by Jane Stain
"I discovered one myself when I was quite young, and it led directly to me following the natural way and summoning the natural power. I thank the rocks and trees every day for its discovery. But I hear gatherers nearby and I sense many souls. This sacred grove is near a human settlement, and that's something I hadn't thought possible until this moment."
She continued to stare at the ancient trees, even bending down to caress their roots lovingly. Her foster parents Sasha and Seumas hadn't been bad company at all, far from it, but Deirdre did want to enjoy this time on her own before she was subject to a husband’s whims.
Anyway, Alasdair would scarce allow her to get married and settle down before she had done enough errands to repay him for his training, and she would not even entertain the idea of passing her servitude along to her children the way Sasha's friend Tavish’s ancestor had done. No. It had been hard enough to convince Alasdair to train her as it was.
Just seven years old in the year 1388, Deirdre had stumbled upon many interesting ruins in her travels with Seumas and Sasha: burial crypts, rings of standing stones, castles that had been ruined long before — it was amazing just how sophisticated castles had been before the 14th century. Sasha was from the 21st-century, and she’d said much the same thing all the time, but Deirdre hadn't really paid attention. Not until she saw this for herself. Many of these old ruins had systems for storing water and pumping it up into the castle, cisterns they were called. Even some of the old brochs had been built upon springs that brought fresh water up out of their floors. The brochs all held strategic locations, defending the shores from invaders, the surrounding fields from attack, or harboring refugees against siege.
Anyway, it was a lie that she stumbled upon anything.
Laird Malcomb had seen for himself the trouble a druid could cause, and so he had sent his nephew Seumas on a journey to warn all the surrounding castles. Sasha his wife went with him, and Deirdre their fosterling, and later their own five children. They wintered with their hosts.
In each castle where they stayed, Galdus told Deirdre where to go in the middle of the night after everyone was asleep. And tonight was no different.
Sasha tucked her into her bed up in the castle where they were staying this season.
"Dinna fash so. Go straight tae sleep, for tomorrow is a big day."
Deirdre nodded as Sasha kissed her forehead.
"I ken that it is, Sasha. I wull try tae go tae sleep right away. Have a good night."
And she did try to go to sleep. She had no fear of oversleeping, because Galdus would wake her up like he always did, ever since she found him in that cairn when she followed Seumas and Sasha to the ring of stones when she was six.
Maybe she did sleep a few hours, but then his voice came into her mind.
"Arise, my beautiful chariot. Arise and take me where I wish to go, and I will grant you wishes."
In the blue darkness of the starlight seeping through the cracks in the castle walls, they ventured down into the dungeons. She was never afraid when she went adventuring with Galdus. He was the true replacement for her lost father — sorry Seumas. Galdus watched out for her. He warned her when someone was coming. He always knew.
There was no one coming on this winter night. She had the sense to grab her cloak before he dragged her off this time, and she pulled it more closely around her shoulders, crossing her arms to keep the heat in over her thin linen night shift. Galdus hadn't given her the chance to put her shoes on, as usual, and so her cold feet ached on the stone steps.
They always went deep into the bowels of every castle they stayed in, Galdus hiding her from the prisoners in the dungeons and showing her hidden passageways into secret rooms wrought by the ancient druids.
Loving his company, she was all too eager to do his bidding. At seven years old, she'd already been venturing with him for a year now and felt she knew most of his quirks. He was her best friend, and she never wanted to be without him.
Dumbstruck in the sacred grove from gazing at the strange beautiful druid in Gaelic clothing, Tal watched her pat the ancient runescarred dagger she wore on her belt as if to verify it were still there. How odd. Why would it not be there? Oh, in a battle it might be taken from her, but she was far from battle.
This dungeon was different from all the others she'd seen so far, however, for she knew one of the guards down here.
“Da!” she cried out, running into the arms of the man she had lost long ago.
Da held her close and hugged her.
And then she heard Da talking to Galdus. How?
