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The Legend of Carcasonne. This story begins in a city of bones. In the alleyways of the dead. In & around the silent & eerie boulevards

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Introduction

This story begins in a city of bones. In the alleyways of the dead. In & around the silent & eerie boulevards, promenades and Impasses of the French town of Carcasonne, a place inhabited by tombs & stone angels of death that guard the entrance to the town, & the loitering ghosts, spectres & poltergeists of those people long forgotten before they were even dead and buried in their cold, snow- glazed graves of brilliant white marble. Carcasonne, was a place of beauty, tranquillity in its snowy palatial surroundings but something had changed, the town was now somewhat gloomy but for no particular reason, you just got the feeling that something had tipped the balance of good and evil in this misguided town. The town itself, medieval in age, sits on the side of a small hill alongside the River Aude, but on the far bank, to the east of the town stands the small village of Bastide. Scale the steep hill just to the east of the town to the Saint. Vincent cemetery and look south. In the centre of Carcasonne you witness the dilapidated biscuit coloured battlements of the fortress on the horizon, of which in the foreground you can see the Pyrenees. ...read more.

Middle

The cathedral bell sounded, announcing the coming of midnight & a new day. About ten more minutes passed, lamps were beginning to pass through the corridors, then going out, one by one. The heavy wooden doors by the front gate slammed shut. The baron's chamber was on the far side of the castle to the north. I trembled with fear, again a noise, a noise that I couldn't distinguish, a sort of wailing. Then it came to me. As the legend said, the ghost of Pierre Joseph Cambon would prowl the castle at night trying to find a descendant of King Louis XV to exact his revenge on. Then something else came to me, Baron Dixonnierre was a far, but true descendant of King Louis XV. Consequently I rushed round to the window of the baron's room, waiting, waiting for IT to happen. Agitated by this remembrance of this possibly grave fact of Louis ancestry, I kept my eyes constantly fixed upon the window of the room in which the baron slept, unbeknown to him the peril at which he had put himself in by becoming the new owner of then castle and its battlements. However I was still hoping that the event would occur! ...read more.

Conclusion

He advanced to the spot on which I stood. But, for some strange reason went straight through me and headed towards the chamber of Baron Dixonnierre. I followed, although at a distance the ghost. It burst into the room of the Baron, and instantaneously plunged the dagger which he held through the Barons chest! 'Arrrrghhhhhhhhhhhh' the Baron screamed, I could already tell that there was no hope for him, the life drained from his eyes and his skin began to turn a ghostly white. I decided that this was enough, I couldn't take in any more of this horrific sight. A man dying in his own bed. I thought 'where can I go? Anywhere, anywhere away from here!' my conscience answered. I decided to follow my conscience's advice. I ran, ran as fast as I could out of the castle, to the forest again. My horse stood in the same spot where I had left it earlier, I jumped onto the saddle and rode off into the night, out towards the eastern side of Carcasonne. I managed to repress the images and memories of that night. The news of the Barons death echoed around the town the next day. The legend was over, Cambon had gained his revenge, all was well and the town of Carcasonne bathed in the bright sunshine again and forever would remain peaceful. By Joshua Evans ...read more.

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