Lany turned to him once more, lips pressed firmly together in a tight smile. “What does Anwen think of having to live in the palace in Mishna?”
John sighed. “She isn’t thrilled. She likes her privacy. Kwaku said he and Zara would try to talk the Elders into giving us their old quarters. It’s separate from the palace, more like having your own house.”
“Ah, that would be good.”
They stood there a moment, neither wanting the other to speak, knowing that when they did, it would mean goodbye.
John smiled. “I should go in now. Anwen is probably waiting.”
Lany swallowed and held out his hand. “I’ll be seeing you at the formal Sutyne then, Lord High Councilor.”
John’s smile broadened as he glanced to the new ring of office on his right hand, a large ruby surrounded by flames of gold and silver. Deep within the depths of the ruby was the symbol of the Time Masters, the same as on Zara and Shona's head bands which depicted their positions. “I hope I don’t lose this thing.”
Lany laughed as they shook hands. “Just don’t let any of your daughters play dress-up with it and you’ll be fine.”
Their hands parted and Lany took a deep breath. John smiled again. “Paul Dietrich will want to speak with you. He’ll want your help in several matters to start. All the preliminary changes of office, that sort of thing.”
Lany let out the breath he’d been holding and sagely nodded. “I’ll see he gets everything he needs for his new position. I’m sure he’ll do fine as Lord Councilor. The Elders can’t dispute him. Stars, he’s what, fifty-six now? He’s been on your staff for fifteen years.”
John had to stifle another smile. “Something like that.”
Lany nodded uncomfortably to the door. “You’d better go in, and I have to go. Cari’s probably out of patience waiting for me.”
John let the smile loose. “Yes, you wouldn’t want your celebration dinner to get cold.”
Lany had turned from John and was already walking away. He stopped up short and looked back. “What was that?”
“I said you wouldn’t want your celebration dinner to get cold… Lord Councilor.”
Lany stood a moment in stunned silence, jaw slack as John approached, digging one hand into his councilor’s robes. He pulled out a ring and held it up before Lany, a thick band of gold made into the likeness of flames of fire, the symbol of the Time Masters in its center. John took Lany’s right hand and placed it on his ring finger. “Congratulations. I’ll see you in the morning.” He turned, a huge grin on his face, and began to walk away.
Lany finally found his senses and grabbed him. “What? Lord Councilor! Eaton, what are you saying?”
John casually pulled Lany’s hand off and continued on. “I’m saying goodnight to the new Lord Councilor of Sutter’s Province.” He reached the door and stopped. “And now if you don’t mind, I’d like to go inside and have my dinner?”
Lany rushed to the door. “But Eaton, Dietrich has almost twice my experience. How did I get it?”
“Lany, you have been working with him for seven years. Paul will be moving to Mishna with me; he’ll be my assistant there.”
“But still…”
“It’s the Lord High Councilor’s job to fill the positions of the Lord Councilors.”
“Well, I, yes, I know.”
“And it’s also the Lord High Councilor’s job to choose whomever he feels is best for the position.”
“I… yes, I knew that too.”
“Lany,” John began in all seriousness. “You are the best man for the job. Paul Dietrich is a good soldier, but you have the firsthand experience. And besides, Dallan likes you.” John opened the door to his house.
Lany let go a tiny giggle. “Lord Councilor. Me!”
John smiled again. “I’m going to have my dinner. Go home and have yours. Your family is waiting for you.” He entered and closed the door behind him, leaving Lany standing on the porch in disbelief.
He didn’t stay in disbelief for long. “What did he say? Besides, Dallan likes you?” His eyes suddenly bulged with the realization of what his new position entailed and he began to yell at the door. “Eaton! Wait a minute! Does this mean I’m going to have to warrior-sit for the next several years? You can’t do this to me! It’s a joke, right?”
John stood in silent laughter on the other side of the door with his wife Anwen who, with arms crossed, held a bemused expression on her face. “John Eaton, sometimes I think you’ve spent too much time with Kwaku.”
