A Tale of Magic: The Thrumpkin

By Eizabeth Yourston

For a century, in the Scottish Kingdom of Balfour, the practice of magic has been outlawed. Anyone caught doing magic is banished to live in darkness by King Phillip. That is until his daughter, Princess Alyssa, is brought before him.

What happens next is all part of an ancient prophesy that is about to be fulfilled.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eizabeth Yourston
• Release date: Nov 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311433657

Eizabeth Yourston

Elizabeth Yourston was born in California. At a young age her family moved to southern Oregon. While her children were young, she would entertain them with stories she imagined. Over the years, they began to encourage her to write them down. “A Tale of Magic: The Thrumpkin” is her first novel.

Book preview

A Tale of Magic

The Thrumpkin

By Elizabeth Yourston

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

A Tale of Magic

The Thrumpkin

Copyright © 2013 by Elizabeth Yourston

Cover Graphics by Pam Bainbridge-Cowan

ISBN: 9781311433657

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

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To my loving husband,

Douglas David Yourston,

for all of his support, love,

help and encouragement.

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Acknowledgements

With heartfelt appreciation to James M. McCracken,

without his help none of this would have been possible;

to my sons David Fussell and Michael Fussell

who for years wanted me to write a book;

and to Isabel Yourston, Janet Langland, Kimm Wallace,

Chad Donahue and Joann Donahue

for their encouragement and support.

****

Prologue

In the enchanted Kingdom of Balfour on the eastern shores of Caledonia, in the shadow of Sidh Chailleann, magic was forgotten. Nearly a century ago the Balfourians put away their objects of magic and ceased its practice out of fear of The Prophesy of the Fairy King of Sidh Chailleann. They returned to their ancient ways of farming and raising sheep and other livestock. Peace returned to their land.

With the passing of time the exact words of The Prophesy were lost, muddled with the wild ideas of the one retelling it. For the most part, The Prophesy became a fable parents told their disobedient children as a way to keep them in line. Be good or the evil Thrumpkin will come at night and steal you away! He will boil you and eat you for his supper! they would warn and it worked.

One day, while the sun was high over Sidh Chailleann, a young Queen walked alone in her garden admiring her beautiful flowers. She was heavy with child and very tired. She sat down on her wooden bench to rest her weary back. Seeing a strange clover leaf among the blades of green grass, she picked it. She smiled at its unusual four leaves and thought, how odd. Taking a deep breath she put her hand on her round stomach. The warmth of the sun felt good against her pale cheeks. She closed her eyes for just a moment. Suddenly there was a fluttering like that of a bird nearby. She opened her eyes and gave a start.

Fear not fair Queen Elise, I come in peace.

Elise opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out. There in front of her, just out of arm’s reach, hovered a tiny man no bigger than a Chaffinch with russet-colored wings like those of a butterfly. The only thing he wore was a crown made from a vine with tiny, delicate green leaves.

Surely I must be dreaming, Elise said finding her voice.

This is no dream, the tiny winged man answered.

Who are you?

My name is Agaricstaff, King of the Fairies. I have come to let you know that the child you carry is special and destined to do great things. She is to be the one spoken of in The Prophesy.

The Prophesy? What prophesy? Your words are strange little King.

Do not tell me the people have forgotten The Prophesy?

I know of no such thing. Please tell me, what is this of which you speak?

"The Prophesy was uttered by my grandfather to the King of Balfour a hundred and seventy-six years ago. The time for the fulfillment draws near. The Prophesy stated:

‘In the reign of the seventh king of Balfour, a score and a year from the day the earth shook; one will rise up from the ashes of his father. Handsome and strong he will become, drawing many people to himself. Power will be his hunger and greed his insatiable thirst. In his quest to quench both many will lie down but he will not be satisfied.

‘In those days, one will exist who will possess great power. That one shall wound him but not without great cost to himself.

‘In darkness the Thrumpkin will come to dwell. No longer will he see the light of the sun. In captivity he will grow strong.

