For those who are interested, the next book I will be publishing is the first book about Taroniah. She appears in a short story in Fantastic Schools Vol 3 which covers the last part of her four years at Lightbearer Academy. Taroniah at School recounts her four years at the Academy where she learned about magic and also discovered she was the most powerful magician of her generation, indeed in recent history. Below is the first chapter of that book.

Chapter 1

Taroniah of Marland

Taroniah looked up at the gate to Lightbearer Academy and shivered in the cold. Or perhaps it was from fear of being alone a long way from home for the first time in her life. She had been sent here because she had the gift of magic herself, which the court magician had identified. At least that was the reason in part. The other reason was that although she had been brought up by the King of Marland’s Master of Arms, Robard, she was actually the bastard daughter of the King himself. Although she wasn’t publicly acknowledged as the King’s daughter, the nobility knew as did most of those who worked in the palace. This had caused young Taroniah a few problems as she got older.

When Taroniah was thirteen, Robard, the Master of Arms, who she had always called dad, had retired from his position in the palace a year before due to ill health, well, arthritis more than anything. He and his wife Terencia, who she had always called mum, had taken a small estate in the west of the Kingdom where their adopted son Dingbard would be the one running the property when he became old enough to do so. He was the son of a long-time friend of Robard’s, Sergeant Karlton. When Karlton had been killed in battle, Robard had adopted the orphaned Dingbard, who had been ten at the time. Taroniah had been eight and had not been impressed in having this boy thrust into their home.

She had always known she was adopted, although she hadn’t known who her birth parents were. She still had vague memories of her birth mother, although only snatches of memories these days. She hadn’t known she was the bastard daughter of the king until a year before the move when Kentrick, son of Kern Marigen, had called her a bastard bitch. This insult had resulted in immediate violence on her part. Taroniah might be a girl, but her dad had been the King’s Master at Arms, and part of pacifying her when Dingbard had arrived had included letting her learn arms and combat alongside him as long as the hand-to-hand training was done privately. Weapons’ training was another matter, not something girls normally took part in but not that exceptional so she could train with her adopted brother and others.

She had always been a big girl for her age, and her new adopted brother had been underfed and rather small for his age, so they had been well-matched sparring partners at first. Not that you would know it now, though. At fourteen, he’d already had his first growth spurt, so was a hand taller than her now and was developing into a big strapping lad, with broad shoulders for a boy and bidding fair to be at least big as his father had been. Who had been bigger and taller than her adoptive father, who everyone said was built like a stone bastion!

Kentrick was stuck up, and his comment was enough to let her temper get the better of her. Still, engaging Kentrick in close combat with staves had taught Taroniah very quickly that better training only went so far against someone bigger and stronger than her. Their skill difference wasn’t enough to compensate, and it was humiliating to be saved from serious injury by Dingbard pulling Kentrick off her and quite literally carrying him a ways off while Taroniah got her wind back.

“Right. That’s enough. You two will stop now before someone gets seriously hurt.”

He growled. He wasn’t that much taller than Kentrick but much stronger and bulkier. Kentrick still looked like a boy, while Dingbard looked like he was becoming a man.

“She attacked me,” Kentrick snarled in self-defense as he pointed at Taroniah.

“He called me a bastard bitch!” Taroniah screeched back.

Dingbard put his hands on his hips and glared at the two of them.

“Enough.” He growled firmly, and the two subsided. He looked from one to the other.

“So, what did you do to him?”

“Nothing!” she exclaimed with forced innocence. Dingbard just stared at her. She tried to out-stare him, but after a few moments, she hung her head and shrugged. “I may have said something rude about his parentage,” she admitted sheepishly. “But I didn’t say it loudly. Only he heard it!” she offered as a defense.

Dingbard studied her for a little longer.

“What did he do that required you to insult him?” he asked finally.

She felt herself blushing as she bowed her head and whispered. “Nothing.”

“Hmmph,” he responded. “So he did nothing to cause you to insult his parentage?”

She shook her head. He put his hands on his hips and glared at her. “Apologize. Now!”

She glanced at him then turned to Kentrick. “I am sorry, Kentrick.”

“And why are you apologizing?” Dingbard asked.

She stared at him for a second, then answered. “Because I insulted Kentrick for no reason.”

Dingbard nodded. “Good.” She went to leave. “No, you don’t. I haven’t finished yet,” he said, his voice holding her in place.

He turned to Kentrick.

