The Chronicles of Tralia - Book One: The Sorceress of the Five Crowns

By Anita Blakeman-Mills

Kathryn, a young successor to the power of light, comes home to Centra to take up her rightful place as the next sorceress of the Five Crowns, only to find five Tralian princes missing. One of them is her own brother, Kerwyn. Kathryn's journey to her new home is far from easy as she is chased by bandits for most of the way, but on the way back she is given the magic book of the previous sorcerers of Tralia and through it, Kathryn finds a way home by using one of the seven magic portals, which are hidden around Tralia. As she travels around Tralia, she must find the power within herself and stop the dark from spreading over the land. In the Southern Mountains, Kathryn must face a half elf, Medrith, a sorcerer of the dark, who wants to rule Tralia and has a fate worse than death in store for her, her family, and her friends. Therefore, the Five Crowns have to band together to help Kathryn fight to protect the Tralians from annihilation. But can she--as the dark has now a new weapon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Aug 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781528955645

Anita Blakeman-Mills

Anita started writing back in the early 1990s when she was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and her first novels have taken over twenty years to write. She loves writing and hopes it continues long into the future with plenty more adventures for her characters. She says, "Fibromyalgia does not hold me back; if I can, I will." Anita lives in Nottingham, Great Britain, and enjoys visiting new places, meeting new people and visiting family. At sixty-three, she feels that her life has never been more fulfilling as it is now.

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Ambassador

About the Author

Anita started writing back in the early 1990s when she was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and her first novels have taken over twenty years to write. She loves writing and hopes it continues long into the future with plenty more adventures for her characters. She says, Fibromyalgia does not hold me back; if I can, I will.

Anita lives in Nottingham, Great Britain, and enjoys visiting new places, meeting new people and visiting family. At sixty-three, she feels that her life has never been more fulfilling as it is now.

Dedications

To my family for their patience in listening to me as I read out the next chapter.

Copyright Information ©

Anita Blakeman-Mills (2020)

The right of Anita Blakeman-Mills to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781788785266 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781788785273 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781528955645 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2020)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

25 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5LQ

Acknowledgements

To my sister, Paula, for always being there. To my daughter, Diane, for all her hard work over the past years including her help and companionship.

The Map of Tralia

BOOK ONE

The Sorceress of

the Five Crowns

Tralia 510. The beginning.

Kathryn, a young successor to the power of light, comes home to Centra to take up her rightful place as the next Sorceress of Tralia, only to find five Tralian Princes missing. One of them is her own brother, Kerwyn. She is given the magic book of the previous Sorceress of Tralia and through it, Kathryn finds a way home by using one of the seven magic portals, which are hidden around Tralia.

Kathryn’s journey to her new home is far from easy, as she is chased by bandits for most of the way.

Now she must find the power within herself and stop the dark from spreading over the land.

In the Southern Mountains, Kathryn faces a half elf, Medrith, a Sorcerer of the Dark, who wants to rule Tralia and has a fate worse than death in store for her, her family and her friends. Therefore, the five crowns have to band together to help Kathryn to fight to protect the Tralians from annihilation.

*****

Chapter One

Going Home

*****

Kathryn had been sitting for the last hour looking out at the rolling, white, crested waves of the great ocean, that was sometimes blue and at others times a murky-grey, depending on the weather. It stretched as far as the eye could see and with only one small island a few miles away, it looked a lonely desolate place. A sailor’s life was a solitary life, but her life, she smiled, was definitely on dry land, then she turned on the cliff top and looked down at the village. What a contrast, she thought.

Today the sea is a murky-grey, but on this side, it’s a large sprawled out mass of various sized thatched roofs of mostly mottled-grey and gold on patches of greens, greys and browns, with many misshapen windows that glisten in the mid-morning sun, that were dotted along the valley floor.

She had been here all her life, but she knew something was about to change and this would be the last look at a place called Meadowholme, her home, where she had not only grown up, but had been happy.

