10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set
Page 78
“Twisted his foot is all.” He waved away Orie’s concern. “I’m sorry I did not wait for you, but I couldn’t take such an important lad all the way to the Gordon Keep. Go home now. Have the stable master take my sword to my chambers, and I’ll see you when I return.” He dared not step closer to the boy and the sword, but bent instead to gather the heather another man had cut, holding his breath and praying for obedience. Thankfully, the lad was quick follow orders, and Quinn continued his play acting until the sound of Orie’s retreat faded to nothing.
Long Legs’ laughter sent a chill up his spine.
“A grand idea, that. You’ll be carrying the flowers, but they’ll be for your own grave, not your sister’s.”
Quinn was content with the irony that Morna was neither dead, nor his sister, but was living happily ever after in the twenty-first century.
And if Isobelle, Morna’s sister, danced, it wasn’t with the devil as she, too, was alive and well.
And if Quinn was about to die, history would play out as it should, and no one would know the Gordons would be killing the wrong man.
Acknowledgements
Thank you, Cori Deyoe of Three Seas Lit, for falling for ROMEO. And thanks to the Utah RWA nuts who never leave me alone on the roller coaster. Here we go again! Arms and legs inside at all times...
Yawp!
About the Author
L. L. Muir lives with Superman in the shadows of the Rocky Mountains. They are raising numerous super-heroes for society, but none will wear tights. Currently, Lesli writes Scottish historicals and paranormal fiction for both adult and young adult readers. She is represented by Three Seas Literary Agency.
The next two books in this series are Not Without Juliet and Collecting Isobelle, both available now.
Swordsong
Time Guardians: Book 2
(3rd edition, revised)
by
Skhye Moncrief
KINDLE EDITION
He's arrived to help her create the perfect bride.
He's stuck in present-day Scotland with a bent time-travel key only she can repair. Duty requires he return to his time. His ticket home relies on a lonely woman haunted by more than apparitions. Her track record with men keeps her at a distance. And ghostly events keep pushing them closer together. Earning her trust will require the kind of patience only a valiant Time Guardian learns during his twenty years of apprenticeship. If time-travel duty, romance, and a bit of magic don't help them realize their destiny resonates in mysterious fairy SWORDSONG, all known history could change.
Reviews:
"His forbearance, pure love, and finally his and Katie's "hand fasting" create an enchanting love story with a touch of magic... destiny sends them to a time and a life far removed from the lives they have known... a tale of future, present, and past with each of the time periods nurturing Katie and Murdo until the time is right for their union--their destiny. Skhye Moncrief creates a unique culture from which Murdo comes. She weaves it in with the present culture, making a compelling, sparkling love story with a unique twist near the end." ~Camilla, Long and Short Reviews
"Murdo requires the special skills of sword smith Katie Innis to complete his duties as a time guardian. But Katie's past makes her distant around the man's charms. Who doesn't love a noble Scotsman that can quote Robert Burns? Murdo's wooing of Katie requires a bit of magic only a true soul-mate can deliver." ~Victoria, posted at Amazon
"SWORDSONG will have you hooked from the beginning until the "happily ever after." And if you were trying to creep us out with Cousin John, you definitely succeeded, Ms. Moncrief. There was a glossary at the front of the book. It easy to pick up book three without reading the others." ~Angelique, Happily Ever After Reviews
Swordsong
Copyright © 2011 by Skhye Moncrief
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.
***
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.
***
Cover Art by Tamra Westberry
Publishing History
First Faery Rose Edition, 2010
Print ISBN 1-60154-739-0
2nd Ed. released by author, 2011
3rd Ed. released by author, 2013
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To She-Who-Steadfastly-Looks, who never stops searching for the perfect man,
I award thee Murdo, the most valiant Time Guardian.
Glossary
Anam Cara -- soul mates; two souls bound together for eternity by the faeries to protect history by preventing paradoxical children from being born along the timeline.
