|

An ancient castle on
Dartmoor has been sold to a rich rock ‘ roll star, but Percival the
incumbent owner, and in fact spirit of a former lord, thinks it’s going
to monks. The enraged spirit refuses to allow the property to fall into
disreputable hands.
Percival recounts the history of the castle to a young couple come to
renovate the castle. He relates how he came to be condemmed to roam its
halls by its original owner, his uncle Mandrake a fabled sorcerer and
some say, alchemist.
Mandrake steals Percivals love, Vivienne in order to beget children by
her - so his legacy of magic may carry on.. He pays Viviennes father,
the evil warlord Wolfram for his daughters hand. Greedy Wolfram, not
content with his bag of silver; tells Percival to betray his uncle
Mandrake and disclose the secret room of spells and alchemy so the
riches can support a great army to usurp the king, and in turn Percival
would be reunited with his lost love.
Reviews:
In the dim and distant past – magic, sorcery,
witchcraft and superstition vied with religion in an attempt to explain
the mysteries of the age. Those privy to the workings of such matters
kept their knowledge a closely guarded secret, for it could mean the
difference between life and death. Places intended for the indulgence of
such matters were selected for their relative isolation; quite often a
fortress or a castle such as the one that still stands
overlooking
a bleak moor. Always appearing a dark, brooding, forbidding place;
forever, it seemed, cloaked in a grey mist. Built upon a small tor
(hill) it had a commanding view of the grim vista below and beyond. It
dominated the scene for miles, like a malign blot on the landscape and
could be seen from at least three leagues away, if the weather ever
cleared.
It was rumoured to have a curse upon it. People
avoided it like a plague. Local villagers kept shy of it. Travellers
gave it wide berth as they passed. No animals grazed or foraged nearby
and no birds flew over it. Folklore has it that this sentinel was a
place of evil, a fortress of malevolence best left alone to crumble to
dust and take its black secrets with it.
No one had lived there for centuries. It was
believed the spawn of dark powers did reside within its walls. Bad luck
and worse befell anyone foolish enough to have dealings there.
Plunderers of its stones came to grief. They who would chance ransacking
its rooms either died or went mad. Although barren and deserted for
ages, on moonless nights it was reported that strange lights had been
seen emanating from within. No one in his right mind dared to
investigate. The castle’s eerie fables were too awe filling, too
frightening and too powerful to ignore.
One rain-soaked and Godless night, a luckless
old beggar had taken shelter there from a storm. He was found the
morning after rambling on the moors – mad delirious. He never regained
his sanity and died in an asylum. To the end of his days, he ranted
about the castle’s occupant; the spirit of its one time lord, an evil
man who dabbled in sorcery and abominations.
For his past sins, the lord had been cursed to
roam the castle for eternity until able to make atonement. Only then
would the powers that condemned him release him from his earth-bound
purgatory. Without human intervention, the spirit of the old lord was
unable to atone for his sins in life - therefore his tormented soul
still haunted the castle.
Bill Haworth's first attempt is
a fine piece of fiction. Robert and Faye travel to the 'Castle
On The Moor' to renovate it, only to find it already occupied.
This is where the story gets interesting as we find out what happened.
Can Robert and Faye help resolve what is wrong with the castle? Thank
You Mr. Haworth for sending We Really Dig Romance
Novels this book to review.
Castle on the
Moor is a delightful short tale with appealing characters and a
winning ending. A fine historical backdrop, whispers of sorcery,
alchemy, and black magic weaving in and out through the story, and a
keen ear for dialogue made Bill
Haworth’s tale an intriguing pleasure to read. There’s
sufficient plot twists to keep the three protagonists—Percival, Faye,
and Peter—literally revolving as they strive to keep abreast of events.
A surprisingly
intact castle is sold to an American band for a princely sum. The owner,
Percival, in misunderstanding thinks he has sold it to a religious
order. In short order he discovers he couldn’t have been more
inaccurate. The band seems determined to commit sacrilege instead, and
Percival uses his special abilities to make short shrift of them,
leaving his own status in limbo, and Peter and Faye-the interior
designers-very confused and in danger of losing their commission.
Good intentions
and everlasting love ride to the rescue, as the reader will discover. By
the end of the story, we’ve enjoyed empathizing with the lead
characters, scoffing at the fools who rush in, and booing the villains.
Castle on the Moor is
a comfortable curl-up-with book for a pleasant evening’s read.
Three ½ Swords
Frost@jlfoster.biz
Castle on the Moor is a short story by Bill
Haworth. A Brit retired from the army and accustomed to hard work
offshore in UK and Canadian waters, Mr. Haworth is a relative latecomer
to authorship. His full length novel “The
Ice Palace” was well
received later on, and Mr. Haworth is becoming a fixture in the eBook
market.
Castle on the Moor is an earlier work that speaks of the fight
for redemption even after death. As the story unfolds, the reader is
transported to a lovely old castle that should be decrepit for its age.
A young American couple is hired to restore the castle to its former
glory for their employers, a rather loud, modern day rap group.
As
they arrive, they find a castle in the best of repair and a somewhat
old-fashioned host. Their host is old fashioned indeed, being a direct
relative of the castle’s original master builder. The story unfolds and
the couple finds themselves embroiled in a quest to help good triumph
over evil and folly, and a curse that requires fulfilment before a tired
spectre may escape his punishment.
Castle on the Moor is a beautifully written story that makes for
a quick read. Because of the rich descriptive language used, I am
tempted to crown Mr. Haworth king of the adjective; it is virtually
impossible not to form a solid picture of the landscape he has in his
mind. It is this gift that makes him a master storyteller and his work a
joy to read.
By Sylvia Cochran |