Page 36 of The Ranger

“You mean his heart.”

“Yes. Maida Comfort is, as you say, sweet. Kind. Benevolent. Can she tame his heart? That is de question.”

She looked at the forest ahead. “Yes, so the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can return and see him.”

Kwaku gave her a grave nod. In truth, he was worried about Markhel. He would sacrifice himself to save others. It wasn’t just in his character; he was trained for it. The man was built for war, but there were no wars to be fought expect the one in his heart, and that was to be the most vicious war of all. Would he survive? No one could say. Only time would tell, and unfortunately, Markhel wasn’t the only thing he and Zara had to worry about with this assignment. If his guess was right, this new enemy the Muirarans had might have damaged more than the timeline.

They stalked into the forest, Kwaku leading the way. They would have to pick their way around trees and foliage, the trail that had once led through the woods gone now. Still, he knew the way well enough, and instinctively kept heading east.

It was some time before they crossed the mountain range and broke through the trees to emerge onto more prairie land. It soon gave way to high desert dotted with sage brush and juniper trees. “There, Pretty One, beyond those hills.”

Zara looked in the direction he pointed, gave him a single nod, and they took off again. They pair could run for days and covered a lot of ground quickly in the open. He would have to train Dallan and Shona to do the same. He made a mental note to add long distance running to the list of things he had yet to train his former weapons master. If they ever got a break that is. King Jaireth wanted as many of his missing people recovered as possible, but it wasn’t as easy as all that. Jaireth knew this, yet he still insisted on sending Dallan and Shona out on assignments that Kwaku felt they weren’t ready for. Yet the boy and his mate had surprised him on more than one occasion and made him proud.

They reached the hill and Kwaku stopped, letting his inner heart search. Zara closed her eyes and let him, their joined heart skimming their surroundings searching for any sign of their enemy.

“He has not been here, Kawahnee,” Zara said, using the nickname reserved for those closest to him.

He cupped one side of her face. “Dat is good.” He drew closer and kissed her. “Are you hungry, my beloved.” He’d whispered it into her ear, knowing how she would react.

“Yes, but it must wait.” She pulled his hand from her cheek. “The village first.”

“Of course.” He smiled, then chuckled low in his throat, a promise of what he would give her as soon as they had the chance. He knew her heart was hungry, and he hated seeing her go without sustenance for too long. Especially not after Bartrol tried to starve them to death while he held them captive.

Bartrol. The Muiraran’s heart had become corrupted over time, and no one knew why. He in turn had corrupted others, including Philip Brennan, Kwaku’s predecessor. He’d stolen Shona Whittard, now Dallan’s mate when she was a child, hid her in another time, and as soon as she was grown, tried to take her for himself. Something that should have been impossible, yet Brennan almost succeeded.

They kept running, leaving a small tendril of dust behind them. It wouldn’t be long now. He thought of Philip Brennan’s slow progression into corruption, and Bartrol’s hand in it. How many others had Bartrol corrupted that none of them knew about? How many had he killed along the way? There were so many Muiraran outposts now, it was hard to tell. They needed more manpower, more Time Masters called out of retirement to help. The sooner the better as far as he was concerned. But Jaireth, though he knew they needed the help, was hesitant. Did he fear they wouldn’t come? Or worse, that the humans would find out? That was the biggest concern. It was bad enough they were fighting an unseen enemy, but to have the humans involved would be too much. For one, the humans outnumbered the Muirarans by an incredible amount. If they were to discover their existence within the different centuries where they hid themselves, the casualties could be catastrophic. They would be hunted, experimented on, tortured. No, the best thing to do was to take care of this quietly, efficiently, and as soon as possible. If they had to call in the other Time Masters, then so be it.

“Is that it?” Zara asked as she came to a stop. She nodded at a meadow below. A creek ran through it, and Kwaku smiled. “Yes, my Pretty One. Dis is it.” He started down the hill they’d just run up. The old Indian village had once occupied a small valley. The meadow was at the center of it where the creek was widest. He stopped when he reached it and let their joined heart search. “Good, I do not sense dem.”

“Then he will not find any clues,” she said.

“No, my love. He won’t.” Kwaku breathed a sigh of relief. “But we will search the area none the less. Philp Brennan cannot be allowed to discover where or when his children are hidden.”

* * *

Maida hurriedthrough the dishes Grandma Sadie kept putting into the washtub, dried them, then left to find their house guests. She didn’t know why they intrigued her so, but she did have questions for them. They were royalty, after all, and she liked Makama Berg almost instantly.

Oh, and there was also Mr. Markhel. He was… interesting. And tall. So tall. She bet he could pull a small tree up by the roots! He’d come in handy when it came time to fix a wagon wheel. It was easy to picture him lifting a wagon and holding it while the old wheel was taken off, and the new one put on.

There was no sign of anyone in the barnyard, so she checked the barn. Hmm, nothing there either. Where could they be? Were they at Colin and Belle’s house? Before she could check, Pa, Grandpa and Mama rode over the rise that led to the cattle and started their descent toward the houses. She waved as she came out of the barn and crossed the barnyard. Maybe Aunt Belle had taken them up the rise to show them the expanse of prairie beyond and the ranch’s grazing lands.

“Maida,” Mama called. “What are you doing just standing there?” She kicked her buckskin horse into a trot and headed for her.

She watched her mother come, her grandfather not far behind, and clasped her hands behind her back. “We have company. Did you see them?” She stood on tiptoe, as if that would help her find Aunt Belle and their guests.

“Company?” Mama said and brought her gelding, Jake, to a stop. “Who?”

Maida smiled, waiting for Papa and Grandpa to catch up. “Andel Berg’s son and his new bride.”

“W-what?” Grandpa sputtered. “Is Andel here?”

“No, Grandpa. But his son Vale is, along with his new wife. They’re on their honeymoon, and they have a bodyguard with them.”

Pa brought his horse, Oswald to a stop. “Bodyguard?” he said, his smooth southern accent more pronounced than usual. “What are they, royalty… oh, wait. Didn’t you say they were?” He looked at Grandpa. “This is the blacksmith that became a prince consort?”

“Yes,” Grandpa said. “I must admit, I’ve never met any of Andel and Maddie’s children.”

“Well, it’s not like you’ve had time to run off to Dalrovia, Pa,” Mama said. She dismounted and began to lead her horse to the barn. “Maida, care to help me?”