The Beginning of the Prophecy of the New Age

By Nicole Birk

Allanna, Princess of Santra, has it all: five best friends who support her every belief, the life of a princess. Ignoring her fathers courts grumbling, Allanna has rebelliously grown up riding warhorses, wearing mens pants, and practicing swordcraft. Her friends are right behind her: Tempar, almost her match in swordplay; quiet Ratisha, who follows Tempars every wish; boisterous Megan, who is outspoken in every way; passive Sasha, who knows exactly what she wants and who she is; and silent Amelia, quiet but always there. Allanna has several rules that she is very positive about. She is very, very against all types of bonds. Though her position as a princess bonds her to her country, Santra, she doesnt seem to care. The bonds she is most vehemently against are people treating her likeand calling hera lady, expecting marriage and children. She would almost rather die than have these things tie her down. Allannas five friends have never objected to this belief, and so Allanna never thought of it. But she begins to grow wary when Tempar objects to her keeping some men from courting Sasha and Amelia. But still, she never thinks that Tempar would ever relate it to her. And so when, one day after swords practice, Tempar proposes to her, Allanna panics. She flees, along with Megan, Sasha, and Amelia, heading north, away from Santran civilization. But Tempar will stop at nothing to have Allanna at his side, and she soon learns the hard way that in order to save Santra and the rest of FalTarra from destruction, she must be prepared to take her throne backif she can.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 13, 2010
• ISBN: 9781453546673

Nicole Birk

Ever since reading her first book in the first grade, Nicole Birk has loved books and, in particular, fantasy fiction. She lives with her dad in Whitefish, Montana, and plans to continue a career as a writer, and begin a career as a pilot.

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Copyright © 2010 by Nicole Birk.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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80459

Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great,

some achieve greatness,

and some have greatness thrust upon them.

—William Shakespeare

This book is dedicated to

Leah, Doniell, Ben, and Tom

Fal'Tarra Map.jpg

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Pronunciation of Names and Cities and the Old Tongue

PROLOGUE

Question: what do children remember of their early lives? Answer: their favorite moments, of course.

—The Raising of a Child, Santran Keep Royal Library

My memory begins way back when I was three. I’m seventeen now, so that was a long time ago.

*     *     *

I was bored, always cooped up in the nursery. I have always been like that. I used to get out to play whenever I could, but I couldn’t stay out long, or they’d notice I was gone. And they noticed I was gone one time too many.

I had gone off to see the horses. There had been a new foal, and I wanted to see it. I searched all around the stables—they were so big back then!

Though I searched, I just couldn’t find the horses I was searching for. I knew that they would come search for me, but I was your average stubborn kid back then, and I put that out of my head quickly. I continued to search, but so much time went by that I began to look anxiously outside at the cold, gray sky.

I was ready to give up finding the happy young pair when I noticed a stall I had not noticed before. It was larger than the rest, embossed with a gold nameplate I could not yet read.

Quickly I peered through the crack between the stone walls and bronze door, and saw a beautiful mare quietly dozing in her stall. She was a great large black horse, obviously a prize dam from my father, the good King Destion. Since he had the door and the nameplate specifically engraved for her, I could tell she was important.

Though the stall was not the only of its kind, I climbed in to join her. With a snort, she woke up and reared her head over me. Nostrils flaring, she flung her head up. As she surprised me, I took a step back.

I collected my scattered wits and reached up a hand to offer it to her. Nurse always said that a dog would sniff your fingers and lick you if it you were a good person. I wondered if it would even work.

Instead of licking my hand, she took her own startled step back. Uncertainly she lifted her forelegs off the ground in front of me, and snorted. I watched as she considered my extended hand. Then, slowly, she lowered her head to breathe in my scent.

The nostrils on the mare widened as she inhaled, but I wasn’t alarmed anymore. She breathed in for what seemed like ages, until I began to shift with impatience. Then she did the least expected: she swung her head around to breathe in my face. She now knew that I would not harm her or her foal. She blew in my face for a long time, and when she stopped I smiled and softly blew back in a nostril. They so big and I was so small, I had to breathe in one, instead of being able to breathe in both.

When she was satisfied, she lifted her head and breathed on my head. I assumed that this was the equivalent of a dog licking your face. Quickly she moved back to where she was standing, and closed her eyes to doze again. Eagerly, I looked around the stall.

There was no foal, to my disappointment, but in one corner there was a pile of horse dung and in another a pile of straw. I realized that I was tired after wandering around the barn all afternoon. I walked over to the pile of straw to take a nap. The huge black mare glanced at me lazily and closed her eyes again.

I was looking forward to a brief nap in the warm barn, but I found something else. When I approached the straw, I saw black. Then heard a snort, and saw the tiny black foal I had heard about raise its perfect little head.

I let out a small gasp and fell to my knees before the foal. It lifted its head, startled, and looked at me with an incredulous expression.

I murmured in my young voice, Don’t worry, little baby. I won’t hurt you. Aren’t you the prettiest thing in the stalls?

It was love at first sight for me. Nothing more than friendship, but this little thing gave me a mother’s love even though I wasn’t even five years old. I calmed it, and together we fell asleep.

