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Discover weekly, the best short stories

Looking for a steady supply of historical fiction short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.

150+ Historical fiction Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Whether you’re looking to step back into ancient civilizations, the 19th-century, or anywhere in between, our collection of historical fiction stories is here to keep you riveted.

Historical fiction Short Stories – Page 3 of 10

The Woman and the Tree

Submitted to Contest #319

The Woman and the Tree by Joshua James Pack I see the man approach the hill that has long given me importance. It nowgives him a sort of slow inevitable pace. I see the ax sitting over his shoulder. I see his callused hands, which confirm my grim suspicions. He steps over my protruding roots that have long brought me nutrients and strength. He lowers his weapon and swings it back and forth as he trudges along. Like a pendulum in a clock it swings, counting down the minutes, the seconds until my end. I look around at the former forest that wa...

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Nell Hardwick and the Ambush near Aldbourne Chase, 18th September 1643

Submitted to Contest #319

[Content warning: Violence, profanity and lots of mud]On 5th September the Royalist siege of Gloucester was lifted by the Earl of Essex and his army and the grateful citizens showered them, including Nell, her husband Bill and their comrades in the London Trayned Bandes with bread, cheese and ale, which more than made up for the short commons they’d been forced to endure on their march to the city. With the siege raised, it had been time to march back home to London. The Londoners had insisted, and the Earl of Essex had no choice but to cave...

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Character Examined

Submitted to Contest #319

Note: Contains references to death, illness, hunger, and desecration. The point of the headland was a stone blade honed by the wind. It rose out of the Bass Strait, unbroken and absolute. Upon its crown stood the lighthouse.In the mornings the spray climbed to its windows and left a crust of salt. Gulls wheeled east and west, screaming thinly to the wind. Below the cliff, the water broke into a colourless foam against a reef.The lighthouse stood indifferent to it all. Its walls sweated brine in winter and glared pale in summer. To those asho...

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The Red Girl

Submitted to Contest #319

The first I saw of her was the glint of red hair sparkling against the setting sun. The second I saw of her was the sparkle of steel against the full moon’s light. I watched her through the bush in the dead of the night. The birds had finished the last of their songs and had begun their slumber. She had laid her cloak on a cushion of leaves, taking refuge in the array of bushes and heavy trees in my home. She was laying on her back, on top of her cloak. I barred my teeth seeing the heavy grey fur lining of the garb. The girl gripped the ...

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For never was a story of more Daniel

Submitted to Contest #319

Act I: One Little QuestionThe chipped mug. That's where you'd say it started.She told him not to put it in the dishwasher.And he, of course, did.Ah, but no.That’s not where it started.It started with me.One little message. Anonymous. Discreet. Just enough venom to taste —Not poison. Just… suggestion.“You sure he’s not seeing her again?”Seven words. That’s all.I even made the spelling slightly off, so it wouldn’t look too professional.The sender ID? Blank. The number? Untraceable. The delivery? Perfect.I sent it while Elise was in line at the...

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Take Me Away.......Not Here!

Submitted to Contest #318

Waking up in an unfamiliar place is disconcerting to say the least, but waking up in the middle of nowhere is worse. Looking around, all I can see is grasslands, not even a furry creature. That is until I hear a noise coming from my left. Turning my head suddenly my hair obscures my vision for a moment. As it falls back down, I see several large dogs running right at me, barking. I crawl backwards away from them. I am not fast enough, they surround me easily. They are still barking although it doesn’t seem like they are threatening me or wa...

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For a few turnips

Submitted to Contest #318

“Hear that metal sing!” Cried Matthew as his son and pride Henry brought down his hammer on the white-hot iron, sending a molten hail of sparks through the muggy June air. He was in his fourth year of apprenticeship to his father, and the hard work had put lean muscle on him, much to the delight of the village girls. Often finding every excuse to come by bringing refreshments and praise. All if which Henry took with an abashed naivety that came with early adolescence and a firm clap on the back from his father. Who would often slip him a pen...