Astrofolklore -- the study of Earth mythology combined with the Gaelic planets' newer mythology; one of many topics time guardians learn to connect with history.
Druid -- a "Sister;" member of the female time-guardian Order who has apprenticed 20 years, learning astrofolklore to be utilized in adapting into any time period. Her goal is to study tales.
Fey -- the Gaelic term encompassing all forms of supernatural energy classified as spirit. It has been long believed that fairies have never lived. But Time Guardians are just beginning to understand the beings through Post-Modern Alchemical studies.
The Gaels -- a term describing their culture used by Celtic descendants in the future.
Gaelic Judge -- a dragon; a genetically modified human with ultra-human senses. They were given refuge by the Gaels and live on the Gaelic planets where they reside over disputes. Okay, until...
Gods -- any supernatural force classified as a deity by any culture.
Holy Light of Union -- a mystic light that burns away everything when two soul mates sexually unite. While the Light burns, the lovers are whisked by the Gods to another plane of existence where the Gods may observe and connect with the soul mates' unification. The Light also helps Time Guardians discern soul-mate incarnates along the timeline.
Iron -- the metal banned from Gaelic planets because it disrupts electromagnetic radiation-- what Post-Modern alchemy assumes fairies are.
Nidium -- fairy-forged metal fashioned into time-travel keys and awarded to Ring Masters because iron is banned from the Gaelic planets. This metal can penetrate stone; hence, the sword in the stone....
Patron Fey of the Druids -- Morganna. Brothers don't trust her. She's in cahoots with the lasses.
Patron Fey of the Ring Masters -- Conn. He's soft on the Sisters but doesn't cut the Brothers any slack.
Post-Modern Alchemy -- science combined with magic practiced by male Time Guardians to understand fairy-induced time travel.
Ring -- x-hmm, use your imagination. Now, don't go Freudian!
Ring Master -- a "Brother;" a member of the male time-guardian Order who spends approximately 20 years apprenticing to become a stone-circle pilot, a bodyguard for his wife, and a Post-Modern alchemist. He is first entered an apprentice, then becomes a Ring Master upon earning his time-travel sword from the fairies during a training jaunt through time.
Ring Master Keep -- the site of the sacred training ground on the Gaelic planet Scotia Major where Ring Masters and Druids spend 20 years of their lives progressing to the level of Learned to earn the right to time travel.
Runic Council of the Orders -- 29 Brothers and Sisters on planet Scotia Major who wear sacred runes used to predict the future and plan missions along the timeline. They have retired from time travel to serve a greater purpose as council members. The women are referred to as High Druids. The Brothers are referred to as Grand Masters. The Grand Master with the most respect is referred to as the High Grand Master. The High Priestess is
the High Druid with the most respect.
Time Guardian -- a Brother or Sister who pledges his/her life to The Cause of safeguarding the timeline
Soul Mate -- a soul who is bounded by fairy magic to another; their attraction defies time and space to draw the two together no matter which incarnation they exist in thereafter.
War Furies -- the triple goddess who likes to shake things up as she's known to do...
Chapter 1
England, 79. B.C.
Time hadn't beaten Ring Master Murdo McEwen, yet.
Whipping wind yanked at his kilt.
If it isn't time, the sun, or angry Romans, something else is on my back, he thought. Time to beat Time at its own game. I squeezed the unconscious Time-Guardian cadet's thigh draping my shoulder and swung my leg through the tall grass toward the toothy time-travel portcullis of Stonehenge.
The approaching thunderstorm rumbled on the flat horizon.
A hundred yards remain between me and a life of historical studies while guarding a Druidess. Throw in enslavement in 79 B.C. with angry Romans searching for the lost cadet, and the training mission was about to rank a complete disaster.
Lachy Fitzpatrick's dead weight slipped along my shoulder.
