Unwilling (Book One of the Compelled Trilogy 1) (7 page)

His entire life in one bag, albeit a big bag, but one bag nonetheless. He had been compacted down to nothing more than a few shirts some herbs and a few medical tools, shoved into a dilapidated faded blue bag given to him by a woman who would one day break his heart and leave him alone with an infant daughter.

Vordis sat on a bed meant to hold the sick, possibly the dying, but only held air and cruel whispers that were starting to leak back into his mind.

Incompetent.

To old.

Not good enough.

He hunched down further, feeling the weight of the world and its silence crushing him, pushing him in on himself, just an old man with a hunched back. Incompetent. To old. Not good enough. He sat there until Rowan and Jace returned, when he squared his shoulders and marched out the front door. The last thing he heard before the door closed behind him was the sound of that obnoxious door bell, and he wondered briefly if he would ever hear its sound again.

FIVE

SIX MONTHS AGO- FEBURARY

Jace wondered what she thought about, when she sat so pensively like that, her eyes a blue haze as if she had left her body and was floating on a cloud somewhere. He hoped she thought about good things. What the world could be instead of what it was. Maybe she thought of her child hood, and of her parents. She never talked about her past, or much about herself at all. No one knew much about her really, just about her brother. Just what he could do.

Jace gathered his fur around him, letting the warm coat try to stave off the coldness that had gathered around him. As he sat there in silence looking at the lazy way the water in the river swirled downstream, it was hard for him not to get sucked into thoughts of the past, and with Rowan sitting just a few dizzying feet away it was practically hard for him not to think about their past…

NINE YEARS AGO- FEBURARY

“Come here to me Jace, your ma and I would like to talk to you.” His father said, gesturing to Jace from across the room. Jace huffed, dropping his wooden monster carving to the floor.

“What?” He asked grumpily, impatient to get back to his imaginary play.

“You will talk to your father with respect young man.” His mother reprimanded gently and Jace’s round cheeks grew red in shame.

“Sorry ma, sorry pa.” He said, sitting on the sofa opposite the chair his father sat in, tucking his hands into his lap so he wouldn’t fidget. His ma sat on the arm of the chair and his father’s strong hand rested along her back, absently stroking it out of habit.

“How would you feel about coming to Market with me?” His father asked, looking intently at Jace.

“You mean every day?” Jace asked, trying hard to contain his excitement.
Leave the house every day? Of course!

“Well a young man needs to learn the way of business if he has any hopes of making himself into something when he’s grown. And now that your tenth birthday’s almost here I think it’s time for you to start learning.” His father’s deep voice responded thoughtfully, and his mother smiled beside him at her child’s joy.

“Oh yes!” Jace exclaimed bouncing up and down in his seat.

“Of course, you still have to keep up with your lessons.” His mother reminded him in the airy way she talked, her white teeth shining as she smiled at him, a wrinkle crinkling in the corner of her left eye, laughing lines, his father called them.

“I promise I’ll do so well! And I’ll pay the best attention, I swear, I’ll learn better than anyone else!” Jace said animatedly, bouncing slightly in his seat. Jace’s mother laughed, and even his normally serious father cracked a smile.

“I’ll hold you to it.” His father said, nodding his head once in Jace’s direction. “Now what were you playing over there?” His father asked scooping Jace off the couch under his armpits and soaring him through the air back to where he had sat on the worn rug.

“I was playing monsters, and this big guy was going to eat all these little guys!” Jace exclaimed, his eyes growing wide as his father grabbed his monster block and mocked eating Jace with it. Jace shrieked with laughter and ran, his father chasing after him.

“Outside! Boys!” His mother shrieked as they ran by her nearly knocking her from the arm of the chair.

“Sorry my sunshine.” His father said behind him, and Jace stuck out his tongue as his pa kissed his ma.
Gross.
Jace thought, and it quickly flitted away as his father resumed his chase, his ma laughing as they made their way into the yard. 

