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

by Geralyn Beauchamp

  Dallan’s gaze narrowed even further.

  Now Angus chuckled. “He’s got a point there, lad. No denying it.”

  Dallan sighed, knowing he was beaten. “Why are women always late?” Now all the men began to laugh.

  Dallan sat up again. “I see no humor in it. I’m a tired man and the lass fares no better. We need to get on wi’ it.”

  “Agreed, Dallan.”

  All heads turned to find Zara standing among the flowers. “Your bride is ready, Weapons Master.” Dallan swallowed once, hard, as Zara made a motion with her hand and Shona stepped out from behind the holly bush.

  A husky moan briefly caught everyone’s attention. It had come from Dallan. He stood, still wearing all but his formal kilt, having replaced it with his old one. His eyes took in the sight of Shona as his mouth curved into a pleased smile.

  Shona had found the Scot’s worn, tired plaid and draped it over one shoulder and around her waist in Highland fashion. Her hair was loose and flowed down her back and over her shoulders, held in place by a circlet of gold similar to Zara’s. The emerald encrusted symbol of the Time Master's matched the color of the Maiden’s eyes perfectly.

  Dallan swallowed again and took an anxious step forward. Kwaku shot an arm out and caught him by his coat. “No, no, Boyeee! Do not touch her!”

  He spun on the Time Master and slapped at the heathen’s hand. “Ye’ll no keep me from my bride!” He started for Shona again.

  Kwaku stuck one foot out and tripped him, dropping Dallan to the hard surface of the roof. “Want to make a bet, Boyeee?”

  “Kwaku,” Lany chastised. “Living stars let him go to her.”

  Kwaku smiled and shook his head. “De Sutyne has already begun. He cannot touch her until de appointed time.”

  Dallan sprang to his feet, hands balled into fists. “Why ye bloody…”

  “Did you not hear me, Boyeee? Your wedding began de moment you set your eyes on her.”

  Dallan stopped and stared at Kwaku, who now stood with his arms across his chest. “What?”

  “Look to her, Boyeee. Do you like what you see? Do you dink you can claim her for your own?” Kwaku stepped over to the Weapons Master and whispered in his ear. “Can you hold her for a lifetime, Boyeee? Can you take care of her? You marry not just a woman, but a civilization. A people. By caring for her, you care for de rest. Can you do dis? If not, go. Go where you will. Now is your chance. I will even take you back to your home, Boyeee. Back to your beloved Scotland.”

  “Why ye bloody heathen, ye well ken I want her. Ye also well ken I canna live wi’out her, nor she wi’out me. Dinna mock me so.”

  “I do not mock, Boyeee. She can still be joined wid anoder. Her heart will not be as strong, but it can be done. And you would be free to return home. What do you say to dat?”

  Dallan slowly turned to Kwaku, eyes narrowed to slits, jaw dancing. “She’s to be mine. I dinna care about anything else now. I’ll ha’ her as my wife and no other. And if ye think to distract me with yer offer, yer wrong. Now get on wi’ it!”

  Kwaku began to smile. “You claim dis woman for yourself den? You claim rights to her?”

  “What d’ye mean rights? She’s already mine!”

  Kwaku burst into laughter.

  Lany leaned over to John. “Now would be a good time to fill me in on what’s going on.”

  John smiled slightly. “I don’t think you want to know.”

  Lany’s eyes widened. “That bad?”

  “No, but…”

  Kwaku got his laughter under control and strode toward the Maiden who, with Zara, had quietly watched the two warriors confront each other. “You are ready, little one?”

  Shona swallowed, not used to Kwaku’s booming voice being directed at her, and nodded.

  Kwaku’s voice dropped in pitch and became silky-smooth. “He claims you belong to him. Is dis true?”

  Shona shot a quick glance to Dallan, who remained where he was, his eyes drilling holes into the back of Kwaku’s head. “Yes.”

  Kwaku placed his hands on his hips and slowly shook his head.

  Shona’s eyes widened. “No?”