*     *     *

Ah, Princess, ye’d better get out o’ that there straw. Yer nurse’ll not be happy ’bout this in yer smock. I awoke to a deep, gentle voice.

Sleepily I opened my eyes. My back was to the young filly next to me, and I was toasty warm. I recognized StableMaster Thiat, a gruff man who I had seen beating a lazy stableboy just as easily as he lovingly groomed a horse himself.

Smocks aren’t any good anyway, I mumbled, trying to blink the sleep out of my eyes. He smiled at me.

All the same, it’s best to look yer best whenev’r yer with yer nurse, he replied easily. If I’ve seen that lady, I’ve seen ’em all.

Not so! I protested. I’m not like her!

Then ye aint a lady, are ye? he said. Ye’re a Princess and ye kin be whatev’r ye like.

I digested this as he continued.

Now, ye better git out o’ there, for my sake if nothin’ else. Yer nurse’ll be after me till the day I die if yer smock gets worse’n it already is.

Grumbling, I climbed out. The foal shifted to compensate for the warmth I had left behind almost immediately, not even stuttering in its slow, relaxed breathing.

The mare was sniffing Thiat’s outstretched palm, taking up something he offered her. I asked, What is that?

Alfalfa treats, came the reply. They all love ’em.

Can I give her some?

He glanced at me warmly. Of course, Princess. Who would ever tell you no?

I walked over to him as he fished out another treat from his pocket. He gave it to me, and I was surprised to see a round cylinder-shaped treat that was mostly dried grass.

They like this? I asked. Don’t they like it better fresh?

There are other treats hidden inside. It’s not what you see, it’s what you taste.

Thiat showed me how to give her the treat, telling me to hold my hand flat or she might just decide my fingers were the treat, too. She can’t see yer fingers, he said. She won’t tell the difference ’till she bites. Trust me; ye don’t want thet to happen.

I trusted him. I smiled as she gratefully took the treat out of my hand, giggling as the hairs on her muzzle tickled my hand.

Come on, we better git ye to yer nurse quickly now. For my sake, remember, his eyes twinkled as he said this and led me away from my horses.

Why can’t I ride? I asked Thiat as we walked away.

Don’t know, was the reply. Yer mum, God bless her with eternal life, probably don’t like the thought of you on horseback. S’okay, though, I could request you git lessons if ye like, he offered.

I turned to him excitedly.

Would you? I eagerly requested. Please, oh please, StableMaster, I would be oh so grateful.

He laughed at my excitement. Of course, he chuckled. It hurts me to see such a beautiful princess as ye go to waste indoors. I’ll report to yer good father if ye be good with yer nurse today. That may return me to favors with her.

Of course, I promised. "I’ll be good forever if you’ll talk to Daddy!"

I can’t expect that from you. But I’ll talk to yer father as soon as I can.

Thank you so much, StableMaster!

Ah, please, he said. Just call me Thiat.

Thiat, I repeated.

*     *     *

Thiat held to his word, and I did as well as I could. My father let Thiat himself teach me to ride ponyback, and soon under his guidance I became the best five-year-old rider at the palace overlooking Santra Keep, my country Santra’s capital. Over the next few years we became fast friends, and with everything that came up, I went to him for his steady guidance. My mother Queen Karabella disapproved of my making friends with an elevated commoner, but she soon gave up on breaking the friendship. Instead she looked on with a secret frown, disapproving but relieved I wasn’t taking on his commoner’s accent. My father, in the other hand, looked on proudly that his only daughter was turning out to be a kindly person.

I hardly ever saw my mare and filly in the next eight years, whose names turned out to be Zerrani and Raven. Instead I rode a steady middle-aged plain brown pony called Tamp. She was only seven, but I considered her old, since of course she was older than I was.

When I was nine, I pleaded to WeaponsMaster Agen to teach me to sword fight. At first he refused: after all, I was just nine years old! But I kept at it, begging and pleading until he finally gave in. Of course, he never let me hold more than a wooden sword, always with bulky cloth armor, but with Agen’s guidance I never left with even a bruise or a slight cut.

On my tenth spring, when I was returning from swords practice, I heard my father’s voice raised. I had heard of a guest who had arrived as I was practicing; I wondered what he had foolishly done to anger the king of Santra.

*     *     *

I will not agree with this foolishness! my father roared at the guests. I stopped walking up to the corner I had been about to turn and instead poked my head around it to eavesdrop.

My father was standing in full royalty, which meant this was no ordinary or unexpected guest. The visitor was a single bedecked foreign king’s servant, which meant that he was alone to face my father’s wrath. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, for though my father didn’t often get angry, when he did he was fearsome in his rage. He continued.

Wage a war against Tomash? He fumed. Is Emperor Taknasti mad? Does he think I’m that foolish?

With each sentence Father’s face reddened further, and the message boy shrank lower. Mother tried to get Father to see sense again.

Destion, please stop this! she cried. It’s not the boy’s fault; let him go with a letter to the king with a letter at least.