‘Five score and fourteen years a princess shall rise from the throne of her father. Beautiful and fair she will come to be, drawing her power from the sun. She will turn the Thrumpkin’s head. After half a half-score like a goat to the slaughter she will unknowingly lead him. He will lie down and not get up but he will not be left without an heir.

‘That one will be born of darkness and light. She will make amends for the error of her father and peace at last shall exist between the Kingdom of the Black Thorn and Balfour Kingdom.’"

Elise stared at the fairy king while she turned her face toward the sun.

You shall name the child Alyssa for it is by her that the Thrumpkin’s madness will come to its end.

Elise was dumbfounded. She looked at her stomach and then back at Agaricstaff.

How do you—

Just then the baby moved inside her. She gasped and grabbed her stomach. The clover slipped from her fingers. The fairy king vanished. Elise cried out for her maidservant as the pangs of birth began.

Chapter One

Dust bellowed behind the royal carriage while it sped along the narrow dirt road that cut through the great forest between the village and the castle of Balfour. Two men on horses rode in front of the carriage and two more, unlucky souls, followed behind. Their duty: to bring the Princess and Prince back to the castle.

Princess Alyssa grabbed for anything she could while she bounced around on the plush velvet seat inside the carriage.

Slow down! she yelled at the driver.

Sorry Your Highness, but my instructions were to get you home as fast as I can. I’m only obeying orders.

Did your orders include shaking me to death?

The driver didn’t answer her. He was used to hearing her barbs having taken her to and from the village school house for the past eleven years. A girl in school, let alone in school past the age of thirteen, was something unheard of by most of the realm but the King’s daughter was to have a proper education. At least that was what the King ordered.

Suddenly darkness enveloped the carriage. The horses slowed to a steady trot. The riders in the front and back closed in, keeping their eyes wide open and searching the shadows while they kept pace. An eerie silence surrounded them. Even the rattle from the carriage’s wheels silenced. Princess Alyssa stuck her head through the window opening of the carriage.

Why have we slowed? she asked though she already knew the answer. She just wanted to hear the brave men squirm.

We are in Blackthorn Forest, Your Highness, the driver answered in a near whisper. Please, keep your voice down.

Honestly, in all the years I have passed this way, never once have I seen this Thrumpkin person.

I should hope you never do, Your Highness.

Princess Alyssa laughed out loud. Oh Thrumpkin, come out, come out where ever you are!

Hush, Your Highness! the driver snapped. Don’t taunt him. He is an evil creature.

Princess Alyssa laughed even harder. You call yourselves brave and yet still believe in an old children’s story? What would my father say?

Aye, it’s no mere child’s story, the driver warned. You should be careful.

Princess Alyssa sat back in her seat. She looked at her eight year old, brother, Prince Eric seated across from her, facing the back of the carriage. Even in the dark she could see his blue eyes were wide with fear. His hands gripped the small bar beside the door to keep himself in his seat.

Better be a good little boy, Eric, she warned with a devilish grin. Or the Thrumpkin will come and eat you! When Eric whimpered, she laughed. Come on, you don’t believe all that nonsense do you?

It’s true, Eric whispered.

It couldn’t possibly be, Alyssa scoffed. If it were, he would have to be over a hundred years old. He’d have no teeth. He could only gum you to death. Again she laughed loudly.

Light gradually filled the carriage and the horses resumed their run. The tall trees of the forest gave way to lush green meadows dotted with pink and purple wild fuchsias, the occasional deep red hydrangea bush and wild roses. The afternoon sun was just above the snowcapped Sidh Chailleann to the west. Alyssa knew they were getting near the castle.

You’re going to be in so much trouble, Eric taunted finding his courage again.

Oh, shut up!

Schoolmaster Kincaid gave the driver a message for mother and father. You’re going to be in trouble. You’re going to be in trouble, Eric began to chant.

Shut up, I say! Alyssa screamed.

The carriage slowed to a smooth stop at the foot of the stairs leading to the front doors. The coachman opened the door and held out his hand to assist the Princess. She ignored him and leapt down.