Oh, he was holding her in such a way that his hand fell on Galdus’s hilt. Odd. Oh well. It was done.
Galdus was saying, "Och, she is a magnificent lass, na doubt about it."
Da was saying, "Aye, she wull be most appropriate for our needs. Ye hae done well, Galdus. Shall I release ye from yer service?"
"Nay," Galdus said quite urgently, "I wish tae stay with her and help her yet more. I hae become quite attached tae the young thing and hope tae see her rise tae glory in the years tae come."
Da chuckled, not only in their mental communication, but also out loud.
"Even better. If she's that engaging, she shall be even better suited for our purposes. Verra well, ye may stay with her. Nay doubt she will greatly benefit from yer help."
Anxiety took Deirdre over.
"Ye wull leave me, Galdus?"
Quite unusually for him, his answer was slow in coming.
"There was a time when I might hae,” he said slowly, and then in a quick rush he gushed, “Howsoever, that will na longer happen."
Deirdre hugged Galdus to her. "Well, that's good tae know.” And then she looked up at Da. “How are ye na dead?"
And then fear crept into Deirdre's mind for the first time since she’d become attached to Galdus, for this man who she thought was her Da now changed appearance.
"I'm na yer Da. Putting on this face was just the easiest way I could think o tae meet ye and na alarm ye. Allow me tae introduce myself. My name is Alasdair. Galdus is an old friend o mine."
"Aye," said Galdus contrarily. "Begging yer pardon, Deirdre, for na telling ye this was na yer Da. Howsoever, my association with Alasdair is longer standing than my association with ye."
He had utterly fooled her. She had hugged him, a stranger. Her fear was so intense that Deirdre looked around for monsters to come out of the shadows and eat her up. But that didn't happen. All was yet calm in the dungeon of this old castle, built a thousand years before even her Da had been born in the 14th century.
She looked Alasdair over. He was an old, old man, even older than Seumas's uncle Malcomb.
Ironically, Sasha had warned Malcomb about the uprising of some 14th-century druids who were a danger to their lordships. Deirdre smiled a little at that. Seumas and Sasha were wise in the ways of the ordinary world, but they didn't understand druids at all.
Deirdre was on the druids’ side, because Galdus was the best friend ever, and he was an ancient druid, albeit trapped inside a dagger and needing the help of a live person to do anything. She reigned in her fear and changed it to admiration.
“That was amazing, the way ye disguised yerself as Da. Wull ye show me how tae do that?"
Alasdair chuckled just a little at her expense.
"Perhaps in the years tae come, lass. Howsoever, ye hae many loyalty tests tae do between now and the time that I trust ye with such great power."
She put on her best pouty face, trying her hardest not to make it look angry, for she knew that unlike Seumas, Alasdair would not find her childlike anger amusing. She knew instinctively.
"Aw, but ye say ye be old friends with Galdus, and ye know that Galdus trusts me, and therefore ye should trust me as well, ye ken?"
This time, Alasdair threw back his head and laughed heartily.
"Ye are gaun'ae be formidable one day, young Deirdre, mark my words. Nay, I dinna trust ye yet. Yer foremaist loyalty test will be tae get the laird o this castl
e tae let ye intae the locked cages at the bottom o this dungeon sae that ye can play doon there. Dae ye think ye can dae that?"
Deirdre stood up straight with her chin up.
“O course I can. Just ye watch me. I shall hae it done by the end o the day tomorrow."
Chapter 4
Back in the sacred grove in the first century A.D. — which time Deirdre could scarcely believe she now occupied, it being her very first time-travel mission — she spoke to the druids in sotto-voice Pictish, thankful that Alasdair’s time travel spell had included this language that he said had been lost to everyone but the druids.
"Why do you burden me with this fool? You know I don’t need him. I can be quieter by myself. I can be faster by myself. And I even dare say if it comes down to a fight, I can fight better by myself."