The bloody lad equated to at least one-hundred pounds of lead. I hoisted Lachy's heavy body upward, grabbed the back of his bare knees, clutched them tighter against my shirt, and stretched my stride.
Rather, his body felt like a trying lump of elements only a fellow Post-Modern alchemist could appreciate after the foolish dolt had crept off to observe the activities of a Roman fortress. Being kicked in the head hadn't snuffed the cadet's life though. Just his cognizance.
The monstrous circular post-and-lintel framework of The Order's time-travel machine jutted up beneath the churning purple squall line.
Not good for timing a jaunt through time and space. Lightning's electricity and the residual ozone made time travel uncontrollable. Not good when being chased. I glanced over Lachy's tartaned arse.
The billowing bank of antagonistic clouds continued rolling toward the astral complex.
And us. Time treading upon a Ring Master's heels. I turned back to Stonehenge and forced my aching legs further through the whipping grass.
A smart man would have taken up cattle breeding on planet Cymbry. I choked down a laugh.
Who said I was smart? But it wasn't long before I shifted the heavy cadet to the ground at the base of a short inner stone pillar where the senior Time Guardian, Lars Uí Neill, wore a relieved mask. Somewhat. We beat the storm. Beat Time as it snarled and unfurled. And Lachy is going home with the rest of us. If we hurry and activate the stone circle. I stepped back, and took my place in the line among the eighteen apprentices.
Thunder boomed.
Too close. The lad's stupidity may cost us our freedom. A gladiator's life was anything but sweet. Maybe the young fool deserved a bigger taste of what bad choices gave a man in his time-travel duty. Not today, lad. My tired legs are more than enough proof that I won't leave him behind. And any cadet deserved more than enslavement for signing his life away to The Cause.
"Present swords," Lars barked.
Older, more progressed cadets who had already earned their stone-circle keys unsheathed their ringing golden claymores.
If the team leader didn't summon the sun God, Lugh, fast, my efforts to save the cadet would have been wasted. I gripped the hilt of my broadsword and slid my gaze across the sharp carved edge of the portal, to the brown-and- orange Uí Neill plaid pinned at Lars' shoulder, and thrust my Ring Master sword skyward.
Lightning screeched through the atmosphere.
Wind smacked at the apprentices' colorful kilts against their lanky legs.
Cadets flinched and turned, gaping at a long line of jagged light.
The brilliant lightning bolt jerked in dance, clinging for life on a distant rise.
Tickling gooseflesh erupted along my arms.
The storm's upon us. Almost blocking the precious sunlight that would make time-travel impossible. Forget bloody meditating, Uí Neill. To miss the end of this autumnal quarter day, the best traveling day for another twenty-three days, would prove foolish. If not, hiding from the Romans with quasi-trained apprentices will be difficult.
"Make ready," Uí Neill shouted
Get on with it. I clenched squeezed my sword's hard hilt.
The lads hoisted their swords over their shoulders, preparing to thrust the blades into the inner ring of short blue stones.
"Insert keys."
At last, the bloody command. I rammed my long blade into the nearest low pillar in sync with the cadets.
The fairy-forged nidium blade slid into stone like a dirk through butter.
Such a smooth action symbolized the God's gift to those submissive few who gave their lives in exchange for safeguarding history. Amazing. Humbling. I scanned the sacred scene of craggy stones and tartan whipping around male bodies.
Past. A moment in history. But a wink. The upside of a heartbeat. Soon to change because the swords jutted from the stones like gearshifts, all perpendicular to the long-axis of each monolith. Lars had gauged the mechanism, opted for a kick-start with sunlight activation through nidium penetration. The nidium keys would route energy from sunlight into the stones. Classic Gaelic Post-Modern alchemy. Hopefully, to create the proper resonance. A nonstop journey to 3038 A.D. minus the human sacrifice is the easiest way to fly home. And the sun hovers at its zenith, the best location for activating the stones.
Wicked purple fingers of gray clouds stretched toward the warrior sun god of light.
