10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set

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  “Stop that,” Tanith said, “or he’ll never settle down tonight and it will be you who sits up with him.”

  “Then we’ll just have to guard the camp together, won’t we Machar?”

  “Yes, but I’ll need Papa’s spear.” Machar looked hopefully at Siran.

  “Soon, my son,” Siran said, “but I might have need of it myself this night.”

  “But I might need it to kill the bad men,” he cried and waved his arm as if throwing a spear.

  “Perhaps you’d better guard your mother.” Kellach handed Machar down to Tanith. “She needs a strong warrior to protect her.” Machar solemnly nodded his agreement and allowed Tanith to take him back to the wagon.

  Four

  For the next three days, the wagons rolled relentlessly on, bumping and bouncing over rocks and ruts. These last days had seemed the longest of the trip and all were eager to catch sight of the settlement. The foreign woman’s fever raged and Tanith was only able to force water and thin broth down her throat. She brewed a tea from the healing herbs purchased in the east and forced the woman to drink that as well. The woman tossed and turned and cried out in that strange tongue, and Tanith was afraid that her life force was leaving her.

  Each time the wagon pitched, the woman cried out in agony and would move restlessly about. Worried that she might further injure her arm, Tanith tied her to the bed with soft rags. She sponged the woman with water to bring the fever down and when tremors gripped her and her teeth would chatter, she piled skins and bed drapes on. Finally, the fever abated and the woman lay quiet. Her color improved somewhat and Tanith believed the worst has passed. The swelling around her eye had gone down and the bruising had faded somewhat. The arm was still swollen but was no longer so black in appearance.

  Late in the day, Tanith finally climbed down out of the wagon. She drew deep breaths of air and stretched her back. It had been a grueling three days caring for the woman, but from all appearances, the woman would survive.

  Siran dropped back and slowed his horse to a walk beside her. “Kellach thinks we will be home by nightfall.”

  “It won’t be too soon for me,” she replied. “I would sleep in my own home for a change.” They had followed the course of the White Jade River for some time and the settlement rested west of the river near the edge of the desert. The yellow people called it the Place of No Return. Many went in but many did not come out, and only a fool made the journey during the hottest months of the summer.

  Kellach rode ahead of the group. Scouts from the village had been spotted in the distance and he knew it was only a matter of time before the first ones reached the caravan. A cloud of dust raced ahead of the others and as it neared, the horse and rider grew more distinct. He recognized the horse, a young black stallion he had gifted a few years ago to a young cousin. The horse was galloping hard, the rider bent low over his neck. At the last moment, the rider leaned back and pulled hard on the reins, causing the horse to rear as it came to a stop. The young man leapt from the horse and ran up to Kellach. He had a merry face and snapping blue eyes below a shock of auburn hair.

  “I slipped out from under the noses of the patrols and beat them here,” he laughed.

  Kellach scowled down at the youth, “Had I known you would treat the animal that way, I would have kept him for myself.” Kellach eyed the youth fondly. He had grown over a head taller in the last year and, at thirteen summers, had changed from a boy to a young man. “How did you get past the patrol without being seen?”

  “I have my ways! It’s easy,” the boy shrugged. “Once I get past them, I whistle for Uasail,” he pointed to the horse, “and we ride away. They haven’t caught me yet.”

  Kellach shook his head, “I must have a talk with the Council and advise them that their patrols are lax, otherwise, you would not be here.”

  “I go where I want to,” Cyrnan bragged, “and with Uasail, I am too fast for them.”

  Kellach jumped down and hugged the young man. Cyrnan was Kellach’s ward, but because of his regular absences, Cyrnan resided with Kellach’s parents. “What news?” he asked the lad.

  “More raids from the nomads to the north, we lost another woman right before winter. Etain passed this winter,” Cyrnan said softly. “She had been ailing and we found her one morning dead. Your mother has been directing your household since that time.”