Boann put her hands on her hips and looked down her nose at Deirdre, then point blank at Galdus.
“Oh, but you wouldn’t be alone at all, now would you? It isn’t you who can fight so well or be so fast or quiet at all. It isn’t you who are the druid. The people may not be able to tell, but we can, and don’t you forget it. We don’t know you. We don’t trust you. We have known Talorac all of his eighteen years, and him we do trust. He is along to keep you honest. To make certain you carry forth the best interests of all our clans and don’t go over to the Gaelic side. You’re dressed in the Gaelic fashion, even if it is much advanced in time from what the current Gaels wear. It certainly is not the clothing of our people."
Deirdre suppressed a giggle. This fool was going to keep her honest?! No matter, she would lose him at her first opportunity on the way there, do what she needed to do, then find him again on the way back. Without breaking a sweat.
Of course, she didn't tell Boann that.
"Very well," she told the older druid woman with a heavy sigh. "I'll take him along with me and let him keep me honest as to the benefits of this clan you serve. Bring me the smith I requested so I can get going."
Boann raised her eyebrows.
“Tal IS the smith you requested.”
Tal was shaken out of his examination of the beautiful stranger when Deoord spoke to him.
“This is Deirdre, and as soon as you are ready, she will perform the woad ritual on you for your protection during the journey."
How odd. Despite a lifetime of doing what druids said and submitting to their ministrations unquestioningly, a million objections came to Tal's mind at the idea of Deirdre woading him.
She was a stranger! He didn't want to be naked in front of her, not as a warrior standing before a druid. Oh, he wanted other things, but not that.
But she was a druid, and so stripping his clothes off, he very casually walked over into the center of the grove where the four druids stood, holding himself erect in the warrior's stance, ready, on guard, able.
"I'm ready now."
Deirdre dipped her hand into a pot of goose grease colored indigo blue with the dried leaves of the woad plant while she chanted an incantation that placed protection in the paint, then made a move as if to put the woad on him, and he felt his flesh quiver in delight at the anticipation of her touch.
But Ia stayed Deirdre's hand and did the honors that she often had before, among other things. Of late, Tal had needed to go along on all of Breth’s skirmishes and had needed much woading.
As Ia enchanted the woad with protective properties, Tal spoke his reservations about the journey.
“If a warrior is what you need to send with her, then shouldn't you send Lossio or Ungust? They could certainly do a better job protecting her."
He felt awkward, being so attracted to Deirdre in front of Ia, and knowing Deirdre was here today, gone tomorrow, he was trying to keep his options open with Ia.
Besides, he’d seen the way Deirdre looked at him. If she considered him incompetent, then why did she want him along?
But Deirdre didn't take the hint. Holding her quarterstaff at the ready and putting her chin up in the epitome of a warrior stance, she defied what he said.
"I would do better by myself. I suspect the only reason you're coming along is to keep an eye on me."
Deoord set his chin in a way that demanded everyone's attention, him being the senior druid present.
“Enough of this posturing. We need to send you off now. You may not be the best of friends, but find a way to get along. You'll be happier for it."
With an oddly amused gleam in his eye, the older druid stared them both down until they had no choice but to grudgingly look at each other and nod.
"Good. Deirdre, now it's your turn. Allow me to woad you."
Tal had seen half the women in the ten clans having the woad applied to them. Seeing Deirdre naked and being painted with the woad and goose grease designs shouldn't have roused Tal’s interest at all.
But it did.
He couldn't help staring at her breasts as they were decorated with the whorls of smoke that came off the fire that was depicted on her belly. Couldn't help staring at her groin as it was festooned with a pair of falcons fighting over worms in the wood that burned up in the fire.
When she turned around and had her backside painted, he caught himself drooling as her firm and curvy bottom was painted in the likeness of a wolf's head.
Quit looking, you fool. Good thing we’ll need the protection of the woad. Being on guard for danger should keep you from touching her. And getting burned.
