Page 13 of The Ranger
Markhel smiled. “Knowing the king, I am surprised he allowed it.”
Shona exchanged a knowing smile with Dallan. “I think I might have had something to do with that.”
Markhel arched an eyebrow in question.
Dallan winked at her. “My wife has been having a positive effect on the king of late.”
Shona smiled proudly. “What can I say? I’m turning him into an old softie.”
“He loves you,” Markhel stated. “He cannot deny you everything.”
“He had an odd way of showing it at first,” she said. “But I think we’re getting used to each other now.”
Markhel shifted and climbed to his feet. His tight muscles made him stiff, and the pain of the Call hit hard a moment ago. If he didn’t limber up by the time the next wave hit, he’d be stiffer still. He moved his arms about, then stretched.
“It’s amazing you can do that after receiving a Call,” Shona observed.
“Aye, but that’s only because he’s not in real pain yet.”
Markhel stared at Dallan. “It hurt.”
“Oh aye, and it’s going to hurt a lot worse. Trust me.”
Markhel continued to stretch. Of course, he was right. It would get worse. He could take a punch. A lot of them, and those from other Muirarans. But this was a different kind of pain, and he began to think he wasn’t as prepared for it as he thought.
The pain of a Call was excruciating. It started out small, then as time passed, grew more intense. If one of his kind did not willingly join with the one calling, if his inner heart had nothing to merge with, then the pain would kill him, and the one calling to him.
He hung his head when he realized that if Maida Comfort had even an ounce of Muiraran blood, then she would die. He was hoping by some miracle she was fully human and might be spared. But no, that wasn’t the case now, and the reason Kwaku and Zara were here.
“Is anyone hungry?” Shona asked. “I am. Did Melvale leave any supplies?”
“No,” Markhel said. “I’ll have to get some.” He met Dallan’s knowing gaze. “These people have not seen me in years. I look the same.”
“I ken ye do, but there’s nothing to be done about it, but yer camouflage instinct will keep them from seeing ye havena aged.”
“The whole town?”
“Oh, aye, you of all people should ken that, Markhel. No one says a word because they’re afraid they might be wrong. Never underestimate yer ability to camouflage. But yer no the one that will draw attention. Having Kwaku in town is enough to send folks scurrying to their homes and locking the doors.”
“Dallan, he’s not that bad,” Shona scolded then sobered. “Of course, we can’t go to town. It will cause too much of a stir. But darn, I’m hungry.” She got to her feet and paced. “I could go for some of Irene’s pot roast.”
“Dinna fash,M’eudain. Ye’ll get something. Melvale might have forgotten to leave supplies, but Zara will bring food from town. She knows how forgetful he’s become.”
“He is weakening,” Markhel stated. “His time is coming.”
Shona gave him a sympathetic look. “We know.”
They grew silent. All three knew he and Melvale might not survive. Princess Shona, who wore her heart on her sleeve, gave him another sympathetic look. “This will work. You’ll have Vale and Makama to help you out, and Grandma.”
To his surprise, his eyes burned with unshed tears at the mention of Grandma Waller. “Wise one,” he said under his breath. It was a name of reverence for the old woman, not to mention Sita Mihn. His race revered wisdom, and Grandma Waller had a lot of it. “I have avoided her these last weeks.”
“We know,” Shona said. “Here you won’t have to.”
He smiled, a rare sight he knew. He was stoic, factual, and when his heart was hungry, a force to be reckoned with. Which made him think. “Time Master, how am I to feed my heart while I’m here?”
“Vale has agreed to help ye. But please dinna damage the prince.” Dallan eyed Shona. “Or his mate.”
Markhel blew out a breath as his shoulders slumped. “I will do my best. Perhaps they can both help at once.”