Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) (4 page)

John turned his attention back to the arena and watched Dallan’s long bl
ack hair, now unbound by the fighting, fl
y every which way as he dodged and blocked Kwaku’s staff
, looking as if at last the fi
ght was his. Yet
sure enough in the blink of an eye he was in the dirt, hair plastered ac
ross his rugged face, hiding his
rage-fi
lled eyes.

John sighed again and shook his head.
“Dallan’s never even been allowed to leave Genis Lee.
Not even to go to the city.”

Lany glanced over his shoulder to the topm
ost part of the trees around them.  The
Muira
ran city of Mishna lay ten miles beyond the village.

“He doesn’t even know where he is, Lany. For all Dallan knows, he’s somewhere in ancient England. How do the Elders expect me to explain to him about the Muiraran Maiden?”

   
“Well, that’s another reason I’m here.” Lany clasped his hands in front of him and rocked toe to heel a few times.

   
John frowned. “Oh no, what now?”

   
“The Elders have voted with Kwaku. You
are not to tell the Scot any
thing until after he has secured the Maiden.”

“What! How do they expect Dallan to hold together, for the Creator’s sake?” John began to pace. “Great Bells, they can’t possibly expect him to accept responsibility for a Muiraran when he doesn’t even know what one is!”

Lany calmly shrugged. “Tell the Scot she can get him home.”

John stopped his pacing and spun to face his assistant. “I can’t. I already played that card.”

“And?”

“He called my bluff
.”

Lany’s lips pressed together fi
rmly for a moment
.
“What
did
you tell him?”

“The only thing I could think of that wouldn’t reveal everything.”

Lany raised a brow and leaned forward slightly. “Which was…?”

“I told him the Muiraran was a weapon.”

Lany Mosgofi
an’s mouth dropped open in surprise, but only
for a moment.  He
then
laughed. Loudly.

“I don’t think it’s very amusing!”

Lany tried to calm himself down and failed miserably. “Eaton… it’s positively perfect! Ingenious!”

“Perfect? Ingenious? You didn’t see the look on his face! Dallan thinks the Muiraran is a weapon, f
or the Creator’s sake!”

Lany finally stifl
ed his chuckling.
“Well, isn’t she, in a way?”

John hadn’t thought about that. Muirarans had abilities even h
e had trouble believing when fi
rst introduced to them. Some could heal, others plant ideas
and false memories
in people’s minds or weaken a man’s will, even communicate with certain species of animals, to name a few.
They also possessed the most uncanny camouflage instinct.  When around humans, they appeared as one. An involuntary ability if John remembered correctly. 
And of course, the big one, the one only a rare handful possessed—the ability to split time.
Hands down the most frightening aspect of the Muiraran race.  How they were able to do it
no one knew, and it was a well-
known fact the Muirarans wouldn’
t be letting the
race
of Men
know anything any time soon
.  The foremost question of the Elders was if
the Muirarans
had the power to do
that
, then what else did they have the power to do?  And that wasn’t the only aspect of the Muirarans Man had to worry about.  W
hen joined and mated with a compatible human, a Muiraran’s abilities grew
even
stronger.
Now that John thought about it, it was probably the main
re
ason they chose to stay hidden all this time. 
The havoc that could ensue if John’s race were to breed with that
of the Muirarans unchecked
would be devastating.
He shuddered at the thought and resumed his pacing.

Lany clasped his hands back together. “Eaton, calm down. Believe it or not, I think Kwaku’s right.”

John shot him a bewildered look.

“Think about it. If Dallan takes responsibility for the
Muiraran
Maiden, and we both know what that means, how can he back out? You know as well as I he probably won’t be able to once he’s bonded with her.”

“
If
he becomes bonded, you mean.”

“Ancient Scots tend to be a little superstitious, Eaton. Kwaku knows that. He’s not going to throw the Maiden and Scot together and hope they live happily ever after. We’ll never get our new Time Master that way. He also knows Dallan
won’t accept her if he fi
nds out too soon she’s, well, not
exactly
human. I don’t know what you’re so worried about.
I’m
the one Kwaku stuck with telling the Maiden what’s expected of her in case Dallan can’t do it. Let’s face it, it’s not going to be easy convincing this woman she’s not a human being, in the conventional sense at least, which hopefully will
have happened before Dallan fi
gures it out. Not complaining, mind you. Just saying things aren’t as bad as they seem.”

Lany took a deep breath and grinned. “Besides,
I hear
Kwaku believes Dallan has already seen her.”

John’s pacing ground to a halt. “Who told you that?”

“Zara.
" Lany stated calmly
.

John’s eyes widened. He looked about apprehensively before turning his attention back to his assistant. “Zara is here? In Genis Lee?”

“Of course she is.
We just rode in from Mishna
. Kwaku left a message for her to come directly here as soon as possible. He won’t be going home to the city today. And, well… you know they can’t stay separated for long.”

John
absently
stared at his booted feet, his mind a
confused jumble of thought. “Of course,” he mumbled. “How could I have forgotten?”

“And Kwaku will probably let Dallan go once he senses his wife is near. She’ll need to feed. She was getting pretty… hungry when we left Mishna.”

John’s eyes bulged. His mouth, already half open, dropped the re
st of the way like a heavy draw
bridge. He looked Lany over quickly, checking for any signs of damage.

