Category Archives: Fantasy

Lawrence Harding             “Come in, come in. All are welcome in the House of God.”             Marcellus smiled thinly at the elderly verger who had spotted him standing awkwardly at the entrance to the antechapel. Father Bartholomew had told him someone would be there to invite him in, and though the invitation had been announcedContinue reading “To Need the Blood”

Lawrence Harding             “Carefully,” replied Zethael, after the class had pondered the question.             “Hmm. I suppose that is technically correct,” mused Master Aristophanius as he floated at the front of the room. He drifted forward between the rows of desks, propelling his spherical body of one set of wings, tucking the other sets behindContinue reading “Lessons in Communication”

Lawrence Harding                 “That has to be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” breathed Adrian.                 And he meant it. The animal in the carry-case was about the size of a football, and about as spherical. It seemed to be made entirely of fluff, the patterns mottling its pale fur with browns and greys andContinue reading “The Jekushan”

Lawrence Harding Kristan Battlebane, Hero of the Seventeen Battles, Blight of Nations, Chosen of the Emperor was welcomed back from campaign, as always, in utter splendour. As he approached the Imperial Palace, down an avenue lined with bowing spectators who treated him as a god, he looked the part. His dark armour was polished untilContinue reading “In the Eyes of Babes”

Lawrence Harding                 “What,” asked Gradan in mild horror, “is that?” He half-glowered, half-squinted at his plate – his eyesight wasn’t what it used to be, but the old barbarian wouldn’t admit it. He could still swing an axe, and that’s what counted.                 “It’s a devilled bejala egg on a bed of pureed beanContinue reading “For Old Times’ Sake”

Lawrence Harding The preacher wasn’t much to look at. He was small, and slightly stooped. His hair was thinning, and his coat was just teetering over the edge between well-loved and threadbare. Yet the congregation was rapt. There was a certain gleam in his eye, an assuredness in the way he gripped his makeshift pulpitContinue reading “Actions Speak Louder”

Lawrence Harding When Brother Stycanthus had been assigned to the monastery of Krysada in Sansbad, he ahd been baffled. He had never heard of the place. As far as he knew, there was nothing in Sansbad but swamps.                 When his transport – one cart in a convoy carrying sacks of dried flowers – reachedContinue reading “A Whiff of Heaven”

Lawrence Harding There was nothing to complain about in Lower Settonfield. Life was calm and peaceful. No one really had any major problems. Bad weather passed them by. The villagers would pat themselves on the back at the thought that they lived there, knowing they were lucky indeed. No, there was nothing to complain aboutContinue reading “Mrs Montgomery”

Lawrence Harding The Storm howled outside. Salvoes of rain battered the roof. The walls complained loudly, creaking and groaning as gusts tore at them. Isbara didn’t hear it, though. Nor did the men labouring in the ancient, leaking hangar. The Storm had been raging for decades. It was part of their world, and had fadedContinue reading “The Storm and the Creation”

Lawrence Harding So much power, in such small things.                 Little cubes, of bone and wood, decorated with dots, being tossed around in a pit as men roared, laughed, groaned and sobbed. It was something most of the gods couldn’t understand. It seemed so trivial, pathetic even, that such little things could mean so much.Continue reading “Aleya, and Power”