE BEGINNING as there is no end.

 

 

 

3

          Primordial Crusaders

 

 

By
Gerardine Baugh©2/2008
 
     The narrow staircase spiraled up into the castle tower, thick, cold stone, worn perilously smooth from centuries of water trickling down. As the day waned the walls closed in on me as I slowly ascended.  
 
     Tonight, without worry of the impending climb, I had slipped off my cumbersome Chopines. They are supposedly the rage. I tossed them behind a shrub as I sneered at the folly of their design. Instead I slip on my leather slippers.
 
     When I wish to gain time, as is my quest tonight, I navigate bare footed. With my slippers laced together on the belt of my waist coat, I hooked my skirt in my belt. With a carefully placed foot on each step, I brushed my hands across the stone walls and started the climb.  Over night a mossy slime had grown which made the stairway even more tortuous than usual.
 
     Each evening I navigate this staircase for my nightly prayer vigil; tonight, I would not be going to pray. 
 
     My concentration waned when I heard moans floating upward from the dungeon deep below the tower.  I tried not to bring to mind the atrocities being executed in that dungeon. Men and women imprisoned for misdeeds they did not comment, others for their own folly and perversions. Escape, though infrequent has happened. Without thought, my hand checked the dagger strapped to my thigh. My heart pounded. Still I continued my arduous climb.
 
     I finally reached the top step. The room opened up in front of me.  The barrel vaulted ceiling towered overhead. To my left, a fireplace so large a horse could live in it without discomfort.  I smiled with remembrance, as a child I always had tried to hide my whereabouts from my nanny. There was a time I made my horse climb this staircase with me. He was all but wedged in half way up, the slide down just about cost him his life.  I was punished with scrubbing the kitchen floors for a month.
 
     The chiding from my brothers was the painful thorn that pierced my pride. I have fought against who I was my whole life. Never feeling as if I belonged, always standing up to my older brothers, all six if need be. During my skirmishes I never backed down when they came up against me. I was schooled with my brothers in the art of sword fighting, horse back riding, and hand to hand combat. Occasionally I would goad an unsuspecting male into a fight, I always won. I always came away with bruises, scratches and torn clothes. However my adversary would be worse than I, as he groveled in the dirt losing face to a female. That all ended when I turned fourteen, my aunt Gertrude came to live with us, she then insisted I learn the art of being a Lady.
 
     I glanced around the room; the ancient tapestries hung high on the walls a pattern of unicorns, dragons and vines. In one a phoenix was portrayed blood red in fire and life with a tangle of knots and golden stories weaved in its thread.  Situated in the center of the room beneath a massive carved oak table was a thick rug embellished with heavy ornamentation of tassels and stains.
 
     The room itself had been swept clean and a fire burned brightly in the fireplace. My mouth watered as the smell of the wild boar drifting though the air. Normally the food would be cooked and brought up from the kitchen, but tonight was special, the old castle was being used, as it was a full moon and the men were gathering. I shouldn’t even be here tonight. Some of these men are too dangerous to meet on the road. To be caught in this place is pure lunacy.
 
     I had heard rumors that the Grand Druid, imprisoned in the dungeon would be brought out tonight.
 
     I slipped over to the arrow hole. I eased in behind the stone partition alcove which allowed me to disappear from those in the room. I leaned against the wall still warm from the rays of the setting sun.  I could see out over the castle grounds. The sheer drop along the Castle wall always brought me a thrill, as if in anticipation of a fight. I looked out over the moat below, and watched a shepherd and his sons’ herd the sheep back to the safety of the town’s walls.  Tomorrow was to be the town festival.  Booths only half way completed, left empty a sad testament to fear.
 
     My plan; one I must admit I had not truly thought all the way through, was to stay silent and hidden during tonight’s parley so I would be able to hear all from this alcove.
 
     I could see the town’s people busily readying for the night. Smoke swirled around roof tops as suppers were being prepared.
 
