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God, I’m in love with this castle! I have a feeling that everything here is sort of mine. How can one love castles so much? I don’t understand myself.
As for the castle, it is square with four towers. Between the two front towers is the main entrance to the castle. Next comes the courtyard. The tower on the left is allegedly closed; the tower on the right is rebuilt. Here, it seems, the count was not lying because the staircase did not go into the tower but went up and led to the floors on the left. The tower to the left and furthest from the entrance, the third tower, was the oldest according to the owners. There was a room of a mysterious priest which was the first room we examined. The far tower on the right was walled up; there was not even a hint of an entrance.
However, this is a magical place. When I found myself here, I began to breathe deeply! I felt so energetically strong, as if I had been plugged into an outlet. My fears have vanished. I wasn’t a sleepwalker that night. I’m something stronger than I was before… but what am I?
Anton’s diary
11.09.2016
The count led us through the courtyard to tower number two, which was already, in fact, almost not a tower. On the ground floor there was a 19th-century living room with a grand piano and family portraits of that era. The count said that their not-so-distant 11th great-grandmother played music here. Everything was wood; the windows were large and let in a lot of light. There was not a hint of Gothic style, except for the old sideboards which had been preserved since the 15th century. They were an example of early Gothic: black with carved figures of people and animals. They were also locked.
In the middle there was a sofa and several armchairs around a beautiful, large tea table of the 19th century. Apparently, they gathered here in the evenings in a family circle, drank tea, played the piano, and discussed the latest news.
According to the count, there was nothing else interesting in the house, no expositions. He repeated this lie over and over again with sparkling eyes. He also rubbed his hands as if he was washing them.
Then we went with the count to the living room and the dining room where breakfast was served to tourists. As the count explained, these rooms were decorated in an authentic style, but were not antique.
After the tour, we went to see the surroundings and visited the Breze Castle, a magnificent monument of antiquity also built in the form of a square. As in Dupré, there were some ancient parts and parts that were completely rebuilt by descendants. Yet there was something mystically ancient in these places. We didn’t have time to go anywhere else. We decided to go back and have a rest… which, translated from my wife’s language, meant “poking one’s nose into other people’s business” and “continuing to examine someone else’s property.”
The weather is great. It is much warmer in France than in Russia in September. I sincerely admired the weather. We wore thin windbreakers and jeans, and we were hot.
“Let’s go back to the castle. We won’t have time to see anything else anyway; all the castles are closed,” my wife said slyly.
“I think I know why you want to go back,” I laughed.
“Stop it!” Nora laughed back. “Well, yes, I want to wander a bit around the castle without the count’s annoying gaze. It’s so interesting. My God, is there a walled-up room there?”
Moreover, from my wife’s point of view – childishly naïve – it was clear that she had already come up with what might be there.
“Yes,” I responded. I couldn’t help laughing. “The count shouldn’t have said that to you. By the way, did you notice how the countess looked at you when we arrived the first time?
“Well, she’s a little skewed. Do you think it’s weird?”
Nora clearly hadn’t paid attention to it, but she was a dreamer by nature and as such didn’t pay attention to such things.
“Yes. Why such a reaction all of a sudden?” I began to think out loud.
“Maybe because we are Russian?” Nora laughed.
I didn’t tell her what I’d heard. In the end, it really might mean nothing.
“Another thing seemed strange to me,” Nora began again. “Why were so many rooms closed?”
“Either tons of gold or slaves from China… maybe a pet cemetery?” I offered.
I liked to tease her.
“You idiot!” Nora laughed out loud. Don’t talk nonsense. I feel there is something there.”
Returning to the castle, we saw that the owners sat in the new kitchen in the left wing of the castle, located next to the first tower. One of the wonderful things about such large structures is that we could walk around the whole castle, and the owners would not see us.
We left our things in our room and took a flashlight. After all, there was no electricity in the towers. I must say it was quite light outside! It was only 6:20 p.m,, but there was enough time before it got dark. However, we knew the towers might be blocked, given the count’s story.
“Where do we start?” I asked my wife.
I thought to myself that her haircut was not so bad and that she was the most beautiful woman in the world. I won’t get tired repeating it.
“We’ll start our journey from tower number four, a good number… and the owners will be far away.” “Yes, but it’s walled up,” I pointed out.
“I don’t think so. If so, why did they leave a door? It would have been blocked, too,” Nora said.
