Start the Story - Wynnstay

This is the opening of a novel in development. Now its up to you! Write the next Chapter - take this story where you think it should go. See the guidelines for submissions and feel free to contact me with any questions or comments.

WYNNSTAY
We were looking forward to visiting this old, empty house, Wynnstay, as urged by the local Tourist Board. The driveway to the house was long and winding and periodically we noticed building supplies lying on the edge of the grass, waiting to be used. As the main house came into view we obviously expected to see signs of new construction or alterations, but there was nothing. This house looked very much the grand country home. We knew it had been empty for years, but it still looked preserved enough that you could expect someone to come or go through the magnificent front door at any time.

We parked the car and admired the gently rolling countryside that lay beneath the house on three sides. It was quite breathtakingly beautiful and peaceful. My husband wanted to go off on his own to photograph the house, so I set out to walk down to a small lake I had seen towards the perimeter of the grounds.

As I approached the lake, I stopped dead in my tracks. Seated by the side of this small, cheerless lake, was a lady in a cloak with long black hair partially covered by a hood. Her mode of dress was straight out of medieval times! I stared and blinked my eyes hard to ensure that this was reality and not just my imagination and in return I felt a mixture of fear and anxiety seeping through me. I forced myself to go a step closer to have one more look.

Slowly, I relaxed a little. Of course, this must be one of a troupe of actors who visit historical sites to bring various legends alive. I had seen them not long ago at Ruthin Castle all dressed in Elizabethan attire. This medieval maiden before me was an actor and I was quite excited about the possibility of talking to her and quickened my pace, only to feel uneasy again as I drew closer and the roots of my hair began to tingle. There was absolutely no movement of her clothes or long hair and yet there were very strong gusts of wind which had been tugging at my hood. Furthermore, it was cold and her clothing appeared to be smooth and flimsy with no protection against the wind. It remained softly draped around her and there was not a hair on her head out of place.

I forced myself to go on but with one more step towards the lake she had gone – disappeared! There was just the lake, the lifeless trees of winter rocking in the wind, the sun and the shadow of clouds rushing through the sky. There was no sign of another human being. Clearly, it was all in my imagination, although I was far from convinced.

Disturbed, with butterflies in my stomach, I walked quickly back up the hill, anxious to put as much distance as possible between myself and the lake. I tried to pull myself together before rejoining my husband, as I stood outside the main entrance of this solid, but deserted great house. A house built for prestige, opulent living perhaps, and the enjoyment of family and friends, values so important 150 years ago. It was built on the top of a hill against a spectacular background of Welsh hills and valleys with no protection from the elements.

I took a final look out across the valley to the opposite hillside. There, in the distance was Castle Chirk. It seemed odd, odd that these two buildings faced each other, as the crow flies, and it almost appeared that Wynnstay had been erected as a challenge to the supremacy of the huge medieval fortress that is Chirk, built around 700 years before the empty shell behind me. Thinking about Wynnstay and Chirk I suddenly remembered the slim figure in the long flowing medieval robes I had seen down by the lake!








©2008 Susan Lancaster.
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