Short story 6. Gingerbread cookies

Short story #6. Gingerbread cookies.

Once upon a time there was an old castle with three tall towers, standing between the dark forest and Ilskol village. One powerful count of the noble kin lived there during many years. He was the rare guest in the village, spending most time of the day in his spacious halls, but sometimes he was watching the sunset out of the window, so that people could see the count’s refined profile. Sir Archir did not give his money for the needs of poor locals as he never demanded any taxes. Nevertheless, the main human’ features are curiosity, suspicion and superstition. For long years the villagers were blaming Gordon Archir for his unsociability and secret way of life; then they decided to keep an eye on the castle. Soon the locals noticed that every full moon the count left his dwelling on horseback and rode towards the forest thicket. People were frightened, because those times everything that was connected with the Moon, the darkness and the mystery, was interpreted as Devil’s games, and since then Sir Archir became the symbol of the seven death sins.

It was very difficult for people to track the count’s midnight rout, but the villagers usually only seemed to be kind and silly. Many of them could be slick as a fox and nimble as a rat, that’s why a group of the most courageous locals once saw what Gordon Archir was doing on the other side of the forest. In the place, where the trees changed to the river bank, there was a sharp cape opposite Nitton town. Sir Archir rode to the very edge of this cape and began to whistle loudly. Immediately, a dozen of ghost men appeared on the water surface, creating terrible whirlpools and high angry waves moving towards Nitton. All the boats and even several houses were swept away by the storm, the fish were killed or swam to another town, fishermen’ fishnets were torn and the large ugly nightmares were flying among the sleeping citizens of Nitton. In several minutes the sudden storm came to its end – the river again was calm and quiet and there were no ghosts in the fresh night air. Sir Archir turned round and rode across the dark forest back to his castle. What is more, nearby the cape the villagers noticed a strange single grave where was written “Love of my life”. Every time on his way to the river, Gordon Archir put the beautiful white flowers, growing in the forest thicket, to this tombstone. Sir Archir’s midnight activity was enough for the locals to accuse him of witchcraft and sentence him to the public burning. Only one man who was old and almost blind yet, tried to propitiate his too strict neighbors and told them one story, explaining the reasons of Gordon Archir’s deeds.

“About hundred years ago, there was no forest behind the village and the river was not so wide and rapid” he began the narration. “One large and flourishing town lay on its banks and the life in this place seemed to be sweeter than the honey. Gordon Archir was the wise and just ruler, who cared about the citizens of the town, like many of his ancestors. But one Cristmas Eve a young and beautiful woman came to this Paradise corner – she did not have any luggage or money with her, and she was wearing only the long white dress and the leaky cloak. The locals met her hostilely, because ordinary people, who had the heaviness of sins on their shoulders, usually tried to eliminate such a nice girl with the appearance of angel…”

“It was a hundred years ago as you had said” one of the listeners suddenly interrupted the narrator “How could you know all the details?”

“You can trust me” the old man answered quietly “It is easy for me to describe this woman, because it is my mother. Many years ago she came to the nearby village to buy some food for supper, but she did not come home that evening. Soon two swindlers were caught unexpectedly, who admitted, that they had robbed the woman passing-by, knotted her eyes and left her in the unknown place. My father spent a lot of time searching for his wife, but there were no traces”.

“And how did she find the way to Nitton town?” one of the locals asked, interrupting the old man again.

“I don’t know exactly, because there was no chance for me to speak with my mother after this accident. Probably, she saw the road and decided that the best option was to come to any village and ask for help. Nethertheless, she found out in Nitton, where Gordon Archir, whose heart was lonely and unhappy due to his parents’ early death, sheltered the girl. He gave her everything she needed – food, clothes, cozy rooms, the warmth and the sincere care. The young woman did not remember her name and the previous place of living, but the castle of Sir Archir soon became her home, and Gordon often called her “Love of my life”…”

“Oh, we have seen the same inscription on the grave near the river” the young curious man exclaimed “What’s happened? Why she is dead now?”

