Thursday, March 29, 2012

I won! I really won! (Emphasis added for effect)

Now that I tricked you to get you here, it all came about out of sheer boredom.  I was cruising the internet one night, unable to write because I was simply too tired, and came across this contest. It sounded easy. They wanted a description of a building, any building, in less than 300 words. It was a test of skill to “instantly conjure a detailed and vivid image into the mind’s eye”. How hard could it be? I took a description from my finished fantasy novel, Kindar’s Cure, and slapped it into a standalone piece. Wham, bam, it’s submitted.
I didn’t win first prize. My name was listed third. No glamorous prizes. No cash. Just a free entry into another contest and another excuse for a sad desperate writer to brag.
Anyway here it is, in its entirety or see it here at Webook:

The castle at Bellmore stood alone in an open meadow. Kindar fidgeted with her reins as she studied the approach. Built at the edge of a reed-edged, natural lake, flat waters surrounded Bellmore on three sides. The fourth side contained the only entrance beyond the postern gate at the back that had to be reached by rowboat or barge. A grand courtyard bailey surrounded by heavily weathered gray stone walls and portcullis barred the approach to the keep itself which consisted of a single whitewashed tower. The first two stories of the tower offered only arrow slots, the true windows reserved for the last floor. Stone and more stone gave cold welcome, even the tile shingles were designed to prevent an assailant from using fire as a weapon.

The road to the castle was empty of soldiers or anyone else. Her horse shook his head as a butterfly fluttered around his ears, and she patted him absently. In this open area, watchers had spotted her immediately. As she rode into the arch before the portcullis, Kindar glanced up. Murder holes in the stone arch revealed soldiers, dressed in scarlet and gold, inspecting her every move. Drawn bows leveled arrows at her chest. Her hand drifted to her sword and tightened on the grip.

Chains rattled as the portcullis shuddered, then rose. She crossed into the green of the grassy bailey, waiting as soldiers spilled from outbuildings built in the walls and the keep itself. Her chin rose, but gray roof and cloudy sky blended above her, equally out of reach. Her sister could be confined anywhere.

1 comment:

  1. Congrats! You're on a winning streak lately. Here's hoping that carries over to your submissions. =)