They Called Her Alivia: The Quest for the Twelve Amulets

By Lena M. Pate

PRINCESS Alivia discovers that she is not only a sorceress but also the guardian born to halt the returning terror of a black-magic wizard named Abaddon. Along with her beloved pets and familiars, Conall and Erskime, she lives hidden in a cave protected by three hobgoblins and twelve ancient warrior faeries in the town of Brightenbeam. She is brought there to sharpen her skills and to avoid capture by the horrifi c warlord Guthrie and his black-magic seer Necromanticus. Sent to Clavenburn to learn magic, she becomes best of friends with well-mannered Genevieve, sassy and outspoken Catriona, Dooley the warrior, studious Waverly, and handsome but mischievous Alasdair, while being thwarted by the evil orphan twins Tearlach and Broch, along with their sidekicks.

Headmaster Professor Hesperus Orfeo wears a mysterious pendant similar to the one worn by Falon, head guardian of the faeries. Also on staff is a mystifying school sentinel named Sir Cayden, who is keeping a puzzling secret. Surviving a kidnap attempt, Alivia acquires one of the twelve hidden amulets. During holiday, Cat and Genevieve help Alivia rescue a baby Skye dragon she nicknamed Spitfi re. Attempting to return the dragon to his home, they befriend a berg troll named Hernhaugen, who helps them battle bewitched bats and boggarts sent by Necromanticus to steal the Ring of Nature. At the end of the school year, her friends convince Alivia to enter a magical tournament where they learn that teamwork is the strongest magic of all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 10, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524501198

Lena M. Pate

Lena M. Pate is an American writer born in Michigan but transplanted to Texas. She has been married to a wonderful man for over forty years. She is a mother of two and Meemaw to four wonderful grandchildren. Two dogs, Speckles and Darcy, and a cat named Patches adopted her, and they allow her to live in their house. She takes pleasure in writing poetry and short stories for her blog, lenasstoryandpoetrycorner.blogspot.com. She has been published in three anthologies, the first edition Umagazine in 2010, and had a poem highlighted in the Sacramento Poetry, art and music e-magazine. She is currently working on a fourth anthology with a group of gifted writers that should be out this September. She authored a crime fiction book entitled Following the Scent, which at the moment is out of print. She has written for the New Texan for the Texas American Medical Technologists (AMT). When she is not writing, she stays busy working as a laboratory education coordinator and medical technologist. She enjoys reading, writing, art, music, and gardening.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Lightning, fire, and torches lit the night casting an eerie glow to the evening sky. Screeches and groans rent the stillness. Battle cries echoed around the fortress as walls crumbled. Swords meet metal shields and breastplates. The metallic smell of blood mingled with the odor of the fetid moat water and the rancid smell of burning tar from the fire pits set up around the outside bailey. Men secured chains to the caldrons, hoisting them up the curtain walls to the murder holes, which allowed the boiling hot liquids to be poured on unsuspecting enemies below.

I'm not sure how much longer we can protect this castle, Greer shouted over the din from the fighting below.

She dodged a wall as it collapsed. Racking coughs from the mortar and dust overwhelmed her. As the air cleared, she observed the king's men tipping heated tar over a parapet, sheeting ogres and men attempting to scale the wall. For every man they felled, ten others appeared to take their place.

Greer assessed the damage about the courtyard as she flew closer to Treasa. Magic and valor didn't appear to be enough against a legion of this scale. Even with the assistance of the other ten faeries, it looked as if this fight was lost. Greer observed the chaos below as enemy troops stormed the outer walls on all four ramparts. Everywhere she glanced, armor clad men crawled over barriers. Early in the fight they realized that at least half of the enemies were apparitions. Lord Guthrie wanted to confuse and discourage those brave soldiers inside the castle walls. A man would run up to fight an enemy just to have it evaporate, while a live enemy took advantage of his confusion and run the soldier through. Orcs were enormous brutes with hides like rhinoceros, heads resembling wild hogs; they had the fighting will of a lion and the brain of slug. Many of them joined with the enemies to fight against the castle's inhabitants.

They endured an unending rain of arrows. It wasn't a matter of how well outfitted the enemy appeared, but the strength of the black magic at work. The enemy easily carved through each defensive magic barrier they erected. Treasa dodged another flaming arrow hissing by her head. At least it was getting easier to spot them now that the sun had begun to set.