“Come on, Boss!” I decided not to argue.
Through the courtyard we headed toward the 19
-century living room. There we turned left and walked along the corridor. We passed the medieval-style dining room. Then we went into the kitchen. There everything was blocked with a wall.
“I told you so! It’s all nonsense. Everything is closed.”
The plan to reveal the secret of the millennium was falling apart.
“Damn it! There must be some kind of entrance. There just has to be!”
My wife was very upset, and I frankly did not understand why all this bothered her so much.
“Why are you so sure of that?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I have a strange feeling. It’s like I’ve been here before. I just know there’s something important in there.” Then in a half-whisper, Nora asked, “Do you think I’m crazy?” “I think you’re a dreamer,” I responded as I smiled back.
“Let’s go around by the street,” ordered my wife and cheerfully headed for the goal.
We went through the courtyard to the open floor under the chapel. The floor was great: it still had ancient castle tile, black and white, like in the movies about medieval knights.
We went inside. If you looked to the left, there was something like a shed where shovels and other gardening supplies were stored. There were also some hunting trophies on the floor. On the right was the beginning of the fourth tower. And there was a heavy, faded tapestry hanging on it.
Nora decided to check for a door behind the tapestry. She pushed it away, but there was a wall there, covered with dust. A minute later she stepped out away from the tapestry, cleaning dust off herself. Suddenly we noticed the owners coming out of the kitchen and heading into the yard.
“Hide! Quickly!” Nora whispered as she grabbed my hand.
We backed up behind the tower so that the owners could not see us. It was fun just like when I was a kid.
While we hid, we saw an open passage to the balcony. It’s not even a balcony; it’s more like a platform or terrace from which in the old days, apparently, there was a view of the moat.
As soon as the Duprés went outside, we slipped onto the terrace. What a picturesque view! It’s a pity the count didn’t bring us here… of course, it wasn’t safe because the balcony was low, and one could easily fall into the moat; but what a lively, historical panorama that opened in front of us! The old walls were partly covered with moss, apparently because it was wet there. We also saw caves in the moat below. It was quite strange as there should have been water in the moat. If you looked at the castle itself, it seemed majestic and huge.
“Look, Anton!” My wife pointed to the right. “An entrance! And a passage around the tower!”
“Indeed, it looks like a passage for gunsmiths. I think they defended the castle from here in case of a siege. Let’s go and see.”
We walked along a narrow corridor that led around the tower. I followed my wife.
“The door! Anton, here it is!” Nora smiled now. “But what is that?” she suddenly said.
A pentagram was carved on the massive door… not a very pleasant start.
“Latin inscriptions… God, why is that?” Nora whispered.
“A spell for tourists?” I tried to joke. Then I added, “My dear, I don’t like it.”
My wife did not pay attention to my warning and pulled the door by the massive handle. The door swayed but didn’t open. Obviously, it was securely locked. The owners did not want anyone to go in there.
“We have to open it,” Nora said firmly.
“You’re crazy! They will definitely find us!”
To be honest, I was not thrilled with the idea of making problems abroad instead of quietly enjoying my vacation. “Please, please, let’s come up with something!” My wife did not give up.
“Okay ….”
Then I remembered about the utility room. I went there to look for some tools. I found a bolt cutter, and five minutes later I was hacking into someone else’s property. After all, marriage is a dangerous thing. I have been warned more than once.
Soon I opened the door to the tower. It was dark from the threshold.
“Where’s the flashlight? Let’s go!”
My wife turned it on and cheerfully stepped inside.
“Maybe you shouldn’t…” I tried for the last time to make a call for common sense.
“This is a real adventure!” Nora exclaimed and smiled brightly again. “Come on!”
There was nothing I could do. A wife’s smile is more important than problems with the law.
Beyond the door was a spiral staircase leading up, just as in the third tower… and there were no catastrophic traces of destruction here. I must pay tribute to my wife: she was right.
The count lied to us… but why?
Chapter 5 Disappeared Children
Fortune rota volvitur; Descendo minoratus;
The Wheel of Fortune is turning I find myself at the bottom.
~Vagants’ poems about fate
Nora’s diary
11.09.2016
The count is definitely lying! It’s all weird, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it. I feel like I should.
This tower has left an indelible mark on my memory. I’ve never seen anything more heart-wrenching. We started walking up to the first room. There was a massive, carved, wooden door… however, a little worn out. Near it hung rosary beads on the wall. I wonder why.
