Fate's Call
Page 1
Table of Contents
Other Books by C.A. Szarek
Map of The North
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Want more Erron and Jarek?
Y is for Yours
Z is for Zethan
About the Author
Fate’s Call
A Novella from the world
of
The King’s Riders
by
C.A. Szarek
Fate’s Call
C.A. Szarek
A Novella from the world of
The King’s Riders
All rights reserved
Copyright © January, 2016, C.A. Szarek
Cover Art Copyright © 2013, Sayara-S (http://sayara-s.deviantart.com/)
Map Copyright © 2013, Matthew Bryant
Edited by Fiona Campbell
Paper Dragon Publishing
North Richland Hills, TX
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.
No part of this book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including, but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Paper Dragon Publishing or the Author.
eBook ISBN: 978-1-941151-14-3
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-941151-15-0
Published in the United States of America
First eBook Edition: January, 2016
First Paperback Edittion: February, 2016
Other Books by C.A. Szarek
The King’s Riders—Epic Fantasy Romance
Sword’s Call (Book One)
Love’s Call (Book Two)
Rogue’s Call (Book Three)
Crossing Forces—Romantic Suspense
Collision Force (Book One)
Cole in Her Stocking (A Crossing Forces Christmas)—FREE read!
Chance Collision (Book Two)
Calculated Collision (Book Three)
Collision Control (Book Four)
Superior Collision (Book Five)—Coming Soon!
Highland Secrets Trilogy—Historical Fantasy Romance
The Tartan MP3 Player (Book One)
The Fae Ring (Book Two)
The Parchment Scroll (Book Three)
Anthologies
Deep in the Hearts of Texas—FREE read!
Story: Promise (A Crossing Forces Companion)
THE NORTH
Dedication
To the ones who’ve been with me from the beginning! You know who you are!
A Note to the reader:
Like the two “alphabet” stories at the end of this book, Erron and Jarek were “born” to me in the form of a serial on my blog. This was before I was published (also mentioned at the end of this story, so make sure you check that out) and this is their story, but it’s been edited and expanded to include new chapters and details that weren’t there when it was in serial form.
I adored them when we “met” and I couldn’t wait to revamp and share them with the world. So, if you’ve read the original version, please keep reading, the 2nd time around is so much better, expanded and edited!
If you’re new to this story, I hope you adore it as much as I do!
Happy reading!
Chapter One
Erron ran.
Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision, but still she forced one foot in front of the other. Moving forward.
I have to go. I have to get away.
Her chest heaved and her lungs burned, aching as she pushed air down and forced her muscles to work harder than they were used to.
Most likely, she wouldn’t get away.
He’d probably punish her for trying to flee but…she had to try.
She couldn’t deal with her father anymore.
Erron was done with his flippant moods, his heavy hand…and his rapes.
Move. Go. Faster!
Sweat beaded her brow, dripped down her cheeks and even into her eyes, but she didn’t pause. She had to go.
Since she’d turned eleven or so, and even before developing breasts or starting her monthly cycles, he had…taken what only a wife should be expected to give willingly.
Making it into the market center, she continued on. It was busy and loud. Perhaps she could really disappear.
But where would she go?
Erron glanced over her shoulder, then skittered around shops displaying their wares outside open doors in the warm spring morning. The sun was high in the cloudless clear blue sky, welcoming and bright.
It belied her urgency. Her terror.
Stalls and tables were crowded as people perused or bartered over their items. A man cursed as she bolted around him, then another small group of three, making them jump apart.
She ignored them, keeping her legs in motion though they burned, calves throbbing as her muscles flexed.
Erron dashed through an alley and down an almost empty street. She was moving toward the outskirts of town now, nearing Lower Dalunas—not the best part of the Province. But the prospect of brothels and less than reputable taverns didn’t scare her more than her father did.
What will he do when he catches you?
No. She couldn’t think like that. She didn’t regret taking this chance, and needed to make the situation the best she could.
Exhaustion was settling over her bones, begging her to stop, rest. Collapse. She panted puffs of air.
No. Keep. Going.
Her chest burned and her heart pounded, but she couldn’t stop now.
She turned into another alley, risking another glimpse behind her. Was her father there? Did he know she’d run? Erron didn’t slow, but the movement made her feet falter and she stumbled. Her line of vision wobbled and the edge of her shoe caught her skirt.
Down she went, throwing her hands out just in time to avoid landing on her face. Pain shot up her wrists as they absorbed the impact of her body, and her knees smarted because her dress wasn’t padding enough on the hard ground.
