Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) Read Online Free PDF

nearest man on the back to send him sprawling. “Did you see what de Boyeee did?” he chortled as he proudly looked to Dallan and yanked a now dust-covered John to his feet.
    Lany waved Kwaku away from John while he was still in one piece, and the Azurti backed up before Lany’s hand could reach him. Th e movement was fl uid, graceful and to Lany’s irritation, carefully timed.
    Kwaku laughed again as he headed in Dallan’s direction, who unfortunately was still too stunned by his recent acc omplishment to notice. “Magnifi cent move, Boyeee!” Whap!
    Once again, Dallan was face down in the dirt. He cursed under his breath in his ancient Gaelic and began to rise, but his injured shoulder had other ideas. He groaned and collapsed onto the ground in a painful heap.
    Kwaku nudged him with a huge sandaled foot. “You did well today, yes?”
    Dallan turned over, stared up at Kwaku and with teeth clenched from bruising pain, climbed to his feet. “Dinna ever threaten wee Padric like that again, ye heartless heathen.”
    Kwaku broke into hysterics before he fell into an unusual calm. “You of all people, Boyeee, should know a good Master does not take advantage of de weak.”
    John and Lany exchanged a look, each thinking the impossible. Was Kwaku Awahnee being serious?
    “Take advantage! Ye good-for-nothing, ye could ha’ hurt the lad!”
    Kwaku chuckled lightly. “No, Boyeee. I knew I would not get de chance.”
    Dallan’s eyes narrowed as he cocked his head slightly to one side.
    Kwaku leaned into the Scot’s face. “De young one had too much trust in his eyes. Trust in you, Boyeee. It is diffi cult for harm to come to anyone with such a treasure in his… or her possession. De boy knew you would save him, even if you were unsure.”
    Dallan closed his eyes briefl y, his face suddenly awash with a diff erent kind of pain.
    “Trust, Boyeee,” Kwaku began on a whisper, “is a precious gift, yes?”
    Dallan opened his eyes and shot the Azurti a penetrating stare. “Trust must be earned.”
      Kwaku chuckled deeply. “Yes, Boyeee. And how do you suppose you earned de trust of de young one? Hmm?” He laughed and spun on his heel toward the huge doors.
    Dallan, John and Lany watched as Kwaku left, all pondering the Time Master’s last words, with Dallan’s own thoughts coming to an unsettling conclusion. How had he managed to win Padric’s trust?
    Dallan honestly didn’t know.

Th ere are three words that sweetly blend,
    Th at on the heart are graven;
    A precious, soothing balm they lend—
    Th ey’re mother, home and heaven!
     
    Mary J. Muckle
     
     
    CHAPTER TWO
     
    Dallan groaned, not with pain, as one might expect considering the state of his right shoulder, but with pure aggravation.
    Dall an’s bloodlust for Kwaku had fi nally reached the boiling point. He wanted nothing more than to lay the heathen out, make him land on the hard ground for once, let him all but crawl to the healer’s quarters to have his tired, bruised body tended to. Let the bloody heathen hear for once the words Dallan had heard countless times since his arrival in the village long ago. So, he got you again, did he?
    Let him be the one to get up every morning praying to the Almighty that today be the day. Th e day he could fin ally, after years of waiting, have his revenge.
    Ah, ‘tis a sweet dream, lad. Dallan tho ught to himself with a sigh. Th e problem was, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t quite make it a reality. And by all the Sain ts, he could not fi gure out how the blasted, good-for-nothing heathen beat him so repeatedly and consistently. Aft er ten years of training and fi ghting with the Azurti warrior, one would think him able to best Kwaku a few times a week, or even occasional ly. How could that man fi ght and never seem to tire, while driving Dallan to the point of exhaustion and beyond?
    Mayhaps the heathen was bewitched, or had access to some healer’s draught that enabled him to go past what any