Alassa's Tale: a Schooled in Magic novella

by Christopher Nuttall

  “Your Highness,” the woman said, firmly. She had a prim voice that reminded Alassa of Lady Barb. “Stop. Now.”

  Alassa braced herself as she reached out with her senses. The woman was masking well, but Alassa could sense the tell-tale flickers of magic. A powerful magician, then. Or someone trying hard to pretend to be powerful. But anyone with that sort of control, able to present themselves as powerful, would certainly be skilful. They would be a very dangerous opponent.

  “Stand aside,” she grated out.

  The woman gestured. Alassa raised her magic to defend herself … and realized, a second too late, her mistake. The blast of power slammed into her, shoving her backwards. She’d tried to block it, not deflect it. Alassa heard Sir William cry out in pain, an instant before her defenses started to disintegrate. She stumbled and fell, landing on the stone floor as the last of her personal wards were ripped away. The shock made it hard to concentrate enough to rebuild her defenses. She’d expended too much magic earlier.

  She tried to scramble backwards, but it was already too late.

  The woman walked forward and jabbed a finger at Alassa …

  … And Alassa’s world went black.

  Epilogue

  HER MOUTH TASTED FOUL.

  Alassa retched as she fought her way back to wakefulness. Her stomach felt empty, yet … she gagged, helplessly, as she opened her eyes. She was lying in a comfortable bed, in what looked like a simple apartment. It was a large chamber, finely decorated, but there were no windows. The walls were bare stone. The only source of light was a glowing crystal embedded in the ceiling, well out of reach. She sat upright, realizing that someone had removed her dress while she slept and changed her into a simple white nightgown. She was a prisoner …

  I’m in the Tower of Alexis, she thought, numbly. It couldn’t be anywhere else. She swallowed hard, glancing from side to side. She’d never been in the prison – very few people who went inside talked about their experiences – but she’d heard rumors. I’m a prisoner.

  She felt her stomach, gingerly. They’d fed her Durian potion while she slept. Was the baby alright? Panic yammered at her mind as she realized the baby might have been harmed by the potion. The magic-suppressant – the taste was unmistakable – might have hurt the unborn child. She silently vowed revenge as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. Whoever had fed her potion was going to suffer.

  Her legs felt wobbly. How long had she been out? There was no clock in the room, nothing to show the time – or the date. She could have been kept in an enchanted sleep for days or weeks, with proper care. Her hair didn’t feel to have grown any longer, but … but it was hard to be sure. Her head felt as though it was stuffed full of cotton wool. It would take time for the potion – and whatever else they’d fed her – to work its way through her system and come out.

  A door opened. The sour-faced lady stepped into the room.

  Alassa acted on instinct and threw herself forward. Her muscles locked up a second later, sending her crashing to the floor. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t even blink. Her arms and legs started to ache as the hex held them still. She’d been frozen before, of course, but this was different. It was …

  Strong arms rolled her over. She found herself staring up at the older woman. There was no mercy in her eyes.

  “I permitted that, as a display of futility,” the woman said. Her voice was clipped, utterly toneless. “This chamber is heavily warded. Even if you somehow manage to gain access to your magic, you will not be able to use it. There are layers upon layers of protections to keep you from escaping.”

  Alassa wanted to scream in frustration. Who was this woman?

  The woman smiled, coldly. “You are a prisoner,” she said. “If you accept that, and behave yourself, your stay in the tower will be reasonably comfortable, at least until your father decides your ultimate fate. If, however, you decide to cause problems for us, we will take steps to render you harmless. Given your condition” – she reached down and tapped Alassa’s abdomen – “I advise you to behave.”

  She knows, Alassa thought. She knows I’m pregnant. And that means father must know too.

  Two maids entered the room, one carrying a plate of food, the other carrying a jug of water and a glass. They wore plain uniforms, rather than the fancy outfits she’d seen at the castle and aristocratic mansions; their expressions were as cold and humorless as any prison guards. But then, they were prison guards. They put their trays down on a table and walked out, as silently as they’d come.

  “You may write letters, if you wish,” the woman added. “Or spend your days practicing needlework. Or even ask for something else, as long as it doesn’t pose any threat to us.”

  She waved her hand, casually. Alassa’s muscles unlocked. She fell in a heap, her arms and legs screaming in pain. Pins and needles ran over her body. It was all she could do not to scream. Instead, she forced herself to her feet. She’d endured discomfort before. She could do it again.

  It was hard, so hard, to speak. But she had no choice. “Who are you?”

  The woman inclined her head, regally. “Lady Matilda, Custodian of the Tower of Alexis,” she said. “And you are in my custody.”

  Alassa stared in disbelief. The Custodian of the Tower of Alexis was a woman? It was a shock. Generations of courtiers had speculated endlessly about just who the king had appointed to run one of his most important buildings – the tower was a fortress as well as a prison – but none of them had considered that the custodian might be a woman. Lady Matilda had certainly not inherited the role. And yet, as a combat sorceress, she was well-prepared to deal with any hostile prisoners.

