Time of the Picts: A Time Travel Romance (Hadrian's Wall Book 2)

by Jane Stain

Asking with his eyes if anything was amiss, he made his way over to her.

  She shook her head the tiniest bit to reassure him, and the two of them walked off by themselves in the direction of the sacred grove.

  The broch was nice and all, but the sacred grove was home. He would miss it. He always did.

  But right now in the moment, Mother had put a tender hand on his forearm, loving as always, and seemingly meek and mild.

  But he knew better. Automatically, his emotional guard came up. Good thing, too, because she cut straight to his heart.

  "Even if she does come back, she won't find us after we move on tomorrow. Perhaps you should move on as well. Go ahead and marry Morna this Beltane. And mind you, marriage is not something you spring on a woman at the last moment, understand? Give her time to send for her mother."

  The two of them walked on in silence awhile, Breth watching his feet form footprints and feeling such sadness that he couldn't bear it. When he spoke, it was to get his mind off yearning for someone who wasn’t here.

  "Very well. I'll speak with Morna this evening."

  There was Mother’s oh-so-gentle hand again on his forearm, ostensibly in sympathy.

  But he knew better. It was really the caress she gave him as a reward for doing her bidding. As if he were six again. Once a mother, always a mother.

  She walked off then, back toward the broch still looking at him significantly, her look that said 'You said you would, better do it now.' She didn't add the 'or else' look she had used when he was a child, but he saw it anyway in her posture.

  He sighed with reluctance.

  But she was right.

  He may as well go and ask Morna to be his bride. He needed children, and his clan would benefit from an alliance with hers. He would do it for the good of his clan.

  He knew just who he would find her with, too. She wasn't a fighter like Jaelle. Morna was more ‘the gathering type,’ she called it.

  He knew better.

  She liked to be in the company of other women so she could gossip.

  He asked around and was told the gatherers were inside the broch, packing up supplies for tomorrow's trek.

  Jaelle woke up lying down in the same spot where she had arrived last time, deep in the woods a few miles north of Hadrian's Wall and a few miles south of Breth's broch. She took off the helmet, carefully stowed it in its bag under her sword belt, and looked around, breathing deep and smiling her biggest smile.

  She made it!

  And she had her purse this time. All the comforts of home.

  She put it on her shoulder and headed toward Breth.

  Breth was waiting for the guard to open the broch's door for him when Talorac called his name, pointing up into the hills.

  Breth turned and looked and nearly fainted.

  Jaelle’s spirit was descending toward the broch.

  He shed a tear for her. But that was not the way, and he quickly quenched his sadness in favor of practicality. He would stay awake in her honor tomorrow night, as tonight was the clan meeting.

  But why did her spirit have to come all the way back here in the afterlife to pester him? He would welcome it, of course. Would let the spirit stay as long as it wanted in order to be with her in the only way he could...

  Despite a lifetime of denying himself grief for the dead, in this case he felt sorry for himself. Why did she have to come as a spirit? It would be torture for him. Pure torture. He wanted from her what a spirit couldn't give.

  And he didn't mean children.

  He stood there motionless, unable to move or even think as he watched her come down the hill.

  Even in spirit form, she moved with a fighter's grace. He couldn't help admiring her. Now accustomed to the idea of shortish hair on a woman, he gazed on the curly brown cloud around her head with affection.

  At long last she was with him, and he imagined he could smell her musky scent.

  He had it bad.

  "Spirit of my lost Jaelle, I welcome you." He took his eyes off her and lowered his head in submission, showing her she had no reason to use any of those spirit hijinks everyone so dreaded. He particularly didn’t fancy being hit from behind with things when the spirit briefly animated to throw them.

  He chuckled a little. That would be just like her. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad…

  She spoke to him in a way that at first confused him.

  "I'm not a spirit. I'm here, Breth."

  His confusion was cast aside when she grabbed him and kissed him heartily. Could it be? Doubt fled his mind quickly, and soon he was grabbing her in turn, and kissing her just as heartily.

  Ten clans were here for the chieftain meeting, so the place was crowded – and everyone cheered at the show the two of them were putting on.

  He relaxed into it.

  Until Morna came storming out of the broch. She must've heard the cheering.

  He really couldn't care less.

  But Morna asserted herself well. And if he were kissing anyone but Jaelle, he would've been impressed with the spunkiness Morna showed in the face of competition. Might have even come to love Morna a little bit.

  "Breth, you're making a huge mistake, and I can forgive you for it if you stop now. But if you carry on like this, then I am going to make your life miserable. Now–"

  He intended to address Morna's outburst himself, but Jaelle beat him to it, simply amazing him even more.

  "You won't be making his life miserable, and if you don't back down and apologize right now, I will see that you're never near him again."

  Morna's face was comically shocked, and for a moment she was speechless – something he had never seen before, and he'd known Morna all her life. She rallied, unfortunately, putting her hands on her hips and sneering at Jaelle.

  "What? How are you going to have the power to make sure I'm never near him again?"

  Jaelle put her arm around him possessively and drew herself close to him, putting her other hand on his chest like the submissive woman she definitely was not.