Where’s that letter Schoolmaster Kincaid gave you? she demanded of the driver.

It is right here.

Give it to me! she ordered in a shrill scream.

I’m afraid I cannot. I was given strict orders by the schoolmaster to see to it this was delivered to His Highness. Henderson, he called the butler over.

Yes? Henderson said standing with his back rigidly straight and his thin lips pursed. His once dark brown hair had grown white in his years of service to the King and Queen of Balfour.

Please deliver this to His Highness at once. It is from the schoolmaster. It is urgent.

Right away, Henderson answered with a nod and took the sealed envelope.

No! Alyssa screamed and chased up the steps after the butler.

Eric stepped from the carriage. He slung his school books that were tied together with a leather strap over his shoulder and laughed at his sister. He waved the driver off before heading up the front steps.

Alyssa followed Henderson across the main hall toward the sitting room doors on the right. When they reached the doors, Henderson turned around and faced the Princess.

Wait here, he said.

Please don’t, Alyssa begged and tried her best to squeeze out a tear or two for effect.

Sorry, Your Highness, he answered and shook his head. Not this time.

He opened the heavy, ornately carved, wooden doors and let himself into the sitting room. He closed the doors behind him. Alyssa was alone in the main hall.

Oh! she shrieked clenching her fists and gritting her teeth. She spun around and began to pace. This wasn’t the first time Schoolmaster Kincaid sent a letter home to her parents. Her efforts to explain that it wasn’t her fault the other schoolchildren were stupid and that she was only expressing her opinions did not have the desired effect on either of her parents. Her mother reminded her that it wasn’t ladylike for her to voice her opinions to men even if they were still boys. For her punishment, her father made her scrub the main hall floor and help in the kitchen for a week. He warned her if it happened again she would not like what was coming to her. The more she fretted, the faster she paced.

The large carved wooden doors opened. Princess Alyssa took a deep breath then marched into her parents’ sitting room avoiding any eye contact with Henderson. The ten foot high walls were covered in polished wooden panels. Gold framed paintings of people she had never met and places she had never been hung on the wall around the stone fireplace. A settee and low table sat facing the wall of windows that overlooked the back garden. Royal purple velvet drapes hung between the four large paned windows and in the corners. On the wall behind the settee hung a large portrait of Alyssa’s great-great-grandfather, The Hermit King, as he was known.

Alyssa’s mother, Queen Elise, sat on the settee with her embroidery hoop in hand. King Phillip stood by the fireplace, his lit pipe in one hand, the letter in the other.

Father—

The King raised his hand, silencing her.

Alyssa, what are we to do with you? he said shaking his head.

Do? Do? Alyssa said masking her fear with anger. You make it sound as if I did something wrong.

Haven’t you? King Phillip asked holding up the letter.

Why is it wrong for a girl to voice her thoughts on matters when they are clearly superior to the mindless twaddle of those stupid little boys?

Now, now, Alyssa, her mother said and shook her head.

Voicing your opinion is one thing. Challenging boys to a fist fight in the school yard is clearly another. You aren’t some common peasant. You are the firstborn daughter of a king.

For all the good that does me, Alyssa said under her breath but loud enough for her parents to hear.

Alyssa, darling, you are sixteen. You need to start acting like a lady, her mother said.

Why? Alyssa snapped. It’s not like I’m ever going to be Queen. You and father have made that perfectly clear. Eric is next in line for the throne even though he is eight years younger than I. So what is there for me?

You are a princess, dear, her mother answered.

Ha! A princess means nothing. Why can’t I be Queen?

That’s not the way it works! her father snapped. It was obvious he was beginning to lose his temper with her.

You are the King. You don’t have to follow the rules. You make them.

Before the words were out of her mouth, the King crossed the room and without any warning struck her across the face causing her head to recoil. Alyssa quickly put her hand over her reddening cheek, willing the tears in her big brown eyes back into their ducts.

I hate you! I wish you weren’t my father!

Before the king could say another word, Alyssa turned and ran out of the room. She started up the grand staircase but stopped when she spotted Eric peeking