katy c
2008-12-29 13:23:35 UTC
A long time ago, not long after Gadlow castle was first built; strange things began to happen in the castle and the nearby village. The horses in the castle stables were found soaked in sweat every morning, as though they’d been ridden at a gallop all night. Then one morning the horses were found dead. All of them, from the Lord’s warhorse, to his youngest daughters pony.
A week later the castles herd of cattle disappeared. Some tried to argue that they’d been stolen, or wandered away. However, it had been raining the day before and the ground was still muddy. In the middle of the village common the earth had been churned up in a huge circle, like a giant muddy whirlpool, spiralling into the ground for many feet. The young man whose job it was to watch them confessed that he’d heard them running in the night, but had thought they had been spooked by something and left them to it. He was punished for his inattention. Many of the villagers began to mutter that the cows had dug themselves into the earth. Perhaps to escape whatever had been troubling the horses. Perhaps a witch.
They seemed to be proved right when the water in the castle well turned to blood and a child fetching water for her mother brought a cow’s skull up with the bucket.
Suspicion soon fell on Widow Baker, a hunch backed old woman living with her granddaughter on the edge of the village. They seemed very poor, living in a small cottage with barely any livestock to speak of, only an ancient cow, tiny hen and scrawny cat. Their strips of farmland were almost barren and poorly tended, and the other villagers often wondered how they lived. They rarely mixed with the other villagers, making only occasional trips to the market and buying only the smallest possible amounts of food.
Lord Gadlow listened to the accusations against Widow Baker and decided she was guilty. One night his soldiers went to the cottage and took her to the castle. She was tried and sentenced to be burned at the stake.
The next evening, as the sun was setting and the flames started to burn her ankles, her granddaughter appeared in the castle courtyard. No one had seen her arrive. Standing in front of the fire, she cursed the Gadlow family, declaring that in every generation, the heir to the castle would die in childhood. At her final word, the ground cracked underneath her feet and she and her grandmother disappeared. Some claimed they flew away together. Others that they fell into the ground. Whatever happened, the curse showed its effects quickly. The Lords eldest son, a boy of sixteen, was killed by falling masonry as the castle cracked apart around them. The tower shattered, becoming the blackened hunk of stone it is today.
After the castle was ruined, the family moved away, to another of Lord Gadlows castles in a far away part of the country. But the curse followed them everywhere and the family fell from being one of the most important and wealthy in the kingdom, to being of no consequence.