by Jane Stain
"I’m the clan chieftain’s brother, and not just any clan chieftain, but the leader over ten clans. I'm told things in confidence all the time. I know how to keep a secret."
She gave him her sternest look, which she knew from being told constantly was not very stern at all due to her being a small blonde woman with an ‘adorable’ face.
"Are you able to keep a secret even from your brother?"
This took him by surprise. His breath caught, and his eyes looked fearful for a moment. Good, he wasn't such a fool after all.
Wait, what was she thinking? She needed him to be a fool. A trusting fool she could use and then throw away. The last thing she wanted was to become emotionally attached to him and get stuck in her first time travel, right?
She poured on more of her stern look for good measure.
"Yes. You cannot tell even Breth. If that changes things, I understand. Just tell me now. Because once I reveal what we’re going to do, it will be too late and I will have to exact your promise — by ritual, if necessary.”
She shouldn't have used that extra stern look. As usual, it backfired.
He chuckled a little, and then he was mocking her with fake shudders and his grown man self inching away from her as they walked, looking at her sideways in mock fear.
"Reinforcement by ritual! You wouldn't. You’re not that crass. You wouldn’t really do that to me, would you?"
This sort of thing used to make her furious when she was small, when she actually was powerless. But now that she had Galdus, people’s lack of fear only amused her and she was able to take it in good humor. Funny how having actual power had changed her perspective on things.
"Yes, I would. Like that." She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes.
He smiled at her in a way that let her know he didn't really believe her but was humoring her.
She left it at that. He was better off not knowing.
They were getting close enough to the broch that other people were around, gathering and herding.
Now that there was a danger of other people overhearing them, she changed the subject.
“At least the weather is nice, but I want to put my leine on anyway."
Chapter 7
He had to hold his sides to keep from chuckling. This Deirdre was so funny, so full of herself, that he was having a good time even against his wishes. He managed not to make any snide remarks about the white dress that she’d pulled out of her pack and put on to mark herself as a druid rather than a warrior. Its huge bell sleeves marked her as a Gael more than anything.
Gant and Lesa greeted them, and then Edarnan and his gang of hunters, going out for deer from the look of the antler hats they had tucked into their belts. Many others greeted them before they finally got to the broch, which was being guarded by Gartnait today.
Tal and Gartnait shared a mischievous grin as they always did when they met, having snuck off when they were young boys to climb trees and spy on their elders. Up to now, he hadn't introduced Deirdre to anyone. The people didn't ask about druid business unless the matter was introduced to them. But come on, this was Gartnait. He would only have to fib a little.
"Deirdre, I want you to meet Gartnait, a childhood friend of mine. Gartnait, this is Deirdre. Deoord, Boann, and Ia have sent her with me as a … translator. I am meant to go speak with the Gaels about an alliance for raiding the barbarians to the south."
But Gartnait’s appraisal of Deirdre made Talorac uneasy. He was showing a little too much interest in Deirdre. His old friend’s eyes grew wide, and he smiled at her as if he had sent out a whole ship of treasure raiders and it was now coming in.
"Welcome to Broch Eleven, gentle Deirdre. I hope you will be staying with us even after Tal here decides to move on. There's plenty of room. I can give you a place to rest."
Tal prepared to pull his former friend away from the young druid. Couldn't Gartnait see that Tal was with her? He was the one who had brought her. She would obviously be staying with Tal.
But Deirdre took care of herself, merely raising an eyebrow and tilting her head to the side in an adorable but also arresting manner.
"I will stay in the sacred grove with the other druids, of course."
At this, Tal felt his heart falling into his stomach. He had thought…
But then Deirdre went on, and his spirits lifted again.
"And Tal will stay with us. Please have someone show us the way to the grove."
Tal’s former friend was whistling for someone when Tal cut in.
"No need. I know the way, Deirdre. This isn’t his broch, you know. All the brochs belong to all the people. We rotate usually. It’s only been the last few months that Breth’s ten clans haven’t rotated away from Broch One."
Tal found himself staring his friend down to show that Deirdre was taken.
Gartnait stared back a moment, and then abashedly lowered his eyes.
The tense feeling in the air was almost palpable as Tal took Deirdre’s hand and turned to lead her to the sacred grove, and in the back of his mind, he wondered at this. Wasn't Deirdre someone he had just met? Why was he antagonizing a friend over a perfect stranger?
Something else inside him asserted, "because you’ve been set to protect her, that's why. The two of you are traveling allies, so your first duty is to her."
He argued with it. "My first duty is to all the people, and druid or not, she is a stranger from another time. My trust should be with my old friend."
He didn't have time to continue the argument though, because his old friend stiffly dismissed them.
"Of course. Go on and show her the way, Talorac. I’ll tell them inside that you’re here."
Oh well.
Tal walked Deirdre back down the hill and around to this broch’s sacred grove. The brochs had all been built near sacred groves, which were more central to the people’s way of life than the brochs were. However, in order to protect the groves, they only referred to the brochs. It had worked well so far.