Lany began to pound on the door and was now spouting something about Scottish tempers and bad backs. John shrugged innocently. “I can’t do this without Lany. And he really is the best one for the job.” John turned to the door and yelled, “Go home, Lany!” A dead silence was soon followed by footsteps shuffling into the distance.
John smiled again and sighed. “And of course he’s also stuck with the new Time Master for what, oh, let me see, the rest of his life? Yes that’s it.” He chuckled to himself. “At least Dallan won’t be as hard on Lany’s back as Kwaku is.”
“Yes, but what bad habits does Dallan have?”
John looked at his wife with a raised brow and shrugged. “Lany will just have to find that out on his own.”
The new Lord High Councilor laughed heartily, kissed his wife and ushered her into dinner.
* * *
“Here now, lad, let me ha’ that one so ye can start on the rest.” Angus offered as he took a huge, newly sharpened claymore from Dallan and carefully set it on a nearby rack.
“Thank ye, Angus, ‘tis nice to ha’ ye here.” Dallan said as he reached for another sword. They worked at a makeshift table set up outside Dallan’s cottage, the early evening air placid and warm. Dallan worked in his faded, worn kilt, his Sark discarded long ago and carelessly thrown across the wooden bench near the cottage’s front door.
Mother MacNab shuffled out and grabbed the shirt up with a quick sweep of her hand. “And who does this belong to? Ye ken I hates it when ye men leave yer things lying about! Do I has to take me stick to yer thick backsides?”
Dallan sighed and looked over his shoulder at her. “’Tis mine, mother. I was going to bring it in later.”
“Aye, sure ye were. I’m an old woman! Ye canna expect me to pick up after ye like this!”
Dallan smiled and turned back to his sword. “Aye, mother, as ye say.”
Mother turned on her heel, reentered the small cottage Sark in hand and slammed the door with a loud thud.
Angus shook his head. “Now that Zara’s healed me mother, there’ll be no peace for any o’ us. Are ye sure ye dinna want to retract yer invitation to ha’ us come live wi’ ye here in the village, lad? She’s liable to drive ye crazy.”
Dallan turned back to his cottage and listened to Mother talk to a lance propped near the open window. “Aye, she’ll drive me crazy. But I wilna see ye by yerselves. We need to be together, banded like clansmen, Angus. I just wish she’d go home to your cottage rather than spend the day in mine!”
Angus laughed and nodded his agreement. “She likes you and the lass.”
“Aye, that she does. No harm done so long as she goes home at night. And she does great with the wee lads. Besides, Alasdair needs to ha’ someone like yerself as well. Saints, I canna be brother and father to him, no more than Shona can be sister and mother. We need ye here. Both o’ you”
Angus beamed. “Ye dinna mind then if I takes the lad and Padric fishing tomorrow? There be a fine stream a mile into the woods. The heathen says the fish are as big as they come there.”
“Aye, he's mentioned it to us as well. Go ahead. It’s been a long week, ha’ a bit o’ fun wi’ them.” Dallan glanced about himself expectantly. “Where are the wee savages, anyway? Come to think o’ it, where’s my wife?”
Angus snorted and shook his head. “Lost her already, have ye? A might fine husband yer turning out to be!”
“Honest Angus, I dinna ken where she went. I wish she w
ould stay close. She’s a wanderer, that one.”
“This is all new to her. She has as much adjusting as you yerself do. Ye’ve only been marrit a little over a week, and this is a whole new world for her. She’s curious, lad, nothing more.” As an afterthought he added, “She’s probably with Alasdair and Padric, in the cookhouse feeding the kittens.”
Dallan cringed. “Bloody good-for-nothing cats. Why did she ha’ to bring back so many? Och, two or three I can live with, but ten? That Kitty Morgan will be the death o’ me. Did I tell you how I got the burn on my arm?”
Angus chuckled. About thirty times, he thought to himself.
“The lass hit me with a hot pan! She’s destructive, she is! I hope Shona doesna want to visit her too soon. At least not until I’ve recovered from this last visit!”
"Ye well ken ye could ha' had yer wife mend it."
