“And this brings us to the last room of our tour.”

Kurt said as he invited with a gesture the members of the little group to enter the room.
It was a spacious room situated on the second floor of the southern tower of the castle. With, for that time, spacious leaded windows overlooking the court yard and smaller ones overlooking the landscape around.

Kurt had been a guide now for over six years. He had learned a lot about castles and the late Middle Ages since then and he had fallen in love with them. He loved his job, he loved his castle. And he knew how to fascinate others when he talked about these things.

“This room is called the Ladies Room. As you can see at once it is one of the most luxurious in all the castle. The spacious leaded windows, the beautifully crafted wooden benches, chairs and table.”

Kurt walked about the room and indicated the various objects.

“But there is more. This is, apart from the kitchen and the Knight’s Hall, the only room with a fire place. It even features a kind of barbecue like device that could be used to prepare small meals on site. A kind of microwave so to say. Then these tapestries…”

The walls were almost completely covered with big tapestries depicting hunting and war scenes.

“… do not only have a decorative function. They are the medieval equivalent of our modern insulated walls.”

Kurt went on with his story, explaining many details about the lives of our ancestors. At least those ancestors with enough money to afford a castle.

“Has anybody an idea why it might be called the Ladies Room?”

“Because it was the private room of the Countess?” A young man answered.

“Yes, it was. But then you might also expect a private room for the Count, which does not exist.”

Everybody knew some other interesting explanation was coming up now and they looked inquisitively at Kurt to hear it.

“Ladies were not expected to take part in all social events as liberally as it is the custom today. They were quite often expected to retire and leave the men alone. Very much as we still see in many parts of the Muslim world today. And in the same way as it is still custom there, this room was off limits to strangers, i.e. strange men. Here the noble ladies had a room especially reserved to them.
Great care was taken that the noble ladies, not only the Countess but also her daughters and other female relatives that lived here, would be as comfortable as possible. They would spend their time here with embroidering, spinning,…”

Kurt indicated a spinning wheel standing in a corner

“… music and dance, story telling and other female activities en vogue before the TV was invented.”

Kurt walked up to a door in the outer wall. A little smile appeared on his face. He especially loved this part of his tour.

“Talking about luxury. This room features the most luxurious aspect of all the castle. Right behind this door. Anyone..?”

“A bathroom?” An elderly lady declared, with a sight of relief as she suddenly realized they had not seen one at all during their tour.

“Almost right madam. It is the only private toilet in all the castle.”

Kurt opened the door. Apart from having a door it was like all the other toilets. A kind of window sill with a hole in it, covered with a wooden lid. From there you could drop your droppings directly into the moat below.
Everybody stepped forward to look at this miracle of medieval luxury. Most even took pictures. Perhaps to build a copy of it at home? Kurt, who had redecorated his own apartment in a quite medieval way, always wondered how far others would go.

For Kurt this was always the most difficult part. He had to end his tour here. But he would so much have liked to explain all about how the moat was cleaned and maintained. What fish were bred there, that not only the French ate frogs and many many other things that in modern terms are called recycling and bio and were already known over seven hundred years ago, though they did not have fancy sounding English words for them then.

“Well ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for you attention. Our tour ends here, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. And of course, if there are any questions I will gladly try to answer them.”

The husband of the lady looking for the bathroom raised his hand, as no doubt he had done long ago at school.

“This room here, it is the one from the legend of Count Black Beard, isn’t it?”

“It is not a legend Sir, but yes it is the room.”

“Who was Count Black Beard” several voices asked more or less simultaneously.

Kurt loved this. An opportunity to tell one of the most spectacular stories of his castle. That was fun. And would certainly provide an extra tip!

“Count William, nicknamed Black Beard, was the richest and most powerful lord that ever owned this castle. He was a cousin of the Emperor and married to Giselinda, grand niece of the King of Bohemia. By the way, the man in the middle of that battle scene is Count William.”

Kurt pointed at one of the tapestries where a big strong man in armor was busy fighting half a dozen enemies at the same time.
All turned around to see what Count William looked like, at least according to some artist from the mid 1960’s who had made it.

