My Fantasy Story – Part 18, Sorry it’s Late

I have been posting instalments of the Fantasy story I wrote about 17 years ago every Sunday and Wednesday afternoons. Except last Sundays was posted on Monday and this is now Wednesday’s instalment. I apologise for the delay.

Well better late than never, here is the next part.

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 Eighteen

In the sheltered little Savarian town of Hardensford, Lara and her group were encamped. The weather had turned foul. Strong winds and torrential rain had made travelling impossible. The town was situated on the main highway from the City of Savarias, now a day’s ride to the South and the District of Albana still at least a day’s ride North. The highway had once been paved with slabs of stone but had been damaged in the Civil war as part of the Red Army’s strategy of preventing the Imperial troops from being able to move quickly. The fact that the road had not yet been rebuilt demonstrated how important the District of Savarias was to the new regime. The torrential rain had turned the road into a number of stone islands between patches of mud. For two days the wind had howled, the rain had fallen and the lightning had stuck. The towns weathermen predicted that it would last for another five days. The weathermen, with their collection of sayings and superstitions were about as reliable as a cockerel in the hen-coop, but it looked like this time they were right. The town of Hardensford had become their prison. It seemed like it would have been a pleasant town in kinder weather. It had developed as the meeting place of the farms in the area to gather and sell their wares and also it was a stopping point for merchants travelling between the City of Savarias and the more lucrative markets to the North. It was also one of the places you could usually cross the River Arden, when the ford wasn’t completely flooded as was currently the case. They were trapped in Hardensford until either the river levels fell enough to use the ford or the roads dried up enough to travel upriver to the village of Coltswood, about five miles away, which had a ferry. 

Continue reading My Fantasy Story – Part 18, Sorry it’s Late