Everyone greeted Tal, and now he introduced Deirdre as well each time, feeling solicitous of her as his companion, having won that privilege against his old friend.
"And this is Deirdre, my traveling companion, who was sent to us from the future. She’s going to help us gain the trust of the Gaels so that they will raid with us against the barbarians to the south. She dresses and speaks like a Gael, but she is also one of us. She says that in the future, the People intermarry with the Gaels. Can you believe that?"
At one point, Deirdre even turned to the gathered crowd in the grove and gave a small speech.
"The blood of your people mingles in the future not only with the Gaels but also with those across the North Sea from you. The Gaelic and Pictish blood is the strongest."
This brought many puzzled looks among the craftspeople, gatherers, and herders who were taking breaks in the grove.
"Pictish?"
Deirdre looked down and then up in an exaggerated way.
"My apologies. Pict is the Roman name for your people, the Romans being the barbarians to the south, the ones whom you wish to raid. Their records are the only surviving records that we know how to read in the future. We’ve lost the ability to read the Pictish carvings."
There were many concerned looks and expressions and gestures over this, but Tal did his best to allay their fears.
"Jaelle is seeing what she can do about the Pictish language being lost. She's very clever. I feel confident that she'll be able to do something."
At last, Gartnait’s clan’s druids came and greeted them. Aalish was pregnant and rubbing her huge belly. Her husband Mailcon stood back a bit from her, looking proud.
"Welcome," said Aalish, looking first at Deirdre and then at Tal. "Will you be staying, or are you merely passing through?"
Tal opened his mouth to answer, but Deirdre spoke up before he could.
"We will stay a few days, and then we must move on. I need to speak with you in private. Tal can come along, as what I need
to say concerns him."
Aalish nodded and held out her hand for Mailcon, who took it.
"Very well, let us go."
As Tal had known they would, Aalish and Mailcon took him and Deirdre to their private bower at the far end of the sacred grove of trees. Everyone knew the druids slept in bowers, but few ever saw one.
He breathed in and out slowly, marveling at the living roof and walls.
This was their third child Aalish expected, but there were no children in their dwelling. No, all the children ran together in packs by age, as was most convenient for the clan. The gatherers watched over them mostly, and the herders, training them up in those ways so that all of the clan knew how to care for the plants and animals of the land. The most aggressive children were taken aside and made warriors once they had passed eight winters.
Once the four of them were settled with something to eat and pallets had been made up for Tal and Deirdre on the side opposite the fire from Mailcon and Aalish's bed, Aalish once again gave Dierdre her inquisitive look — smiling, patient, and regal.
The older druidess was confident.
The younger druidess bowed her head ever so slightly to Aalish.
"I have sworn Tal to secrecy, and he understands what will happen if I don't trust him in this matter."
Surrounded by druids, Tal suddenly felt very alone as they all stared at him very seriously. On Deirdre the stare looked cute and dismissible, but the older two druids looked quite formidable, especially Mailcon.
Aalish now faced him with her most serious face on. It looked maternal in a way, but not as if he were a child. Rather it looked like she was the mother of all, looking down at him as but one petulant child whom she was ready to correct if need be. She seemed to have all the power of earth itself at her command.
"Can we trust you, Talorac brother of Breth?"
What sort of secret were they going to tell him?
"So long as you do have the best interests of the people in mind, yes, you can trust me."
Deirdre surprised him with a look of approval.
"Well said. Tal, you were chosen as my companion because of your skill at the forge. Tonight when everyone else is asleep, I want Aalish and Mailcon to fire up the forge of this broch in secret so that you can forge tools in secret."
He let his puzzlement show.
"What sort of tools?"
Smiling at him in a way that made him want to please her, she opened a pouch that dangled from her belt and brought out three wax molds, handing them to him.
"I think these will help. I took these molds during my time, but I doubt the rock-on-rock doorway has changed much. Can you make keys?"
He examined them. The keys would be in the shapes of brooches. The knotted decorative pins would be in the shape of brooches. It was a brilliant way to disguise the keys, and he gazed at them in wondrous admiration.
"Aye, I think I can. I hope it will be no great trouble if they don't work, howsoever. They seem very exacting compared to normal locks, and even one small error would detract from their function, I believe."
Mailcon examined the molds as well.
"Aye, just the smallest error would prevent these from functioning. Deirdre has chosen her traveling companion well. Very few have the skill it would take."
Tal felt his chest rise with pride as he sat there next to Deirdre on their mats facing Mailcon and Aalish across the blazing fire in the darkness.
After a pleasant afternoon making small talk and getting caught up on the doings of the clan, they all took a nap so as to be up with the moon.
At first, Tal found it difficult to fall asleep next to the beautiful Deirdre, her blonde hair spread out on the cot right in front of his face and her derrière inches in front of his very aware member. But then drowsiness came over him from nowhere and he slept so soundly that he startled when he was woken amid the moonbeams shining through the leaves of the druids’ bower.
