My Fantasy Story – Part 10

This is the next instalment of the fantasy story I wrote many years ago. This is a shorter excerpt today. I will post the next part over the weekend. 

I still haven’t got a title for it, so if you can think of a good one, let me know in the comments. 🙂 
If you would like to read it from the start, this is the first part:

https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2018/05/26/a-fantasy-tale-part-one/

 

Part Ten

It was with great anticipation that Lara and her party arrived at the walled City of Savarias. The huge walls of grey limestone towered above them as their coach approached the gates. It was an hour after nightfall and so the gates were firmly shut. 

A small door in the left gate opened and a contingent of guards marched towards them carrying pikes with pennants flying in the yellow and black colours of the City. The flag of Savarias flew on the walls above them, a rearing black stallion on a golden-yellow background. 

“Halt, who goes there?” came the time-honoured question.

“The Ladies, Lara Boadrah and Bethra Cobannryc with their companions travelling from Argor City to Albana. They seek entry into this City to find shelter” Replied Piotr in his clear baritone. 

“Please alight from your coach and show yourselves” Came the sceptical response.

Everyone descended from the coach to the cold stone cobbles and lined up along the road. As Augustus stepped down from the coach, there was a ripple of disturbance among the guards and the sergeant cried out “A Mage, Quick.”

The pikemen then lowered their pikes so that their little group were surrounded by a ring of gleaming steel.

Lara indignantly and bravely asked “What is the meaning of this? I am Governor Boadrah’s daughter.”

The Sergeant replied, impudently “Your father has no jurisdiction here and in flagrant disregard for our customs you were travelling with a Mage! You will come with us.”

Piotr Drake was dragged off the coach and pushed into their circle. A guardsman took his place and grabbed the reins.

“March!” The sergeant gave the order and they all moved towards the now opened city gates as they were escorted into the City of Savarias.

 

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 20/June/2018

 

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/06/20/anticipation/

 

 

The Quirky Mother’s Tale – A sequel

Word Prompt: Anticipation

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/06/20/anticipation/

 

Yesterday I wrote a light-hearted story called ‘An Unconventional Upbringing’. It was the story of a young child brought up in a strange atmosphere of camaraderie but without convention.

See here to read it:

https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2018/06/19/multiple-word-prompt-story-an-unconventional-upbringing/

Well the Britchy One wanted some more. You know you can’t say no to the Britchy one, right?

http://bitchininthekitchendotorg.wordpress.com/

So, I thought I would write the story of the quirky mum. Where there’s light, there’s dark, so prepare yourself for the dark. Without further anticipation, here is the tale.

FOWC with Fandango — Almost

Almost

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/06/20/a-new-daily-post-word-prompt-june-20th-2018-word-wrangle/

Wrangle

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/06/20/three-things-challenge-20-june-2018/

Sandal, Sea Horse, Polar Ice Caps.

https://aaamazingphoenix.wordpress.com/2018/06/20/summer-and-other-daily-prompts-for-20-jun-2018/

Summer

The Quirky Mother’s Tale 

I’ve been called many things in my time. A slut, a harlot, a drunk and the most painful of all, an unfit mother. Well let me tell you how it feels to be me, shall I?

I was born into a strict household. My mother gave birth to me but never really loved me. She was just having me because she was carrying out her wifely duties and her husband, my father, took his rights very seriously. Every night. I don’t remember my Father very clearly but he never laughed or smiled. Neither did my Mother. It was a cold, uncaring atmosphere to grow up in. When my Father died, my Mother had very little money but she married a cousin just to keep a roof over our heads. Now I remember my Stepfather all too clearly. I only wish I could forget. My favourite drink of bourbon can only blot him out briefly. I was only fourteen when it started. My Mother was no longer so keen to perform her wifely duties and she was looking rather haggard after all the years of physical abuse my Father had put her through. So, my Stepfather started to sneak into my room at night. At first, he was gentle and he just touched me. He would make me touch him too. No, please excuse me, I won’t go into any of the gruesome details. It isn’t fit for decent ears.

Continue reading The Quirky Mother’s Tale – A sequel