Silence, Karabella! Father shocked everyone when he shouted against my mother, whom he loved very much. The boy shall go. But he shall go tomorrow. Let Taknasti know that though his country is savage and mannerless, while Santra is not so and does not act so. This messenger will sleep safe and quiet tonight, and leave in the morning with a good rest and my letter to his king. Take care of his horse so that it is fresh in the morning, Thiat. Cribass! He called the MasterScribe. I need you and your apprentices this night. Come! We have many notices to send out. I will need the royal messengers’ horses’ ready tomorrow morning as well, Thiat!

Thiat bowed. Every horse will be fresher leaving than it was in coming, as ever, your Majesty.

Thank you, Thiat. My father turned and walked out, leaving a wake of bowing courtiers behind him. A maid came up to help the dazed messenger to his rooms for the night, and I followed Thiat to the stables as he went to take care of the horses as promised.

When I caught up with him at the barn, he was leading a strange horse in front of its stall to groom it. It was one I had never seen before, as well as smaller and foaming on the chest and where the saddle and bridle had sat. I assumed it was the messenger boy’s horse.

Thiat, I said. What’s going on? What was father talking about?

Thiat thoughtfully tied the small horse to the stall.

Do ye know th’ lay of th’ land around us? he asked me. Th’ countries, I mean.

Yes, I slowly answered him. Komari’s above us, and Tomash and Rastori are next to it, then right below Rastori and east to us is Sundaba. We’re Santra, of course.

Yeah, Thiat said. That’s right. Well, Komari’s emperor, Emperor Taknasti, wants to attack Tomash and join it with his own country. And he wants our help to do it, too. Thet’s why our king, yer father, was so angry. Don’t know what he thinks ’bout that, couldn’t speak for yer father.

I thought. What will Father do?

Fight on the behalf of Tomash, I expect. I can’t say for sure. Yer father’s a good man, a protective person, and Tomash’s a good country. He’ll protect it if he can, is my best bet.

When will we know for sure? I asked.

If it’s bad, he’ll probably not tell you until tomorrow. He’ll want you to get yer sleep.

How do you know for sure?

He sent fer his scribe and his apprentices, and wants the messengers’ horses well kept. There’ll be an announcing tomorrow.

He said this with a knowing look.

Hmmm . . .  can I help with the horses? I want them to be able to run fast so if there’s bad news the cities can learn it fast.

They will anyway, Thiat remarked. Hand me that brush, will ye?

*     *     *

My father told us the next day. Actually, he had the royal heralds tell us. Since all heralds could read, there was no reason for the scribes to waste their voices.

Commissioned by the good King Destion of Santra, they all began. "As according to the messenger boy Ran of Komari’s capital Pollack’s King Terbium, Komari is going to war with Tomash in order to strengthen its boundaries. To King Destion this is an unfortunate circumstance where Santra must stand in the innocent Tomash’s place and protect it. The goodly Barons of the cities must come forth to Santra Keep with their families for a long stay as King Destion’s war councilors.

Baron Sandon of Pa’Lac’Tia, come forth. Baron Barshon of East Castle City, come forth. Baron Strat of River City, come forth. Baron Obilion of Lake City, come forth. Baron Kant of Palpar City, come forth. Baron Antron of Paka City, come forth. Baron Aran of Rak’Mana, come forth! All ye, whose names are called, come forth with your healthy immediate families to Santra Keep! The time for war has begun!

The summons rang throughout the streets all day and much of the night, as I’m sure it was for many cities. After two weeks the first family arrived. It was the Baron Sandon, and with him was a kid just two years older than I was, who called himself Kantron. I detested him at the first, mainly because of his immature comments against my ‘hobbies’.

All year the families collected, and the camp for the new soldiers began to seem permanent. This no longer seemed like something that would never happen to me. My father kept up his enthusiasm of teaching the Komarians a lesson. Then one day next spring came news of a skirmish on the Tomash-Komari border. Almost immediately the camp was down by two score men.

That same morning I was on the way to the stables, when a crowd of young people showed up. All my age, all dressed extravagantly. I knew none but Kantron. Because of his detestable words I took them all to be that way, so I had taken pains to stay away from them, before they had found me today.

One of them spoke out as they approached us. I gave Kantron a disdainful look, and he and one other split off to wander the opposite direction. I faced the rest squarely as I identified the girl who had spoken. She was a tall, brown hair and green, crafty eyes.

Hello, she greeted me. I haven’t seen you around here. Quite frankly I haven’t seen hardly anyone at all. I just arrived not too long ago.

Megan, that is not true! a short girl with brown hair said. You arrived a month before I did and I just arrived last week!

Well, this is such a big place, Megan replied. I’m sure you haven’t explored much, either.

Do I look like I would explore much to you?

No. She was short and frank. Warily I watched the two. A boy with sandy hair and blue eyes noticed me.

Well, you’d think you were watching a bunch of snakes fighting. What’s up? Don’t you ever see more than that on the streets?

Frankly, no. I don’t travel the streets of Santra Keep. The castle is fine for me, thanks.

Oh, do you know Princess Allanna? Megan eagerly asked me. We’ve heard a lot about her, but no one’s seen her yet. We don’t even know what she looks like!

A girl with rough, long blonde hair