"Aye, but I wanted a reminder not to get too close to the wee chirper again any time soon."
Angus laughed loudly and handed him another sword just as Shona appeared with Alasdair and Padric, kittens spilling out of three sets of arms.
“Look, Dallan!” Alasdair began. “Their stomachs are full now. Shona says we can play wi’ them!”
Dallan watched as kitten after kitten ran right for him. For some reason, the little things loved him. He did not return the affection readily. “Why, ye nasty wee things! Get away from me!” Several kittens climbed up his soft leather boots, one managing to jump to his kilt and swing from the worn plaid, claws ripping the fabric in its desperate attempt to hang on.
Shona’s musical laughter reached her husband’s ears, calming his annoyance. “They like you, Dallan. Why do you not play with them awhile?”
Dallan pried the kitten off and looked at her, capturing her easily in a heated gaze. She was wearing the same dress she had worn during their joining and recent adventures, choosing now and then to wear it instead of her own clothes. He’d not had time to get her any new clothing; they had not yet been to the city and Genis Lee, by John and Kwaku’s order, had been evacuated to allow the newly joined couple some much-needed privacy. Only Padric and his father had been allowed to stay. “Come here, lass,” he beckoned in a velvet voice.
She put down the kittens she’d been holding and went to him. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her tenderly. At last, the kiss broken, Shona looked at the surrounding weapons. “What are you doing?”
Dallan smiled, “Not what I’d like to be doing.” He looked about, scanning the area, then whispered, “’Tis a fine evening, let’s fetch the blanket out o’my trunk and go to the meadow again tonight, Flower.”
She escaped his embrace and smiled shyly. “Do you not have to finish here first?”
“The weapons can wait,” he again whispered to her softly. “I canna.”
She smiled again, picked up a saber and absently studied it. “It is very warm. Maybe we should go to the stream Kwaku told us about instead?”
Dallan began wrapping his sharpening stone and was about to agree when he noticed what she was doing. “Nay, Flower. Put the blade down. ’Tis sharp.”
Shona looked at him with a raised brow. “I know it is sharp.”
Dallan stood behind her and, wrapping his arms around her, took the saber from her hands. “Aye and I’ll no see ye hurt yerself. Dinna touch them again, M’eudain.”
Angus drew his lower lip between his teeth a few times and motioned Alasdair and Padric over to his side. “Come, lads. Lets go see what’s left in the sweets barrel.”
Padric’s eyes widened. “But Angus,” he squeaked. “My father will kill us if we get caught!”
“Aye, laddie, but I aim to see we dinna get caught. Let’s be off !” Angus grabbed them and ushered them away from the cottage. He looked over his shoulder once to see Shona glaring at her husband’s hands, and began to laugh knowingly. He knew what was sure to happen next.
“I know how to handle a weapon, Dallan,” she commented calmly.
Dallan kept his hands over hers and laughed. “I’ll take care o’ my blades, Flower. I dinna want ye to get hurt.”
She turned in his arms to face him. “I said, I can handle a weapon.”
He brought his lips within a hairsbreadth of her own. “Aye and ye can handle me when we get to the stream.” He moved to kiss her but she squirmed out of his arms.
She picked up the saber again. “I can prove it.”
Dallan threw her a stern look. “Now lass, put the blade down.”
Shona stood straight, blade in hand and backed up a step or two. “No.”
Dallan’s face fell into shock for a split second before his eyes narrowed. “Put the blade down, Flower. Now, please.”
She grabbed another saber from the table and threw it at him.
He caught it and took a threatening step in her direction. “Saints, woman, what d’ye think yer doing?”
“Do not get angry, Dallan. I wish only to prove a point.”
“As do I. Put that blade down!”
She smiled, stepped away from the table, and assumed a fencing position. “En Garde.”
Dallan’s face fell. “Ye canna be serious, lass. Come here and give me the blade.” He began to slowly approach her.
She sensed the predatory air about him and backed up a step, then took on her previous position. “En Garde.”
Dallan rolled his eyes. “Och, lass, ye try my patience.”
She smiled and giggled.