Her thoughts were disturbed by a screech, a long drawn out noise, a warning. Kathryn placed her hand across her brow, shielding her eyes from the brightness of the sun as she looked up and saw two large, dark-feathered birds come at each other. One clearly ignoring the warning as claws outstretched before them, each determined to take the other out. An eagle and a falcon, both adults, both males and both experienced at protecting their territory.

After the first screech, the attack was silent, each concentrating on its next move. Circling in flight around an invisible pole, they darted in and out, trying to find an advantage. A strike from one caught its target across its left shoulder, causing the second to take a breather, its wings beating backwards as it moved out of the other’s path. Pressing its advantage, the slightly larger of the two, moved aggressively on. The eagle shot out its large, taloned claw and caught the second one another blow. The black falcon would have felt the skin tear, breaking the silence, he screamed in terror and pain as he spiralled down towards the ground. The eagle pursued its quarry catching it before it hit the ground about twenty feet from her. The eagle landed neatly and made a meal of its attacker. How sad, thought Kathryn, but that’s life and death for anyone and anything. There’s always something bigger and stronger than you and if you encroach on their territory, they will have you for its first meal of the day.

A shout made her look, Karen waved and Kathryn waved back before running down the hill to meet her also tall, blond friend. Karen was a year younger and her hair was very curly. Many people over the years have taken them as sisters though in truth, they were second cousins, but they were inseparable. Though at times, Kathryn dragged her friend into all sorts of odd adventures as they were growing up, now she wondered if she could drag her from her home and her beloved parents away to strangers.

Kathryn was thoughtful as together, arm in arm, they walked through the crowded market place, as Karen pointed out things on the stalls she had seen earlier, oohing and aahing as she went by. They passed the newly built well in the village square that Karen’s father had helped to build three summers ago and following the only road that led out of the village, they went home to Meadowholme Manor.

The feeling that she had felt all morning, she knew was about to become solid. There were two grey stallions tied to the hitching post in the stable yard that were being brushed down by one of the stable hands; Thomas smiled a greeting as they went by, then continued his work. The girls giggled as they saw his muscles ripple beneath his shirt, as he brushed the back of the darker horse.

The riders were expecting to leave soon and Kathryn had no doubt she would be going with them, but who were they?

They crossed the courtyard and Kathryn looked up at the four-towered, two-story house, with its six large, sash windows that seemed to glow in the midday sun, would she ever see the place again? She shivered before she entered the large, black door behind Karen.

Inside the oldest part of the manor, where the families of the Lords of Meadowholme had lived for centuries, was the present lord. Samuel, Karen’s father, who, along with two other men were waiting for them to enter. One man was seated facing the stone fireplace, in which the logs lay waiting for a light. The other stood behind the long bench near the large, bay window. Though neither of these were grey, they were not young either, but the elder one was more use to the open road. His skin was like leather, hard and had seen many a hot, Tralian sun. The younger was more inclined to be on his feet as proved by his continual movement; he certainly was not used to a saddle. A willow type of a man though not thin. Grey eyes and black hair and wears a lot of brown making his complexion darker.

Kathryn did not know them, yet the elder was very familiar.

Ah, Karen, Kathryn, the voice was Samuel’s, he was seated in his favourite chair behind the old, oak writing desk that stood on the other side of the room.

The two girls greeted him with a smile, before reaching him. Both kissed the broad shouldered, but almost bald, man, in his late fifties, who had got up to receive the greetings.

Kathryn, my dear, these men are from Centra. Samuel sat back down, as she turned to face the two men.

You’ve ridden far, she responded. Why?

This is Lord Mendin, your uncle and he is here to take you back, replied Samuel.

Then something is wrong! Kathryn felt the blood drain from her face.

Why would you say so, child? asked the high lord with concern.

He was tall, a darker blond than either Kathryn or Karen and was still good-featured for his age. He reminded her of the old picture she had of her father drawn by an old minstrel that had visited the manor many years before.

I have known things since childhood. Things no one else can explain—things I cannot explain, she replied solemnly.

There is much I need to speak of, he replied in the same way, his blue eyes held hers for a second or two, but within those seconds, she saw plenty including a deep sadness. He broke the contact and turned away.