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The Lioness at the Capitol

Submitted to Contest #318

The Lioness at the Capitol When Rome conspired against Caesar, it was his wife who became the lioness. In this reimagining of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, Calpurnia refuses to remain the silenced, fearful wife history remembers. When her ominous dream foretells Caesar’s death, she dons disguise and dagger, stepping into the Senate itself to confront betrayal and fate. Fierce as a lioness, she claims her place in Rome’s story — and in her husband’s destiny. My name is Calpurnia, though all the world doth know me as the wife of Gaius Julius Ca...

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Darkness

Submitted to Contest #318

How in the hell had this happened? Gustov thought. This unbelievable place is a wax museum or hellhole representing the Middle Ages! Deep in some castle's dungeon. It couldn’t be real; it had to be an imagined punishment place straight out of the bowls of Hades or Hell! It definitely wasn’t Pergutory, where he’d be given a second chance; there were no more opportunities here—this was it. The end! Final judgement! Final recogning! Terminated! Why am I here?It was a false imprisonment, too, like an innocent man days away from a neck-stretching...

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Nell Hardwick and the Confrontation at Turnham Green-13th November 1642

Submitted to Contest #318

13th November is Saint Quintian's Day. It is also Nell’s wedding anniversary, her and Bill Hardwick's very first. She is still getting used to being called, ‘Mistress Hardwick’, rather than ‘Miss Fuller, although truth be told, it was rarely that and usually ‘Oi! Wench!’ by the newer punters for her husband’s ferry service across the River between Southwark and The City. It was a brisk trade, from those that could not countenance the slew of carriages and carts that slowed the crossing of London Bridge to a crawl, even if Bill’s fare was a...

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The Prince's Shadow

Submitted to Contest #318

Sometime after the British India Company started advancing its control across India, there lived a young nawab of the Mughal court. He was a prince out of the fairy tales; tall and handsome, fair-skinned and with mustaches that gave him the look of a lion. A proper Singh! He threw lavish parties, entertaining British envoys to the many pleasures of his palace in Rajputana. But one thing he never did was hunt tigers. Shikar was the sport of princes, and many British officers attempted to convince our prince to contribute to participate. ...

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3/30/81

Submitted to Contest #317

Note: this story takes place in a timeline where the assassination attempt on Ronald Regean was successful. September 5th, 2039 Ronald Reagan has always been a fascination of mine. After spending so much of my time studying him, I believe he would have gone on to be a very successful president. If he wasn’t shot in 1981, things would be different now, and things would be better. I have believed this for a long time, but obviously there isn't really much way for me to find out. I wasn’t there, and I can’t change the past. Or so I thought. One...

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The Andy Beckett Show

Submitted to Contest #318

Andy Beckett was once the King of the Late Night with the top-rated variety shows of the late 1950s and early 1960s. Some of the best talent walked onto his show over the ten years he had on air. Many people could still recall some of the memorable moments he had in front of a live audience that included a young senator from Massachusetts who was running for president and a foul mouth comedian named Lenny Bruce. In his final season, he had a young kid from Seattle who would play at Woodstock before he passed away at age twenty-seven. One t...

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Matthew (Part 2)

Submitted to Contest #317

5:6 I only know pictures. Your eyes open like a book. The kind of book that's got hard covers. The one that's so big you have to sit it on a table to read it. It's delicious. It uses all the words found in any dictionary but for some reason when you read them in this book they seem to have deeper meaning. The pages are silky. The margins are two fingers deep. The letters are blackberry black. They're blacker than any letters you've ever seen before. Somehow the blackness gives emotion to the story you're telling. It's like the color of a cav...

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Dreams aren't Cold

Submitted to Contest #317

It was a day like any other in the early summer. After lunch my father would sit in his large armchair by the window, open book in hand, my mother still busying herself in the kitchen. And I was bored. That was the day I first met Charlotte. My memory of that is so vivid it feels like I could re-visit it, if I closed my eyes long enough. I had fallen asleep on the living room couch one sunny afternoon and woken up in a small garden, between strawberry plants. The sun was still bright in the sky and I needed a moment for my eyes to adjust and...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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