Greer, behind you.

Heeding the warning, Greer angled a hasty down-stroke with her lengthy black wings for a rapid descent dodging several arrows that flew past her, humming like a swarm of irate bees. You're getting slow, my friend. I fear you need a nap. Treasa winged past to cover another wall.

Mind your mouth or I may not warn you next time one comes close. Greer blasted a shower of rock, which would have harmed the king's soldiers below.

The castles guardians weakened as the assault continued. The time had come to change tactics.

Treasa, I'll take the center and east while you defend the back corner to the south. Be careful and withdraw if the skirmish becomes markedly worse. I plan to mind merge with the others and try an all-out white magic attack. We must push the enemy back to give our men below a break. Remember, our main objective is to safely escape with Alivia if all looks lost.

Greer spared but a moment to assure herself that Treasa comprehended the nature of the plan. Treasa was an intense warrior not taken willingly to retreat.

Greer flew high above the castle so as not to be a target; then hovering in the air, closed her eyes and completed her connection with the fairies. Each responded, which assured her that they had not lost any of their team in the scrimmage. A few of them were stationed within, to guard the castle's occupants, but the majority was outside fighting alongside the king's soldiers. Within moments, the air quivered with the energy of the fairies preparing for the assault. Each had an area of the wall to strike. At Greer's command, the energy would explode all around the fortress, knocking all combatants away from the perimeter without harming those within the walls.

Greer returned to her position, nodding at Treasa that all was ready.

Now.

Lightning detonated the sky, thick blue bolts attracted to the enemy's metal armor. Explosions rent the air as the powerful bolts blasted the unlucky lightning rods who wore that armor. Forked lightning struck the woods about the castle, raining fire and debris upon those seeking refuge.

Boulder-sized hail crushed the enemy. Volleys of ice pelted those scaling the walls with ladders, splintering the wood and, dropping bodies to the hard-packed ground or into the moat about the other walls. The men lay in heaps, one body stacked upon the other.

Waves of fire from the back section of the castle walls rolled over the enemy as a tide washes a beach clean. For every man that died, it appeared that five more took his place. Orcs, shapeshifters, warlocks, and men fought back with a power that could only come from strong black magic. The smell of burnt flesh and hair hung heavily in the wind crossing the castle walls.

Greer attempted to eliminate the menace of troops, scaling the eastern wall just above the stables. She halted out of reach of the enemy arrows. Her black cape flapped under the current from her wings while hovering in midair. With a wave of her hand, she fabricated an image in the night sky of a large blue dragon with scales that reflected the waning light. A roar emanated from the beast as the wind from its wings blew men across the ground like leaves in autumn.

Greer's expertise lay in dragons, whether real or concocted magically. This particular apparition materialized in front of the soldiers struggling to scale the curtain fortification. Another wave from her hand produced genuine fireballs from the dragon's mouth, spewing forth, scorching all those unfortunate to have not escaped in retreat.

Treasa secured her position at the south tower. Playing with your make-believe pets again I noticed.

Greer observed Treasa blast cannon balls into dust with lightning bolts as the enemy endeavored to destroy one of the corner towers.

Better than that kindling you use.

I'd match my lightning bolts to your giant lizards any day.

Get out of my head, brat. I'm busy here. Greer prepared another dragon blast to keep the enemy in check.

Reaching behind her wings, Treasa extracted another arrow loaded with lightning spells, swiftly drawing back the hemp string taut, letting it fly from her longbow. The bolt lit up the sky as it rained charges onto those below. Each rock or enemy that the charges touched burned to ash beneath the electrical onslaught. The defense of the illumination blinded those that remained, making it near impossible to pinpoint where exactly to shoot back.

Treasa wore dark leather not cloth, and preferred pants to dresses, allowing her to blend into the night. She took no chances of her locks interfering with her archery. Carefully braided auburn hair encased tightly with a leather strap lay securely tucked under the yew-bark quiver that held her arrows.

With Treasa guarding the back partition, Greer flew closer to the center wall in hopes of observing where the next threat would land.

