Chapter 1
Everyone thought that the old woman who lived in the castle was crazy.
They called her a witch.
They called her a sorceress.
Everyone had a name for the old woman, even her own family members. But only one had ever called her "Auntie." That is to whom this story belongs.
The strange and curious tale began on an ordinary day, a plain, predictable and ordinary day in the railcar of the train heading for the Langstaffs' vast estate in the town of Catchpole. Young Martin Langstaff lay in his bunk, dreading the thought of having to return to that blasted estate where his cousins all dwelled along with the rest of the family. He would have much rather stayed another week at that military hospital in Egypt where the nurses had shown much more affection for him than he had ever received at home.
I know none of them will be pleased when I come back, least of all Uncle Ivor..... that man has no business in talking down to others the way he does....
Martin kept his deep blue eyes fixed on the window as the green blur of the countryside passed by outside. The clacking of the wheels and the hum of the train engine should have been enough to put him back to sleep, but like many things, sleep did not come easy for him these days. Months of fighting in South Africa had taught him a hard lesson, a lesson in which sleep was a luxury he would no longer be able to afford.
Oh who am I kidding.....he thought. They still treat me like the redheaded stepchild....so why should I expect any different?
Martin had wished with all his longing that the rest of the Langstaffs would care, that they would see that he at least was trying to do something with his life. Why shouldn't they? He was well read, a kind soul who preferred books to joining his brothers in the weekly hunts that took place on the estate. He valued things that would have been otherwise overlooked or brushed aside in favor of more material and tangible things. Uncle Ivor, Aunt Euphrasia, Cousin Alistair, Uncle Cuthbert.....none of them thought Martin was or should be, part of the family.
Oh why couldn't they have left me at that hospital in Cairo just a month longer....?
Martin brushed a few loose strands of his silky red hair from his forehead. A few hot tears ran from his eyes, down the bridge of his nose and onto the pillow, before he finally closed his eyes and drifted off into a deep and listless sleep.