We opened the heavy door and saw something incredible: the room did not look destroyed at all but rather neglected; and there was a feeling as if its owner had left for a while and would soon return. A huge bed sat against the wall to the right. There was a large fireplace. Everything was the same as in the other tower, but everything here was well preserved! There was a desk next to the window and an old bookcase along the wall to the left. A chest stood on either side of a table. A tapestry depicting hunting scenes hung on the wall near the bed. Everything was very dusty and dirty, but there was no doubt about the authenticity of these things.
I immediately rummaged through the papers lying on the table. The layer of dust was disgusting. I looked for something that would explain the puzzle.
“My God! Why aren’t they taking care of all this? It’s of historical value!” I almost shouted because I was excited by everything I saw and genuinely annoyed at the same time. I strongly love and respect antiquities. Gothic has always been my passion in all its manifestations: interior, clothing, and architecture.
“You’ve heard yourself that for them this is just a museum in the forest that they want to get rid of,” Anton replied.
“Look! These are letters.” I tried to read at least one of them. “I can hardly make out anything. They are all written in old French. It says here: ‘Summer castle… trip… Father was out hunting ….’ Oh, it’s hard to make out. The signature is Francis de L*, and the date is on it.”
“Awesome! Is the letter 15th century?” Anton shouted.
Letters dated 1426 impressed us. It was also impressive that their owners so carelessly left them to the rats. I concluded that Francis was the son of the same Duchess Louise, the 11th great-grandmother of the count, judging by the dates on the letters.
“Yes! And they didn’t even want to let us in here. It’s crazy!”
I looked up.
“What’s in the closet?” I quizzed.
We easily opened the old closet, which was full of men’s suits, eaten by rats. There were also a lot of men’s medieval doublets hanging there. They were something like a man’s sweater, only made of heavy velvet and sewn from multicolored fabrics, some decorated with stones or beads. I have read a lot about the Middle Ages, and I know that during that time “tear out the eye” outfits were in fashion according to the color scheme. Colorful fabrics were embroidered with beads. It symbolized a love for life.
There was a medieval library, as well. I opened the doors; one door almost fell off, but I managed to grab it. There were medieval books in Latin mostly. There were poems and more poems which were terribly interesting. It would take years to read all of them.
“God, can you imagine their value? And they keep it all in such condition! After all, the fireplace has not been fired up here for 500 years! Although… maybe we don’t know everything.” I took it all to heart. “I don’t understand… why have not the rooms of the 15th century changed for so many years? Did none of the descendants occupy these rooms? It looks as if everything has been left here from that time. And in general, there are a lot of incomprehensible things here. It begins to alarm me.”
Anton was right: there is some kind of mystery.
“I agree there is something incomprehensible here, Anton remarked. “However, the count will refuse to discuss it, I understand. Let’s move on! It’s all incredible! It’s like I’ve been to the Middle Ages.”
I hadn’t thought that my dream would come true. It was wonderful; but at the same time, I felt anxiety and suspicion.
“You are the only woman I know who enjoys digging through dusty, old things,” Anton commented.
My husband does not share my ardent love for the old things.
We went out onto the spiral staircase. I stopped, turned around, and kissed my spouse for I was grateful for such an unforgettable gift. After a long kiss, we moved into the next room. Here it was obvious that the room belonged to a girl… rather, some fabulous, medieval princess. Yes, it was truly a princess’ room.
“This room was probably for one of Duchess Louise’s daughters,” I speculated.
The room had an indescribable atmosphere. It was quiet and peaceful but, at the same time, exuded a subtle, barely perceptible mysticism in it.
Tapestries remained hanging on the walls. They were terribly dusty, but the images remained distinguishable although gnawed by rats. Paintings depicting gardens with cupids gave off a rather Greek theme. There were no images of wars and fights as in the first room.
The bed was high with a wooden roof frame and a large, feather mattress also eaten by rats. The bed was decorated with a canopy of tender white, transparent in color. The bed was once gilded, which made the room even more feminine. Now, there wasn’t much paint left. There was a beautiful plum-colored, corduroy bedspread on top. It was pulled back, revealing a pillow. In general, there was a feeling that someone had recently slept in the bed. I even got goosebumps running down my back. If I hadn’t seen with my own eyes that the door was blocked, I would have assumed that someone lived here.
