Walsden Junior School

here was once a farmer called George. He lived with his wife, Rebecca, in a tumble-down cottage on a smallholding. They didn’t have much, just enough to get by, but Rebecca adored the place because she could see Dobroyd Castle from her window.
It wasn’t really a castle, of course, it had been built by one of John Fielden’s sons for his wife – but that’s another story. Sometimes Rebecca would close her eyes as she sat spinning wool and imagine herself as mistress of Dobroyd. Then Hercules, their old horse, would whinny for his food and pull her from her daydream.
In truth, she didn’t want to be anywhere but on the farm. She loved George and she loved Hercules. He was the only thing of value that they owned, a strong, faithful and honourable old horse. He worked hard and asked for so little in return. Often George would say,
“You know, it seems like magic that we found him at the fair that day, and I still can’t believe how little we paid for him.”

About the only thing that left Rebecca sad was the fact that they didn’t have a child, no matter how much they tried. At times the feeling made her cry.
One day as dusk fell, George wandered outside, for he couldn’t bear to see Rebecca so unhappy. Watching the sun sink he said quietly,
“I’d give anything for Rebecca to have a baby.”
Now wishing out loud was a foolish thing, for the fey folk can hear. And sure enough, the fairies heard George’s words and one came to him.
“We can make that come true, and all we’d ask is a very tiny price,” a small voice told him.
George looked down in surprise to see a gnarled fairy standing next to him. Without even pausing to ask what that price might be, he agreed to the bargain, knowing how much a child would mean to Rebecca.
But they fey folk are tricky and sly, and not entirely trustworthy. Once the deal had been made, the fairy told George what he’d have to pay: they wanted Hercules, for they desired his heart’s blood.
As soon as he learned that, George spent a long time pacing behind the house and cursing himself. He should have asked the price first. He loved Hercules, the horse was part of the family, but a deal was a deal, and with the fairies you never went back on your word. At least Rebecca would have a child.
The fairy promised he’d return in a year and a day for the heart of Hercules.

A week later the news that Rebecca was pregnant made George all too aware that he’d sealed his poor horse’s fate. He should have been happy, but he needed to be alone, and took off walking across the fields. The day was drawing to a close, the low sun reflecting off the windows of Dobroyd Castle, and George was too preoccupied to pay much attention to where he was going.
He almost stepped on an adder, only barely stopping himself from bringing his foot down. Without thinking, he said,
“Excuse me,” then realised he was talking to snake, and started back.
The adder hissed, turned around and then grinned. George couldn’t believe his eyes, and he bent down for a closer look. That was when he noticed that the snake’s fangs appeared to be made of wood!
“Why didn’t you try and bite me?” George asked.
“Well, it would be rather humiliating with false teeth,” the adder admitted.
With a sigh George sat down and the adder curled itself around a stone that was shaped like a rose.
“So how did it happen?” George asked the snake.
“This stone rose is a talisman,” the snake explained. “It’s part of what makes the land so special. I thought it was a nice, juicy flower and I went to bite into it just as fairy magic turned it into stone and I lost my teeth. The fairies felt bad about it, and kindly made me a pair of fangs from fycamore.”
“You mean sycamore?” George asked.
“That’s what I said, fycamore.”
“Are you fyc?”
With a lopsided grin, the snake uncurled itself from the stone rose.
“Look after this stone,” it told George, “it will help you in time of need.”
“Why are you helping me? You’re a snake, isn’t slyness in your nature?”
“Sometimes it’s good to go against your nature,” the snake answered with one of its unnerving grins. “One day when Hercules was in the field, he could have crushed me. He had his hoof raised above my head. But being the kind of horse he is, he stepped over me instead. So one good turn deserves another, I think.”
George put the stone in his pocket, and sadly went home. He knew he had to tell Rebecca of his bargain with the fairies.

“How could you do such a thing?” she shouted, her face red with fury. “Hercules is family! Didn’t you know the fairies wanted him? If you didn’t bother to find out first, that makes you stupid and heartless! Now get out, get out, get out!”
George left the cottage quickly and strode over to the stable where Hercules lived. Soon he was telling the horse everything. He apologised from the depths of his soul, tears in his eyes, while stroking the animal’s soft nose. He even told Hercules about the adder, which brought the stone rose to mind.
He took it from his pocket. As soon as Hercules’ warm breath touched the stone, the stable suddenly filled with the smell of roses, and in his palm George was now holding a beautiful, perfect rose, as red as any heart’s blood.
Hercules ate the rose, chewing slowly until nothing was left but the memory of soft breath on skin. The horse whinnied, and began to speak.
It should have been remarkable, but George had experienced so much lately that all he could do was stand and listen as the horse explained he was much older than he seemed.
“I’ve been so many things,” Hercules told him solemnly, “but I’ve always been the guardian of the land.”
“Why do the fairies want your heart’s blood?”
“My heart is the heart of the land, and my blood is the flower of the land. And as long as I’m here all will be well. They fe folk have always watched the world of men. They’ve seen everything change and they’ve learned to trust no one. So they want to be sure I remain here.”
“Then we’d best make the most of the time we have left,” George said grimly.

The weeks ran into months and eventually Rebecca gave birth to a beautiful baby boy named Edwin. There was a huge party and George held Edwin to the window so Hercules could see him.
For three months after the birth all seemed well. Rebecca and George had managed not to think of the fate of Hercules. But finally, just before the fairy’s return they had a party for the horse, knowing their time together was swiftly slipping away. It was Midsummer Night’s Eve, and the whole family walked out to the top field. The sun reflected off the windows of Dobroyd Castle, and Rebecca held Edwin so he could pat the horse one last time.
Hercules walked to where the fey folk waited and George, Rebecca and Edwin could only stand as watch as the fairies tossed a rope over the horse’s neck. The birdsong stopped as if the world was holding its breath.

In the silence they could hear Hercules talking softly with the little people, but no matter how hard they listened, they couldn’t make out the words. Then, as one, the fairies nodded solemnly, released the ropes, and walked away into the sunset. Hercules ambled back to the family.
“Why did they let you go?” George asked, his heart suddenly light with hope.
“I made a deal with them,” the horse told him. “They were afraid I’d leave, so we came to an agreement that will make it impossible for me to go. I’ll always be part of the family and of the land. But tonight don’t put me in the stable. Leave me here.”

When George woke at dawn he went to the field and feed Hercules. But there was no sign of the animal there. He called out the horse’s name again and again, but heard no response. All he could see was a large grey rock…about the size of a large horse. Then he understood the bargain the horse had made. Just like the stone rose, he could never leave.

Every Midsummer’s Eve the family would lay red roses by the Hercules stone. Years passed, times changed, and when Edwin was grown he left to go and work in a Halifax mill.
One Midsummer’s Eve, their roses scattered at the base of the Hercules stone, George and Rebecca turned for the slow trek back to their cottage. They felt old and weary. Even though the night was warm, Rebecca pulled the shawl around her old bones and with a soft smile said,
“It’s so lovely, I wish we could stay here forever.”

That weekend Edwin returned home for a visit. Opening the door, he found food on the table and logs in the grate. But there was no sign of his parents. Searching for them, he eventually came to the top field, where he found two large upright stones, the size of people, leaning into each other as if caught in an embrace, facing towards Dobroyd Castle.

Even today you can see these same three stones, watching over the land and protecting it. People say a fourth stone appears and disappears at will. Some can find it and some search fruitlessly. Who knows who the fourth stone is? Only the fey folk can tell you.

Daniel started a poem .......

Dobroyd Castle
A 1000 stairs
a 100 rooms
and a 3 headed dog for a guard..............