“So why did you yell out that she is a bastard bitch? You wanted to humiliate her publicly?” he asked in a reasonable tone.

Kentrick didn’t look very repentant.

“Well. It’s not like everyone doesn’t know she’s a bastard after all. Besides, I won’t be lectured by you. You’re a bastard too.” He sneered. Dingbard looked to be about to say something but Kentrick held his head up and looked down his nose. “I won’t be lectured by a commoner bastard like you. She at least is the King’s bastard.” he snapped, bracing himself as if he was expecting Dingbard to attack him.

“What!” Both adopted siblings said at once. Taroniah’s was more of a high-pitched screech, while Dingbard’s was more of a bellow.

The noise attracted the attention of a couple of the King’s soldiers who wandered over.

“What’s going on here?” The lead one asked in a deep rumble.

Dingbard and Taroniah were still standing there, shocked by Kentrick’s claim, and didn’t respond immediately. Kentrick, however, was alive to the potential problems that could result from adult intervention and simply put up his nose.

“Nothing, corporal. We were engaged in hand-to-hand combat practice, and I did something that surprised them,” he smugly smiled at the corporal, then turned to face the still stunned siblings. “I hurt my wrist, so I’m heading in. Catch up later,” he smirked and walked off.

The other two simply watched him go, partly because they also had no desire for adult intervention but partly because they were still digesting what he said. Dingbard looked at the corporal before that worthy could ask any further questions.

“He was right about the surprise. He certainly did that. We’re heading in for supper.”

He nodded to the soldiers, and the two picked up their gear and headed towards the stone building their family lived in. The soldiers made no comment and let them go. Thankfully.

That evening over supper, when he saw Taroniah was too scared or upset or possibly unbelieving to raise the subject, he waited for a suitable moment to mention Kentrick’s claim. Eventually, the moment came. Taroniah had somehow sensed he was going to say something and cringed as he spoke into silence as the pretty conversation ended.

“Um. We had a thing happen today,” Dingbard said.

Robard looked at him suspiciously.

“What sort of a thing?” her father growled.

He had a naturally gravelly voice, so it was hard to tell if he was angry or just concerned. Dingbard stood up to his glare stolidly.

“Kentrick, Kern Marigen’s son, had a bit of a run-in with Taroniah, nothing special, they rub up against each other all the time, but at the end, he claimed she was the King’s bastard.”

He stopped and looked at his adopted father, whom he never called dad. “Is that right, sir?”

Robard glanced over at his wife, who shrugged.

“Yes,” he answered at last. “Marigen must have told his son. Taroniah’s mother was a lady in waiting to the Queen whom the King fancied and used his position to take advantage of. Not the first time it’s happened, and it won’t be the last. Your mother was a friend of Terencia, and that’s why we adopted you when she got ill and died.”

“Oh!” Taroniah said, dumbfounded.

She went to say something and then shut her mouth.

“It’s of no consequence, dear,” her adopted mother said. “Everyone knew at the time, although no one said anything, you know what I mean. This Kentrick must be a nasty piece of work to trot it out like that.” She paused for a moment. “Maybe he assumed you knew.”

“But. But…”

Taroniah couldn’t get any words out.

Her adopted father waved his knife between mouthfuls.

“The King hasn’t refused to acknowledge you’re his bastard in private, Taroniah. He just can’t make a big deal of it publicly. There’s enough doubt about the Prince’s parentage as it is. It’s not as if he looks that much like his father after all. So for that reason alone, you have to be ignored publicly.”

Taroniah hadn’t understood then, but she did now, especially when the Court Magician Ratathen discovered that she had some magical talent. As Taroniah was seven years older, healthier, and magical as well, it meant she was not someone that any ruler wanted to have thrust under his nose every day when his own official son was sickly and weedy. Besides not looking at all like his father!

Fortunately for King Nugar, nobody was likely to support a bastard or a girl, especially someone who was both, over the legitimate prince. The next in line for the throne, old Kern Tescott, was childless, and his heir was from the collateral line. If you left bastards out and any descendant from a female, then the next in line for the throne was one Orel Hagon, a pig farmer in the south near Esomermouth who was descended from the younger son of the younger son of King Lorth, who ruled over a hundred years before. And he was in his sixties and had no heirs either. The royal blood of the Jumbert family didn’t reproduce well nor made for long-lived family members. If descendants of females were included, then the best claim to the throne, apart from Taroniah, was the King of Winghia, who was the descendent of Princess Alania, younger sister of King Trendar, who was King Lorth’s father.

