This week’s image is from a trip to Bolsover Castle some years ago. Unfortunately, the only copy I can find of this picture was messaged to me recently by my wife when it came up in her ‘on this day’ gallery. The upshot is that its not the highest image quality thanks to the joys of instant messaging technology.
Regardless, we thoroughly enjoyed our wander around the castle, which contained many wonders beyond the above mildly threatening image. I have a double challenge for this prompt. Firstly, I find the picture strongly evocative of Piranesi, so I need to steer clear of that. (Don’t get me wrong. I like that book well enough. But even if I could emulate it here I, obviously, wouldn’t!) Secondly, I’m home-schooling my kids this week, so writing this is in a snatched window while I subject them to factorisation practice…
The lights flickered, but at least they existed. Oren’s task had been much worse before they were installed. Actually, the worst was while they were being installed. The workmen had used a portable flood-light rig to illuminate the area they were working. Even so, Oren had been sent ahead to clear the way. All the light in the world and yet they sent him in first with nothing but a candle and his wits. Well, those and a sprayer full of salt-water. Stepping out of the workmen’s ring of light into the inky darkness beyond had taken all his resolve.
It was better now. He could see the length of each hall. His task was to dispel the ghosts that haunted the warren of tunnels under the fortress before they built up. Incorporeal though they were, enough ghosts could overrun the castle. Oren was lucky to have the electric lamps, no matter how they flickered. It was easy for a mind, already on edge, to imagine fresh horrors in the unknown darkness. It could drive a man mad.
Oren’s predecessor had been missing for four months when Oren had been appointed to take over. The man’s body had never been found. Of course, it wasn’t impossible that he’d freaked out and ran away into the night. It wasn’t as if anyone checked on the Ghost Warden. Unsurprising, as anyone sane would be safe behind their salt-wards after sundown. Besides, ghosts didn’t accumulate that quickly. The castle had once done without a Ghost Warden for over a year.
A hint of movement captured Oren’s attention. The wispy trail of a spectre led into a side-chamber. Time to earn his comfortable living. Aside from the inherent danger of ghost dispersal Oren’s job was easy. He only needed to work one night per week, and even then there would only be three or four ghosts to disperse. In recompense, he was kept in luxury nearly as lavish as the king’s.
He followed the ghost as the lights dimmed again. He sprayed as they flickered back on. The spectre shredded in the salty cloud, as always in unsatisfying silence. As the light faltered once more, Oren spotted more movement.
Brightness flooded the chamber. Four ghosts burst from the shadows at the back of the room. Oren screamed and unleashed a barrage of spray. The lights blinked out again.
Brandon Lim 