But no, it wasn’t Grey’s child, would never be his child, regardless of how it was created. Just as Ennis could no longer be her cousin, but one of her many guardsmen, his face shrouded beneath his helm. She would never be able to tell her people the truth about him.
But she would tell her people the truth about how she would soon have an heir. At first they would be in shock. How could Rhea the Righteous, Rhea the Pure, Rhea the Brave, be with child? How could she have committed such a grievous sin out of wedlock? And with whom?
And that’s when she would make the declaration that would secure her place in history, more so than even her momentous victory in the Bay of Bounty.
“I am a virgin,” she said now, practicing her facial control. “My child is born of Wrath.”
And they would believe her, raising her pedestal even higher, all the way to the heavens.
Yes, she would have her war, and they would be her pawns as she seized the Four Kingdoms by the throat.
Want to know more about your favorite characters from Fatemarked? Grab Fatemarked Origins Volume I and Volume II for eleven short stories from the Four Kingdoms, featuring the origin stories of Gwendolyn Storm, Tarin Sheary, Shanti Parthena Laude, and Bear Blackboots!
And keep reading for a sample of Soulmarked, Book 3 in the Fatemarked Epic, available NOW!
A personal note from David…
If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a positive review on Amazon.com. Without reviews on Amazon.com, I wouldn’t be able to write for a living, which is what I love to do! Thanks for all your incredible support and I look forward to reading your reviews.
The Fatemarked
(d)= deceased
***For a complete online listing of sigils, symbols and fatemarks from The Fatemarked Epic: http://davidestesbooks.blogspot.com/p/fatemarked-sigils-symbols-and-fatemarks.html
Lifemarked- Roan Loren (the Peacemaker)
Deathmarked- Bane Gäric (the Kings’ Bane)
Halfmarked- Shae Arris
Swordmarked- Sir Dietrich
(d) Icemarked- the Ice Lord
Ironmarked- Beorn Stonesledge
Heromarked- Gwendolyn Storm
(d) Firemarked- Fire Sandes
Plaguemarked- the Beggar
(d) Slavemarked- Vin Hoza
Justicemarked- Jai Jiroux
Royal Genealogy of the Four Kingdoms (three generations)
(d)= deceased
The Northern Kingdom (capital city: Castle Hill)
(d) Wilhelm Gäric (the Undefeated King)
(d) Ida Gäric
Born to Wilhelm and Ida:
Helmuth Gäric (the Maimed Prince)
(d) Wolfric Gäric (the Dread King, political marriage to western princess, Sabria Loren)
(d) Griswold Gäric (usurper)
Zelda Gäric (childless)
Born to Griswold:
Dirk Gäric
Born to Wolfric and Sabria:
Annise Gäric
Archer Gäric
Bane Gäric (The Kings’ Bane)
The Western Kingdom (capital city: Knight’s End)
(d) Ennis Loren
(d) Mira Loren
Born to Ennis and Mira:
(d) Gill Loren (married to Cecilia Thorne Loren)
(d) Ty Loren
(d) Sabria Loren (political marriage to Wolfric Gäric)
Born to Ty:
(d) Jove Loren
Sai Loren
Wheaton Loren
Gaia Loren
Ennis Loren
Born to Gill and Cecilia:
Roan Loren
Rhea Loren
Bea Loren
Leo Loren
The Eastern Kingdom (capital city: Ferria in Ironwood)
(d) Hamworth Ironclad
(d) Lydia Ironclad
Born to Hamworth and Lydia:
(d) Coren Ironclad (Thunder)
(d) Oren Ironclad (the Juggernaut, married to Henna Redfern Ironclad)
Born to Coren:
Hardy Ironclad
Born to Oren and Henna:
Gareth Ironclad (the Shield)
(d) Guy Ironclad
Grian Ironclad
The Southern Empires
Empire of Calyp (capital city: Calypso)
(d) Jak Sandes
(d) Riza Sandes
Born to Jak and Riza:
(d) Sun Sandes (the First Daughter, marriage union to Vin Hoza, emperor of Phanes, now severed)
Windy Sandes (the Second Daughter, childless)
Viper Sandes (the Third Daughter, childless)
Born to Sun and Vin:
Raven Sandes (the First Daughter)
(d) Fire Sandes (the Second Daughter)
Whisper Sandes (the Third Daughter)
Empire of Phanes (capital city: Phanea)
(d) Jin Hoza
(d) Dai Hoza
Born to Jin and Dai:
(d) Vin Hoza (marriage union to Sun Sandes, empress of Calyp, now severed)
(d) Rin Hoza
(d) Shin Hoza
Also born to Vin and Sun:
Falcon Hoza
Fang Hoza
Fox Hoza
Acknowledgments
When I finished Truthmarked, it was the longest book I’d ever written. The third book in the series turned out to be longer, but it doesn’t change the fact that Truthmarked is the book that taught me how much stamina as a writer I truly have. And that’s a necessity when writing an epic fantasy series.
That being said, I had A LOT of help along the way.