  “How can he claim you, Maiden? You have not given yourself to him. He has no right. You are still free to choose anoder.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes, little one. Now is your chance. Do you wish to remain here in dis world wid your family and all dat is familiar? Or do you willingly choose de Boyeee and a world you have yet to see?”

  Shona looked at Kwaku, then Dallan, then Kwaku again. “I will go with him. He cannot survive without me.”

  Kwaku leaned down into her face. “You will protect him den? You will guard, comfort, care for him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you willingly give yourself to him, little one? Are you willing to submit yourself fully to dis man, even so far as to call him Master?”

  Shona’s mouth closed in indecision, confused at his words. Suddenly, her eyes locked with Dallan’s, and her answer was instantaneous. “Yes.”

  Kwaku grinned ear to ear. “Den go to him, my little treasure. Kneel before him and offer yourself. Tell him you give yourself freely and willingly.” He leaned down to her ear. “And offer him back his heart.”

  Shona shuddered at his words and began to slowly walk toward Dallan.

  Lany again leaned over to John. “That wasn’t so bad.”

  John began to glance at their surroundings. “They haven’t gotten to the good part yet. Find something to hold onto.”

  Lany looked quickly to Angus who was already mouthing the words, “Hold onto?”

  John sat on a bench and wrapped his legs around one of its legs, hands gripping the seat, his body tensed and braced. Lany and Angus copied him without question.

  Shona at last reached the Weapons Master, who towered over her as he stood to his full height. A sudden light breeze lifted his hair from his face and shoulders as her own hair wrapped itself around the both of them. She looked up into his eyes. “I… I willingly give myself to y… you and… and…”

  She never got to finish and instead doubled over in pain.

  Dallan instantly reached for her.

  “Do not touch her!” Kwaku and Zara screamed in unison.

  He froze, one hand extended to the Maiden now on her knees before him.

  “Her heart is taking over, Dallan.” Zara told him urgently. “Let this run its course. You will know when you can touch her.”

  Dallan slowly stood, his eyes never leaving the Maiden.

  Shona righted herself, and looked up to him, her voice a painful rasp. “I give myself to you.”

  She suddenly became calm and leaned back on her heels. Her eyes quickly, without warning, turned brilliant green, her features instantly fluxed to Muiraran, her voice now a silken whisper. “I submit myself before you, Dallan MacDonald of Glencoe…” Song began to flow from her in a steady wave, the sound soft, compelling, romantic.

  And in full view.

  John, Lany and Angus sat with mouths agape as a soft white light began to flow and pulse about the Maiden. It rose and circled Dallan, who stood stunned at the phenomenon, his eyes wide with fear and awe.

  The light was the Maiden’s song come to life. It formed itself into images before Dallan, images of his grandfather, mother, step-father and friends. It formed his own image along side the Maiden’s and entwined the two into one, then flashed more brightly and formed into Alasdair.

  Dallan gasped at the sight, but didn’t move as the light continued forming into images of all he knew, all those he held dear in his heart. The Maiden’s voice changed in pitch, her song becoming more emotional as words formed and entered the light. She now sang in Gaelic, and the light formed the images of which she sang.

  The Maiden began to sing of Scotland. Hills and valleys flashed around the couple, people and villages, the courts of the cities. The song covered periods from Dallan’s people to her own as it showed all that was in his heart for his beloved homel
and.

  Dallan stood, his eyes locked on the images before him, body relaxed, his heart completely open. She continued to sing, her voice now absent of her earlier words. She closed her eyes and raised her hands, holding them together as if something were there, then looked up to Dallan and lifted her hands to him, bringing herself up off her heels as she did.

  Dallan stood transfixed as his own hands moved toward the Maiden’s. Her closed hands were now inches from his open ones as their eyes locked on each other.

  Dallan fell to his knees, threw back his head and let out a gut-wrenching howl. When at last he turned his eyes back to the Maiden, they were as brilliant green as her own, the light of her song covering them fully.

  The Maiden opened her hands.

  A rush of wind shot into the sky, followed by a blinding light. It soared into the night, lighting up the entire roof and illuminating the walls of the neighboring structures before streaking toward Dallan. The light traced the outline of first the Weapons Master’s body, then the Maiden’s, swirling and growing brighter, blinding everyone but the couple it encompassed.