“Oomph,” whistled from her mouth. Her breath was gone now; she had to concentrate to get any air down. Her temples pounded with rushing blood, but she couldn’t muster the strength to push herself off the ground, let alone to her feet. Her head swarmed with dizziness, but Erron refused to pass out.
“Are you all right?”
She startled and tremors rushed down her spine. The voice was male, and she fought a full body shudder.
Where had he even come from? She’d not seen anyone when she’d entered the alley.
“Miss?”
Oh. Right. He’d spoken to her and awaited an answer. Erron tried to nod. Had her head even moved? Her thick blonde plait fell forward. Escaped wisps tickled her cheek and forehead.
“Here, let me help you.”
Brown hide boots entered her line of sight, then a hand. It was large and calloused, but something made her want to take it. She lifted an aching wrist and placed shaking fingers into his.
Warm. His touch was warm and firm.
Strong.
She looked up as he pulled her to her feet without effort. Her eyes scanned his face and locked onto his. B
rown. All Erron saw was a dark gaze that made her stomach flip.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
Dark brows drew together as he studied her; Erron couldn’t find her voice. He was so handsome, with high cheekbones and clean-shaven cheeks. He was concerned for her, too; it was all written over his expression.
Erron’s heart stuttered. No one had ever looked at her like that before. Tears pricked her eyes.
He was tall and lean, dark hair shaggy and in need of a trim. He wore a dark leather apron over his tan long-sleeved linen tunic and brown breeches. Whatever his trade, he was a hard worker.
She yanked her hand from his grip and looked away. “I’m fine. Thank you,” she whispered. Erron jumped as his fingertips brushed her jaw.
He gripped her chin, guiding her face back to him.
I need to get away.
Erron didn’t know this man; why was she letting him touch her? But when she met his deep brown eyes, she fell into their depths. She froze in place.
He wasn’t hurting her. She wasn’t afraid of him.
His touch sank into her skin, warmth spreading down her neck and into her shoulders. The gesture was casual and comforting…and wholly unfamiliar. It left her wanting more of his…gentleness.
“Why are you crying?” the man whispered.
Erron blinked. Her tears were still flowing? How did I not know?
“Are you injured?” he repeated.
“No.”
His gaze raked up and down her body, those brows still tight. Like he didn’t believe her.
“Erron.” The barked demand in her name made her tremble.
Her heart plummeted to her toes.
No! He found me.
It had been inevitable, right?
Her rescuer’s hands fell from her face, and his eyes pulled away, settling over her shoulder on her father.
She didn’t turn, but she sensed him behind her.
Erron clenched her jaw to fight the shudder. Had to steel her limbs. They weren’t shaking from her hard run. Fear settled over her, chasing away the tender warmth of the stranger’s touch. She wanted to bolt, but it wouldn’t do her any good.
He was going to beat her. Or worse.
Erron swallowed and fought a wince.
The man in front of her noticed. He said nothing, but his gaze went over her shoulder and then back to her face.
Could he sense her fear? Would he act on it?
Erron chided herself, No one will save me.
“Jarek? What’s taking you so long?” Another male voiced sounded, making her jump.
Her eyes darted to the doorway to her left, several feet from where they were standing. Most likely it was the back entry of a shop.
There was a large leather bag at her rescuer’s feet she hadn’t noticed before. He’d probably been sent to discard the refuse.
The man filling the frame was an older version of the man before her, his hair streaked with gray, but his face just as handsome as who had to be his son, standing in front of her. He wiped his hands on a linen cloth as he leaned on the doorframe, irritation etched in his expression and his head cocked to one side.
“Coming, Father,” her rescuer responded without looking away from her.
Erron’s father stepped up to them. He didn’t hesitate to grab her upper arm, his fingers biting into her muscles until pain shot down to her elbow.
He pulled her off-balance and she took a step back, but it didn’t keep her from slamming into his hard chest. Erron winced.
“Erron, come along,” he ordered, his tone gruff.
Fear washed over her and she sucked in air. Needed to make her head stop spinning. She looked at the stranger and tried to focus on his eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Jarek. The man called him Jarek.
He still stood by her as she shivered in her father’s grip, giving the barest nod of acknowledgment, before Jarek’s gaze studied her father.
Her stomach roiled.
“Is everything all right?” the older man in the doorway asked, pushing off the building to come toward them.
Her father chuckled and she bit back a whimper. “Aye. My daughter and I were in the market, and I sent her to look for the blacksmith; do you know of one?” The lie fell from his lips, light as always, and very convincing.