“It was a sad story” the narrator sighed “My mother was very kind and responsive woman, but she had the strange gift – since childhood she heard strange voices saying different words and sometimes she had the visions. People of Nitton did not love this woman, and her supernatural abilities frightened them. So, when Sir Archir left the town for the business for some hours, the locals invaded into the castle, killed the innocent girl and burnt everything inside the building… The count was depressed and angry after his return to Nitton. He cursed all the citizens and promised them the most awful climate disasters, and then he rode out of the town towards the opposite bank of the river. Behind Gordon Archir’s back the bridge fell down into the water and the river became much wider and looked like the sea. Sir Archir buried the woman on the other side of the river, nearby the water. After that he took out a small bag with tasty gingerbread cookies, which the girl had baked before he left the town. Gordon Archir ate one and swore to love her forever and to revenge for her undeserved death. The scraps of the cookies he threw on the ground around him, and suddenly the dark and thick forest appeared at the same place, hiding the sunset…”

“I am sure that this story is just the fruit of someone’s imagination” one of the locals concluded “But what was after? Why he lives in our village now?”

“My father lived here, and ironically, this place was the first on Sir Archir’s aimless way – he was just riding across the forest, until he saw the unknown houses. There he firstly heard about the lost of my mother and understood that “Love of his life” unfortunately had been married. Gordon Archir found my father and told him the unhappy story feeling sorry for loving another man’s wife. Soon they became friends – mostly, the common grief made them support each other. Sir Archir settled in the desolate castle not far from Ilskon village and my father was the frequent guest in this home… When my father died, Gordon Archir closed all the doors in his house and became the freewill hermit of his own constant sorrow. I hope now you understand that this count is just the one unhappy man with the hard destiny. Please, do not try to kill him – Sir Archir has the important reason for his deeds”.

“Well, we will discuss your advice and this information during the general meeting but now I think we’d better go to bed” the elder of Ilskon told and exclaimed suddenly “Listen! There are someone’s loud voices outside the house! What’s the matter?”

All the people in the house came out and saw the fantastic sight: Gordon Archir was standing at the top of the great fire, but the flame did not do him any damage.

“Burn him! Burn him!” the crowd standing around the fire shouted “Burn the warlock!”

“People of Ilskon” the old man said loudly “Please, do not judge this man on your own. Only the God has the rights to punish or to spare anyone of us…”

“It is not your duty” the leader of the group answered rudely “Gordon Archir is convicted by our court for his dark deeds”.

“But he is a good man and he did nothing wrong with the citizens of Ilskol” the old man went on “All of us have been silly and blind, blaming him. Sir Archir has the personal reasons for…”

“Quiet!” the opponent shouted “Stop talking or you will make the company for Gordon Archir. People of Ilskol, go on! Burn him!”

“His death will be on your dirty conscience” the old man whispered, stepping aside.

Angry people were ready to burn the count, when suddenly a young woman in white clothes appeared in the crowd. People in fear parted and she slowly came to the fire, where Sir Archir was standing.

“You are here, my love,” he smiled like never before “Finally! I have been waiting for you for so long. I’m so tired now”.

“Don’t worry, my dear Gordon” she said “You has made enough to the Earth full of sins. You have struggled too much in your long life. I’ll take you with me and show you the paradise places, where only happiness and joy live”.

“I’ll follow you with the greatest pleasure, my love,” he answered, descending to the woman and kissing her.

In total silence they flow above the crowd and faded into the night. After that the dark forest disappeared, leaving only the puffs of dust as a memory of it. The river became narrow and swept away all the locals, who had the desire to kill Gordon Archir. Finally, the new bridge looking like the previous one, shined in the rays of bright Moon. Surprised people crossed themselves just in case and went to bed in a hurry, because that night they didn’t understand what had been real and what – just the illusion. Since than Nitton and Ilskon united again and only kind people without any dark thoughts lived there. Locals in Ilskon cooked the food forged the tools and heated the houses, because it was painful for people of Ilskon to see the fire. But Ilskon villagers became the best fishermen in the region, while people of Nitton tried not to approach close to the river. Soon Ilston – it was the new name for the two town-neighbors – was thought the most peaceful and righteous place, where were no executions, but even the honest work and Christian faith.