  Dallan looked into Shona’s eyes, his body completely relaxed, hands still held open before her as he covered her hands with his own. “Yer mine now, lass. Ye belong to me. I take what ye offer.”

  The light suddenly gathered into the area just above the couple’s hands, its brilliance still bearable only to them.

  Dallan leaned forward, his face drawing slowly closer to the Maiden’s. She automatically tilted up her own, eyes brightening. He kissed her passionately, and the light in their hands exploded, swallowing the couple completely for several seconds. Then, growing one last time in intensity, the light gathered into a tight swirling cloud above their hands and formed itself into an image of Dallan.

  The company watched in awe as he faced himself a brief moment, the light forming a mirror image of the Weapons Master, before it began to enter him through his chest and seep its way back to where it belonged.

  The entire building shook with the impact. Dallan gripped Shona’s hands and loudly groaned as her inner heart continued to enter him. It seared into his very core, burning a path to its new home, into the once broken heart of the Highlander. A heart made new by the Maiden and her song. A heart now fully joined with her own.

  The Sutyne had run its course. They were joined.

  The light completely gone, her strength spent, Shona fell into Dallan’s arms. Dallan however, was looking about himself as he held her, head high, eyes intense, and all senses fully alert and ready.

  “Oh, living stars, Eaton, look at him,” Lany gulped as he watched the Weapons Master stare at the collapsed Maiden, his look fiercely possessive and hard as steel.

  “Don’t worry, he won’t hurt her. He’s adjusting to her heart. It might take him several days. He has her full attributes now too, remember.”

  Lany glanced at Kwaku who stood to one side, Zara in his arms, a proud smile on his face. Lany smiled and chuckled lightly to himself. “Right.”

  “Weel,” Angus began as he detached himself from the bench he’d tangled himself in. “Kissing the bride is one thing, but this tops anything I’ve seen. What happens now?”

  Lany stood and approached the still kneeling couple. “Now they go to the room Zara prepared earlier and have their privacy while we all get a good nights…”

  Dallan’s head spun to Lany, eyes narrowed to slits, their color so intense they almost glowed. He drew Shona closer and growled low in his throat.

  Lany stopped in mid-stride. “Then again, maybe not,” he quickly looked over his shoulder to John.

  “Stay away from him, Lany. He’s not quite back with us yet.”

  “Do tell? How long?” Lany drawled as he began to back up.

  “Give him a minute or two.”

  Kwaku began to laugh and approach Dallan from the rear. “He is fine, Lord Councilor. Let us take dem back inside.”

  “Kawahnee! No!” Zara raced to stop her husband.

  Too late. Dallan let out a howl of anger, grabbed Kwaku’s clothing at the waist and threw him into Angus’s sunflower display thirty feet away.

  Kwaku groaned, sat up slowly and let loose a weak chuckle.

  “Stars, Kwaku, you of all people should know better,” Lany commented calmly, fighting back laughter.

  Zara stood with the others. “He knows, Councilor, but he is too curious for his own good.” She turned to where Kwaku sat sprawled. “Satisfied?”

  Kwaku laughed heartily. “He will now be a challenge! Ha! I have not had a challenge in a long time!”

  Zara shook her head and turned to the couple. Dallan appeared to be calmer; his eyes less intense, his arms holding the Maiden gently as he tenderly looked at her. “Dallan, how do you feel?”

  He raised his head and briefly studied the company. “Lady?” he rasped. “Saints, what happened?”

  Zara knelt beside him. “How do you feel?”

  “I… I feel good. In fact, verra good.”

  “And your heart?”

  “My heart?” He thought a moment and looked to Shona who appeared half-asleep. He raised her face to his own, her tired eyes locking with his. “My heart is fine, Lady. I’m whole again.” He looked to Zara. “But she’s tired and weak. What does she need? Does she need her music?”

  “No, Dallan, not her music. What she needs is you. You must now strengthen her. She has given you back your heart. Now share it with her. Join again.”