First and foremost, to Piero, my cover artist, your covers are absolute perfection. It’s like you’re in my head! Well done and thank you. (Secretly I believe Piero is artmarked, so technically he cheats.)
To my loyal beta readers, Laurie Love, Elizabeth Love, Karen Benson, Kerri Hughes, Terri Thomas, Abalee Cook, and Daniel Elison. I keep feeding you longer and longer books and you keep sending them back my way with more and more red ink on them. Thanks for fixing my own foolishness.
A very special thank you to Beverly Laude, who won a character naming contest, and came up with Shanti Parthena Laude, a beautiful name that just happened to be perfect for one of my characters. You truly are a Peaceful Maiden of Highest Honor!
Last and most definitely not least, to my readers, gah. You surprise me at every turn in the best of ways. Thanks for supporting me, my family, and my dream. I write for you.
The saga continues in other books by David Estes available through the author’s official website:
http://davidestesbooks.blogspot.com
or through select online retailers including Amazon.com.
High Fantasy Novels by David Estes
The Fatemarked Epic:
Book One—Fatemarked
Book Two—Truthmarked
Book Three—Soulmarked
Book Four—Deathmarked (coming soon!)
Book Five—Lifemarked (coming soon!)
Fatemarked Origins:
Volume I
Volume II
Volume III (coming soon!)
Volume IV (coming soon!)
Volume V (coming soon!)
Science Fiction Novels by David Estes
“Someone must die before another can be born…”
The Slip Trilogy:
Book One—Slip
Book Two—Grip
Book Three—Flip
One of “15 Series to Read if You Enjoyed The Hunger Games”—Buzzfeed.com
The Dwellers Saga (also available in audiobook):
Book One—The Moon Dwellers
Book Two—The Star Dwellers
Book Three—The Sun Dwellers
Book Four—The Earth Dwellers
“Fire Country is a fast, fierce read.”—Emmy Laybourne, author of Monument 14
The Country Saga (A Dwellers Saga sister series)(also available in audiobook):
Book One—Fire Country
Book Two—Ice Country
Book Thr
ee—Water & Storm Country
Book Four—The Earth Dwellers
Strings (also available in audiobook)
“The Walking Dead for teens, with ruthless witches instead of bloodthirsty zombies.”—Katie Reed, agent at Andrea Hurst & Associates
Salem’s Revenge:
Book One—Brew
Book Two—Boil
Book Three—Burn
Connect with David Estes Online
David Estes Fans and YA Book Lovers Unite
Facebook
Blog/website
About the Author
David Estes was born in El Paso, Texas but moved to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania when he was very young. He grew up in Pittsburgh and then went to Penn State for college. Eventually he moved to Sydney, Australia where he met his wife and soul mate, Adele, who he’s now happily married to.
A reader all his life, David began writing science fiction and fantasy novels in 2010, and has published more than 20 books. In June of 2012, David became a fulltime writer and is now living in Hawaii with Adele, their energetic son, Beau, and their naughty, asthmatic cat, Bailey.
A sample of SOULMARKED, Book 3 in the Fatemarked Epic by David Estes
Available NOW!
Chapter One
The Hinterlands, beyond the bounds of the Northern Kingdom, Circa 532
Lisbeth Lorne
She arrived in the midst of a storm, in the deepest throes of night.
Born of thunder and lightning and howling wind and needles of sleet, she was a spell incarnated, the product of magic and faith and a power beyond human understanding. She was the daughter of Absence and Wrath and Surai, the many-named gods of the south, the Creator, the One responsible for Life and all those who claimed it.
You shall be Lisbeth Lorne, a voice said. It wasn’t a shout, but a whisper, nearly lost on the wind.
“Lisbeth Lorne,” the girl tried. She laughed at the way it sounded on her tongue. She laughed at the coolness of the snow settling on her face and hands. She laughed at how the fabric of her pale blue dress felt against her smooth skin. She laughed because she was, inexplicably, alive.
Unlike the other humans that walked the face of the planet, she remembered the time before; a time when she was naught but a soul, a ribbon of light, free from the bounds of gravity and human nature, free from deception and violence and disappointment and foolish decisions. In those days, those eternities, she sang with the stars, spoke with the sun, slept with the moons.
She was free.
And yet now, trapped in this body, held fast to the ground, there was something liberating, astonishingly exciting—a giddy feeling in her lungs and chest, the simultaneous cold of snow against the warmth of the blood running through her veins.
I am alive.
The truth of the thought echoed through her, and she took off, stumbling over the drifts at first, her new knees knocking together, her new arms awkward at her sides. As the wind splashed against her smile, she fell less and less as she learned, as she found her balance.
Instinctively, she knew she saw the world differently than others. Some would call her blind, but that wasn’t exactly true. She might not be able to see the outward physical nature of her surroundings, but what she saw held far more truth; for she saw the soul of every living thing, pulsing, alive, the truth behind a wall of lies, a single grain of sand amongst billions.
She relished the joy of dancing across the soul of the world, feeling it breathe beneath her feet.
Hours later, the night began to fall away, and she stopped, tumbling to the snow, breathing ghosts into the lightening sky.