Muirarans had one unsettling attribute John still wasn’t quite used to: a second heart. A near separate entity really that needed to be fed, and often.
Quite often.
What the heart fed on depended on the individual Muiraran. Some fed off visual beauty, others verbal stimulation or poetry, simple companionship, pleasure derived from various physical sources or activities. A Muiraran’s mate was usually the only one privy to those special needs and often the only provider. On occasion, however, if their life-mate was unable to care for their immediate needs, a Muiraran had to feed on whatever source was available. John, b
eing in a politically high offi
ce and
thus k
nowledgeable about Muiraran aff
airs, knew well what this particular Muiraran needed in order to stay alive. He swallowed hard and looked Lany over again.

Zara Awahnee’s heart fed on intense, sexual, passion.

Lany calmly held up one hand. “Not to worry, I kept my distance. Besides, she was hungry, Eaton. Not
desperate.”

John closed his eyes a moment and took a calming breath. “I’m so glad I’m married to one of my own species.”

Lany nodded once in agreement. “That makes two of us.”

They continued to watch the Scot and the Azurti have it out in the arena, John wincing and Lany displaying his usual imperturbability. Occasionally a villager would risk leav
ing the concealment of the wood
bins and make a run for the door behind the weapons racks. Kwaku, alw
ays eager to test Dallan’s refl
exes, dove for the hapless victim foolish enough to try for the door. He purposely attacked the villagers to force the Scot to protect and defend them.

“Tell me this doesn’t happen on a daily ba
sis.” Lany stated concerned as he
w
at
ched a small blond-haired boy,
mercilessly dared by his friends to leave the safety of the bins.

John
let go a nervous
c
huckle
. “I’m told the village boys have actually begun using this as a rite of passage of s
orts. Apparently, during the fi
rst few years of Dallan’s training, the boys treated it like a game, keeping score by whomever possessed the most, ah, well, wins or losses.”

“You mean who had the most or least bruises.”

“That would be a more appropriate description.”

“So the idea is to get targeted by Kwaku early on while Dallan still has pl
enty of strength to defend them?
”

John nodded
as he sighed
. “Yes, that’s the general idea, because if Dallan doesn’t have enough energy left…”

Kwaku’s booming laugh interrupted John and Lany as he cornered the blond-haired boy
between the racks and bins. Th
e boy’s companions
squealed with delight and slammed the bins shut, leaving him nowhere to run. All he could do was wait and pray for Dallan to come to his rescue in time.

“So! It is you!” Kwaku bellowed to the cringing youth. “Where is your
fa
-dar, Boyeee?”

The small boy crouched on his haunches and watched Dallan painfully pick himself up from the hard ground. Lany leaned ove
r to John, his voice a whisper.
“Uh, I don’t like the look in the Scot’s eyes, Eaton. Am I missing something here?”

“The boy is Padric Wren, his parents run the cookhouse here. I’ve spoken with his father. Padric is one of the few villagers Dallan will associate with.
A good thing as I'm hoping the boy will help Dallan open up a bit. 
From what I observed yesterday t
he Scot’s very protective of him.”

Lany watched as Padric’s eyes began to dart furtively about for an escape route. “Just how protective?”

John smiled. “
Let’s w
atch
and find out
.”

“Answer me, Boyeee!” Kwaku bellowed loudly.

 
Padric fell to the dusty ground as if pushed by the sheer volume of Kwaku’s voice.

 
“Where is your
fa
-dar? Speak up little bro-dar, or…” Kwaku bent toward Padric’s trembling form and t
hrust him a wicked grin, “...fight.” Th
e
menace in the Time Master’s voice was obvious, his meaning clear.

“I don’t know where my father is,” Padric managed, his young voice surprisingly low and rasping.

 
“Den you cho
ose to fi
ght?” Kwaku challenged, his face inches from Padric’s.

 
“I… I…” Padric swallowed and quickly glanced to Dallan who stood breathing hard. His face and hair were covered with dust, his right shoulder badly bruised and bleeding. His body, Sark and kilt covered with sweat and even more dust.
John watched intently as Dallan smiled at Padric with his eyes. Hmm…

Padric looked back to Kwaku, blew his blonde hair out of his face and
pressed his lips fi
rmly together, his lower jaw jutting out slightly.
“I’m not afraid of you!”

Kwaku raised a wide brow at the boy
and snorted. “You choose to fi
ght den, eh little bro-dar?”

Padric jumped to his feet and assumed a warrior’s
crouch,
the same John had seen Dallan perform the past few days. Of course, Dallan did not usuall
y begin hopping about like a fl
ea as Padric was now doing. “I’m not afraid of you, you big bully! Go ahead! Give it your best shot!”

“
Ohhh
,” Lany began with a smile. “This is
gonna
hurt somebody.”

 
John nodded, his eyes
intent on the scene unfolding before them.  “I believe
you’re right.”

Padric quickly glanced at Dallan who silently mouthed a single word to him.
Now.
        

Padric
off
ered a barely perceptible nod and continued to hop about in front of the Time Master who followed the boy’s movements with amusement.

“Den a fi
ght is what you shall have my little bro-dar!” Kwaku took a step back and raised the quarterstaff over his head.