  Dallan looked to Shona and whispered, “Aye.” He tightened his hold on the Maiden and stood. “Where?”

  Zara smiled. “I took the liberty of arranging the rear room downstairs. You will be comfortable there until we leave in the morning.”

  Dallan looked to the night sky. “’Tis not far off then.”

  “No, Dallan. Morning is not far off.”

  Shona raised her face to her husband’s. “Dallan?”

  “Aye, lassie, how d’ye feel? Are ye all right?” He began to carry her to the stair’s entrance behind the holly bush, the rest of the company following.

  “I am tired. And hungry.” Her voice was breathy, passionate.

  Dallan stopped and raised a single brow at her, then threw a look at Lany.

  Zara laughed and leaned to Lany’s ear. “I am not the only one who feeds in such a manner. Music is passion, Councilor, and though music is her main food, she has the luxury of variety.”

  Dallan shot him a triumphant smile.

  Lany quickly turned to John. “I want to go home. To my wife. Now.”

  John laughed with the rest of the company and followed Dallan downstairs to the ground floor of the shop.

  When they reached the room prepared for the couple, John let go a tired sigh. “Well, congratulations and, have a good night.”

  Dallan smiled as Shona wrapped her arms around his neck. She took in the smiles and bright eyes of the company then looked at Dallan expectantly and swallowed hard.

  Dallan began to carry her through the door. “What is it, M’flur? What’s wrong?”

  “Dallan, I… I…” She swallowed again and whispered something in his ear while the rest of the company watched.

  Dallan’s eyes got wide and he smiled, then laughed and kissed her on the nose. He shot the rest a mischievous look before turning back to her, one foot slowly closing the door. “I’ll grant yer an innocent, lass, as am I. But dinna worry, Flower, there’s two o’ us. We’re bound to figure it out by morning.”

  The door closed and the company left, smiles on their faces. In a few hours, if all worked out, they would be going home.

  On that dark and fateful night

  They broke my bower and slew my knight,

  Just in my soft and longing arms

  Where I believed him free from harms,

  They placed his tender gentle breast

  And left me with sad griefs oppressed.

  And was I not a weary sight,

  A maid, wife, widow all in a night?

 
; A Sentimental Ballad Written

  of the Glencoe Massacre.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Shona attempted to stretch but didn’t get far. Dallan held her tightly against his body. She welcomed the embrace that until last night she had never known. It was strong, powerful, protective, and safe. A continuation of what the couple shared earlier and would share the rest of their lives.

  Dallan loved her.

  He had spoken, whispered, even cried out those three precious words not hours ago. And though he had given them while deep in the throes of passion, he had also seared her heart afterward not only with his voice, but his heart’s voice as well.

  And she had loved him in return.

  She thought on what happened and realized no words fit, no mortal description was worthy of the experience. All she could think was to thank God He’d made her and her new husband the way He had. For the first time in her life, Shona was fully aware of what she was, a beautiful picture painted by the Creator. A totally unique individual who, as a Muiraran with a mate, became whole.

  Content with the thought, she attempted another stretch and this time was able to free her legs from Dallan’s.

  “Unless ye need to take care o’ some private business, lass, I’ll no let ye go yet,” Dallan’s deep, velvet voice whispered into one ear. “Yer too much a comfort.”

  He loosened his hold enough to let her finish stretching then pulled her around to face him. Their eyes locked and he kissed her gently. Neither spoke, or needed to with voice or heart, their actions and eyes spoke for them. They gazed at each other in the dim light of dawn creeping through the window, both recalling the previous hours, reveling in the thought they were now one.

  After the room brightened a bit more, Dallan propped himself up on an elbow and tweaked Shona’s nose. “Yer a rare sight in the morning, Flower. I ha’ a feeling temptation ‘twould cause me to keep us a-bed long after sunrise.”

  Shona smiled at him. I love you.

  Dallan gripped her with a possessive stare. I know. He kissed her tenderly and settled down to cradle her in the crook of his arm. “’Tis early yet. Sleep some more. Ye’ll need it, M’eudain, for what’s to come.”