                                          ҉              ҉              ҉

Jace had stuck adamantly to his promise to pay good attention to everything his father had to teach him. For the first week or so. It was just so boring! It was the same thing every single time. Someone would come to their booth and pa would ask how so and so’s children were, and they would say ‘fine thank you, can I get some’ –insert baked product here- and they would smile, pay pa and go on their way.

So on the ninth day of coming to Market Jace was resting his chin in his palms and imagining a huge monster that towered into the sky, and all the people in the Market were screaming and shoving each other as they ran in terror from the gigantic monster. It had scaly skin and razor sharp teeth and picked people up in its massive claws, crunching the booths between its gigantic green feet, and-

“Jace are you listening to me?” Jace’s father said, startling him from his imaginings.

“Of-“
course,
Jace finished in his head, a bright yellow color distracting his eye among the dull gray and dark blue clothes. “Who is that?” Jace asked his father, pointing at the girl in the yellow dress.

“Those are the doctor’s children. You remember Doctor Chase, you met him this past winter for your cough?” Of course Jace remembered Doctor Chase, his parents had insisted on calling on him even though he told them he did not need any doctor, he was a man and men do not need checkups.

“Oh.” Jace replied distractedly. His stomach doing silly flip flops that made him want to wiggle. “What’s her name?” Jace asked his father, his heart beating all funny as the softest most amazing laugh burst from her lips.

“Hmm, Rowan, I think. The doctor’s family keeps mostly to themselves way back in the woods.” His father answered.

“Who’s that with her?” Jace asked looking at the boy maybe a few years older than him.
Rowan
,
that’s a real pretty name, Rowan,
was laughing at something the other boy had said, causing his heart to stutter again. Jace hit his chest with his fist, hoping his heart wasn’t acting up like Ma’s had a few years ago.

“That’s her brother Elias. You’re suddenly very full of questions.” His father laughed, and then turned away as a customer came to ask for… something, Jace was not sure, he was too focused on watching Rowan.

Her black hair was dancing down her back as a heavy breeze played with it.
That’s the prettiest shade of black I’ve ever seen,
Jace thought to himself wonderingly. Rowan stopped at Old Mal’s booth who sold crushed up flowers made into paints. Rowan looked serene as she looked over the selection, holding them up to Elias who was looking distrusting at anyone that passed him. They spent hours there, looking at all the paints, Elias with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, Rowan with her eyes shining happily, her yellow dress swirling around her knees. 

Rowan’s laughter floated across to him, even over the dull roar of the crowds milling about the Market. It was conceivably the sweetest sound he had ever heard in his life. It made him feel like when he went swimming at the creek and he floated along on his back, weightless and flying, except instead of bumping into the creek bed he was going to just float off into the never ending blue sky, maybe forever and maybe he wanted to, if he could hear that sound until the day he died.

“What are you thinking about so intently Jace?” His father inquired as they made the hour-long trek back home later that evening.

“Rowan. I’m going to marry her one day you know.” Jace said, looking up in a scowl as his father laughed.

“You’re still but a child Jace, there are many more pretty girls, and you’ll find one when you’re not nine.” His father said good naturedly, mussing Jace’s blond hair with his large calloused hand.

“Almost ten!” Jace exclaimed, brushing his hair back into its natural state, though it looked almost exactly the same.

“When you’re not
almost
ten then.” His father smiled.

“No.” Jace insisted.
There will not be any others for me.

THREE YEARS AGO- SEPTEMBER

“How are you doing this fine day Sasha?” Jace asked, smiling at the plump old woman.

“Oh, just fine, thank you.” She responded, her voice creaking with age.

“I’m glad to hear it! The usual then?” Jace asked with a smile, already reaching for the banana bread that Sasha bought every time she came to Market, which was only about once a week, now that the weather was turning colder.

