TIME'S DARING DELIVERY - EPISODE 2
✍️ EPISODE 2 TIME’S DARING DELIVERY - THE HEALERS CHOICE
By Paul G. Landry
Previously on Time’s Daring Delivery… 
The throne room was cool, dim, and filled with echoes.
Rich rugs stretched across polished stone floors. Tapestries lined the walls. Gold and silver ornamentation gleamed softly in the filtered light.
At the far end seated on a throne, King Monburjani.
He was a man in his sixties, regal and imposing, with white hair and a full beard that framed sharp, intelligent eyes. Though age had touched him, authority had not.
Court officials stood silently along the walls as Joe and Jeni were forced to their knees before the throne.
A captain stepped forward, speaking rapidly in a foreign tongue.
Joe tried to rise.
A spear immediately pushed him back down.
“Hey! We didn’t do anything!”
The room fell silent.
Then a man stepped forward.
Aga was in his fifties, dressed plainly but with unmistakable confidence.
Precise.
Intelligent.
Dangerously calm.
He studied them carefully.
Then, in clear English, he spoke.
“You speak this language, yes?”
Joe and Jeni froze.
Joe blinked.
“You speak English?”
The man nodded.
“Learned from merchants. Long ago.”
He turned and quietly spoke to the king.
The court murmured.
Then he faced them again.
“You are accused of spying for Mongol raiders.”
Jeni looked sharply at Joe.
Joe looked back in disbelief.
“Spies? No. No, no. We deliver packages.”
Blank stares.
“We’re from New York. America.”
He hesitated.
“Future. Long story.”
The murmuring in the room grew louder.
The translator watched them with growing curiosity.
The king slowly rose.
Instant silence.
“You are strangers,” King Monburjani said.
“Perhaps liars. Perhaps fools.”
He studied them both.
“But you are not warriors.”
He gestured toward the guards.
“They will be washed. Fed. Held.”
Joe exhaled in relief.
Then the king added:
“Then we decide if they live.”
Joe’s relief vanished.
As the guards pulled them to their feet, he leaned toward Jeni.
“So… good news first or bad news first?”
Jeni’s chamber was unexpectedly elegant.
Warm sunlight filtered through carved lattice windows. Rich rugs covered the floor. Silk cushions were arranged carefully around polished furniture.
Two ladies-in-waiting worked quickly, removing her soaked scrubs and dressing her in layers of linen and wool.
Muted browns.
Heavy fabric.
Jeni tugged at the sleeves.
“Everything’s beige.”
The attendants smiled politely, understanding none of it.
They braided her hair tightly, securing it with pins.
She winced.
Then the door opened.
Princess Kalinda entered.
She was young, perhaps sixteen or seventeen, with striking red hair that caught the light like fire.
Small in stature.
Poised.
Curious.
Kind.
The attendants bowed and quietly slipped away.
Kalinda studied Jeni with fascinated eyes.
“You speak the western trade tongue. Yes?”
Jeni blinked.
“You speak English?”
“Little.”
Kalinda moved closer, picking up Jeni’s discarded scrubs.
“You are not soldiers.”
“Definitely not spies.”
Kalinda touched the unfamiliar fabric.
“Then what are you?”
Jeni searched for a simple answer.
“I help heal people. When they’re hurt. Or sick.”
Kalinda’s eyes widened.
“A healer.”
Jeni smiled.
“Yeah.”
She nodded.
“That’s simpler.”
Kalinda touched Jeni’s dyed hair.
“Your hair… very brave color.”
Jeni laughed.
“You should see the nurses on night shift.”
Kalinda laughed too.
For a moment, they were simply two women sharing an unexpected friendship.
Then distant shouting echoed somewhere inside the fortress.
The reminder returned.
They were not safe here.
Kalinda’s smile faded.
“My father wishes to meet you again. Tonight.”
It was not a request.
Jeni swallowed.
Joe’s chamber was much less impressive.
Stone walls.
One narrow window.
A rope bed.
One chair.
That was it.
Joe wrestled awkwardly with a thick wool tunic.
It was on backward.
Aga watched him with quiet amusement.
“How many people died inventing this thing?”
Without a word, Ali turned the garment around.
Joe scratched his neck.
“Feels like I’m wearing a carpet.”
Aga tied the belt neatly.
Joe looked at him.
“So… big question.”
He took a breath.
“Where the hell are we?”
Aga hesitated.
Then answered.
“This kingdom is called Kragistan.”
Joe nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
Aga continued.
“And the year…”
His voice was precise.
“One thousand two hundred twenty-five.”
Joe stared.