  Kellach was saddened. Etain had been his nursemaid and he had brought her with him when he went out on his own. In truth, Etain had been more family than servant. He would miss her greatly. When he returned from the western settlements, he would have need of another head servant.

  “The older women are working hard to put together a feast for your return,” Cyrnan commented slyly, “and the young women are rushing around putting on their best finery and painting their faces. Their mamas are turning vigilant.” He grinned and quickly ducked as Kellach lunged for him.

  “Voadicia has commanded your attendance as soon as you arrive,” he said, looking worried. “She only brings trouble that one. Alstrom took her as second wife this winter past and she is gaining power every day. We must tread lightly around her.”

  Kellach pondered this unwelcome news. Alstrom was the Chieftain of their tribe. He was well loved by all and was known as a kind and generous man. Voadicia, on the other hand, craved power and for Alstrom to take Voadicia as a wife, even a second wife, boded ill for all of them. It was also true that before Kellach left on this last journey, she made it clear to Kellach that she wanted Kellach as her consort and meant to have him. “What does the Council say?”

  “They fear her and her priestesses. She uses her powers for naught but evil.”

  This was a bad turn of events. Even before he left, Voadicia had been gaining power and it now seemed she wanted even more. Having the priestesses as her minions aided her quest to gain control over many things that should be left to the decisions of the Council.

  In the last few generations, members of the tribe had taken yellow wives, due in part to the shortage of suitable women. It was also common practice for many of the older men to take yellow women as second wives. Voadicia was the progeny of one of the older lords and a yellow woman of the nearby peaceful tribe. Kellach had known Voadicia since her girlhood and, back then, she had been quiet and biddable, though isolated and ignored because of her tainted parentage. She changed as the years passed and, now, none were as greedy and insatiable for power as was Voadicia. She was hated and feared by many. There were those who believed she was a sorceress, and more than one who held her in opposition had disappeared without a trace.

  The outriders formed up near the caravan and an air of excitement permeated the entire train. The sky was darkening as the farthermost borders of the settlement came into view. Many of the inhabitants had gathered to greet them and there was much laughing and good cheer. A few stray curs raced around barking and flocks of sheep, cattle and horses grazed peacefully nearby. They passed through the periphery of the village. Smaller round mud-and-wattle huts with conical roofs lined the avenue. Children begged and held their hands out for tidbits or searched out fathers and brothers. It was a joyous occasion and easily a reason for a night of feasting. It was good to be home.

  Five

  Inside the wagon, Fiona slowly awoke. The cacophony of sounds invaded her brain and she was at a loss to make sense of them. Her mind was clearer than it had been for some time, yet she was confused by the rattle of the wagon and the strange language everyone seemed to be speaking. She was not able to decipher any of the spoken words. To her knowledge, there were no places in the United States where English wasn’t the major language. She tried to rise up from the pallet but in her weakened state, was only able to roll slightly on her side. The wagon bumped along and finally came to a stop.

  A small boy crawled in the wagon and leaned over her and babbled something.

  “What?” Fiona asked. “Say that again, please.” The little boy babbled something again. He must not be able to talk y
et, Fiona thought, but he certainly looked old enough from her view to be able to speak clearly. Maybe he has special needs. Fiona looked at him, “Could you get me a drink,” and she made a drinking motion. The little one turned and jumped out of the wagon. A moment later, the woman from her fevered dreams climbed in.

  “So you’re awake,” Tanith said. No response, only a blank look.

  Having no idea again what the blonde woman was saying, and beginning to believe that she didn’t speak English either, Fiona smiled and pointed to the waterskin.

  “Oh, you want a drink, of course,” Tanith reached over quickly and uncorked the waterskin. She helped Fiona to sit up and Fiona took a long drink. The water tasted stale and warm, but it was wet and she was grateful.