  And she won’t be influenced by feminine wiles either, Alassa thought. She wouldn’t have lowered herself to try to seduce a guard, but others … there were plenty of stories about women being locked in the tower for offending the king. Why did none of those women reveal the truth?

  “I need to speak to my father,” Alassa said. “I …”

  “Your father will speak to you when he wishes,” Lady Matilda said. “Until then, you will be held here.”

  Alassa swallowed. “Imaiqah?”

  “She is being held here too,” Lady Matilda said. “You will not be allowed to see her, however, unless the king changes his mind.”

  She met Alassa’s eyes. “You have full run of the apartment. Should you require anything, within reason, you may ring for a maid and ask. The wards will keep you from leaving the apartment or attacking the maids. You will be given a dose of suppressant potion every two days, which you will drink. It will not harm the baby. If you refuse to drink it, you will be held down and forced to swallow. If you test my patience, you will regret it. There will be no further warnings.”

  She sounds like Lady Barb, Alassa thought.

  “I understand,” she said, reluctantly.

  “Good,” Lady Matilda said. She started to turn towards the door, then stopped. “You would not be the first member of the royal family – or a noble bloodline – to spend time in the tower, then go on to a shining career. I suggest you bear that in mind.”

  Unless there’s another heir in waiting, Alassa thought.

  She walked through the door, closing it behind her. Alassa didn’t hear a key turn in the lock, but she knew it didn’t matter. Without her magic, she couldn’t even sense the wards, led alone unlock them. Trying to open the door would merely result in punishment. And while she could endure anything for herself, she didn’t know if the baby would survive. The pregnancy was still only a few weeks old.

  Bitch, she thought, uncharitably. Lady Matilda was only following orders. She was clearly formidable, too. No woman became a combat sorcerer without being very formidable, a cut or two above their male counterparts. How do I get out of this?

  She washed her mouth out with water, then checked the food. It was better than she’d expected, given that she was in prison, but … her stomach rebelled at the thought of actually eating. She put it to o
ne side and searched the apartment. It had everything a young noblewoman could actually want, from books, clothes and needlework supplies to hot and cold running water. But there were no windows and, as far as she could tell, no other ways in or out of the apartment. Her skin itched as she remembered the wards. She would be under permanent observation. The slightest mistake might get her in real trouble.

  There’s no way out, she thought, as she walked back into the bedroom and sat on the comfortable bed. She didn’t want to admit it, but there was no point in trying to deny it. I’m trapped.

  A sense of despondency threatened to overcome her. She’d gambled and lost. Imaiqah was still a prisoner, Sir William was … she had no idea what had happened to him, but she doubted it had been pleasant. Her father … what was he thinking? What was he doing? And Jade had no idea where she was or what had happened. He might not even realize there was a problem for weeks. They’d known they were both going to be very busy.

  Mouse had plenty of time to leave the castle, Alassa told herself, firmly. And she’ll ensure that Jade gets the message.

  She looked down at her pale hands. Mouse … might not have been allowed to leave the castle, signet ring or not. And … it dawned on her that she had no idea where Mouse’s loyalties really lay. With her princess? Or with the king? She kicked herself, mentally, for not having tested Mouse more carefully. But she had never bothered to force any of her ladies to swear loyalty to her and her alone. They would have taken it poorly.

  Mouse will get the message to Master Abrams, she reassured herself. Master Abrams had no obvious ties to Jade, let alone Alassa. She didn’t think her father knew that Jade had been in quiet contact with the older man. And he’ll make sure it gets to Jade.

  She sighed as she lay back on the bed. Her father still had only one adult heir. But a legitimate grandchild was growing in Alassa’s womb and … and he had a bastard son, if he wished to retroactively legitimize the wretched child. The thought gnawed at her mind, mocking her. She’d failed; she’d failed spectacularly. Her father might try to keep her confined for the rest of her life. She might never see freedom again.

  Jade will come, she told herself. Even if the message didn’t get through, Jade wouldn’t be distracted forever. He’d come back to the castle and … and then? Her father would be ready for him. But he was a skilled magician and he knew enough to be wary …didn’t he? He wouldn’t be taken so easily. He’ll come for me.

  It wasn’t much. But it was all she had.

  End of Alassa’s Tale

  The Story Will Continue In:

  The Princess in The Tower

  Coming Soon.

  Afterword

  A long time ago, in a faraway country …

  It was, actually. I was living in Malaysia when a set of unconnected ideas jelled into Schooled in Magic. The outline endured a number of changes before I wrote the first book – and the planned series grew from fourteen novels to twenty-one as I moved along – but the basic idea remained the same. Schooled in Magic would focus on Emily and her impact on the Nameless World. It wouldn’t turn into a massive multi-POV series that would grow spectacularly out of hand.

  This had a number of advantages. Readers saw the world through Emily’s eyes, both as a person and the academic she might have become. But it also had the disadvantage of Emily’s mindset not matching the local mindset. She was – is – very much a fish out of water. The realities facing the locals – and their attitudes – are alien to her. She reacted with horror to things the locals considered perfectly normal, even necessary. It was – and remains – hard for her to accept that some things won’t change in a hurry.