“You’re such a sweet young man.” Sasha cooed, grabbing the wrapped bread from Jace and stashing it in the crook of her arm.

“That’s six coins, ma’am.” Jace said, extending his hand to catch the coins from Sasha, clanging together as they fell into his palm. “Enjoy the rest of your day!” He called to her turned back and she raised her hand in a wave, ambling off into the dense crowd.

The Market was unusually full on the abnormally scorching day. The area smelled of perspiration and cooking meat from Mr. Hewitt’s Butchery two booths down. Sweat dripped down Jace’s back, soaking the back of his shirt. His green eyes habitually scanned the dense body of people for her familiar black hair, and spied her with tiny Madison.

Madison’s father had passed away a few years back leaving his wife and daughter nearly destitute. Madison was a dirty child, Jace knew her and her mother didn’t often get to bathe, but she was a sweet girl, not harshened by the bad hand she had been dealt in life.

Madison and her mother had come to Market one day about a year ago and Madison had happened to ask Rowan for an apple, she was just so hungry she had said. Jace smiled recalling the memory, and how Rowan had bought the small child a whole bushel of apples. Madison had cried tears of joy and ran off to fetch her mother, who cried too at Rowans generosity. The little girl had thrown her arms around Rowan, and Rowan had hugged her back fiercely, not caring that her expensive looking dress was being smudged with dirt.

After that, Rowan met with Madison once a week to buy things for her and her mother. Food mostly, but Rowan always threw in something special. A doll to play with, or new clothes. Rowan was the kindest person Jace had ever come across. The first time Jace had ever spoken directly to Rowan was when she had been asking to buy a pastry for Madison.

Jace had been preoccupied watching a Kings Guard, who wandered around every so now and then to make sure no one planned to steal anything. No one ever did, of course, they were a small community and crimes among them were few and far between. Jace had not seen her approach, but the second he heard her voice, before he had even turned his head to look at her, he had known it was her. His heart had leapt wildly about in his chest and he felt it shatter a million times to be so close to her and not be able to reach across the foot that divided them and touch her.

He had handed the pastry to her, his hands shaking and he prayed to all the Gods she wouldn’t notice, though his father did and teased him about it on the way home that evening. When his hand had touched hers, it sent lightning jolts through his arm, but she had recoiled from the contact, her eyes fearful as she looked at him questioningly. Jace shook his head, but she scampered off, back to her brother who waited patiently for her nearby, never taking his eyes from his sister.

“Hi Jace!” Rowan said brightly, drawing him once again out of his thoughts, his heart stammered at the sudden closeness of her, and he blinked at her several times. Madison stood just below her ribs, a new hair ribbon tied into her curly brown locks.

“Hey Rowan.” Jace replied, “And Madison.” He smiled and Rowan returned it, making his insides churn. “Two honey tarts?” He asked and Rowan nodded, her black hair swishing across her back.

“Of course!” Rowan replied and Madison beamed up at her, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Jace grabbed the tarts and drizzled warm honey over the top of them. Rowan loved honey tarts, always stopping for one when she came to Market. About a year ago his father had stopped making them, saying they were not turning a profit, and as he told Rowan this the next day her look of disappointment nearly crushed him, so he had taken to making the pastry’s himself. The first one she had eaten after that she exclaimed it was the best one she had ever tasted and Jace had positively beamed with pride, he had just started tending the booth by himself at that time, just after his 15
th
birthday in March.

“Here we are!” Jace said, handing over the honey tarts. When his hand brushed hers she didn’t recoil this time, and it seemed to Jace, she let her hand linger longer than normal and, did she just smile slightly, or was that in his head? Rowan placed her payment on the counter and turned away, talking to Madison. Jace yearned to run after her and take her in his arms, people would just melt away from them till nothing else existed- but- his ma was always saying he had an over active imagination. “Lost in his head that boy is.” His ma would say to his pa, smiling at her dreamer of a son.