As she touched down atop the open gorge tower to inspect the outer grounds and rest her weary wings, a heavy jolt from behind knocked her to the floor. Something or someone lying across her back pinned her face down onto the cold stones. Before she was able to counter the slam, a large cannon ball exploded the tower wall. An onslaught of rock bombarded their bodies. A deep-throated groan emanated from the bulk above her as the person took the majority of the blows. Before the dust settled, the weight hastily lifted from her. Promptly rolling to the side, Greer jumped to her feet and took a defensive stance, but confronted nothing but air. Lifting swiftly into the night sky, she searched but found no telltale signs of who had attacked her, or if she was being honest, actually saved her life. Wrapping her arms about her, she felt an unexpected chill in the air. She wasn't entirely sure the chill occurred from the drop in temperatures at sunset or from a premonition that there were unknowns within the castle walls.

CHAPTER TWO

A man hidden in the trees within the castle's bailey worriedly consulted his chief. That was close, sir. Are you sure that she didn't get a glimpse at you?

I am positive. What I am not sure of, though, is how we can help them protect this castle. I trust that Falon will realize that this is a lost cause and abscond with the child before Lord Guthrie has a chance to get to her. Go check the south walls and report back to me here. The leader hid in the shadows of the trees, rubbing an especially tender shoulder, anticipating another prolonged night.

He and his men had joined this fight from the very beginning, unbeknown to the group of fairies that lived in this realm protecting Princess Alivia.

His village lay hidden well up in the mountains to the northeast, too high and cold for neither man nor beast to reach safely. As they returned toward the outer base camp after an extensive and weary meeting with wizards from the remote western desert beyond the Sea of Farr, they noticed black smoke rising from the horizon and darkening the sky. Flying closer to the ebony clouds, he was able to discern the marauding band of troops led by Lord Guthrie burning a path from his kingdom on a direct course for Lancaster. Men and beast scoured the land for food and then set fire to all they had plundered.

It didn't take a wizard to decipher the intent and goal of the approaching masses of human and beastly creatures as they pillaged the countryside. Returning to his armed forces, he commanded them to alight on the nearest rock ledge, where they planned their next moves. He and his combat-ready team would assist as best they could until the princess could be procured to a safer place.

CHAPTER THREE

Alivia looked out the window as the last rays of sun painted bleeding hues of red and yellow across a mat from a single focal point in the west. Marring this beautiful backdrop were the sights and sounds of war that had become the norm for several sunsets. Sitting so far back and being just outside the gardens helped block most of the actual fighting from her immediate view. With darkness approaching, soon the only light would be from the torches, candles, and oil lamps set about the interior castle walls.

Wait. What was that back by the tree line? Was someone close to the rearmost garden wall? Dark forms appeared to have shifted. Was one skulking away? Straining, Alivia attempted to discern if anything else appeared out of place but the wind and the waning light only played tricks on her eyesight. It was probably the tree limbs shifting. Looking over at Cerian, she noted her godmother intent on mending the rip in the tunic she held in her hands.

Cerian, I think I just saw something.

Where, dear? Cerian placed her material onto her lap, glancing toward the child.

Back there, over by the gardens.

Cerian strained to peer from the chair where she was sewing, giving the window a quick look. It is probably just Cook or one of her helpers. It takes a lot of food to feed all the men.

Alivia glanced outside again, but saw nothing this time. Cerian was probably right. Alivia reminisced about the sunny days with rich, dark soil running through her fingers while listening to Cook explain about the herbs, tap roots and tubers. She missed digging in the dirt and taking care of all the plants. Peace enveloped the garden and smelled like new beginnings.

Returning to her chair, Alivia sat swinging her legs to and fro as she slid the needle carefully through the cloth draped across her lap. She hemmed several torn clothes used for dressings. The white fabric lay pooled across her lap as the light flickered from the candle that shone over her shoulder. She and her godmother worked since early morning sewing bandages, repairing torn garments, and yet there were still endless piles yet to mend. She reached up to rub the grit plaguing her tired eyes. Massaging her knuckles across her eye sockets as a yawn escaped, she slumped deeper into the chair. Picking up the cloth and needle, she squinted as she fed the needle into the fold at the bottom of the cloth.

Ouch. Alivia proceeded to suck on the injured finger she had just stuck.