Waiting for the rest.
There wasn’t any.
His face drained.
“Twelve what?”
“One thousand two hundred twenty-five.”
Joe did the math.
Slowly.
Painfully.
“We left home in twenty twenty-five.”
He looked around the stone room.
“That’s eight hundred years.”
Aga said nothing.
Reality settled over Joe like a second wool tunic.
“You gotta be kidding me.”
He collapsed onto the rope bed.
It creaked loudly beneath him.
“I miss Wi-Fi already.”
Aga studied him carefully.
“You truly are not spies.”
Joe looked up.
“Buddy, if we were spies…”
He tugged at his rough clothes.
“We’d be way better dressed.”
For the first time, Aga almost smiled.
Almost.
That evening, the great hall was packed.
Long tables.
Banners.
Guards lining the walls.
Joe and Jeni were marched inside.
King Monburjani sat above them.
Princess Kalinda beside him.
And another man.
Mustaba.
Wealthy.
Well dressed.
Predatory.
His eyes studied Joe and Jeni like insects pinned beneath glass.
Aga quietly translated their story for the king.
Murmurs spread through the hall.
Then Mustaba stepped forward.
“Spies,” he said sharply.
“Kill them now.”
Aga translated.
“He believes you are enemies of the crown.”
Joe sighed.
“Of course he does.”
Mustaba pointed toward them.
Execution.
Guards moved closer.
Then…
Kalinda winced.
Her hand moved to her side.
Her face twisted in pain.
She tried to stand.
Failed.
And collapsed.
Chaos erupted.
“Kalinda!”
The king rushed forward.
Servants cried out.
Joe turned toward Jeni.
“Jeni!”
But she was already moving.
Kneeling beside the princess.
Focused.
Professional.
She pressed gently against Kalinda’s abdomen.
Kalinda cried out sharply.
Jeni’s face changed.
Recognition.
She looked at Aga.
“Right side. Fever? Nausea?”
He translated rapidly.
A servant nodded.
“Yes. Yes.”
Jeni looked up.
“It’s her appendix.”
Blank stares.
“It’s going to burst.”
Without hesitation, she reached to a nearby guard and pulled the knife from his belt.
She tested the edge.
“If I don’t operate…”
She looked directly at the king.
“She dies.”
The hall exploded in outrage.
Mustaba smiled.
Perfect.
Aga translated carefully.
“She says she can save her.”
The king stared at his daughter.
Then at Jeni.
“Can…”
His voice trembled.
“Or might?”
Aga answered quietly.
“If nothing is done, the princess dies.”
Silence.
A terrible silence.
King Monburjani looked down at Kalinda, pale and shaking in pain.
Then back to Jeni.
His decision took everything he had.
“Do it.”
He stepped closer.
“If she dies…”
His voice hardened.
“You die with her.”
Joe exhaled.
“No pressure.”
The guards stepped aside.
All eyes turned to Jeni.
A nurse.
Alone.
Eight hundred years from home.
Holding a medieval knife.
And one life hanging in the balance.
The narrow stone corridor echoed with hurried footsteps.
Torchlight flickered along soot-darkened walls, filling the air with smoke and heat as Joe struggled to keep pace beside Aga.
“Jeni can’t do surgery with medieval kitchen knives,” Joe said breathlessly.
Aga glanced at him. “Surgery?”
“Tools. Clean ones. Medicine. It’s all in my truck.”
Understanding flashed across Aga’s face. He was already thinking ahead.
“I hid it in a cave near the hills,” Joe continued. “I need a wagon, and a couple guys with muscles.”
“You shall have both.”
They turned sharply into the fortress courtyard.
Aga barked rapid orders in his own language.
Guards immediately sprang into action.
Within moments, a wagon was dragged into position, horses hitched in haste, soldiers mounting with practiced efficiency.
Joe watched the organized chaos with reluctant admiration.
“Wow,” he muttered. “Medieval Uber.”
Aga gestured toward the wagon.
“We must hurry.”
They climbed aboard.
A sharp crack of the whip sent the horses lunging forward, the wagon rattling over rough stone and dirt roads toward the hidden cave.
When they reached the hillside, soldiers tore away the branches Joe had used to conceal the entrance.
The FedEx truck sat exactly where they had left it.
The soldiers froze.
Joe climbed into the cab.
Aga watched nervously.
“Don’t panic.”
Joe inserted the key and turned it.
The engine roared to life.
The horses screamed in terror, rearing violently.
Soldiers stumbled backward, drawing swords.
“Whoa, whoa! It’s okay!”
Joe killed the engine.
Silence crashed down.