The older man relaxed, but her rescuer did not. He continued to stare at her, then her father and back.
Erron shifted on her feet, her face hot; no doubt she was three shades of red. It was as though Jarek could see through her. Part of her liked that; part of her was petrified her father would perceive something that wasn’t there. Something that would make her punishment worse.
“Yes, you’re not far from the blacksmith. He’s the next street over, but all the storefronts are on the opposite of the alleys. This is the back end,” Jarek’s father said.
“Thank you.” Her father inclined his head. “Let’s go, Erron. It’s always like you to get lost.” The slight admonition held the promise of violence.
She blinked away new tears and sniffled, fighting more quivers. Running had been the worst idea she’d ever had, and in the end, wouldn’t be worth the price. Erron looked away from her rescuer, because she didn’t want Jarek to notice any more than he already had. She couldn’t look at her father’s face, either.
“My son and I run the finest tanning shop in the Province if you’re in need of anything. Jarek here makes the best deer hide boots around. Better than any cobbler.” He slapped his son on the back.
Erron’s father gave a very false smile. “We’ll keep that in mind.”
Jarek’s gaze still burned into her.
“Please do. Good day.” The older tanner inclined his head.
Erron’s father did the same again. She didn’t miss the glare he sent Jarek’s way. He must’ve noticed that the younger man was staring at her.
“Good day,” she muttered in return.
Jarek’s gaze never faltered, although he did return her gesture.
Her father yanked her down the alley, away from Jarek.
Erron’s stomach somersaulted. She would never see him again.
That…felt…wrong. Why?
Tightening his grip, her father’s step quickened. As his stride was much longer than her own, he was dragging her and his fingers dug into her flesh even more.
She’d bruise, but that was nothing new. Most likely, black and blue marks on her arm were going to be the least of her worries. When they got home.
Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to shed them for him anymore this day.
Erron squared her shoulders and did her best to keep up with him.
****
Jarek watched the stunning girl leave the alley with the man who’d called himself her father.
Instinct screamed at him. Hit him in the gut as sure as a fist and spread all over his body, making him jumpy.
Something’s wrong.
She’d been terrified. Shaking. That’d only worsened when the bastard joined them. The grip on her arm hadn’t looked violent, but he hadn’t missed the girl’s wince. So, he’d hurt her as well as scared her.
“Son?” his father asked.
He shook himself but the worries didn’t exit his mind.
Erron.
Her name was Erron and she had to be the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. She wasn’t tall, would barely come up his shoulder, and on the slender side—willowy, actually, as if she’d missed too many meals. Her pale blonde hair had been in a thick plait that landed at her tiny waist. Her dress had been as blue as her eyes, an older style with puffy sleeves and a higher neckline, but it hadn’t hid the outline of her generous breasts.
Jarek never liked to see females upset, but looking into her petrified gaze had been different. The tears on her cheeks just about killed him. And he didn’t even know her.
Why had he touched her? The move had been…something he’d had to do. Hadn’t even questioned the urge.
“Jarek?”
His father put his hand on his arm and squeezed. “Is something wrong?”
He turned, meeting the dark eyes so like his own, and forced a smile. “Do you know that man?”
“No.” Brows drawn together, his father shook his head.
“Ever seen him at market?”
“Not that I can recall. What’s wrong?”
“Something…something about what happened doesn’t seem right, Da.”
“Oh?”
His father was too trusting. Always had been. Jarek shook his head. “Never mind. I’m going to dump this,” he gestured to the garbage that had brought him out back in the alley in the first place. “Go inside, I’ll meet you shortly.”
“All right. Don’t toss that sack, it’s got use left in it yet. Hurry, we’ve work to finish.” His father smiled.
He had trouble returning the smile. “Aye, Da. Of course.”
Jarek handled his task quickly and headed back into their shop.
His thoughts were of nothing but Erron. He had to find her. He needed to see her again.
He didn’t have much magic; he could light a fire with his mind and do a few spells here and there, mostly related to his tanning trade. Jarek was no empath, but he’d always had good instincts. Never questioned his gut.
Something was off about Erron’s father. The man was dangerous.
Jarek didn’t know if he believed the man’s claim that they were looking for the blacksmith, even if the shop was close. Or when the man explained Erron had a tendency to get lost. She hadn’t look worried over something so simple. She’d been shaking. Terrified.
Why?
He needed to make sure she was all right.
Chapter Two