“Oh, yer having a wee bit o’ fun now, are ye? Weel, we’ll see about that.” He began a purposeful stride toward her when she suddenly stood straight and alert, her eyes flying to the edge of the nearby woods.
Dallan was immediately at her side and took the sword from her. “What is it, Flower? What’s wrong?” He searched the area with his own warrior’s senses, following her gaze, then suddenly relaxed and brought her close to his chest.
She looked up at him expectantly. “Someone is there.”
“Aye,” Dallan agreed.
Shona cocked her head and searched the surrounding woods with her heart. “Oh. That is who it is.”
“Aye,” Dallan replied. “Blasted, bloody, good-for-nothing heathen.” He began to usher her back to the table. “Probably up a tree.”
Shona looked over her shoulder once to the woods and smiled. “Why are they here, Dallan?”
He set the swords on the table, turned and pulled her into his arms. “Better to ha’ the heathen nearby than a passel o’ guards from the city, M’eudain.”
“I do not understand. What guards?”
“Seems the Elders deem the two o’ us a rare commodity, and they want nothing to happen between now and the formal Sutyne next week. Yer mother and father here havena returned from wherever it was they went, and they left orders. I didna think ye’d be verra comfortable wi’ all those people around, even if they are yer own kind. I thought ye might like the privacy. I ken I do.”
She smiled and snuggled closer. “Thank you.” Her hand reached around him and grabbed a handful of his kilt, giving it a light tug.
“Och, lassie! Not here. Can ye no wait, Flower? Let me get the blanket first.”
She gave him a huge grin then suddenly jumped away from him, sword in hand. “En Garde.”
Dallan groaned. “I’ll no tell ye again, lass. Give me the blade and let’s go to the stream.”
Shona’s eyes became fierce, her body tense and ready. “En Garde.”
Dallan stood to his full height and eyed her, measuring her up. He shook his head in resignation. “The Almighty says ‘tis better to sleep on the roof o’ yer house than be under it with a quarrelsome woman. He didna say anything about a woman wi’ a sword.” He picked up the other saber. “I’ll no play wi’ ye, lass. Ye’ve used up my patience.”
Her eyes narrowed.
He stood there a moment in regretful anger. “Have it your way.” He lunged at her and she blocked him expertly and sent him to the dusty ground. Dallan had never seen anyone move so fast. He cl
imbed to his feet and looked her up and down in disbelief.
She smiled at him. “I told you. I know how to handle a weapon.”
Dallan began to smile as well. “Aye, little one, I see ye do. Now, let’s see how well.” He circled her, lunged, and for a second time was blocked and thrown to the dirt.
He shook himself this time, surprised at the force with which she’d landed him and again climbed to his feet. “All right, I’ll no play wi’ ye any longer. En Garde.”
With that, Shona attacked, and they fought as warriors.
Kwaku’s laughter boomed from his hiding place in a huge oak as he drew his wife into his arms. They watched the couple battle each other, the new Time Master obviously the better of the two, proving it by occasionally grabbing his wife to kiss her as he feigned a pass or thrust.
“Dey battle well togeder, yes?”
Zara curled into his arms. “Yes, Kawahnee, they do.”
Kwaku held her tighter and whispered into her ear. “Hungry, beloved?”
She looked up at him as her ebony eyes filled with passion.
He smiled and kissed her, then looked back to the couple. “Let us go to de stream, den. She will keep him busy here for awhile.”
Zara glanced to the fighting pair. “Kawahnee, how can you be sure?”
Kwaku laughed heartily. “Because, beloved, de Boyeee is far too curious, and who knows? Maybe he has finally met his match!” Both began to laugh as he took his wife’s hand and began to lead her down the tree.
It was indeed good to be home.
Geralyn Beauchamp, a Wellness and Relationship coach, has written for fun all h er life. A book reviewer for five years, she got to know a lot of great people and write a really big book! A book her author friends finally convinced her to share! Because of this her coaching has segued into writing and marketing for both aspiring and published authors. Geralyn likes to spend her time between Northern California and the Pacific Northwest.
Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) Page 57
