Showing posts with label castle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label castle. Show all posts

Monday, April 29, 2019

Yeoman's Daughter


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The 26 eclectic-genre short stories for my #AtoZChallenge are excerpts from travelogue notes by
novel character Gahlen, who first appeared in SHARDS OF MEMORY – Oral History in a Heartbeat.

Each A-to-Z daily post is a complete, stand-alone tale.


Yeoman’s Daughter
Genre: Historical Romance
(386 words)

Katerina stared toward the aging castle looming over the Bohemian countryside. Its crumbling structure served as a backdrop to her life. Memories surfaced of her father’s return from the war, alive but crippled for life. Whether limbs or part of their minds were lost, most men who survived were left to struggle with farm life.
*
Her father, a yeoman, could no longer make simple decisions such as when to till the fields or how to plant and sow. He roamed the fields when left unattended. If he wandered into town, the feed mill owner escorted him home after shop closing. Sometimes the local priest walked him home and stayed for supper.
Katerina’s mother was a daughter of the yeoman who originally owned the farm. She had gradually stopped contending with the uncertainties of life and taken to her bed. If she spotted the priest strolling down the lane with her husband in tow, she barred her bedroom door.
“Evening Miss Kate,” Father Tam would say, doffing an imaginary hat. “Your father and I have been for a walk. We could both use a shot of brandy and a bowl of soup. If that is not too much bother.”
Katerina dutifully poured the brandy and heated the soup. Her poor father went along with Father Tam’s charade, never appearing to doubt that the priest spoke the absolute truth. Following the sparse meal, Katerina settled her father in a chair near the wood stove, wrapping a blanket tight around his legs.
Then she and Father Tam would step outside. With the abandoned castle at their back, they discussed her father’s condition, pointedly ignoring that her mother might be suffering with a different problem.
*
Katerina walked out to the lawn swing, adjusting her skirts to sit. As her gaze wandered up to the castle, a touch of melancholy filled her. The affair, as secret as it was forbidden, had lasted a year. She still blushed to think of how they inhaled the essence of each other’s souls and dreamed the intimacies of one another’s ambitions.
They never tarnished their love by consummating the relationship. When the parish choirmaster had recommended a transfer to a congregation in Prague for Father Tam, Katerina was devastated. But the week after the priest vacated their town, her mother left her bed.

*****

Friday, April 12, 2019

Lichtentanne Castle Apparition


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The 26 eclectic-genre short stories for my #AtoZChallenge are excerpts from travelogue notes by
novel character Gahlen, who first appeared in SHARDS OF MEMORY – Oral History in a Heartbeat.

Each A-to-Z daily post is a complete, stand-alone tale - partly true, partly fiction.



Lichtentanne Castle Apparition
Genre: Paranormal Reign
(362 words)

High-pitched voices attracted my attention. I glanced outside at the moat of Burg Schonfels Castle and spotted three school-aged girls skipping atop the wall. They played tag, the shortest girl chasing after the others. Through her eyes, I somehow gained the benefit of seeing a stunning view. The castle overlooked a sprawling Saxon countryside. A field of poppies offered a striking contrast to vibrant foliage and the river’s shimmering water.
As the girl glanced toward the village, I sensed the warnings her parents had issued about never entering the castle grounds. She recalled tales of sorrowful moans coming from within the castle on windy nights. Unease overtook me as she focused on a room directly above me.
Apparently, the most stressful moaning emanated from that room. Anyone within range described the vibrations as voice-like. Rampant town gossip followed any particularly active period.
The girl’s thoughts turned to folklore about a royal child drowning in the moat’s murky waters centuries earlier. Tales made mention of foul play for any number of suspicious reasons. Such thoughts excited the girl but terrified me.
Many placed blame for the drowning on the royal child’s claim to a jealous king’s throne; others believed the drowning occurred when the mute toddler grew unmanageable. A version that caused me and the girl to shiver involved the royal child’s deranged mother. No one knew what she might have done one sleepless night. Regardless the rumors, often disbelieved but never disproved, the moans continued.
The school girls raced faster along the moat’s wall. Then the slipper of the shortest girl caught the edge of a protruding stone. She fell, closing her eyes. The scene faded. Curious to know more, I squeezed my eyelids shut.
The girl reappeared with her eyes wide open. We stood in an unkempt, upper room of the castle. Frowning at me, she said, “You were told not to come up here.”
I ignored her reprimand. “How did the royal child die?”
“The child lived to be king.” She glanced toward a crib fitted with a rotting mattress. “A royal descendant is who suffered poorly the anticipation of such unrelenting burden.”
With that, her eyes closed for good.

*****