  Several fierce looking men with facial tattoos and longish hair came into the wagon and lifted Fiona up. They certainly didn’t look like anyone she knew and, truthfully, she was a little frightened of them. Armbands graced their upper arms and the older one’s face was covered by a full bushy beard and mustache. Both had tattoos on their faces, several in fact, mostly lines in varying sizes. They weren’t the best smelling men she had ever encountered either. Maybe deodorant isn’t a big deal here. But then they had been on the road for awhile and perhaps bathing hadn’t been particularly easy. As they lifted her out of the wagon, she glanced around. Darkness had fallen and she wasn’t able to clearly see much of her surroundings.

  The woman with the braided hair gestured for the men to carry her inside one of the more elaborate buildings which, along with several others, formed a semi-circle around a central square. They set her down on a raised bed covered with sheepskins and wool throws which rested in the far corner of the large room. A fire was burning in the open fire pit and the glow from oil lamps placed haphazardly throughout the room seemed to be the only visible means of light. Fiona glanced around the dwelling. The room seemed to encompass the living room, kitchen, and bedroom, all in one area, with drapes hanging from the ceiling to separate the living quarters. There didn’t appear to be any sign of electrical usage anywhere. No sign of a television, radio, or telephone.

  It was good to be home, Tanith reflected, and staying in one place would be a relief. There were so many dangers on the road. They had been lucky in that they had only lost two of their group on the long trip. She opted to travel with Siran. Otherwise, it would have been too long without him. Besides, with her and Machar along, Siran was less apt to get himself in trouble, as he would have her to deal with. She quickly brewed some healing tea and brought a cup to her patient. The woman smiled and accepted the hot drink. Tanith took that moment to do a quick examination. The woman’s color was greatly improved, and the swelling around her eye was almost nonexistent. The bruising was still quite evident but definitely improved. Tanith unwrapped the arm and, though still very tender to the touch, no telltale streaks of red could be seen and it was cooler to the touch. She was satisfied the woman was healing and if the Gods were good, would survive.

  Siran came in carrying Machar. “Don’t worry about preparing food. The women have prepared a feast in the great hall.”

  Tanith shook her head, “You go ahead. Machar is tired and so is the woman. I’ll stay here with them.” She took Machar from his father and settled him on the bed next to the woman. Machar promptly poked his finger in the woman’s sore eye. “Ouch,” the woman squeaked.

  Tanith scolded the child who ducked his head, appearing chastised.

  Although disgruntled by the little imp’s actions, Fiona chuckled. The child grinned at her and scrambled down off the bed. The man walked over and looked at her carefully. Fiona returned his look, squirming under his close perusal.

  “She’ll be a beauty when the bruising finally goes,” he said to Tanith.

  Tanith nodded her head in agreement, “Kellach is in for a big surprise.”

  “What has this to do with Kellach?”

  “Well, something has to be done with her—and he found her.”

  Siran laughed. “True, and he will need another housekeeper when he gets back from his trip to purchase breeding stock.” He added carefully, “Cyrnan mentioned that old Etain died while we were gone.”

  Tanith’s face clouded. She too had been raised by Etain and would sorely miss her. “Perhaps the woman could take Etain’s place. Kellach will need a housekeeper and this one wouldn’t have anyone to interfere or cause any trouble for him.”

  Siran nodded. “She will need someplace to go when she heals, unless you want her here with us.”

  Tanith laughed. “One woman in this household is enough for you and me. Do not breathe a word of this to Kellach. I think we should wait to discuss the matter with him when he returns. Perhaps by then, she will be strong enough to prove her worth to him.”

  Siran nuzzled her neck and cuddled her against him. “Mayhap I should stay home tonight and forego the feast. Our bed beckons and I think you have need of some attention.”

  “Unless I am mistaken, we have a guest in our bed,” Tanith responded regretfully. She pulled his face down and kissed him soundly. Privacy had been in short supply on the journey and she had looked forward to his nearness.