But on the way, there is little time, he finished. Kathryn nodded and turned away. The girls left the men, as they went upstairs to find Lady Margaret.

Kathryn said her goodbyes and thanked the Lord and Lady for all they had done for her and most of all for allowing their daughter to accompany her back to the castle that would be their new home. Samuel nodded with tears in his eyes and hugged her closely one more time. She left Karen with her parents, as she went to collect her things.

They were on the road within the hour and Kathryn rode alongside Karen. Mendin was astonished; females he knew took more than a week to prepare and a wagonload of stuff usually said so, the girls just smiled. This was not the only time his late brother’s child would astonish him. Kathryn did not say that they had packed days before and only needed a small box. The other box had already left for the capital and other things they could buy in the capital later when and if she needed them.

By dusk, they had ridden far, well into the tall grassy hills and here they made camp. Within moments, there was a fire and a half-prepared rabbit waiting to be cooked.

Tell us, Uncle, asked Kathryn. She watched him as he set the stick to the rabbit and placed it near the fire, what’s wrong?

Over the last three ten-days things… He paused shaking his hands.

He is unsure of what to tell me, Kathryn thought. Let me, she softly interrupted, looking into the flames. Collwyn is worried, about what— she mused, more to herself than the other three as though in the fire’s light it was giving her answers, war, across the great sea, the Adamas of the Western Isles are causing trouble again? She looked at her uncle for conformation, he nodded, yet she thought there more still, his eyes saying more than words. She looked into his soft blue eyes before saying ‘more though’.

His astonishment did not register as she cocked her head on one side out of habit, he nodded again and she continued, staring back into the fire, Someone, someone of the dark, she added quickly as the thought just came. What is he up to? Cannot see, but why has the Sorceress not responded? Mendara is too ill! was the shocked reply.

Kathryn blinked hard. What? When? She had not seen or heard that her great aunt was even feeling unwell, though well into her nineties, though she wasn’t sure how old her great aunt really was, she must have her bad days. She had not spoken magically to Mendara for a ten-day, but why hadn’t she told her? She shook her head.

Five days, replied Mendin, her handmaidens found her in her bedroom, unable to move, but there was no mark, no reason for her illness. It’s very strange, his voice trailed off.

Magic! Kathryn hissed.

Mendin nodded his head sadly. That is what is suspected, he confirmed.

And where is she now? Who is to replace her? she asked concerned, more for her aunt and brother than for herself.

She is at home, resting, and you are! came the reply as he held out a book.

Kathryn’s eyes widen as she replied, Me! She exclaimed, But I have very little magic, and only to heal.

At the moment, but Mendara weakens fast. There can only be one ‘Sorceress of the five crowns’ at any given time, but as she weakens, he stopped and paused for a moment, there is not much time, he told her.

Kathryn reached out and with a shaky hand, she took the book from him. What’s this? she asked.

It was the Lady Mendara’s; she sent it to you, it’s the Book of Light! he replied.

Kathryn opened the silver-edged, blue book by the silver clasp, but the pages were blank, she gave a wan smile before raising it to her lips and blew gentle across the first page. One thing her aunt had taught her.

Slowly, words began to appear, yet Karen, leaning over Kathryn’s shoulder could not recognise them. Old Centran, Kathryn supplied to her enquiry.

You can read that? Karen asked, and asked when had her friend learnt the old dead language that looked more squiggles than words.

Do you remember Boadwyn? Kathryn asked.

That old minstrel, Karen’s grey eyes widened, as she smiled in memory.

Kathryn nodded.

That must be ten years or more and he only stayed a couple of weeks. Karen was impressed.

Another week and three days to be precise, but long enough, while I was in fever, he came and read to me for a week. I asked him to teach me that book of Centran stories and he did.

Kathryn grinned at her blonde-haired friend and Karen laughed, And here I thought you just liked the sound of his gravelly voice.

I did, Kathryn laughed too.

OK, Miss Smarty, what does it say?