The whispers about the paternity of Prince Patros were fueled by the fact that Queen Vera had gone into seclusion only one month into her pregnancy at Brasfield Castle and had insisted on no visitors till after she was delivered of her long-awaited child. The rumors said she had paid a peasant on the Royal Estate there to have a child on her behalf. No peasant could be found to admit to such a tale, but one of the families living there had moved to Metonia just after the Royal Prince was born.

It wasn’t helped by the fact that the child had dark hair, whereas the Jumbert family ran to light browns and even blonds while Queen Vera was a red-head. Although to be fair, there were dark-haired members of her family. Taroniah’s birth mother was Adelia, a third cousin to Ratathen and also the daughter of the former Court magician in Bovil, Krondas. Her paternal great-grandfather, shared with Ratathen, had also been a magician. At the same time, her maternal great-grandfather had been an Acadamagician at Lightbearer Academy.

So between her magic and who her birth father was, Taroniah was seen by many as a threat to the stability of the Kingdom, which was why she now found herself at the gate into Lightbearer Academy. The Academy was surrounded by a stone wall some three or four paces high, although it didn’t appear to be a proper curtain wall with interior walkway and crenellations. At one point, as they traveled along the road or track from Alictran, which was the main town of the province, she had gotten a better view of the Academy from the carriage window than she did now, standing in front of the gates.

The Academy proper consisted of a single large stone keep rather similar to the old keep in the palace complex at Marsea if a little bigger. The grey stone looked very grim and unwelcoming, but she had little choice, but she had little choice but to be here. The two guards and the chaperone that had accompanied her all the way from Marland saw to that. There was a whole squad of troops at Alcitran, but the local Governor had refused to allow a squad of Marland troops to roam around what was West Dumfordia territory.

The sergeant knocked on the gate, and after a wait of some considerable length of time, it creaked open to reveal a fellow in a brown tunic and grey trousers. He was grey-haired but looked sprightly despite his apparent age. He gave them a good look up and down and then asked politely.

“What can I do for you?”

The sergeant pointed at Taroniah. “This is Taroniah from Marland sent to study magic at this Academy.” His tone said he wasn’t impressed with the idea of magic, let alone studying it. Magic was still frowned at by many, particularly from members of the provincial lower classes, which the sergeant certainly sounded like he was from.

The old man studied Taroniah. “Ah. I see. Very well. Follow me.”

He moved aside to allow them into the courtyard and then led them to a door into the keep. As they walked over the cobbles, he kept up a steady enumeration of the process that Taroniah would be subjected to while at the Academy.

“She will be lodged on the lower floor of the student accommodation in the female dormitory. No males are allowed in the dormitory, nor are any females allowed in the male dormitory. All meals are included in the fees, although many students choose to eat in Alcitran on the occasional day free of classes. Besides the student robes, which are worn over your normal clothes, no clothes are not included, and when your existing wardrobe wears out, you will need to purchase new clothes in Alcitran.”

This last, he said over his shoulder before leading them inside. There were two circular staircases, one up and one down, with the up one on the entrance side of the hall and the down one on the opposite side. The entrance hall had two rooms leading off it, on opposite sides of the central hall. He pointed at the one on the left.

“The first and second year boys are in there, and the first and second year girls are through here.”

He led them through an archway into a small vestibule that two doors opened off. One had a stylised one in brass on it, while the other had a stylised two.

“You will be in the First Year girl’s dormitory through that door. No males allowed. Nor is anyone not on staff or a student allowed in there, I’m afraid,” he said flatly and eyed her two guards and the chaperone.

“I am assigned to Taroniah as her chaperone and companion.” Wendila said firmly with a frown.

The old man looked her up and down.

“She has no need of either here. Part of a young person’s training is to learn to be self-reliant. They learn to wash their clothes and bedding. To make their beds, basic cooking skills and even how to repair their clothes,” he paused. “It is good for their self-discipline to have to do these things themselves. She will be completely safe here, but if you are concerned about her, then you are welcome to take lodgings in Alcitran.”

He ended this last statement with a dismissive sniff.

Wendila tried to look affronted, but Taroniah rather thought she would be happy to return to Marland and escape this forlorn and out-of-the-way place. Taroniah turned to look up at her.

