Welcome to The Spot Writers. The prompt for this month is to write a story involving a mirror. This week’s contribution comes from the pen of Phil Yeats.
In April 2024, Phil
published The Body on Karli’s Beach, the third book in his Barrettsport
Mysteries, a series of soft-boiled mysteries set in a fictional South
Shore, Nova Scotia town. For information about these books and The Road
to Environmental Armageddon, his trilogy about the hazards of ignoring human-induced
climate change, visit his website: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com/.
He published his latest book, a novella titled Starting Over Again: A
Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy, earlier in 2025.
Celestina
by Phil Yeats
Lord Elric stared into
the still waters of the lake by which they camped. He saw not his
battle-scarred reflection but that of Lexicas, the wizard.
“I salute your mission
to slay the traitor Saurus and rescue the fair Celestina and her two handmaids,
but beware, trouble awaits inside your castle. Hob has overrun the defenders
you left behind,” Lexicas said before his image disappeared. It was replaced by
Elric’s.
Celestina crept
forward and took Elric’s hand. “Your furrowed brows and the fire in your eyes
suggest something’s amiss, but you have a plan.”
“Yes, we must make
haste to the castle. We leave immediately.”
That evening, they
camped again two hours’ march from Lord Elric’s castle. He was staring into the
diminishing evening light when Celestina approached from beside their campfire.
“I wish I could have warned you. My stepbrother Hob is not trustworthy. He’s
hated me for as long as I can remember. Hob and my father paid Saurus to kidnap
me, knowing you’d come to my rescue.”
Lord Elric snorted.
“And how were you to warn me?” He placed his arm around her slender shoulders.
“But all is not lost. Their treachery is now revealed. Hob’s a worm. By
tomorrow night, we’ll have him baited and hooked to trap the real villain. Lord
Ranulf. He has no supporters at the king’s court. Ranulf will be exposed as a
compatriot of the traitor Saurus. The king will banish him and Hob from the
kingdom. They’ll both rot in France.”
“And what will become
of his fiefdom?”
A smile softened the
harsh lines of scars on Elric’s face. “Surely you know your mother was the
king’s cousin, taken and married by Ranulf. Then, when you were but two years
old, your mother died under mysterious circumstances. In those days, Ranulf had
powerful allies at court, and the king was weaker than he is now. Now the king
is strong, and Ranulf’s allies have abandoned him. His fiefdom will be the king’s
gift to you when you marry a suitable husband.”
“Like you, my good
Lord Elric, we’ll join our two fiefdoms together to make a truly powerful
Lordly domain.”
“Yes, my love, that is
the plan, but we must play our cards carefully.”
Lord Elric’s advance
party departed three hours before dawn. Their plan. Gain access to the castle through
the escape tunnel built for escaping priests during the religious crises from
decades earlier. With luck, they could take Hob’s pack of vermin, unfamiliar
with the castle’s secrets, by surprise. Then, when their main force arrived
outside the gates at dawn, they could lower the drawbridge and mop up any
vermin lurking in the shadows.
Lexicas met them
outside the root cellar that hid the entry to the priests’ secret access and
led them single file through the narrow, low passage. They reached a thick
door, and Lexicas inserted a key in the lock before turning to Elric. “You
should wait here, sire, while I check that the passage is clear. I’ll signal you
if all’s clear.”
A high-pitched whistle
signalled the all-clear, and Elric, with his archers and swordsmen right behind
him, surged into the passage. “The dungeon?” he asked Lexicas. “Does it contain
my loyal defenders, or did Hob’s vermin kill them all?”
“Killed some, but most
are in the cells. I dosed the wine Hob’s guards consumed last evening with sleeping
potion. They should offer no resistance.”
“And Hob and his
henchmen?”
“In your quarters and
the adjacent guest rooms, also sleeping off the wine.”
Elric deployed three
of his strongest swordsmen to subdue the dungeon guards and free the prisoner,
deployed the archers to pick off the defenders on the ramparts when dawn broke,
and led their remaining swordsmen to his quarters.
Outside Elric’s door,
they encountered two sleepy guards who offered little resistance, and inside they
found Hob asleep. Elric raised his sword, preparing for a downward two-handed
blow. Lexicas stepped in front of him.
“Wait, my lord.
Killing him in his sleep would be murder. He’s more valuable alive as a
hostage. Put him in a cell and clear out the rest of his compatriots.”
Elric nodded and
stomped from the room, leaving Lexicas to deal with the captives. He’d hated
Hob and Ilbert, his father, since they used guile, and some false promises,
when the king found himself with a losing hand after an insurrection in France.
Outside, Elric
exhorted his archers to attack the defenders on the ramparts as soon as the
early morning light was adequate. They’d have the initial advantage, being
inside when the defenders expected an attack from the outside. Lexicas
dispatched his swordsmen, and those liberated from the cells, to attack the
castle’s defenders in their barracks. Elric led the attack on the gatehouse,
the prize they must win. With luck, the battle would be over before Celestina
and his remaining fighters arrived outside the gates.
Elric with four
swordsmen and six loyal serfs armed with battle clubs and daggers, for the
noise from the attacks on the defenders on the ramparts to draw the defenders
in the gatehouse from their lair. When the battle for the ramparts began, they
surprised the first four defenders and cut them down without trouble. Several
others retreated into the guardhouse, but couldn’t bar the door before Elric’s men
were upon them. They were seriously outnumbered and laid down their weapons
without a fight, leaving Elric in control of the gatehouse.
The sun was high in
the sky when Elric and his trusty warriors flushed the last of Hob’s invaders
from their holes. Some died fighting, others surrendered and joined their
compatriots in the crowded cells.
Elric retired to his
rooms relieved in the understanding he’d survived his first challenge since his
father died. He’d left too few fighters to defend the castle, but they’d been
able to take the invaders by surprise and win the day.
He could now doff his
fighting clothes and don more ceremonial attire in preparation for a feast to honour
his loyal knights and welcome the fair Celestina to his castle. He gazed into
the looking glass, ran his finger down the most prominent of his battle scars
and wondered if she could ever truly love anyone so ugly.
The Spot Writers:
Val Muller:
http://www.valmuller.com/blog/
Catherine A.
MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/
Phil Yeats:
https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com/
Chiara De Giorgi:
https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/