     I could see the last of the suns rays casting shadows over the old stones, sentinels that lined the pathway into the castle. The castles garden of herbs and vegetables looped and grew around them.  I enjoyed standing here too just past the midday watch as the shadows appeared to connect the center of the stone circle like the spokes on a wheel.
 
    This place once known for song and dance now stands silent and vigilant.
 
      I must have dozed wedged into the corner; I awoke with a start from the hearty laughter and the clanging of two swords.
 
     My stomach grumbled as the smell of the food waft into my cubby hole. 
 
     “That is impossible!”  My father’s voice seemed to vibrate though the stone walls
 
     “Are you calling me a liar?”  I heard the ‘shink’ sound of a sword leaving its scabbard.
 
     “If I am to call you anything Sir Ralph, it would be a fool! Put away that sword, we have fighting to do, but not with each other.”  My father growled, “at least not yet.”
 
     A moment of silence filled the air, and then with a non-humorous laugh I heard the sword being set on the table.
 
     “How can we stop them from coming?”  The Earl of Sumners asked.  “They have furrowed a path from the sea to our doorstep in blood.”
 
     “Are you afraid to die?”  My older brother’s bravado was real. He enjoyed a fight and would enjoy dying in one as well as I.
 
     “You are a pup, Rocelin.”  Sir Berenger laughed.  “What do you know of war, or of the evil that is clawing at our doorway as we speak?”
 
     My brother started to say something then stopped, I could picture my fathers hand come up in midair halting his comments.  “My eldest son is the one that brought the news, he saw what they have done, and he warned us of the danger.”
 
     “So are you saying my lord that ‘your son’ ran home to his Mother?”  Lord Jared scoffed. 
 
     “You speak ill of the dead!”
 
      “Hardly!  I hear she still walks these walls moaning and groaning, a specter with no substance.” Lord Jared heckled. “Ahh that sister of yours. She is of an essence that should be adorning my abode with warm breath and heaving bosom” He signed loudly, “My walls would not be silent with the resonance of her…” His voice thickened eyes narrowed then he slowly added, “Contentment.”
 
     Jeering laughter mingled with the sounds of my brother’s angry growl followed by dishes clattering to the floor.  My father’s Mastiffs started barking and growling, I could picture their teeth bared and snarling as they tried to join in, anticipating the taste of blood.
 
     “Stop! We don’t have time for this, we need to decide.  They will be here within a fortnight.”  That was said by the old priest.  “We have only five houses here tonight, a runner was sent out to warn twenty others. That would have taken the word out to the sea.”  He wheezed as he spoke. Father Thomas had used his station for gluttony and so his weight caused him great distress when talking, walking and breathing.  I was surprised he was able to get up the staircase. He must have been pulled up from the lower levels by the servants.
 
     “We have contacted the Druids to help us.”  My father announced.
 
     ‘The Druids!’ I put my hand over my mouth, my thoughts nearly spilling out. Father Thomas and Sir Osgood tortured and tormented them for years why would they help us? As I finished that thought, my youngest brother, Robert vocalized it to the table.  Others in agreement mumbled until the priest slammed his fist on the table.  “They will come and speak with us tonight. They too have a stake in our survival.”
 
     I slumped back against the stone. Then looked out over the dark moors, I could see though the thickening fog a bluish glow slowing edging towards the castle.
 
     They were coming.
 
     I watched as the pinpoints of light gathered in front of the castle. I shivered. The servants would tell me someone just walked across my grave. I wondered now if maybe I was close to being put in it.
 
     I could hear the shuffling of iron on the stone steps. 
 
     My father’s voice sounded slightly shaken as he welcomed the Grand Druid. The guard was ordered to remove the shackles before my father once more spoke.  “Please have a seat, partake in our food.”

     “Thank you my lord, for the hospitality.”  He said with disdain.  “I did not come to eat.”
 
     I sighed knowing that was affront to an insult. Then held my breath hoping no one heard me. I continued to breathe as my father spoke.  “Then let’s get on with this. Do you know what is coming to our lands?”