  From her point of view, for example, Markus and Melissa have a right to fall in love and get married. Fulvia should certainly not be dictating Melissa’s future partner to her. But from everyone else’s point of view, Markus and Melissa are being dreadfully selfish and Emily, who turned a blind eye to their budding romance, was grossly irresponsible. A great deal rested on Melissa’s planned marriage and, when it fell apart, the after-effects echoed for years. A clan-based society generally takes a dimmer view of free love because the long-term effects can damage the entire family.

  It also had the disadvantage of making it harder to show how others viewed Emily. She had forty chapters in each book to herself, while everyone else has only the prologues and the epilogues. This sometimes made it harder to show the greater picture. I therefore decided that I would write a handful of short stories following other characters, ones who would be seeing things from the outside. Given that there would be an odd jump between Graduation Day and The Princess in the Tower, it seemed appropriate to write a story about what Alassa was doing before ending up in the tower.

  The problems facing Alassa have been quite common, in our history. Henry VIII was notoriously desperate to have a male heir, to the point of tearing England away from the Papacy and having a series of wives in the hopes one of them would give him a son. (And to some extent it worked, as Henry was succeeded by Edward VI.) However, Henry’s actions could not fail to have a baleful effect on his daughter … which was unfortunate, as the young Mary Tudor was, in many ways, very much like her father. She certainly acted swiftly and decisively when her brother died, allowing her to take the throne for herself. Who knows what would have happened if Henry had trained her to succeed him properly, rather than turning her into collateral damage? Instead, by the time she became queen, she’d been warped into a monster.

  But, at the same time, Henry had a point. Ruling Queens were almost always considered weaker than their male counterparts. They couldn’t lead troops in combat, they couldn’t rule their councillors, there was a very good chance they’d die in childbirth and, perhaps most dangerously of all, they would be expected to defer to their husbands. Mary Tudor’s marriage to Philip of Spain was disastrous, at least in part, because she allowed her wifely duties (as seen at the time) to conflict with her responsibilities to her kingdom. Elizabeth refused to marry because it would weaken her, whoever she married. And yet even this caused problems. She had no child. The question of just who would succeed her when she died was one that haunted her courtiers’ minds.

  In a sense, of course, the problem facing Ruling Queens throughout history is reflected in our present-day society. Women who win respect from men do so by being strong, independent and practical. At the same time, this is a delicate balancing act; a woman who ‘leans in’ too much will be seen as overbearing and thus trigger a rebellious response, while a woman who is too shy and retiring will be seen as weak. (This is true of men who act the same way, but other men don’t generalize this to cover all men.) Even now, maintaining such a balancing act is difficult. It requires an instinctive understanding of people that is often sorely lacking in both men and women.

  This is partly why Margaret Thatcher won a lot of genuine respect, even from her political enemies. She was capable of presenting herself in a manner that appealed to male voters. And when she realized she had miscalculated and overreached herself, she chose not to persist. She put the good of the Conservative Party ahead of herself.

  (A fictional example of this would be Commander Susan Ivanova of Babylon 5. Ivanova is likable – an important trait in a TV character – but also a person men can follow.)

  Alassa does not, in short, have an easy time of it. And precisely how this will resolve itself – for Alassa and Zangaria – remains to be seen.

  I do have several other stories in mind. One will follow Shadye as he takes the first steps towards becoming a necromancer. Another will follow Lady Barb, I think; a third may focus on Gordian. (If you have anything you want to see, please feel free to let me know.) But that really depends on just how well this story works. If you like it, and you want to see more short stories, please let me know.

  And please leave a review .

  Christopher G. Nuttall

  Edinburgh, 2017

  About the author

  Christopher G. Nuttall was born in
Edinburgh, studied in Manchester, married in Malaysia and currently living in Scotland, United Kingdom with his wife and baby son. He is the author of twenty-six novels from various publishers and over fifty self-published novels.

  Current and forthcoming titles published by Twilight Times Books

  Schooled in Magic YA fantasy series

  Schooled in Magic — book 1

  Lessons in Etiquette — book 2

  A Study in Slaughter — book 3

  Work Experience — book 4

  The School of Hard Knocks — book 5

  Love’s Labor’s Won — book 6

  Trial By Fire — book 7

  Wedding Hells — book 8

  Infinite Regress — book 9

  Past Tense — book 10

  The Sergeant’s Apprentice — book 11

  Fists of Justice – book 12

  The Gordian Knot – book 13

  Graduation Day – book 14

  Alassa’s Tale – book 14.5

  The Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire military SF series

  Barbarians at the Gates — book 1

  The Shadow of Cincinnatus — book 2

  The Barbarian Bride — book 3

  Chris has also produced The Empire’s Corps series, the Outside Context Problem series and many others. He is also responsible for two fan-made Posleen novels, both set in John Ringo’s famous Posleen universe. They can both be downloaded from his site.

  Website: http://www.chrishanger.net/

  Blog: http://chrishanger.wordpress.com/

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChristopherGNuttall