Category: Fantasy Publisher: EDGE Science Fiction & Fantasy
ISBN-10: 1894063414
Type: Fiction
Pages: 253
Copyright: August 15, 2007
ISBN-13: 9781890463418
When the Oracle of Delphi tells Ares, Greek God of War, that he is to find a Champion of the Gods in a very lowly place, so begins an epic story of timeless love, adventure, and honour, a story that will cross time itself and outlive the Gods in many ways - Find her and you will find the saviour...
In an Ancient World, the Fates decree that a Champion is to be found. A mortal who will become immortal and one day be more real than the Gods she is meant to defend.
Ares is the unlikely Guardian of the decree of the Fates, and it is he who roams the slave markets of Athens and finds the woman who will be their Champion. He trains her, watches over her, and waits for her mortal life to take its course and bring her to her Destiny - Him.
In Modern Athens, 1999, a new threat emerges, and the timeless champion is once again called upon to take her place in defence of the Olympian Gods she will always serve.
History moves in circles, and as she learns to find her way, Amarantha also learns that nothing is ever finished, and some loves are more eternal than she could have ever imagined....
Excerpt
Amarantha deflected another of the endless series of parries that he'd directed at her throughout the morning. His gift had been a specially tailored outfit of leather and armor, something she was gradually getting used to. It was slowing her, and he was relentless in forcing her to maintain her defense.
"Please..." She stumbled beneath the impact of his great sword clashing with her lighter weapon, and her knees buckled as her grip gave way and the sword fell to the deck. She knelt before him, gasping and weakened. "Enough!"
"Do you think an enemy is going to give you time to catch your breath?" he snarled angrily. "Get up!"
She shook her head.
"I can't!"
He landed another glancing blow, pleased when she automatically moved to deflect the strike with the heavy leather wrist guards he'd fashioned for her. She rolled away, grabbed the fallen weapon and tried to regain her footing, only to stumble and slip to her knees again. She dropped the sword and glared at him.
"If you intend to kill me, do it!" she yelled, anger and weariness in her rasping voice.
He shrugged and stepped closer, his sword raised to deliver the killing blow. He laughed when she yelped in shock and dove for her sword. As his blade descended, she raised the gleaming length of the finely honed sword, caught the arc of his swing and scrambled to her feet as sparks showered from the clashing weapons.
Fear motivated her now, and she was inwardly shaking with combined terror and rage. His skill was always a marvel, but today he matched it with ferocious, unrelenting determination. She began to believe that he did, in fact, want to kill her with this session.
The battle had reached a standstill, neither gaining advantage, yet he continued to attack, repeatedly forcing her to defend herself. Amarantha's muscles were aching, her grip growing slippery with sweat as she ignored the blazing sun that no longer blinded her as it had when their voyage began. It was difficult to hear even the waves above the roar of heartbeat and laboured breathing; he was calm and relaxed, a thing which frequently infuriated her further.
He landed a flat-sided strike to her back and she fell face down on the deck. Exhaustion settled on her as dead weight in her limbs. She waited, certain he would make the final strike a smooth, honorable death. She rose stiffly, muscles screaming objection to the imposed movement as she prepared to face him.
"You prove me right yet again," he told her with a small bow of his head. "You should be pleased."
She stared, disbelief making her gape at him. If she planned a response, it faded as the afternoon sun suddenly turned to grey haze before her eyes. Her body was liquid, and she knew she was fainting in spite of her efforts to prevent revealing the weakness. An instant later, she was taken aback completely when he lifted her into his arms and carried her down to the cabin that was her sanctuary.
He stayed at her side long after she'd fallen into spent slumber, and was still present when she woke. Instead of the wariness that his presence would once have evoked, Amarantha appeared genuinely pleased to find him with her.
Behind his careful smile, he dared to believe that he'd been right in choosing her.
* * *
Thrace was a wild, primitive country, and the men who greeted the vessel as they docked made her wonder what her chances of survival truly were now that they had reached their destination.
"Master?"
She was no longer awkward or angry when she used the title, and he smiled slightly as he stopped at her side.
"Why Thrace?"
"Here we can finish what needs to be done," he replied enigmatically. "Without the interference of," he paused, considered, then laughed softly, "my family," he concluded.
"Your family would object to you training a slave?" Amarantha looked closely at him, then touched his arm. "Or is it the owning of a slave that would displease them?"
He laughed with genuine amusement, and brushed her cheek with surprisingly gentle fingers. "No, owning slaves would not offend their sensibilities, little one," he assured her. "But my reasons for wanting you might not be welcomed by all."
"You will not explain that, will you?" she asked, and followed him automatically when he stepped onto the plank that would allow them to again stand on firm ground.
When he ignored the query, she nodded and continued to trail after him. The attention she garnered kept her close to him, and she was inwardly fascinated by the combination of fear and reverence with which he was greeted, and avoided.
They reached a stable and he was immediately brought the most magnificent stallion that she'd ever seen, a horse even more beautiful than the one she'd ridden in Athens. The animal's coat gleamed blue-black in the afternoon sunshine, and he was as regal as the rider who presently stroked his sleek neck.
"You can choose the mount you wish when we reach the castle," he informed her, then placed her on the stallion's back before she could object. A moment later, his arms encircled her as he settled behind her.
The castle wasn't far from the dock; she spotted it looming in the distance long before they ever reached the uneven road that led to it.
"This is your home?"
"It's to be your home from now on," he stated quietly.
Puzzled by the vague reply, Amarantha held her tongue and enjoyed the savage beauty of the land as they drew ever nearer the brooding palace.
* * *
He watched, hidden in shadows, as she waded into the pool and permitted the crystalline waters of the fall to pour over her. Even with the distance, he could feel her weariness, the ache in her muscles that had lessened over the past years' training, but never abated entirely. She'd been an apt pupil, as he'd known she would be. Shortly after their arrival in Thrace, he'd given her this garden paradise as a reward for her skill and diligence. She came here often, and he watched each time. The waters were warm, clear, and soothing; the only touch she would allow in the wake of their grueling practice sessions.
He smiled. She would, in time, desire other caresses from him. He'd sensed their entwined destiny for many, many years; yet it was only chance that had driven him to seek the slave markets that day. Apollo's Oracle spoke truths to Gods as well as men, and Ares, proud God of War, was no exception. Amarantha was an instrument of Fate, and she would, one day, serve him willingly--in all ways.
The War God maintained his secret observance, his body caught in the thrill of anticipation, savouring the expectations and the possibilities. He preferred to ignore the deeper knowledge he held in his mind; the awareness that another would hold her long before she would accept him. A God owned her--but a mortal man possessed her woman's heart. Ares was a jealous lover, and it took all his restraint to resist the temptation to simply kill his rival before he would take the warrior's innocence. Ares was also a patient God when it suited his need; he would wait.
Past the passions that had grown and been nurtured in utmost secrecy, reason was stemming the God's rage in a way that he rarely employed. If Zeus knew, too soon, he could conceivably alter the course of his son's destiny and desire.
Ares would permit no one to change what the Fates had set in motion...
Thank you, Cass, and Resia - I seldom stop in here, so clearly I have been missing messages. I'm glad you both liked the book. Blessings, always - Denyse
This book is amazing. The description is fantastic, and the book grabs and demands your attention from the first paragraph. As Fate Decrees is a book to enjoy when you've carved out some time, because you won't be able to put it down!
An ex-soldier, now turned farmer, wakes one day to find mysterious marks on his hands and wrists. All seems well until black riders appear and kidnap his family. On his journey to recover his lost loved ones and to discover the meaning of the strange