  Fiona watched the couple. It was obvious they were more than just friends. They must be married, she thought, and the child is theirs. Her memory of the last few days was full of great lapses, just small glimpses now and then. She did seem to remember, though, riding in some sort of cart for a long time. Her injuries certainly were taking a toll on her stamina and she was still too weak to make any sense of this. She should have been taken to a hospital, but it appeared that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Although she wanted to learn more, weariness overcame her and she succumbed to sleep.

  Six

  Kellach moved through the crowd of revelers in the great hall. Great rashers of food loaded the long tables, wine and fermented milk flowed freely. Sinuous, scantily-clad dancers writhed to the pounding of drums and flutes and many were captured by the watchers as they slid by. He caught sight of his men scattered throughout the feasting and they shouted and waved. From every corner, his named was hailed and with his promise to return, he continued on.

  Kellach entered the Chieftain’s great house, but other than servants hurrying about, no one appeared to be present. He was here in response to Voadicia’s summons, but only because he wished to, not because she demanded. His position as a Lord afforded him the freedom not permitted to lesser members and only Alstrom and the Council held sway over him.

  The room was vast and candles guttered on every wall. The only furnishing was the Chieftain’s massive chair, which sat on a raised dais at the far end. Living quarters were attached through an archway to the left and it was through this opening that Voadicia entered. She appeared unsurprised by his arrival and strolled seductively across the open floor. Kellach was struck, as he always was, by her dark beauty, so at odds with the tribal women.

  Black hair hung straight to her knees, held in place by a gold headband inlayed with precious stones. Her dark eyes slanted upwards at the outer corners, in the manner of her mother’s people. Her skin was the color of old ivory and he knew from experience that it was soft and supple. A solid gold torque wrapped her neck, and gold arm bands and bracelets adorned her arms. A tunic of black silk, held at her shoulders by two large gold pins, draped to mid-calf, and ankle jewelry tinkled as she walked. From the manner in which the silk molded to her skin, it was obvious that she wore nothing underneath. Her rouged lips were full and, at present, were stretched in a predatory smile. As she neared, she reached out and ran her hands up his chest to his shoulders, pressing against him. He felt her heat through the layers of his clothing.

  “I was expecting you sooner, my love,” she whispered. “I have sorely missed you.” The scented oil she wore wafted around him and, unwillingly, he felt his body respond. He had been too long without a woman. An image of a snake twining around his body flashed through his mind. Resisting an urge to push her roughly away, he rea
ched up, lifted her arms from around his neck and stepped back. “As you commanded, I am here.”

  “You would not have come had I not commanded?” she questioned sharply. “I thought we were so much more than that.”

  “What do you want, Voadicia? I would finish our business and be gone.”

  Again, she pressed up against him and again, he stepped back. Her eyes flared. “You’ve changed since you’ve been away. I would not have thought so.”

  “You have become wife to Alstrom, or had you forgotten that.”

  “Only second wife,” she sneered. “But soon I will be first wife.”

  “How do you plan to do that? Briga holds that title.”

  “Briga is old. She wants nothing more than to sit with her servants and sew. She would not care if I became first wife.”

  “Does she know that you plan to get rid of her?”

  Voadicia stepped away. “She has made no mention to me or anyone that she finds her position precarious. I do not plan to get rid of her,” she said carefully. “I would only take the burden from her shoulders and leave her to her few pleasures. Besides, Alstrom spends most of his time with me.”

  Kellach’s mind whirled. Voadicia’s first, last and only interest was centered around what would benefit her. If Voadicia became first wife, she would reap the powers currently conferred upon Briga. Briga had been wife to Alstrom for many years and, sadly, no children had blessed their union. She was older, but her experiences had forged her into an open-minded and fair judge. Voadicia would not be such. Only those who kowtowed to Voadicia would benefit from her control. That she would seek to hold sway over Briga was outrageous.

  “Does Alstrom hope his seed will find fertile soil in you?”

  “I am not Alstrom’s brood mare,” she sneered.

  “Unless you bear him children, you could not become first wife,” he goaded her, “or have you forgotten that?”

 

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