A wolf howled. Then another.
She sat up, looking around. They weren’t wolves—for they didn’t have the cool blue souls of wolves, ever stalwart—but something else, something larger, their inner beings red slashes of lightning, hungry, ever hungry. There were ten, twenty, a hundred, a sea of predators racing over the snowy hills, cresting one and descending another, starting up the final slope to where Lisbeth sat catching her breath.
Riding each beast were other souls, a combination of light and dark, bold and fearless and intense. They were violent shadows that had tasted blood.
Something pulsed through her: Not fear, exactly; more like curiosity.
The first of them reached the hill’s apex, skidding to a halt. Though blind in the typical sense, she sensed the weapons: spears raised, shoved forward, their blades surrounding her.
“Uz nom nath kahlia!” one of them said, a grunt that seemed to come from the deepest part of his throat. You have broken the pact, Lisbeth understood.
“Iz nom klar,” she spoke, the rough words hurting her throat. I have just arrived.
The one who spoke, perhaps the leader, cocked his head to the side, his soul displaying the gray tide of confusion. “Uz Gurz hom shuf? Cut?” You speak Garzi? How?
“I don’t know,” Lisbeth said, instinctively reverting back to the language that felt more comfortable.
“Filth language,” the creature said. “Now you must die.”
He raised his spear over his head just as the sun appeared, orange rays reflecting tongues of flame across the blade. This Lisbeth could see, though it was naught but flashes of light on the edge of her vision.
Lisbeth closed her eyes. She wasn’t ready to die; she had only just arrived.
Bright blue light burst from her forehead, piercing the vision of the multitude gathered before her, both riders and beasts. The Garzi cried out, their voices raised together, their weapons dropped as they tried to cover their eyes.
In that moment, she revealed their souls at all their extremes. The darkness. The lightness. The pain. The betrayal. The fear. The joy.
The light died away, revealing the mark on Lisbeth’s head: a single, blue eye.
The Garzi warriors crashed from their mounts, screaming, scrubbing at their ears, at their eyes, at their heads. The beasts fled, abandoning their masters, knocking into each other in their haste to escape.
Rivulets of blood streamed from noses and ears, streaking the snow.
Even once it was over, the fallen warriors continued to shake, wracked with shivers though they were not cold.
Lisbeth opened her eyes. Her other eye, marked on her forehead, vanished, leaving her skin as pristine as freshly fallen snow.
She saw what she had done—hundreds of souls, cracked, wracked with pain—placed her face in her hands, and wept.
Chapter Two
The Northern Kingdom, Castle Hill
Annise Gäric
The night was a snow-haired queen wearing a crown of stars. The queen’s eyes were the moons, one green, half open, and the other red, just a sliver peeking out from behind a dark eyelid.
Annise sighed, wishing that being a real queen was as magical as the false one in the sky. Instead it was full of impossible decisions, unbearable sacrifices, and a lifetime’s worth of heartache.
Frozen Lake stretched out in front of her, disappearing on the horizon, reflecting moon and starlight. What secrets do you hold? Annise wondered to the night.
The urge to relinquish the crown back to her younger brother, Archer, and depart Castle Hill to find Tarin still arose from time to time, but she tamped it down. That was something the old Annise would do. The new Annise would fight for her people, her kingdom. The new Annise wasn’t selfish.
Then why do I have to keep telling myself?
She turned away from the night, shivering despite the warm blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The temperature had dropped the last few days, ever since that night when Archer finally opened his eyes. With his awakening, it seemed, winter had awakened as well.
Annise slipped back inside, closing the door to her balcony behind her. Warmth from the hearth instantly unfroze her bones, causing her skin to tingle.
Archer was sitting up in bed, staring at her.
She couldn’t help it—she flinched. Though, for the last three days, her brother had been waking up more and more and for
longer periods of time, it was still a shock whenever he did. It was like she’d grown so accustomed to his unconsciousness that him sleeping seemed more natural than him being awake.
“Does my face truly scare you, sister?” Arch said, smiling weakly.
I remember when his smile used to light up the entire kingdom, Annise thought. Now it doesn’t even light up his face.
She released a breathy laugh, pulling her blanket tighter against her skin. “Only the awakeness of it.” In truth, his face did scare her a little. His skin was far too pale, save for the dark half-moons under each eye. Worse, his cheeks were too skinny, the bones protruding at sharp angles. This sum total of the changes was that he looked even more like their youngest sibling, Bane, than she’d like to admit. Bane, the same brother who’d sent Archer into unconsciousness in the first place, she reminded herself, not losing the irony.
He yawned. “Shall I go back to sleep?”
“No,” Annise said quickly. “Well, yes. That is, if you’re tired, you should sleep.” The healer was strict in her instructions: Archer should continue to sleep for long periods in order to let his body fully recover from the injuries suffered at Raider’s Pass.
“I’m tired, but I don’t want to sleep ever again,” Arch said. “I’ve got bedsores all over my body—my back, my legs, my—”
“I’m sure your many admirers will rub a soothing balm on them for you,” Annise cut in.