I’m a sucker for ruined buildings. Particularly old ruins. Especially old ruins in the woods. I stumbled upon this one a couple of years ago while camping in Glen Esk. It isn’t the tower that inspired Summer Sorcery, which is much closer to home. I have no idea of the history of this particular tower. For all I know, it could just be a folly — built deliberately to look like ruins of something older. Whatever the truth, it definitely seems like a place with a story to tell.
Calum propped his spear, and then his elbows against the parapet wall. Of all the rubbish assignments he’d been given this was probably the stupidest. What was the point of a three-storey watchtower in the woods? The battlements didn’t even rise above the trees. Now, as the nights grew longer and darker it was impossible to see anything more than a stone’s-throw from the walls.
Even his instructions had been stupid. A three-month residential duty here, watching only through the night. “For what?” he’d wondered aloud.
“For anything outwith normality,” his commander had replied. As if that explained anything.
Well, if he wanted better assignments he should probably hold his tongue. In fifteen years of military service he hadn’t yet met a commander who liked to be told they were being stupid. Even if it was true. Actually, especially then.
The wind picked up, snapping Calum’s cloak around his ankles far more sharply than the tattered, mud stained garment had any right to manage. He shivered and huddled into the thin fabric. Not that it helped much. His breath fogged in the air as the chill deepened. Not right for this time of year. Not right at all.
A sound reached his ears through the uncanny stillness of the woods. He strained to hear, then wished he hadn’t. Chanting. He couldn’t make out the words. Like water off a wax-cloth the sounds just wouldn’t stick.
Firelight flared in the dark of the forest, a long bowshot away to the west.
Calum’s hand trembled as he reached for his spear. He told himself it was just the cold. Why he would lie to himself was anyone’s guess.
The flickering firelight and the eerie voices drew closer. In a few minutes they would be upon him. In some ways that was a relief. He didn’t have to go out and investigate. A small mercy, but he’d take what he could get.
If you’d asked Calum that morning, he’d have told you he didn’t believe in witches and magic. Perhaps he’d been too quick to judge. Thinking back, there were any number of things that he might have assessed overly harshly. His commander’s wisdom, for example. If he’d shut his mouth and gone along with it, he wouldn’t be here now. Wouldn’t have to reconsider everything else. If only.
Laughter wove itself through the chanting. To Calum’s ear it didn’t sound like friendly laughter. His fingers tightened on his spear shaft and he drew himself straighter. Ready to meet whatever fate brought his way.
Brandon Lim 