  He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

  She lifted her chin and spoke down her nose at Morna.

  "Power as his wife, fool."

  What?

  He opened his mouth to ask Jaelle, ‘Don’t I have a say in this?’ But when his eyes met hers, he realized he agreed completely. He wanted her as his wife. There was no question about it in his mind at all, so he just shrugged and kissed her some more.

  But Morna huffed and trudged off toward the sacred grove, where the clan chiefs' meeting was to be held this evening.

  "We'll see about that."

  Smiling at everyone, Breth grabbed his woman close to him and led her away from the crowd, who looked and sounded all too eager to share in his happiness. He wouldn't mind an audience, but she was oddly prude and shy, she had only just returned to him, and he didn't want her running off again.

  And she felt indescribably good up against him.

  But she froze.

  “Where’s Nechtan? You are aware you can't trust him, right? I mean, I know he's one of the clan's Druids and everything, but —"

  "I assure you Nechtan won't be bothering anyone anymore. And I am so sorry I didn't rid the world of him sooner, the first time he affronted you. Please say you forgive me."

  "Of course I forgive you. Yeah."

  Holding her as tight as he could while still walking, he asked her the question that was most on his mind ― now that he knew she lived.

  "Where have you been for two moon cycles?"

  She gave him a puzzled face as they walked and held each other.

  "What do you mean? I've only been gone five days."

  "Maybe for you it's been five days, but here... So much has gone on, I don't know where to start. There's a new barbarian commander at the fort, some foreign chieftain is bent on uniting all of our clans, and you got here mere seconds before I asked Morna to marry me."

  She hugged him fiercely.

  Smiling at that, he respond
ed in kind, holding as much of her body to him as he possibly could.

  The temptation to stop and make full-on love to her ― right here on the ground in front of everyone ― was so strong, the only way he resisted it was to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Only once he was successful at resisting his strongest urge did the implications of what she had said come to his mind. They troubled him.

  "I know that helmet can send you home and back again, but if five days in your time means two months in my time, then I cannot have you going back and forth."

  Surprising him, she pushed away and walked on her own, looking over her shoulder at him with hurt in her face.

  "Breth, I do want to get to know you better – in the real sense. I want to understand what makes you tick and to really be close to you. That's my idea of what being a wife is."

  Puzzled at the hurt in her eyes but delighted she felt the same way he did, he went to hold her close again.

  "Then let's marry tonight!"

  But her hurt look changed to worry, and she pulled away some more.

  "In my time, strangers get to know each other for six to twelve moon cycles first, before we marry and commit our lives to each other."

  What?

  "Jaelle, marriages are arranged here."

  Hurt changed to despair in her eyes.

  He rushed on to explain.

  "We can disagree to an arrangement. We don't have to accept it. I was going to agree to Mother's arrangement with Morna's mother for the sake of my clan. An alliance with her clan – which is a stronger one — would help us greatly."

  Her look of despair grew, and so he dropped what he was trying to explain and rushed into coaxing her back into his arms, holding them open for her.

  "Anyway, if you're going to live in our time, you'll need to live by our ways."

  Good. Her despair fled, replaced by wariness. He was accustomed to wariness. He could work through it.

  She crossed her arms, but she turned to face him. And the tiniest smile threatened to break through on her stoic face.

  "I don't remember promising to live in your time, Breth. All I said was I wanted to spend more time together to see if this will work."

  They were far enough away now that they had privacy, but ironically, now he didn't feel like taking advantage of it by laying her gently on the grass. No, now he just wanted to…

  What?

  His pride wanted him to do just as he had done the first day they met. ‘Walk away,’ it said. ‘Make her choose to follow you.’

  But his heart wasn't sure she would follow this time. It was a problem.

  He gave her his most appealing look.

  "The chieftain meeting starts soon, and as the fighting leader of my clan, I need to go along with Father and Mother, the planning leaders. I hope you'll stay until it's over so that we can talk. It will end quite late, perhaps even after dawn."

  She took a deep breath, probing the depths of his soul with her eyes, whether she knew it or not. Her look cut right to the heart of him. Tempted him to forswear his ways — even to leave with her, go back to her time with her.

  And he could admit the idea terrified him. Here, he was capable. In control. Respected. There? Who knew?

  But she drew him like no other person ever had. Her sad brown eyes drew him in and promised refuge and peace no matter where they were, so long as they were together.

  Gradually, her face softened.

  "Yes, I can stay that long. Have a good meeting and I'll see you afterward."

  Chapter 5

  Breth kissed her then. And while their earlier kisses had been desperate and needy and taking, this kiss was giving. It was gentle and soft — and loving. She savored it, drawing it out as long as she could without rekindling the passion that lay just underneath, begging to be let out.

  But no kiss could last forever.

  He drew away, regret showing in his eyes, but determination and duty more so.

  "Ask after my brother Talorac. I leave you to his care while I'm away."

  It was on the tip of Jaelle’s tongue to tell him she didn't need looking after while he was gone, that she was a grown woman and had been caring for herself these five years, thank you very much.