“He was a soldier, a harsh and rude man, though in courage and force second to none. He served his Imperial cousin in many battles, generally leading his Amy from victory to victory. The Emperor held his cousin in high esteem and rewarded him richly with land, privileges and titles.
However that was not enough for William. In his long military career he also plundered and stole putting together an immense treasure. A treasure that is still hidden somewhere in or around the castle according to legend.
Perhaps the legend exaggerates a little bit when it says that twelve strong wagons were needed to transport it, but there is historical proof that William did possess immense riches and that there might very well be an considerable treasure hidden in the vicinity. But nobody knows where, since William had all the workmen and wagoners killed by his soldiers after hiding the treasure. It all fits in well with what we know about the personality of the historical Count William, but there is no real historical proof for this. It is a legend. Nobody knows for sure if there really is a treasure or if these workmen were really slaughtered.”

Kurt had some talent as a narrator and he clearly had the attention of the group. And the best part of the story was yet to come.

“On the other hand, what happened in this room is not a legend at all. While Count William was campaigning, Giselinda took care of the estates, assisted by a Jewish steward. Jews were generally despised, but esteemed for this kind of work.
Apparently Giselinda felt lonely during all these months and even years Count William was away. This Jew was as it seems not that despicable and comforted his mistress with more than only gentle words. Giselinda’s daughters knew about it and helped their mother keep the secret for several years….”

Kurt paused for a moment to let them realize what inevitably was going to come now. With a broad gesture he underlined their thoughts and continued.

“And of course eventually things went awry. The Count found out. He found the Jew at his office. - That is the room where you just bought your tickets by the way.- There is no other way to put it, he simply butchered him and in his rage cut up the corpse into a great many little pieces with his war axe. One like that.”

Kurt pointed at the chimney from which an all steel war axe was hanging that looked very business like. By now Kurt had made his way to the door as he continued.

“Then Count William in rage and covered with blood came up to this room where his wife and daughters were, together with a servant.”

Violently he shoved the door closed and turned the key.

“They were trapped. They knew what must have happened and why William had come. And they knew that this formidable adversary did not know the meaning of the word mercy. The servant girl somehow managed to slip away unnoticed and hide in the toilet. That is how we know what happened.”

Funny, all people always looked at it then, probably expecting her to come out at last now that is was safe again. This group was no exception.

“Giselinda threw herself at his feet, trying at least to save the children. My Lord, it was I who dishonored you. Punish me as it pleases you but please spare our children. In the name of our Savior I beg you!
Count William was not at all impressed.
Not only did you dishonor me, but of all men you choose this filthy heathen. You implore our Savior? You the whore of one of those who spilled His Holy Blood? And those, pointing at his daughters, those who chose to let this happen, how can my honor ever be reestablished as long as their treacherous breath envenoms the world?”

Kurt was quite good at imitating both a heavy masculine voice and a convincing female voice. An art that had taken quite some practice but made his performance very convincing. His audience was entranced listening to him. And he enjoyed it every bit.

“In his rage he started to beat up the three women with his bare hands. Breaking ribs and bones until they were more dead than alive.
Perhaps you have once seen how not so very long ago farmers used to cut up a pig after butchering it. They tied it to a ladder with stretched limbs so the job could easily be done. That was what Black Beard now did with the women, using the benches instead of ladders. And with the little difference that they were still alive.”

Although Kurt loved telling the story it never failed to move him immensely when he imagined the cruel fate that these women underwent here in this very room, even if it was some seven hundred years ago.

“I will spare you the ghastly details. At the end Count William took his dagger and cut their throats to let the little blood and life that might still be left flow out. At that moment Giselinda gathered all her remaining strength and with her last breath she cursed William for his brutal and merciless behavior that his soul would never find rest and never leave the castle that witnessed his ignoble deeds.”

Kurt fell silent. Submerged in his thoughts, as were the others.

“It seems it did not work though. Nobody has ever seen the ghost of Black Beard. But there are some who say they saw Giselinda. And she is said to bring bad luck, for on several occasions she was seen when people died.”

“Have you ever see her?” A young man asked.

“No, and I have been here for six years now, both during day and night. And for some time we had a group of scientists here calling themselves The Association for Scientific Measurement Of Ghosts. They did not find anything either.”

“What happened to the Count afterwards?” The husband of the bathroom lady wanted to know.

“He had the bad luck to be only a Count, so unlike King Henry VIII of England he did get punished. Although the King of Bohemia exacted his head he was eventually not executed. He had to renounce all his titles and possessions which passed on to his son Gernot. Finally he was then sent as a pilgrim to Jerusalem in an attempt to save his eternal soul and to get a no longer sociable person out of the way for several years. He never returned and we do not know what became of him.”

