A darkling drabble offers a shiver of horror in a hundred words…
The smell brought women to their front doors and prudent wives closed their windows.
“What be that?”
The oldest among them pointed to the mouldering stones of the castle that stood high above them, and the plume of oily black smoke that hung around it.
“They’m burning a body.”
“Question is, who. Is it the old one? Or have he won again?”
The youngest wife sighed. “I don’t suppose us’ll ever know. But that knight was mighty fine.”
“Aye. But so was the old one when he first come here.”
The women shivered and went indoors away from the darkness.