Mendin turned the rabbit on the make shift spit and listened with half an ear. Joseph, his companion saw to the horses, but he was listening too.

The book, continued Kathryn, or rather Mendara, is telling me of the old ways. How things used to be and of those who fought the dark. Those that won or lost, passing their knowledge and the lore down to the next in line. There are spells and recipes to help heal the wounded and the sick. She quickly ran through the book, but turning the pages carefully.

There isn’t one! she exclaimed with surprise.

One what? asked Karen puzzled.

A quicker way to get us back to the capital, Kathryn replied softly.

The man behind her, almost choked as he heard her words.

Kathryn cocked her head as she looked at the Mendin’s travelling companion. Is there a problem, Master Joseph? she asked.

No, Milady, he replied, shaking his head.

You have a question then?

The man hesitated, but at Kathryn’s insistence, he spoke. What other way is there, Milady? he said patting the horse.

You mean travel? Kathryn’s blue eyes twinkled as the man nodded.

Well, if I knew the spell, we could fly. The man’s eyes bulged in their sockets. Or, Kathryn continued, knowing the man had seen little magic, we could use a portal. That is quicker and easier. But I don’t know where to find one.

The man had started to shake; Mendin gave a cough, then when Kathryn looked, he gave her a warning stare and she quickly apologised. Magic, Master Joseph is an age-old force, that’s he is as powerful as the wind, as quick as lightning and as deadly as that crossbow, that my uncle carries and should be respected at all times. It is neither good nor evil, only the user is either. It should be used for good to help all of mankind, yet as you know, more use it for the good of the dark one and themselves.

Her three companions made the sign of the goddess as though by talking about the dark and of Shayde, that it could harm them. Kathryn smiled. Come, there is nothing to fear. The dark one is not near and cannot harm you as you know, it takes a man.

Aye, one possessed, put in Medin sharply.

Maybe, Uncle, but still a man nonetheless, now let’s eat, the rabbit looks ready.

Later, the girls slept, while Mendin took first watch. He sat close by looking at his niece over the dying embers of the fire and remembered how thrilled his elder brother, Richard, had been when Kathryn had been born. Three sons he said and not one I can hold for long, now a girl. They had laughed as he refused to give her to the wet nurse, pulling gently at the baby, until his wife had reproved him and he had relented. They broke a bottle open and stayed in the nursery all that afternoon. It had been the last time he had been with his brother and sister-in-law before they had died.

A coach accident, he had been told, but no one could say how. For weeks, he questioned, shouted and even bullied people for answers, but he got no further than young Collwyn had. Kathryn had been in the castle, with her nurse, so was uninjured. He remembered he had been the one that had taken her to Lord Samuel, who himself had just become a father and though the new king protested, Medin knew it was for the best, though it had been Mendara’s suggestion. When he returned, he made his home at the castle and watched over his nephews until Kerwyn the youngest, was eighteen, he then went back on the road watching and listening as he visited all the watchtowers in Tralia. He looked over at Joseph and wondered what he would have done if he had not asked him to come along. Very lonely, he thought and shook his head.

For the next four bells, he sat and listened to the wind in the grasses as he mused away the time in remembering. Over the years, he had missed his brothers more. Richard had been older by two years but they had been inseparable along with Robert, who now lived in Sommerland. Though he mused, he was alert to anything out of the normal night sounds.

Joseph took over for the second watch and stirred up the fire as his Lord settled down. Nothing disturbed his thoughts either and he kept them well away from magic.

By dawn, they were on the road again.

At noon, they walked the horses and Kathryn saw the change in her uncle. There was something, she could not fathom out. Something that he was not telling her. Uncle? she asked lightly.

Kathryn? he replied in the same tone climbing back into the saddle.

Tell me more, she requested, as she followed his action. You tell me, he grinned.

You hide something behind your smile, she frowned before turning her horse in his path. She suddenly she saw his alertness.

Kathryn, he urged, keep riding.

Kathryn knew the tone, an order; she obeyed, but released her senses to scan the surrounding area. Something she had been able do since childhood. There were five