  But then she looked at the hundreds of strangers in the distance around the broch and realized yes, she did need a protector.

  "Are you sure I'll be all right walking back there by myself? Will I be given enough time to ask for Talorac before I'm... waylaid? None of these people know who I am."

  As soon as she'd promised to see him later, he had relaxed. And now he smiled a mischievous smile full of playfulness.

  "Aw, but they will have seen you walk up here with me. You'll be fine walking over there, but do ask for Talorac. I do not trust the other men around you unless you have part of my clan declaring you ours."

  Goosebumps rose all down Jaelle's arms. This possessiveness should have put her off, she knew. But she liked it.

  She smiled back at him, wrinkling her nose to show that she could be mischievous too.

  "I'm not going to do everything you say, you know."

  He chuckled at this even as he pulled her close once more and clung to her, rumbling his oh-so-masculine voice near her ear.

  "Oh, I can see that very well."

  She sighed in pleasure.

  "Just so we understand each other."

  He pulled away then, letting go of contact with her body one inch at a time, slowly, until the only thing touching were their hands. He squeezed hers, she squeezed back, and then they let go.

  She felt the loss immediately.

  What was encouraging was he apparently did too. He kept looking at her as he walked backward toward the sacred grove until he started to trip, gave her a self-deprecating smile, and then at last turned around.

  And ran.

  Startled that he was running, she turned and looked back toward the broch.

  And quickly jumped out of the pathway.

  Breth's parents and ten other couples their age were running straight at her, along with ten people her and Breth's age.

  Not toward her, toward the Sacred Grove.

  They all ran past her at an amazing speed and then disappeared around the bend after Breth in a cloud of dust.

  Truly at a loss as to what else she could possibly do, she headed toward the broch and inquired of the first person she saw, a woman who was probably her age, judging by the baby in a sling on her stomach, but who looked twice that because of the sun wrinkles on her face. She was holding the hand of a small child as she picked berries and put them in a basket.

  Jaelle spoke to her quickly.

  "I'm here with Breth. He says Talorac should watch after me while he's at the chieftain meeting. Where is Talorac, please?"

  The woman put her hand on her hip.

  "Aw, I don't want to leave my spot. Someone else might take it. My son can help you. Galam!"

  A boy no older than seven ran up and stopped abruptly, looking up with respect at his mother while not very surreptitiously studying Jaelle ― and apparently finding her interesting, as his eyes stayed on her longer than anyone would think polite.

  "Yes, Mother?"

  The baby started crying, and the woman swung the sling back and forth gently between the branches of the berry bush.

  "Galam, take this woman…"

  "Oh, sorry. My name's Jaelle."

  "Thank you. I'm Arela. Galam, take Jaelle to the practice field. Find Talorac and deliver her to his care, understand?"

  Galam nodded eagerly, making his head of red hair bob in the wind.

  "Yes, Mother." He looked up at Jaelle. "Where did you come from?"

  Firmly clamping her tattletale mouth shut, Jaelle looked down into the small boy's openly curious young face.

  At a loss for what to tell him, she appealed to his mother with her eyes, thinking surely this was too rude a question for a child to be asking her.

  But no such restriction existed in this time, p
lainly. Because Arela was looking at Jaelle just as curiously as Galam was.

  Jumping Jehoshaphat!

  What was she going to tell these people? Her eyes took in the vast crowd around the broch, ten times larger than Breth's clan. All of these people?

  A familiar voice cut into her nearly panicked reverie.

  "The druids sent her. She's from two thousand years in the future."

  Not knowing whether to feel relieved or alarmed, Jaelle turned to look at Breth's brother and gauge his intent.

  Talorac regarded her warily, and she couldn't blame him. Two months she’d been gone, after knowing them all just a week.

  "I hear you're looking for me."

  She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked at the younger man. He would be considered no more than a boy at home, but here he was definitely a man. About 17, he already had the full confidence of a fighter — and the muscle mass.

  She forced herself to give Arela and Galam an apologetic look.

  "Thank you anyway. It was nice to meet you."

  Arela narrowed her eyes to let Jaelle know she knew Jaelle was glad to be getting out of their conversation.

  "And you too." And then Arela gave Jaelle a pointed stare and added in a too-casual tone, "Will we see you again?"

  What a loaded question.

  Jaelle smiled her respect at Arela. The woman had chutzpah.

  "Honestly? I don't know. But I do hope so."

  Arela tipped her head to the side in acknowledgment.

  "Well, that's something then, isn't it." She gave Jaelle the tiniest smile before she got back to her berry picking, adjusting the baby's sling so it didn't strain her back so much as she bent over.

  Jaelle turned back to Talorac.

  He gestured toward the broch.

  "Let's get you to safety."

  She gave him the briefest nod and started walking, relieved when he fell in beside her, even though she barely knew him.

  "I suppose you know Breth wants you to look after me while he's in the meeting."

  "Aye, and it's a bit inconvenient. I don't suppose you'll be in much danger inside the broch, though. I could go on about my business then, after leaving word I should be notified if anything happens." He looked at her defiantly.