But no matter what he told himself about it being in his best interest not to notice Deirdre as a woman, he nonetheless was doing just that. What a fix he was in.
Under the pretense of needing to relieve himself in one way, he went off into the bushes and relieved himself quite another way, desperate not to be caught yearning for her as he did. At least in his baggy breeks he could have adjusted things so as not to be so obvious.
"You know what?" Tal said to no one in particular when he made his way back to the four druids. "I'm going to go ahead and wear my breeks on the journey. I know it's not normal and not needed, but… Well, I'm going to anyway. It’s just my preference."
No one said anything, but he could've sworn he saw the corners of a few mouths smile before they schooled their expressions.
For once, he was not looking at Deirdre. He didn't want to know if she was smiling or not. No, he didn't want to know anything about her at all. The sooner this time with her was over and they went their separate ways, the better. For all involved. How was he going to manage under these awful conditions?
Tal fumed as he headed back to the bonfire to say goodbye to his brother and Jaelle. Obeying this particular druid chafed his hide for some reason, so on top of his discomfort at being aroused against his will, he felt guilty for wanting to disobey someone in authority.
"This way," she said, slinging her pack over her shoulder and trying to steer him west.
To his horror, Tal felt humiliation at being led by a strange girl no older than him. He had no inclination at all to follow Deirdre’s lead, as he would have with any other druid, both those of his own clan and those of the other clans.
Watch yourself, Tal.
Biting off the rude comment that came to his tongue and would have gotten him in trouble, Tal instead groveled a bit as would be expected of anyone gainsaying a druid. And he hated every moment with astonishing passion. What was wrong with him?
"Sorry, may I first say farewell to my brother?"
Deirdre didn't quite roll her eyes, but she did smirk at him and raise an ironic eyebrow.
"Fine, let's go say farewell to your brother, but then we’re leaving. No more dilly dallying about. As you know, our woad protection will only last two days."
Tal made his way to where his brother stood next to his wife's chair. Heavy with child, Jaelle sat a lot these days, and just a tiny bit of Tal’s mind wondered how she was liking that, being a warrior herself. She was from the future and knew many surprising sword moves, and until a few months ago she had been up on her feet teaching all the warr
iors these moves and supervising their practice in the lists. Did she miss it?
But now wasn't the time to speak of such things. No, now was the time to beg Breth to let him out of this mission the druids were sending him on.
Tal spoke softly into his brother’s ear while someone else was addressing the crowd.
"The druids are sending me to the Gaels with Deirdre here. It's a scouting mission, and they say that although she could do it all by herself, they’re sending me along to protect clan interests. I really don't think I need to go. She seems competent enough. Let’s just let her handle it."
Was that a smile Breth was suppressing? No, it was an itch. He was just scratching the corner of his mouth now.
"What's the matter, Tal? Is she more than you can handle?"
So it had been a smile.
"I don't want to handle her—"
The girl in question guffawed, then listened intently as Breth droned on about the need to join forces with the Gaels against the Roman barbarians and their wall. Several times she seemed on the verge of breaking in with her own suggestions, meddling twit that she…
Tal’s breath caught in his throat at the blasphemous thought. What in the world had come over him? Deirdre was a druid, and it was her job to moderate these discussions.
Maybe it was because she was just so gorgeous, it was hard to remember she was a druid?
Why couldn’t she just be a normal girl? A gatherer — no, Morna was the lead gatherer now that Breth had shunned her for Jaelle, and if Deirdre fell under Morna's influence? He shied away from just how unpleasant that would be, yet shuddered anyway.
Why couldn't Deirdre be a weaver or a net maker or a seamstress, any sort of craftswoman rather than a druid?
Breth was still speaking, and something he said brought Tal back to the moment.
"Oh, I can tell by the way you look at her that you do indeed wish to handle her."
Tal took several deep breaths and held the last one until he was calm. It wouldn't do for him to get in a fight with Breth.
