~ The Castle Of Chadwick ~

by

Corine MacIntosh

Ernie and Charlie couldn’t believe all the people who stood before them, rejoicing at the sight of the elderly man whom they addressed as their King. They danced in colorful garments and drank from fine pewter and golden goblets encrusted with shimmering stones: from blood-red rubies, to forest-green emeralds and sapphires as blue as the night’s sky. Bagpipers played in delight as the people of Chadwick clamored for their king who had kept his promise to them. He had vowed that he would never die, thus never allowing his cruel, youngest son, Guthorn, to inherit the throne and rule all of Chadwick.

Happily they feasted on lamb, roasted pig and pheasant, and they drank from ornate goblets filled with sweet-tasting wine. There was mutton stew, and fresh salmon and trout on silver platters that were trimmed with freshly cut lemons. There were potatoes and cabbage, along with an assortment of breads and a variety of cheeses. Ernie and Charlie had never seen such a display of food. Jesters roamed the castle with laughter on their faces and glee in their eyes. Suits of shining armor lined one wall of the grand ballroom, and gypsies were scattered all about with their teacups, crystal balls and tarot cards in front of them as they whispered the future to their eager listeners.

Lord Charles grabbed the king and led him to the head of the table, to His Majesty’s chair, where he rightfully belonged.

Ernie remarked to Charlie, “Tell me you’re not seeing what I’m seeing... please.” He reached for his forehead.

“Ernie... I see ’em! Chadwick really does live!” Charlie’s voice raised an octave, amazed by the sight before him.

“Stop playing games with me, Charlie. I... I know I’m hallucinating from that blow I took on my head yesterday.”

“Ernie... I hate to tell you this, but when you were sleeping last night, I snuck into your room and read the book you’d brought down from the king’s chamber. You’re not hallucinating. You wear the ring!” Charlie exclaimed. “This is real! Another time! A different period when Chadwick once lived—all brought back to life because of you.”

Ernie felt his body tremble and once again he tried desperately to remove the golden ring from his finger. But it wouldn’t budge. “This can’t be happening to me,” he shrieked. “Why me?”

“The ring you have on your finger is the same ring the king wore the night the gypsy foretold his future. She warned the king to give his oldest son the ring to wear that night, because the rubies encrusted in the ring held the mystical powers to protect Mulvihill from death. Doom lurked all around. The gypsy sensed death, but the king never took the gypsy’s vision to heart. That’s when his younger son killed his brother. The people of Chadwick witnessed the gruesome death of their beloved Mulvihill, and they began to stone Guthorn. The king stopped ’em, vowing he would live forever so that Guthorn would never be king. To this very day, the king swears it was the gypsy who cursed him.”

Ernie swiped at the beads of perspiration on his forehead. “But why won’t the ring come off?” he asked uneasily. “I know it would end all my problems—if I could just take this stupid ring off my finger.”

Charlie’s eyes roamed the room and he whispered, “...cause the first male born with red hair in the Chadwick bloodline is the one who must kill the dragon. It’s too late. You put the ring on in the tower yesterday. The only way out for you is to kill the dragon, in order for the curse to be broken. Then, the old man can give the throne to his eldest son, Mulvihill, and the old King of Chadwick can go to his resting place, where he belongs.”

“Ohhh, great,” Ernie muttered grimly. How could he possibly be in another period in the sixteenth century? He swallowed the lump he felt building in his throat. “I feel sick to my stomach, Charlie. Like I’m gonna puke.”