Kurt had opened the door again by now and let out the little party downstairs into the court yard towards the main gate. They said good bye and as was to be expected the tips were generous.

It was well past five and this was the last group for today. The guides would now make a final round and prepare for the night.

Formerly a private security man would stay there during the night, but in order to economize it had been decided that the guides would alternately stay at the castle during the night. Today it was Kurt’s turn.
Kurt liked the night shift. Ordering pizza or Chinese food at the costs of the museum. Quietly watching TV and having a beer. He was even allowed to sleep a few hours on the stretcher which was especially provided for that purpose. And for this hard work he got double pay. It always surprised him how you can save money like this, but according to their accountant it worked.

But the best part of it was that he had his castle all to himself, from dusk till dawn.
At first Kurt had just wandered around, enjoying the quiet and imagining he was an ancient Count. But soon he got bored. He decided to spend his time in a useful way by inventing his own little private Plan of Professional Development.
Since the museum had a nice collection of historical costumes, arms and utensils for historical reenactment he decided to try some of them. At first as Count, knight and merchant. Soon however the Count became a Countess.
Many nights Kurt had wandered around the empty castle, daydreaming he was Giselinda managing the estate while William was fighting the enemies of the Reich, or at least the Emperor and himself, and filling his pockets with their gold.
He had perfected his looks as a Countess, he had learned a lot about all the female arts of those long since gone days. He knew how to play several old music instruments, knew medieval dances and even how to use a spinning wheel. More and more he had started to identify himself with the unfortunate Countess. In short, things had gone slightly out of control. But as so often nobody really bothered.

On various occasions Kurt had even been on the verge of asking his director if he could play the role of Giselinda at the reenactments and other festivities. And always he had cursed himself for being such a coward and not daring to ask.
But at least he could be Giselinda at night, though unfortunately not every night. Perhaps being her forever was his greatest wish…

Many hours she spent with the joy of acting and the pleasure of pretending. A play without spectators but she did not care. She was a Countess, dressed to the nines, splendid and fair.
It felt very right, too bad it was only at night.

And that is how we find our wannabe Countess again. Making her rounds in a magnificent dress and wig.
With only two concessions to modernity, an electrical torch and a cell phone, she entered the Ladies Room for the umpteenth routine check in her career.

With a sharp bang the door closed behind her. The key was turned from the outside. Kurt turned around and tried to open it. In vain. He beat at the door with his fist.

“This is not funny! Open up!”

Silence. Some joke of his colleagues? Burglars? But then he must have heard their footsteps... Should he call the security firm? Better not dressed like this. Perhaps a look from the window might clarify the situation. He turned around.

“Hello young man.”

Kurt’s flashlight fell on the floor. His breath stopped. He could no longer move nor think, just staring at what he saw in front of him. In front of the fireplace the ghost of Giselinda was sitting on a bench and looking at him. A genuine ghost of the fourth category.* His first ever.

“I have been watching you for quite some time. It seems you like very much to be me. And I admit that you are quite good at it too.”

The ghost seemed to be friendly. By now Kurt had partially regained control over himself.

“Who are you?” He managed to stammer.

“Well, we both know that is actually a quite stupid and superfluous question, don’t we?” The apparition answered.

“Well, yes… I think you are right.” Kurt said, moving around, though not knowing were precisely to go, since he felt very uncomfortable in the presence of the ghost.

“What do you want from me? Why do you only show up now?”

“In short, I think you can redeem me from my present situation. I observed you for quite some time to be sure about it. Now I am. I come to ask your help.”

“My help?”

“Yes, your help. You know very well what happened here and I think you can easily understand why my soul cannot find eternal peace. I need a man who can identify with a woman, in an ideal case with me, and who can reach my soul at a special level of communication so that I can at last be freed.”

“special level of communication…?”

Kurt had read the Ghost Handbook and did not recall anything about levels of communication. Perhaps there were two volumes after all?

“Yes. It was William’s lack of understanding for female feelings, his lack of compassion that caused my misfortune. What is needed is the opposite to undo it.”

“But why me?”

“If you know someone else who can identify with me sufficiently I would be most willing to ask him.”

“I see…”

Kurt answered in a tone that betrayed his total lack of enthusiasm. Kurt was still not at all comfortable in her presence, even though there seemed no threat.

“Perhaps a little reward might increase your enthusiasm. I will tell you where William’s treasure is if you help me. You will have more gold than you can ever spend. What about that!”