     “Yes “
 
     I wanted badly to peer around the wall, just to see the man who stood so calmly in front of my father. Very few people were privy to meeting The Grand Druid.
 
     “Can you join with us to stop them?”  Lord Pennington asked.
 
     “Why should we? You have killed us over trivial nonsense for centuries?”
 
     “This is ridiculous they cannot be reasoned with, they are addled brained.”  This came from Sir Regis he believed every living thing was beneath his boot.
 
     “If that is what you think, then I will be leaving.”  The sound of a chair scraping on the floor, followed by the rest of the men standing all at once followed.
 
     “Please, please!”  My father said.  “We are here to talk not fight, please stay. I beg of thee”
 
     It took a few minutes. Then the sound of everyone sitting back down followed into my corner.
 
     “They will come quickly.”  The Grand Druid stated.
 
     “Yes, we are aware but how are we to stop them?”
 
     “You can’t.” The Grand Druid responded curtly. 
 
     I heard the chairs move again the room erupted in sound. This time more anguished than angry.
 
     The priest’s voice bellowed over the crowd.  “What do you mean sir, we can’t?”
 
     “They come with lizard-beasts, creatures that will step over you without noticing, unless of course they are hungry.”  He said with distain.  “You will not be dealing with ordinary men, your only hope of surviving is to hide until they pass by.”
 
     “Hide!”  Douglas’s voice bellowed. “Never! I am not a coward who hides like a woman. As for these’ lizard-beasts’, do you refer to dragons?  That too must be a mistake!  No such creature exists.”
 
     I heard the Grand Druid laugh.  “You fools will need two things to stave off these invaders. First you will need the magic and heart of my people.  Second, you will need your women fighting next to you if you want to survive these onslaughts.”
 
     “Women are inferior to men in fighting.”  The priest’s voice silenced the din.
 
     “I can agree to a point, a woman is better with a bow yet slow with a sword. A women’s cunning will add to this fight. For they believe women inferior, as you do.”  The Grand Druid sneered.  “Use that and you may have a chance.”
 
     “You are mad.”
 
     “Really?” His voice was filled with laughter.
 
     My skin went cold.  He knew I was here.
 
     “If I can prove you wrong, will you listen?”
 
     “If sir, you can prove us wrong, now…  I will listen.”  The priest laughed.
 
     My brothers went silent. I could feel their eyes searching the corners.
 
     I head the sound of a short sword pulled from its scabbard and set on the table.
 
     “The Magistrate laughed.  “That is, if you have a woman that can pick up this sword and fight better than my dear nephew here.”  He gestured towards a thirteen year old stuffing his face full of pies, who looked up startled.” Yes him.” He answered with a heavy sigh.  “And he sir can not even brandish a sword let alone lift it.”
 
     “I will do you better. I will fight, only in play. To show you of a woman that can wield a   sword.”  As he spoke he walked towards my hiding place, his arm appeared next to me as he grabbed my forearm then hesitated.  “Do we have a bargain, or not?”
 
     “Yes, we have a ‘bargain,’ where will you find this woman?”
 
     I was pulled from behind the blind.
 
     “Alexandra!” My father rose in shock.
 
     With a wide grin my brother Mael launched the sword off the table towards me. I grabbed it in midair then spun to face the Grand Druid, who as he pulled me out somehow claimed the hidden dagger from my thigh. He then used it to stop my initial attack and pushed me back. I stumbled and parried, spinning as my sword ripped at his shirt sleeve, a minute amount of blood stained his shirt.
 
     Pleased I moved backwards, staring into his eyes. When he smiled his eyes softened which angered me. I frowned as my face flushed and my heart beat so loud I was sure he could hear.
 
     Stepping forward again; this time I grabbed the Grand Druid’s arm, pushing him towards the wall by using my right foot to the back of his knee.  I knocked him off balance.
 
     I heard a sound behind the Grand Druid. I spun past him without