carried her up the curving stone, worn smooth after years of use. Boyish giggles accompanied her progress. She placed one hand against the uneven wall and continued upward until the steps ended at a low doorway.
Marian stepped through and found herself on the battlements. The only sound she could hear was dim footfalls. No doubt it was guards, patrolling their assigned areas. The shadows on the ground grew longer with the setting sun. She shivered again. This was where rumor said the boys had died, their bodies swaying against the walls meant to shield them from harm. A cold chill that did not come from the cooling summer air crawled across her skin.
“What now?” A boy’s high pitched voice said.
“Do not worry, ” the other voice answered, “ they will be here soon.”
“Who—” Marian’s voice cracked, and she tried again. “Who is coming?”
More giggles.
“She is scared of them.”
“Shhh.”
Fading light traced long fingers of gray along the edges of the low walls as the sun finally dropped completely below the horizon.
“ They are coming ,” the voices whispered in unison.
The hair on the back of Marian’s neck rose. She tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry. The shadows grew longer, stretching across the battlements until they tore themselves free to swirl and eddy around her ankles. She did not move, not even when the shadows separated and coalesced into two forms, one slightly hidden behind the other. The first figure smiled at her, one hand clasping the hand of the child behind him. They were young boys on the cusp of the manhood they would never attain. Marian’s eyes welled with sympathetic tears.
“What are you doing here?” She asked.
“She does not understand.”
“They will explain it to her.” More boyish giggles followed that statement.
The first ghost raised his chin, the beginnings of a downy beard on his nearly transparent cheeks. Marian could see where the rope that hung him had cut into his windpipe. The younger boy stepped out from behind him, lifting his chin so she could see the identical marks across his throat.
“Wh—what do you want?” Marian took a cautious step forward, her hand outstretched to touch him. As her fingers touched his palm, he shimmered briefly. The unnatural shadows laughed.
The boys shrugged in unison, the younger one stepping back to stand next to the older boy, his hand reaching out to clasp the other child’s.
As Marian watched, they solidified, their features becoming more distinct. Both ghosts had curly dark hair, wide blue eyes and wore long white shirts which hung to just below their knees.
The eldest one pointed to his throat and shook his head.
“You cannot speak? But—I’ve heard the other ones...”
The boys sighed, chests rising and falling with breath they no longer had. Opening their mouths wide, they screamed wordlessly.
A screeching so ghastly it threatened to uproot Marian’s very soul emerged from the ghosts’ mouths. She dropped to her knees, her hands covering her ears. The sound faded away and Marian raised her head, eyes watering.
“I do not understand,” she said.
The youngest one pulled his hand free of the other boy and, with a wink, began to sink into the stone directly in front of her. When he was buried nearly up to his chest, he raised one ethereal hand and beckoned her closer.
Marian took a cautious step forward, but as she did, he sank further into the stone until he disappeared entirely, leaving her staring at the ghost who remained. The young boy opened his mouth and she cringed, waiting to hear his unearthly shriek. He sighed, a barely felt puff of air against her face, and vanished into the stone, his hand gesturing her to follow him.
“Wait!” she cried, “I do not understand what you want.”
Marian heard the soft metallic sound of chain mail approaching and turned.
“My lady, what are you doing here?” A single guard, his face worn and leathery, walked toward her, his
Marian stepped through and found herself on the battlements. The only sound she could hear was dim footfalls. No doubt it was guards, patrolling their assigned areas. The shadows on the ground grew longer with the setting sun. She shivered again. This was where rumor said the boys had died, their bodies swaying against the walls meant to shield them from harm. A cold chill that did not come from the cooling summer air crawled across her skin.
“What now?” A boy’s high pitched voice said.
“Do not worry, ” the other voice answered, “ they will be here soon.”
“Who—” Marian’s voice cracked, and she tried again. “Who is coming?”
More giggles.
“She is scared of them.”
“Shhh.”
Fading light traced long fingers of gray along the edges of the low walls as the sun finally dropped completely below the horizon.
“ They are coming ,” the voices whispered in unison.
The hair on the back of Marian’s neck rose. She tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry. The shadows grew longer, stretching across the battlements until they tore themselves free to swirl and eddy around her ankles. She did not move, not even when the shadows separated and coalesced into two forms, one slightly hidden behind the other. The first figure smiled at her, one hand clasping the hand of the child behind him. They were young boys on the cusp of the manhood they would never attain. Marian’s eyes welled with sympathetic tears.
“What are you doing here?” She asked.
“She does not understand.”
“They will explain it to her.” More boyish giggles followed that statement.
The first ghost raised his chin, the beginnings of a downy beard on his nearly transparent cheeks. Marian could see where the rope that hung him had cut into his windpipe. The younger boy stepped out from behind him, lifting his chin so she could see the identical marks across his throat.
“Wh—what do you want?” Marian took a cautious step forward, her hand outstretched to touch him. As her fingers touched his palm, he shimmered briefly. The unnatural shadows laughed.
The boys shrugged in unison, the younger one stepping back to stand next to the older boy, his hand reaching out to clasp the other child’s.
As Marian watched, they solidified, their features becoming more distinct. Both ghosts had curly dark hair, wide blue eyes and wore long white shirts which hung to just below their knees.
The eldest one pointed to his throat and shook his head.
“You cannot speak? But—I’ve heard the other ones...”
The boys sighed, chests rising and falling with breath they no longer had. Opening their mouths wide, they screamed wordlessly.
A screeching so ghastly it threatened to uproot Marian’s very soul emerged from the ghosts’ mouths. She dropped to her knees, her hands covering her ears. The sound faded away and Marian raised her head, eyes watering.
“I do not understand,” she said.
The youngest one pulled his hand free of the other boy and, with a wink, began to sink into the stone directly in front of her. When he was buried nearly up to his chest, he raised one ethereal hand and beckoned her closer.
Marian took a cautious step forward, but as she did, he sank further into the stone until he disappeared entirely, leaving her staring at the ghost who remained. The young boy opened his mouth and she cringed, waiting to hear his unearthly shriek. He sighed, a barely felt puff of air against her face, and vanished into the stone, his hand gesturing her to follow him.
“Wait!” she cried, “I do not understand what you want.”
Marian heard the soft metallic sound of chain mail approaching and turned.
“My lady, what are you doing here?” A single guard, his face worn and leathery, walked toward her, his
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