Time simply cursing us. Or Lars. Hopefully, Lugh will pity us, catapult us through time. The God who had yet to fail us.
Lars threw his head back, arms spread wide. "I call upon Lugh. Taskmaster, assist us in this troubled state. Pity us for we have done as instructed and request only to return to our humble beds, Father."
To say the least. Without a human sacrifice, we can only pray for the Gods' help. Who knows which fairy will opt to help us for whatever price?
Wind ceased to blow.
The world grew silent.
Even the cool breeze faded away.
By Conn and all that is holy, the time-travel mechanism is activated.
Sound waves crackled and clicked in my ears. Sunlight flickered into a black void. And the welcome peaceful nothingness in transit through fairy transmutation took over. Tumbling, yet perfectly still, my body hung aloft in the darkness somewhere between reality and deep space.
Just see us all home to Ring Master Keep on planet Scotia Major.
Something hard struck my side.
Yet, softness cushioned my palms.
I wiggled my fingers and shook my head.
My ears popped.
Crisp air settled in around my body.
Is that sweet-smelling heather? Are we still on Earth? Or planet Scotia Major? I opened my eyes and gazed into a cloudy blue sky.
Day is good. Darkness always implies fairy subterfuge. How are the lads? I pushed up from the spongy vegetation to see if any of the cadets were ill from the time-and-space jaunt.
Three winged golden females stretched on their bellies, observing me with wily smiles.
The War Furies.
Not what a Time Guardian wants to find. The Goddesses aided Druidesses. I'm a leg shy of two X-chromosomes to interest these fey. "What a surprise." It never hurt a man to sound friendly.
The Goddesses giggled. Their luminous golden locks writhed into a frenzy.
So much for setting a Brother at ease. Aside from the fey, nothing but stones and heather met the cloudless sky. The lads were shanghaied in time. Damn the Furies. But I dare not lose my temper. Or they won't assist me. "Where are my charges?" I managed to carefully.
"Safeguarded," Morganna lilted. " 'Tis the year 2004."
Truth from her? She adores toying with Ring Masters. "Is that all I'm to know?"
"You'll know soon enough." Morganna bl
inked her iridescent green eyes at me. "Seek the Brothers of this time. Welcome to Scotland, Brother Murdo McEwen."
Brothers of this time? Since when do archaic Freemasons have anything to do with time travel? So much had changed and evolved into a completely different form of Brotherhood in the future that the War Furies have to be jesting. Centurian Freemasons can't help me with calculating a time-travel jaunt, even if they tried. These masons have yet to leave the Mother World and identify the thirteen constellations encircling Scotia Major. Those constellations that allowed for matching time on the other end of the portal with the constellations on this end. Without the star chart of Scotia Major's night sky, the Centurians can't time travel with stone circles.
The fairy trio shot skyward, screeching with laughter, twirled into a golden mass of light, shrank into three brilliant balls, and zipped westward through the jagged standing stones.
Only Conn, the Patron Fey of Ring Masters, delivered Ring Masters the orders a Brother could trust.
The wee fairy lights jolted to a halt near a massive tree trunk.
Their illumination flickering in broken bands. Their shrill cries faded into nothingness. Their electromagnetic radiation obviously disrupted, by some iron source, beyond their ability to maintain a presence in this plane of existence. Good riddance. Yet, what of the Gods' jest in my being left alone on earth? Loitering in 2004 isn't a grand holiday to Ring Masters. Getting back to the thirty-first century and finding my charges is crucial. My responsibility. Just where had the Gods found this detour necessary? The wisp of straw reason was now my Time-Guardian chore to pluck from the haystack of reality. I scanned the small ring.
Twenty stones. No visible encircling earthen dike. All the craggy menhirs stood upright, poised for time-transportation duty with the wormhole hidden within it. A bloody arthritic hand gripping me in this time. A reflection of the double-edged sword Time Guardians lived by.