Giselinda said with a very sweet smile on her slightly translucent face.

“And what would I have to do?”

“Prepare a magic potion and drink it, that is all.”

“And why don’t you do it yourself?”

“I am a ghost. I can neither prepare nor drink anything.”

A more philosophical mind might have remarked that that saves both the time for eating and drinking and going to the toilet, but Kurt was not in the mood for that right now.

“And how will this then help you?”

“It will make you enter the right state of mind for this special level of communication I already explained to you. And once there, things will move on automatically. You need not to do anything at all.”

Kurt contemplated what she had said. Twelve wagons full of gold…. His own castle was within reach. Perhaps not even a second hand one but a comfortable twenty first century copy with floor heating. Despite his admiration for the Middle Ages even he had to admit that they lacked a certain level of comfort.

“Is this treasure really as big as the legend tells?”

“No, it is considerably bigger. Seems for some reason they always need the numbers seven or twelve in legends. It was actually more fourteen or fifteen. And not only is it just gold, many objects are pieces of art of unimaginable worth. There are precious stones, well all a real treasure needs.”

For Kurt that settled the matter. After all, what did he have to loose?

“Well, tell me what I have to do then.”

“Listen carefully, I will tell you what ingredients we need for the potion….”
The Countess told Kurt exactly what was needed and how it should be prepared at the fire place in the Ladies Room.*

The room was empty when Kurt entered at the agreed day, or actually night, and time.
He put his bag with ingredients and a kettle on the table next to the fire place.

“Why did you not dress as a Countess this time?”

Kurt started and cringed together as he heard the well known female voice behind him. He turned around and there she was, standing at the opposite side of the room, near the window.

“Well, I eh… it seemed more appropriate not to I thought. After all, you are…”

“Never mind, did you bring all I asked for? Put it on the table and let me see.”

Kurt did as he was asked. The Countess looked at it and seemed very pleased.

“Light the fire and let us begin.”

Silently Kurt started a small fire with some old newspapers and wood chips, Several minutes later he had a nice fire burning and added some logs. The Countess directed the preparation of the potion and soon a very peculiar smell filled the room.

“Very good. Keep stirring. And just when it starts boiling get it off the fire.”

Again Kurt did as he was told.

“And now?”

“Put it on the table and let it cool down.”

Silently they sat opposite each other while waiting. Kurt wanted to start a little conversation with his idol, but he did not know at all how to start one with a ghost and what to talk about.
Clearly the Ghost Handbook was not as comprehensive and complete a guide as it pretended. Like most handbooks it was unable to close the gap between theory and practice and in this respect Kurt was no better than the handbook.
The Countess for her part was completely absorbed by the magic potion. It was absolutely clear she was very eager to finish the whole operation.

“I think it has cooled down sufficiently. Pour it into a mug and drink it.”

Kurt did so. A few moments later the world started to spin, he went dizzy and lost his conscience.
As he regained consciousness the first morning light could already be seen. He must have passed out for several hours. Slowly he recovered. As he lifted his head he saw himself sitting opposite him. Which did at first not strike him at all as being odd. Only when he saw his own white and slightly translucent hands he uttered a cry of horror.

“What happened?” He asked himself, or at least the person who looked like him sitting on the other side of the table.

“Well, we changed places as you can see.”

“But I only wanted to release you.”

“You did. Thanks. But you could only do so by taking my place. Perhaps you could blame me of not mentioning that very explicitly…”

“You betrayed me! You…”

“Calm down, I did not betray you at all. Had you asked more into detail I would have been obliged to tell you everything. But you were so keen about the treasure that you forgot. My only obligation to you now is to tell you where the treasure is, since I promised you that. It is in a hidden vault under the keep. And you will have no difficulties going there at all in your present form and see it for yourself.”

“But..”

“Ah. Come on, stop complaining, you now have all you ever wanted…“ New Kurt gave the new Countess a mean smirk “.. you are a Countess now, with your own castle and a fabulous treasure. More gold than you can ever spend!”

“But how can this be, why this changing places? In every normal ghost story the ghost is simply released, why not here!?”

“There is always an exception, you are simply in the wrong story. Just bad luck. Life is not always fair.”

Kurt did not get it at all and kept staring utterly confused at his former self.