Sew the hem, child, not your hand. Cerian smiled as she bit off the thread, carefully tying a knot on the tunic she had just finished mending. The soldiers went through so many pieces of clothing these days. Cerian sighed, adding the patched one to the finished pile and reached for another torn one.

Will this fighting ever end, Cerian? Alivia asked as she rested the bandages on her lap. Combing her fingers through her lengthy fair brown locks, she kneaded her head in an effort to stimulate her scalp, while she ruffled the top, straining to get a good look at one of her twelve godmothers.

It has been two days since I have had even a glimpse of mother or father, she sighed wistfully when she glanced out a window to the west. Fading light played on the walls and buildings, casting elongated eerie shadows into the yard. That must have been what she saw earlier, shadows playing tricks on her tired eyes.

Cerian sighed as she too looked out the window at the bailey beyond. This fighting had been going on for more than two full moons. Truth be told, most sieges continued for many months but this one progressed faster than most. Even with so much magic on their side, the devastation of this war took a hefty toll. There must be some incredibly dark magic at work here. She gazed tenderly at Alivia, amazed how well she held up for a child of eleven summers. War makes children grow up much faster than normal, she noted. Mature, yet innocent eyes, stared back at her.

Maybe before bed we can make time to visit your mother, Cerian told Alivia as she began to replace the torn sleeve. This would have to be the last one for tonight. Waning light from the sun filtered through the windows. The candlelight played havoc on the old woman's eyes. Cerian shifted her ample figure in the high-back chair attempting to stretch the tired muscles in her back. She smiled at the child, trying so valiantly to stay awake.

Soon finished, they packed up the sewing, giving the bandages and darned soldiers' garments to one of the servants still mending by the fireplace. Bidding goodnight to the other women, Cerian and Alivia headed out of the great hall. The women of the castle worked day and night stitching torn garments and making new clothing for the men fighting outside. No end appeared in sight to the torn clothes and bodies that came into the castle walls for mending and tending. The rest would wait in baskets by the fireplace until morning. Cerian straightened the wool shawl about her shoulders to ward off the dampness. The coolness of the evening crept through the drafty halls of the stone castle.

Alivia reached her arms up above her head, stretching and flexing her fingers to relieve the cramping. Sitting was much harder than moving about and much more tiring. She disliked sewing but wouldn't complain. There wasn't much she could do to help, but she would do all she could to assist.

Let's pick up a fresh loaf of bread from the kitchen with some jam to take with us. The queen will need to keep up her strength too, remarked Cerian as she placed an arm around Alivia's shoulder.

Oh yes, she would love that. Maybe there is some of her favorite honey butter too. Alivia regarded her godmother as they made their way to the kitchen. Cerian had the springiest short gray hair that haloed her rosy round cheeks. Most of the time, Alivia forgot that Cerian was also a faerie, as were all of her godmothers. Tall as humans, most hid their wings from view. Alivia's mother once told her that the clan of faeries her godmothers came from was unique. Most faeries were tiny, about the sizes of humming birds. These faeries, however, were descendants of a warrior race from the time of the ancient ones, so they remained normal height. Cerian, though, was soft and round, which Alivia found comforting. She radiated serenity and composure. Alivia was glad that she was getting to spend so much time with Cerian while all else in her life was unstable.

They located Cook busy stirring a large vat of stew over the fires in one of the many iron cauldrons kept available night and day. Equipped with extended brick and mortar hearths lining one whole wall, this castle boasted numerous chimneys with vaults beneath each to store wood. Cook controlled the temperatures by either raising or lowering pots from the fires. Her staff needed to be ready to feed the men whenever they could make their way inside from the fighting. Large spits of lamb and beef roasted over fires tended by the young sons of the servants, whose job it was to keep the fires fed and the meat turning. Mixed aromas of mutton and venison, bread, soups and puddings cloaked Alivia like a warm caress. Juices dripped and hissed as they fell onto the hot logs beneath. Cook reached over and swatted one of the lads sitting on a stool, falling asleep as he turned the spit.

What brings you two into my kitchen this late? Would you like a bowl of stew before retiring? asked Cook with her deep no-nonsense voice as she scurried between pots, adding vegetables to one while she stirred another. Cook ran her kitchens like a general on the field.

Alivia smiled. She liked Cook a great deal and spent many a day in this kitchen helping to crush the dried herbs to be stored in the cool cellar for later. Once she asked Cook what her Christian name was, but Cook replied that she only answered to Cook, so there was no need to share it.