They had a quick breakfast, and then headed not toward an outbuilding of the broch where Talorac's friend had guarded earlier in the day but toward the large community fire pit here in the sacred grove.
There amid the rocks was a forge of sorts. Two other druids were tending it, and it was already hot.
It wasn't one of the better forges the people had, but it would serve, he supposed. Only how were they going to make tools out here in secret?
Mailcon seemed to read Tal's mind, for he smiled at him in a knowing way just before raising his arms and starting to chant. Aalish and Deirdre both joined in on the chant, with arms raised and white robes flowing beneath them, slowly turning in circles as they also circled around the forge. Once they got all the way around, they all dropped their arms.
Mailcon smiled at him again.
"Now, no sound nor smell nor sight will escape the circle until we disperse the spell."
Chapter 8
Deirdre tried to hide her excitement in front of the two older druids, but she knew she wasn't doing a very good job. This was her first time participating in a real ritual with actual consequences. Up to now, everything she did had been a training exercise. This was the real thing. Oh, she’d had an excellent trainer, no doubt about that, but she still felt very self-conscious as she made her way through all the movements of the ritual that would protect them from prying eyes and ears and noses while Talorac forged the keys.
And he'd better be able to do it, too. What a lot of trouble it had been, going first to his brother’s ten-clan settlement to pick up the rascal before coming out here.
While Deirdre helped the others stoke the forge fire, they made small talk again. This was tiring, as her mind was dwelling on higher and more important things.
Mailcon gave her a cautious look before he spoke, clearly unsure how much she wanted Talorac to know about what lay ahead.
"And so the two of you are headed west to the territory claimed by the Gaels?"
She nodded.
"Aye, in fact, we’re headed for their main stronghold, which happens to lie underneath the site of the very castle town where I grew up, 1300 years from now."
Mailcon raised his eyebrows in appreciation.
"Ah, then you know the area well."
She allowed one chuckle to escape her lips, more of a scoff, really.
"Ha. You could say that. I know it all the better because Kelsey, a druidess from the future, left her friend Sasha from the future to be my foster mother. Even better, Kelsey dug up the old fortification of the Gaels in her time, 2000 years from now. She went into all the secret rooms except for one – the very room whose keys we now are making. So yes, I know just about everything there is to know about this fortification of the Gaels. Except what’s in that last room."
Talorac was busy at the forge, but he smiled at this, looking up at her for brief moments between studying the brooch/key he was making.
"Why all the secrecy?” he asked her. “Why didn't you just tell Breth you wanted a smith? No doubt he's wondering even now why you picked me."
With her hand on her rotund and fertile belly, Aalish spoke up, sparing Deirdre the trouble.
"Now Tal, you know the ways of the druid are mysterious. And that is of necessity. We all have our specialties of knowledge, that is the way it needs to be. Leave off questioning her about druidic things. I tell you this for the good of all, and rest assured it is for your own good as well."
Talorac did quit questioning her then, instead concentrating on making the three knotted brooch keys.
But Galdus let her hear his thoughts.
“She is the first druid I have ever seen woaded for battle. How come her magic doesn’t protect her all on its own without need for the woad, as Ia’s magic does during the rare times she joins us in battle?"
How come, indeed. Talorac was way too smart for comfort. How long would it take before he figured out that she wasn’t a druid at all?
Galdus spoke up then.
"Face it, if ye didna hae me, ye wouldna be nearly the warrior ye ar
e, either. But that can be oor little secret."
Deirdre couldn't help it. She laughed out loud startling everyone, especially Talorac, who furled his brows at her in resentment.
Deirdre shrugged and made a gesture that told them it was nothing, just something silly she'd remembered. But inside her mind, she answered Galdus.
"It's hardly a secret from the other druids."
Galdus urged her body to turn and face Talorac, and she did.
"It can remain a secret from him, and I think 'tis best that it does. He would try tae take me if he knew, in order tae keep ye here in his time with him."
Deirdre studied the handsome young smith. Would he? She didn't want to believe that. She wanted to trust the gentle man the same way she trusted Galdus: with everything. But she knew that wasn't wise.
Chapter 9
Tal took his time smithing the three brooches. It was no small task. First, he had to create the long wires that would be tied into knots, and then he had to tie those knots in a way that matched Deirdre’s wax impressions of the stone locks. Everything had to be precise.
So is it any wonder it took him three or four tries on each one? The druids provided the iron and a bucket of water to throw his failures into, but who could blame him for keeping one each of the unsuccessful versions? After all, his work and effort had gone into it, so he deserved to keep the scrap metal as payment, right?
The druids were in deep conversation while he worked, thinking he wouldn't pay much attention, he guessed, but talking nonetheless about things that mattered to them.
"You grew up above the Gael stronghold?" Mailcon asked.
"Aye,” Deirdre said, “and we all speak Gaelic in my time. Although we are all mixed between the two peoples, we have become one. It's a shame that your language has been lost. I hope to remember some of it when I return to my time. That would make me popular among the nobles."