Everyone stood frozen, breathing hard.
Aga stared at the truck.
“It is alive.”
Joe climbed out with a crooked grin.
“Yeah. Don’t feed it after midnight.”
Aga clearly understood none of that.
They opened the cargo doors.
Boxes and crates lined the interior.
Modern labels.
Plastic packaging.
A world from another age.
Joe moved quickly, gathering everything Jeni might need, first aid kits, alcohol, gloves, antibiotics, sterile tools, gauze, all meant for the hospital in Queens!
Soldiers loaded the supplies onto the wagon.
Once finished, they carefully replaced the branches over the cave entrance.
Hidden once more.
The wagon turned back toward the fortress.
Time was running out.
Princess Kalinda’s chamber was dim and warm when they returned.
Bowls of steaming water lined the room.
Torches cast flickering shadows against the walls.
Kalinda lay pale and still atop a long wooden table.
Her breathing was shallow.
Jeni barely looked up as Joe entered.
She had transformed.
Gone was the frightened traveler.
In her place stood a nurse, focused, calm, utterly professional.
She scrubbed her hands furiously with soap and alcohol.
Joe handed her gloves, then a surgical mask.
Aga and several attendants watched, then awkwardly copied her movements.
“Watch her breathing,” Jeni told Joe. “And her pulse. Don’t look away.”
Joe nodded.
“Got it.”
She crushed pills into water and gently lifted Kalinda’s head.
“It’s all we have.”
The princess swallowed weakly.
In the shadows, King Monburjani stood silently, fear etched across his face.
Torches were brought closer.
More light.
Mustaba stood nearby as well.
Watching.
Waiting.
Hopeful, but for the wrong reasons.
Jeni laid out the improvised surgical instruments.
Scalpels.
Clamps.
Gauze.
Her hands trembled.
For just a moment.
She stopped.
Closed her eyes.
Breathed.
Steady.
Joe saw it.
“You’ve watched this done a hundred times,” he said softly. “She’s lucky it’s you.”
Jeni opened her eyes.
Nodded.
She looked at Aga.
“No one touches anything unless I say.”
Aga translated immediately.
Everyone froze.
Silence filled the room.
Jeni picked up the scalpel.
“Okay.”
She looked at Kalinda.
Then at Joe.
“Pulse and breathing. Don’t stop watching.”
“On it.”
Jeni hesitated only a second.
Then she cut.
Joe winced.
Aga turned away.
The room shrank to tiny sounds.
The clink of metal.
The drip of water.
Kalinda’s breathing.
Jeni worked with quiet precision.
Clamp.
Gauze.
More light.
Joe handed her tools before she even asked.
Learning her rhythm.
Sweat gathered on her brow.
Her hands remained steady.
She searched carefully.
Then…
“There you are.”
The swollen appendix.
Red.
Dangerously close to rupture.
Jeni exhaled.
Careful now.
Clamp.
Cut.
Out.
She dropped it into a tray.
The metallic sound made everyone flinch.
Silence.
No bleeding.
Good.
Very good.
She began to stitch.
Fast.
Precise.
Confident.
Joe never took his eyes from the small polished mirror he held beneath Kalinda’s nose.
Fog.
Fog.
Fog.
Steady breathing.
Finally…
The last stitch.
Jeni tied it.
Then stepped back.
“Done.”
No one moved.
Not yet.
Then…
Kalinda inhaled.
Slow.
Even.
Peaceful.
The entire room exhaled as one.
King Monburjani gripped Aga’s arm, overcome with relief.
Mustaba’s jaw tightened.
Joe stared at Jeni in disbelief.
“So…” he said, forcing nervous humor into the moment, “you free for house calls?”
Jeni gave him a tired smirk.
“Let’s keep her alive first.”
Attendants carefully lifted the princess back into bed.
Jeni stayed beside her.
Protective.
Focused.
Already her patient.
As the room slowly settled, the king approached.
He looked down at his daughter.
Then at Jeni.
His voice was quiet.
Reverent.
“You may have changed your fate tonight.”
Jeni glanced at Joe.
Neither of them said it aloud.
But both were thinking the same thing.
For the first time since arriving in this impossible world…
They might actually survive.
Next on TIME’S DARING DELIVERY… Princess Kalinda awakens, and remembers the strangers who saved her. King Monburjani offers Joe and Jeni a place within the fortress… but not everyone welcomes their survival. Mustaba begins plotting in the shadows.
These episodes are taken from my original screenplay work, titled ‘Time’s Daring Delivery’ © Copyright 2025 - 2026 By Paul G. Landry.