We wondered if you had any bread left over from this morning. Maybe even some of the honey butter that Mother likes so much. We plan to visit with her this eve, Alivia said as she reached over and began to stir one of the pots to help. The steam rising from the rich broth smelled heavenly, even though Alivia was much too tired to eat anything this late.

Certainly. Cerian, if you don't mind, the bread is under the cloth staying warm on the stones over there. Alivia, fetch one of the trays, would you please. I will get the crock and add some slices of this tender lamb to go with it. Lord knows Herself hasn't been eating much lately. Cook hustled her ample figure over to the cupboard, readjusting her wimple and dusting off her hands on the apron stretched around her.

Cerian and Alivia were soon on their way up the large staircase heading to the ladies' chamber. At the massive outer doors, two of her father's guards nodded at them as they opened the entries, giving them access to her mother's chamber. As Alivia crossed the threshold, she noted her mother deep in concentration over the crystals carefully mapped on the table in front of her by the fire. Quietly, she walked over to her mother, admiring as always the beauty that radiated from her. Alivia marveled at the extended delicate fingers that hovered just above the rubies in the center and the opals and sapphires lining the outer ring of a set of circles carved into the table's wooden surface. Alivia's mother looked up at her daughter and smiled. Alivia noticed dark circles pooled beneath her mother's weary eyes.

Oh, Mother, how I wish I could help you with the crystals. You look so tired. We brought you something to eat. Cook even let me have a crock of your favorite honey butter for the bread. Alivia kissed her mother's cheek as she reached to give her a hug.

Alivia, you are a ray of sunshine to these exhausted eyes. Come sit and tell me what you have been doing today.

Cerian and I have been mending garments and making bandages. I stuck my finger, see. Alivia interrupted her mother to show her the finger, which was good for a kiss and another hug.

Have you visited with your father today?

Cerian set a slice of bread into the queen's hand and some cut-up pieces of meat in a plate before her. Smiling, she took a bite of the bread, never taking her eyes off her beautiful little girl.

No, not yet. Cerian spoke with him last night and he promised he would be up to visit us both before I went to sleep tonight. Alivia stifled another yawn behind her hand.

The queen stared at Alivia, in deep in thought; then standing up, she took her by the hand and led her over to a lengthy bench by the fire.

Alivia, my heart, I want to give you something. Queen Katherine reached inside her bodice, extracting an extended gold chain. Hanging on the chain was an ornate gold ring with symbols around it.

Mother, your ring. Why are you giving me your ring? Her mother never wore the necklace on the outside of her clothes like her other jewelry. This ring she always kept near her heart.

Alivia, my daughter, I want you to keep it safe for me. Will you do that?

Of course I will. I will keep it next to my heart as you do.

Her mother slipped it over Alivia's head and tucked it into her bodice. Alivia could feel the warmth of the gold ring under her dress, still holding her mother's heat, as Alivia placed her hand over her chest where it lay.

I love you so much, Alivia. Stay true to your heart and to yourself always, my precious daughter. Allow no one to either steal your spirit or own your soul. With tears glistening in her eyes, she kissed Alivia on the forehead and then hugged her tightly.

Mother, why are you crying? Alivia remained troubled by her mother's unusual behavior.

I guess I'm just tired. I think I can eat that food that you brought me now. Queen Katherine led Alivia back to the table where the food sat. She smiled as she took another bite of the bread and a small slice of the meat.

They chatted for a few minutes while her mother ate. All at once, the doors burst open, and her father entered flanked by several of his men-at-arms. For a moment, he smiled at his wife and daughter, who were busy eating and happily chatting. Many more of his men waited in the hallway. Alivia thought he looked so handsome in the chainmail that he wore over his royal robes. Today he displayed the family crest of lions and swords pinned to the tartan plaid slung over his shoulder in their clan colors of blue, green, and black. He beheld first his wife, who smiled tenderly at him. He bent to give her a light kiss, and then with a knowing nod, he glanced lovingly at Alivia.

Oh, Father, you were able to come and visit us. I told mother that you promised. Alivia jumped from the chair, her tiredness forgotten, leaping into her father's open arms.

