Writer of Fantasy. Wielder of Red Pens.

A Tethered Ring

It’s week three of the More Odds Than Ends writing prompt challenge! This week, my task was from Leigh Kimmel: “Strange visit to a place at night—moonlight—castle of great magnificence etc. Daylight shews either abandonment or unrecognisable ruins—perhaps of vast antiquity.”

Savannah tipped back the last of the bottle of strawberry wine, her throat working as she balanced it above her lips. The combination of sweetness and bubbles made her lips tingle. She set the empty flask down at her feet and shoved the cork back in the neck.

“This makes it worth it,” she proclaimed triumphantly, waving her free hand in the air. Unbalanced, she kicked the bottle toward the fire and hastily reached down to grab it before it could roll into the flames.

“Primitive camping,” Savannah said with a snort. “How you talked me into this when we’re not even supposed…oh.”

Kaylee was sleeping peacefully in her camp chair, she saw, her friend’s own bottle of dandelion wine hugged in her arms like a glass teddy bear.

“Hmph,” she said to the glowing embers, and glanced around. There was plenty of dead wood in the copse of oak and plane trees, but she wasn’t sure adding more was a good idea with how much wine she’d had.

The grove was a perfect circle, with enough room for the tent she and Kaylee shared and safe enough for the small and merry fire. Its only opening showed the ruins they’d trekked all this way to see. They’d positioned their chairs toward the view.

Yawning, she blinked at the crumbled castle in front of her. Moonlight streamed down from a pitted, full globe. Only a few walls remained, with an arched entrance that led only to untidy piles of mossy rocks. A ruined tower loomed above, dark and silent, watchful.

Savannah knew the other side was obliterated to time and artillery, crushed in some battle Kaylee would know. From this angle, perfect castellation allowed anachronistic lies. She could nearly see the watchman at his post, and smiled at her brief whimsy.

“Good day to ye, mistress,” a voice said.

Savannah looked up, blinking at unexpected daylight. A haze of purple and gold streaked the sky. It looked like sundown, but she couldn’t believe she’d have slept that long, wine or no.

“Hello,” she said cautiously.

A woman stepped into the clearing, wicker basket filled with greens and mushrooms on her arm. Her long brown hair was pinned up and covered, and her long yellow dress was covered with a green tunic and belted simply around the waist.

“Are you headed to the keep? I’d be pleased for company on the walk,” the stranger said. “I am Isabella.”

Savannah looked around, her head still muddled. Kaylee was gone, as was their tent. Her comfortable chair had turned into a tree stump.

“The – the keep?” She felt her teeth begin to chatter as her jaw twitched.

The other woman looked at her with concern in her whiskey-colored eyes. “Aye, mistress. Atop the hill, of course. Dark be coming. They’ll close the gates soon. Market continues after, of course.”

Savannah’s gaze sped to the ruins. The castle shone, bright white and grey rock against the sun-streaked sky. A horse pulled a cart up a dirt path leading toward the keep, while children chased after a stray chicken and encouraged sheep through an archway filled with a bustling crowd. Manure and woodsmoke scented the air.

On the tower parapet, a guard holding a glaive leaned lazily against the castellated stone. Another paced by behind him, looking out toward the river by the way he moved.

“Mistress? Are ye well?” Isabella took a few steps toward her.

Savannah stared at the ground and thus had an excellent view of Isabella’s leather turnshoes, clearly handmade and wrapped round with leather straps.

The clearing spun around her, the perfect circle spinning into an emerald blur.

“Mistress?”

1 Comment

  1. Becky Jones

    Very well done! The description of the castle in both the dark and daylight is fantastic. I can picture it. This is a very good warning against dandelion wine and fairy circles, never mind the combination!

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