“I will be fine, Wendila. Truly. It’s not as if I grew up as a noble child, after all. Go home. The King was only trying to do the right thing when he sent you with me. There is no need for you to live in that town, so you are handy for my occasional visit.”

Wendila shook her head in denial.

“I can’t just go off and leave you!”

Taroniah smiled and patted her on the arm.

“Leave the bag and go home. The sergeant will witness that you weren’t allowed to stay, won’t you, sergeant?”

This worthy nodded readily.

“Of course. The King can’t blame you for not being allowed to stay, Miss,” he offered.

Wendila looked between the two of them and finally nodded.

“Very well. I feel I am letting you down, though.”

“It is fine, Wendila. Truly.”

Taroniah thought the idea of being without a chaperone come spy was marvelous! They went to leave, but the old man held up his hand.

“I need to see the letter of acceptance before I can allocate a bed to her and set up her course structure.”

Wendila looked surprised for a moment and then shook her head. “Yes, yes. Of course.”

She reached into a bag she carried on a sash that looped over her shoulder and pulled out some papers. She leafed through a couple then pulled out a sheet, which she handed to the old man.

“Here. This is what you want, I believe.”

He glanced at it and nodded.

“If you just follow me back out here, I will get the new student signed in, and then you can be on your way.”

He returned to the main hall and moved over to an ornate desk Taroniah hadn’t noticed when they had first entered the hall. He took a seat behind and pulled open a drawer and then a leather folder. This he flicked open and perused for a moment.

“Ah, yes. Taroniah. From Marsea in Marland. Adoptive parents and mother listed as deceased. No father listed. Why is that?”

She blushed at this question.

“Because my birth father, well, he can’t publically acknowledge me for political reasons,” she managed to get out.

The old man was far more intimidating than anyone that age should be! He studied her for a moment then asked.

“And your adoptive parents are?”

“Robard Lyonson. And his wife Ternecia,” she managed to get out.

The old man studied her again, then picked up a quill pen, let it hover over the page for a second. There was a twitch of something magical, and suddenly, the pen had ink on the end of the nib. The old man made a note on whatever it was inside the leather folder he had been looking at. He Glanced at Taroniah, then looked at the others standing to the left of the desk.

“Who has the fees?”

“I do,” the sergeant said.

He pulled out a leather pouch which he handed to the old man.

“Two years tuition fees and an allowance of one silver a week spending money are included in this pouch. Plus a bonus if she finishes first in her class each year.”

The old man opened the pouch and looked inside. He grunted something, then turned and opened a previously hidden panel and put the pouch inside.

“Very good,” he said, turning back to the party. “Any questions?”

Another old man entered the building from the courtyard, looked them over, nodded at the man behind the desk before heading through the door into the room on the other side of the hall. He had been wearing a long shirt, not quite a robe, almost like the tabards which the two soldiers that had escorted her from Marland were wearing. It had been dark blue with red stripes down the sleeves, and he wore black trousers underneath. It was almost a uniform, she thought.

Meanwhile, the others had finished with the old man in front of her. Wendila looked at her severely.

“You will behave yourself, Taroniah. I don’t think you should be left here on your own, but apparently, we have no choice. You are too young to be left unsupervised, but that is how it will have to be. Be aware that He won’t be happy if you are kicked out for misbehavior.”

Taroniah heard the capital H and knew she meant the King, which was a bit rich, considering the only time he had done anything for her had been to arrange her enrolment to this academy to get her out of the country and provide her with the means to get here. And even that was a political decision based on the situation at home, and the ship she had come on was trading to Alcitran anyway. Ha. And he won’t be happy. Sigh.

Not that she had any intention of getting kicked out. Was Wendila stupid? This was THE magical academy in the world! Well, as far as she knew. Ratarthen had taught her some simple spells, enough to whet her appetite but not enough to be dangerous, and she had been only too happy to be effectively banished to the farthest outpost of the Kingdom of West Dumfordia to study magic! She looked up at the woman and smiled.

“I want to be here, Wendila. I will not do anything to endanger that,” she said earnestly.

The older woman studied her for a moment, frowning a little but finally nodded.

“Very good, Taroniah. We will leave now. Be good and study hard.”

Taroniah nodded, smiled, and then nodded at the two soldiers before standing there and watching as the three left the building. A clearing of a throat behind her brought her back to where she was. She swung around and found the old man had stood up. He beckoned her, and she followed him back to the dorm. He waved for her to enter and left her to do so.