How's the sweetest pumpkin in the patch today? He enfolded her close to his heart. Alivia loved when he called her these pet names. As he held her close, the mail rings felt cold compared to the heat radiating off his body.

I'm wonderful now that I get to visit you. Is the fighting getting any better, Father? Alivia planted a kiss on his cheek. It didn't matter to her that he was dirty and sweaty. His beard tickled her nose as it always did and she giggled. She played with a curl that had escaped from his leather tie at the back of his neck. His hair shone silver in the lamplight of the chamber.

King Liam Mhic Dhuibhe looked sadly down into his wife's troubled eyes, touched her lovingly on the cheek, and then carried Alivia back over to the bench that she and her mother just vacated, setting Alivia on his lap.

Alivia, you have been so brave and helpful through all of this. I am going to have to ask another favor of you that will require you to be even braver. The fighting is getting worse and I am afraid the enemy may get inside the walls this night. Your mother and I want you to be safe, and so I'm going to ask you to go up to the tower and stay there until we come for you. Can you do that for me? King Liam looked deeply into Alivia's eyes as he told her the plans.

What about Mother? Can she come with me?

No, Alivia, she must stay here and concentrate on the crystals. Your mother's magic is extraordinary and we need her to help strengthen the walls with her magic.

Will Cerian come with me too? Tears glistened on her eyelashes.

Of course, and some of the other faeries will be up there with you.

Will you come and visit me up there?

Before her father could answer, a commotion erupted on the outer stairs. Several of the guards ran out of the room while the rest surrounded the royal family. Two of the men-at-arms placed heavy beams across the entrance to seal the room while others pushed an armoire forward to add more barriers.

Cerian, take Alivia to the tower now. ordered King Liam but his order came too late.

A great booming from a battering ram struck the chamber door. The wood shook as pebbles from the wall cascaded down, forming a cloud of dust. The doors crashed inward and men poured into the parlor. Her father leapt to his feet, pushing Alivia behind him, stepping forward while pulling his sword. He and his men stood shoulder to shoulder with swords drawn as they confronted the intruders.

Well, isn't this a touching scene. I notice the entire family is here. A man stood in the doorway flanked by many more behind him. He carried a broad jeweled sword in one hand but in the other he carried a durable, glossy stick. His greasy black hair hung down to the middle of his back. Alivia noticed, as she peeked around her father's leg, that the man wore a hauberk mail made of small metal rings over a black robe covering him from his neck to his thighs. It was the stick he was pointing at her mother, not her father. He looked beyond them both, staring directly at Alivia. She stood transfixed, unable to break the contact between them. The eyes that glared back at her were an unusual shade of yellow, much like those of a mountain cat her father had once caught. Strange that she should think of that at a time like this. The expression in the man's eyes frightened Alivia. A pallor of death seeped from those orbs, giving her a chill. Alivia hugged her arms about her as her body quaked.

I will spare all here for I have only come for the child. Give her to me and you all will live. Make me take her from you and all will die a horrible, painful death. He emphasized this by looking directly at her mother, who now stood over the table with the crystals.

I will never let you have my daughter, Guthrie, King Liam imparted testimony to his words by gripping the sword hilt with fierce determination.

That is Lord Guthrie, and you are in no position to make threats. My men have secured the inner walls and have since moved into the main hall. They have their orders to kill all the prisoners and staff if you do not cooperate. If you make a move toward me, your queen will be the first to die, he sneered as his eyes swiveled back to meet the king's challenge.

When he looked away from her mother, Alivia watched her raise several of the rubies in her hands high above her head. A blood-red light with a high-pitched shrill spewed from the rocks. Several of Lord Guthrie's men covered their ears, falling to their knees, screaming in pain. Blood poured from one of the men's lobes, trickling down his neck. Immune to the sight, Lord Guthrie raised his rod, lifting the queen off the floor with what appeared to Alivia to be a lightning bolt. Her mother hovered in the air for a moment, suspended over the table of crystals, and then her body slammed against the far wall, dropping limply like one of Alivia's rag dolls. Alivia screamed but Cerian held her tightly to keep her from running to her mother's aid.

Her father let loose with a war cry, lunging at Lord Guthrie with his sword. Raising his jeweled sword, Lord Guthrie plunged it into her father's chest as if he weren't wearing any protection at