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

from Robert Campbell’s unmoved dirk ; slowly disappear behind a blanket of darkness.
    Dallan MacDonald contemplated if he was dying but honestly didn’t know; all he did know was he had not saved Alasdair and the deep booming laugh behind him was getting louder. These were the only two realizations to accompany him into the blackness that took him from his brother, his home, and his very life.

My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here.
    My heart’s in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;
    A-chasing the wild deer and following the roe,
    My heart’s in the highlands wherever I go.
     
    Robert Burns
     
     
    CHAPTER ONE
     
    Somewhere, in the far and distant future…
     
    The distinct slow clomp, clomp of footsteps— big footsteps — slowly approached the training arena’s monstrous wooden doors upon which crudely c arved fi r trees stood like giant sentinels. Sentinels waiting to deny entrance to anyone and everyone not deemed worthy. Th e owner of the footsteps, his large sandaled feet taking up more room than the stone fl oor was used to, stopped at the doors and gave them a healthy push.
    Tired hinges squeaked and groaned from the forced movement as the doors swung open to allow the huge man admittance into the brightness of the arena. He stood poised on the threshold and took in the villagers milling about nearby, whom , in turn, noticed him as well.
    They froze.
    He grinned.
    One by one the rest of the villagers stopped their work as they caught sight of the new arrival. A resulting hush quickly rippled its way across the arena to bathe everything in deadly silence. No one moved. No one even dared breathe. And no one wanted to be there.
    Every thing went incredibly still.
    The man raise d his ebony face to the sky, fl ung his long arms out to either side of his seven-foot-tall warrior’s frame and bellowed, “Greetings happy sunshine made by Creator’s hand!” His ancient African accent hung on the air before it was follo wed by a deep booming laugh. Th e long bright purple and yellow robe s of his people, the Azurti, fl oated on the slight breeze passing through the arena as he inhaled a healthy lungful of crisp morning air.
    The villagers still stood frozen to the spot. They’d been caught off guard. No one expected him this early. And they were all out in the open, all easy prey. Any one of their lot could be brutally snatched up by him. And everyone knew what that meant.
    As if the horrifying realization could be made any clearer a woman’s high-pitched screa m suddenly rent the air, the fi rst of many, which of course set off the usual chain reaction.
    Birds shot from the arena’s hidden nooks and crannies amidst a fl urry of feathers and squawks. A horse threw its rider. Work baske ts were thrown to the ground as hats flew through the swirling dust. An occasional foot even lost a shoe as the retreating villagers all became helplessly trapped in the now thick, cold, panic-stricken air.
    Oblivious to the melee, the man in the door way smiled at the sky, sighed, patted his broad chest in satis faction as he always did, and blissfully ignored the wild shuffle of anxious feet as the villagers of Genis Lee continued to run for cover.
    Kwaku Awahnee, Time Master of Muirara, had just arrived, and anyone with any sense at all was making tracks while there was still time. Th e villagers knew it best to get themselves as far away from Kwaku as possible before one of them got, well, volunteered for anything. Something most of their lot likened to being asked to go toss themselves off a thou sand-foot cliff . Needless to say, none were too eager to volunteer or let themselves be volunteered for anything having to do with him. It was just too painful.
    Kwaku, fi nished with his prayer, gave his chest one last pat and scanned the arena for any signs of life amidst the settling dust.
    There were none.
    Or so it appeared. He knew well all the hiding spots of the villagers that had to be there, those assigned