“Remember the curse? It was a little bit different from how the legend tells it. Giselinda wanted William to get more understanding for the fair sex. Wanted him to know what it meant being a women, waiting alone at home year in year out. Both as a lesson and as a punishment by stripping him of his violent masculinity that he liked so much. Forever. The curse was granted and when he died William had to take up his new role. But he was granted one final pardon. If he could find a man, willing to take the role of a women, especially of Giselinda, and could make him drink the magic potion he would be set free in the way you just experienced yourself.”

Kurt listened with amazement. That was indeed completely new to him.

“Then you are William?”

“No, William only spent three months as Giselinda. He was too clever for this curse. William knew very well his Master of Arms had this little inclination as well. He told him what had happened and promised him the treasure. He too was greedy and forgot to ask what would happen.”

“But he died. He fell off his horse, reputedly frightened by seeing Giselinda’s ghost.”

“True. William was in such a hurry to get away that he had an accident before even making it to the gate.”

“So, you are the Master of Arms?”

“No, he too managed eventually to escape his prison. But it took him several centuries. I was just a simple old servant when he deceived me. He did not enjoy his success very long either. Once free he danced and sang around in this very room. But my old body was to frail for that and he got a heart attack and died on the spot. And when the other servants came in to have a look what was this noise about, guess who they saw and blamed for his death.”

Kurt remembered this story as well.

By now Kurt had found the solution. This was a dream, He would wake up any moment and find himself on the stretcher. Unfortunately it did not happen.

“Well, Frau Grá¤fin, it was nice talking to you, but I have a life waiting for me, so please excuse me.”

Kurt’s body was off, heading for freedom. Kurt realized that he should act now or all would be lost for God knows how long. He followed his body. That was by now walking the gallery towards the stairs.

“Stop, you can’t leave me like this. It is unjust and you know it. Come back…”

His body was standing at the top of the stairs and turned around.

“Get lost. There is only one thing that can help you know.”

He waved with his arms as if he wanted to chase the ghost away.

“Start looking for someone to release you…”

New Kurt was apparently a little bit annoyed. Standing near the edge of the first step he did not pay attention when he started waving and shouting. A moment later he lost his equilibrium and fell down the stairs. His head hit the cobble stones with a clearly audible crack. A moment later blood started to flow out of his mouth and nose.

From the other side of the courtyard a female voice cried out loudly.

“No!”

Hilde and Walther had just arrived in time to see the accident happen. Both ran towards Kurt to offer medical assistance. After all, all guides were certified first-aiders.
Half way Hilde stopped, struck with horror as she saw the Countess standing at the top of the stairs. She pointed at her.

“Look…”

Walther saw her now too. Though also afraid, he did not stop. Yet, the only thing he could do for Kurt when he reached him was to close his eyes.
Now both were looking at the ghost. Paralyzed. Their faces full with fear. Not really knowing what to do they just stared.
The apparition that causes people to die, hitherto just a legend, was there, right in front of them and the bloody proof of her lethal powers laying at their feet.

Kurt descended the stairs. He wanted to explain to his colleagues what had happened. But he was unable to bring forth any sound. He felt that it was impossible for him to contact a world, a reality that had been his just a few moments ago.
He saw the impression het made on Hilde and Walther. He felt the first sun rays touch him. He felt how he slowly started to fade away for the first time.
It started to dawn upon him how desperate his situation was.

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Notes:

* The Ghost Handbook, chapter 3, page 72. (1998 edition). Ghosts of the fourth category show the following characteristics: Humanoid, white in color, 10 — 20% translucent, low light emissions, no extra features like chains, tools or animals. Basically what most people would call a classic ghost.

** Originally the author wanted to give a detailed description of the receipt and the whole preparation of the beverage. To underline the authenticity of the story and also to show off with her immense knowledge of these matters.
Her legal advisor however pointed out that this, even accompanied by a stern warning “Do not try this at home!” might imply severe juridical consequences for her. Safely can be said however that the main ingredients are goat milk and henbane (Hyoscyamus niger) and that it should not be prepared in a micro wave oven. Honey can be added to overcome the awful taste if desired.

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Just an idea that popped up at some moment and eventually ended up as a story.

The picture is Burg Linn (Linn Castel) in Krefeld, Germany. A nice example of a fairly original medieval castle with a moat. It is sure worth a visit should you ever come in the vicinity.

Again I want to thank my friend Lora Guy for commenting the beta version and iron out some of my mistakes.

Ah, and of course, if you liked the story, please hit the button below. This is to motivate authors to write more stories as you know ;-)

Karin Beyaert