Clun Castle and The Shade of the Warlock

On our Shropshire outing I had planned to visit several hill forts. Having completely failed to be able to park anywhere near one of them, and having had our potential parking space stolen by someone else (seriously – we were in the middle of nowhere – where did that person come from?) we moved on. No hill forts for us today – too little time and too much to do! We scooted off and headed for the next scheduled destination.

For most of the afternoon we had been seeing signs for the three or four main towns and villages in the area. There were literally only three or four places within a twenty square mile area, so we kept seeing the same names. Every time we pass a sign saying “Clun” Kal would parrot it back, as though it was some kind of fanciful legendary location that could be willed to appear. Minutes later we turned a corner to travel along the floor of a valley with a wide U-shaped basin and in the distance we spied a looming sunlit tower and half a wall. A castle? Cool! We continued towards it with our eyes on the prize, as it were. A few minutes later we saw a sign denoting the name of the village we were entering… “Welcome to Clun”. Destiny is our SatNav.

The sun was beckoning us out of the car as we parked in the convenient and free parking lot. The public toilets appeared to be musical, and the whole village seemed bright and welcoming. We both loved it immediately. We crossed the sturdy wooden bridge over the slow-moving glassy river. We each picked our own dowsed path beyond that as we began our trek over and around the imposing majesty of the grassy mound before us, wondering where we would be led to.

I stopped to dowse for some indication of what I would find at this place, after all, there is no point hurtling headlong into nothing. The answer that came back after several questions was something that I could learn from. OK, well that was pretty general, but I knew it was not related to my current quest, only that it would enhance my progress generally. Well and good. Onwards to whatever!

The rods took me by the wider well-trodden cart track initially, bypassing the steep climb up the front of what I thought was the main hill. As I rounded the other side I saw that there was a further hill to climb. I followed the track around the hill to the far side until I couldn’t take my eyes off the castle’s silhouette. The rods began to swing directly towards the castle now, as though they too were being drawn directly to it. However, the direct path was also the steepest! I had to climb down into the moat, and then out again up onto the motte by a precarious path. I wavered, then went for it. Looked like I was going to have to work hard for any reward. Luckily, all my fitness training was paying off and I scaled it easily.

I took a moment to assess the summit and its layout. Kal was already in the throes of dowsing, having arrived by a much easier path. Typical! Before I continued I got my camera out and took a picture of Kal with his dowsing rods poised for action. I’m such a poor photographer because the image was like the one that Kal took of me recently – all messed up with Kal in a bubble of purple light. Dammit! I really must learn not to take pictures with the sun behind the subject – look what happens!

I followed my dowsed path until I stopped at a small shiny round pebble. It really struck my attention because there were no other pebbles around. I stopped to pick it up because I knew I would need it soon. What for, I had no idea, but I knew I needed it. The rods continued their wavy path for a few feet further then circled at one of the large windows. I turned to admire the vista – a long lingering unobstructed view across the Clun Valley framed beautifully by the curving arch of the stonework. It was one of the best views I have seen in a long time. So good that I forgot to take a picture of it. You’ll have to go there yourself to fill in these blanks.

Fitzalan Family Familiarisation

As I stood admiring the view a thought struck me. I knew from experience that places with stunning views are often the resting place for shades, so I asked the dowsing rods if there was a shade here – YES. I knew it. I could feel something. A slight chill in the air despite the sunny afternoon. I bubbling feeling of energy when the rods had turned into a spiral at this spot. I was becoming familiar with the signs. I asked to be shown something that would reveal some information about the shade and was taken straight to an information board that talked about the inhabitants of the castle – its’ owners the Fitzalan family. I began to question the rods a little more. Was there something on the information sign that mentioned the name of the shade that I had sensed? YES. Right – then I would read the sign and memorise the names.

Back at the shade’s resting place I asked if the shade would reveal something of itself to me – it revealed that it was Richard Fitzalan – whom I later found out to be the 8th Earl of Arundel. This Marcher Lord had been not only a powerful and rich man, but also someone heavily involved in wizardry – the title “warlock” kept pressing itself into my consciousness as I stood on that spot and tuned into the energy frequency that resided there. That, I realised, might be something very difficult to prove indeed! Not something that gets recorded in many family histories, that kind of thing. Nevertheless, no matter how I framed the question, or how many times and ways that I asked the rods, they kept insisting that this was a valid title for this shade, and the reason why he had maintained his energy over such a long period of time.

Now things were getting interesting.

Wikipedia – source of all true knowledge – tell us :

“Richard was feudal Lord of Clun and Oswestry in the Welsh Marches. After attaining his majority in 1289 he became the 8th Earl of Arundel, by being summoned to Parliament by a writ directed to the Earl of Arundel.” (source: Wikipedia)

That’s a great way to become the 8th Earl of Arundel, don’t you think? “Oi – you there – I’ve got a letter here for the Earl of Arundel….” – “Oh yeah – that would be me, I suppose!” Et voila – he’s the Earl of Arundel. Things were simpler in those days.Of course, he had to subdue a few native Britons and Cymri on the way to that title, but that must have been bread and butter to such a wealthy and powerful figure. Here is another useful source recounting the history of the ownership of Clun Castle.

I checked with the rods – was it safe to interact with this spirit – YES. Would I need to put up some strong protection? NO. Anything at all? NO. I did anyway. Even though I felt completely at ease around this spirit, I still asked for the guidance and protection of my spirit guide. It’s now just a good habit I’ve got into. Apparently there was no need because the shade was benevolent, but I don’t always trust the responses relating to shades. They have abilities that can fox even the wily.

So began a conversational interaction with the spirit of a dead person from long ago. The communication was all done through my intuition of the responses – how I felt, the words and visions that came to me during our interaction, and my guesses as to what to ask next. I asked if he wanted to enter into the stone I had found, and through that he would travel with me on my journeys and live vicariously on my spiritual and magickal journey. In return, I asked that he share with me his magickal knowledge, so that I could progress more rapidly, by instinctively having access to his knowledge store. He agreed and I held the pebble out in my hands, sitting on his spot, and looking at his view. I shuddered a little as I felt the strength of his energy vortex making itself condense into the small pebble. The vortex passed downwards in front of me like a small reverse tornado, and I knew that I now had a powerful ally.

I dowsed if the transfer had been done, and the rods agreed that it had. As long as we were mutually benefiting the relationship will continue. And that was how I came to collect the spirit energy of Mr Richard Fitzalan of Clun in Shropshire. What we do next is still to unfold.

Gwas.