Time of the Druids: A Time Travel Romance (Hadrian's Wall Book 3) Read online

  She appeared to be about to retort to that, but Tal didn't think it was a good idea to tell the guard too much, so he squeezed her shoulder and nodded his head down the stairs.

  She looked at him crossly.

  She still didn't get it.

  "No, I dinna mean the cold, I mean—"

  He hugged her to him so that her mouth was covered by his arm for a moment.

  "She means being doon here with the regular folk and na off on their own in the place set aside just for them," said Tal by way of explanation and talking over her, so that the guard wouldn't be clued in that her powers were reduced underground.

  The guard didn't need to know that, and she was a fool not to realize that fact. Why had he been intimidated by her? She was altogether too full of herself. Plainly, she didn't understand the role of discretion when dealing with a potential ally who was still an enemy. It felt good, realizing that she didn't know everything, that there were areas where he surpassed her.

  And he had to admit, he wouldn't have known nearly so much about those areas if he hadn't needed to shadow Breth for the last seven months. He supposed he should be grateful for that education.

  "Ye ken," said the guard to Deirdre, "that yer fellow druids wull want some time alone with ye, dae ye not? Ye hae come a long distance, and ye hae taught this Pict how tae speak. I think they wull be verra interested in hearing how ye hae done all these things, o yer adventures and accomplishments. And I dae think perhaps they would like tae hear this with nary him present, knowing the way o druids and all. Is this na sae?"

  Deirdre slackened her hold on Tal’s waist at this and moved away from him as they walked down the stone stairs. Was she falling for the guard’s flattery?

  Apparently, she was.

  "Aye, ye hae the right o it. They wull want tae speak tae me alone. Go on and speak tae the leadership while I go speak tae the druids."

  Tal grabbed Deirdre by the waist and pulled her close to him again so that he could whisper in her ear in Pictish.

  "Why is he trying so hard to separate us? It could be a trap."

  Deirdre was falling for it though. Ever so loudly and with a casual air in her voice, she pushed Tal aside and spoke to the guard.

  "Pish. Please take me tae the druids and take Talorac tae see yer leadership. Ye hae the right o it. His business is with them, and my business is with the druids."

  Ever so conveniently, two more guards happened along just then, and the guard they were with passed Deirdre off to them.

  "This druid would like tae confer with the other druids. Would ye be sae kind as tae show her ower tae them and give them some privacy?"

  The two new guards stared at Deirdre in amazement at first, but they quickly hid that emotion and put on masks of false geniality.

  This was horribly wrong! Before they could speak, Tal broke in again, now desperate to keep Deirdre with him, convinced this was some sort of trap.

  "That is the nonsense. It is both o oor mission tae go speak tae the leadership o the Gaels regarding a peace between oor peoples sae that we can all raid the Romans together and put an end tae their abomination o a wall. Deirdre, I dae insist that ye come with me tae go see the Gaelic clan leadership." Tal punctuated this proclamation with yet another grab toward Deirdre's waist.

  But she pulled away from him and went to the other guards insistently.

  "Remember yer place, Talorac. Ye are the follower, and as the leader, I give the orders here. Now go tae the leadership like a good lad and leave me tae my druidic business."

  The guards’ reaction to this raised the hair on Tal’s arms. Instead of laughing at what might've been an idle threat, the two new ones looked at him in concern for his safety before they moved to either side of Deirdre, making it impossible for Tal to rescue her. Against the one first guard alone, he gave himself and Deirdre a fair shot, but the two of them against three guards on their home territory? No.

  He cast a mournful look over at Deirdre as the other guard came and stood by his side, looking at him sympathetically but keeping a hand on his weapon. Tal had to give it one more try. He turned and called out to Deirdre as the two guards escorted her away.

  "I wull hae trouble getting home with nary ye. Dinna abandon me here."

  It didn't work. She didn't get it. No, she just scoffed.

  "I wull consult with the druids betimes and then come see if ye need help. Dinna fash. I'm na abandoning ye. I dae hae business with them. I spoke at length with Mailcon and Aalish after ye went tae bed, after all, and that didna fash ye sae much. Go on and dae yer duty, and I wull dae mine."

  And with that she turned and allowed the two guards to surround her and escort her down to what was surely an underground containment area for the druids, Tal just knew it. And underground, Deirdre’s natural powers would slowly seep away until she was helpless.

  "How are ye called?" Tal asked the guard who had stayed with him, racking his brain for a plan of action.

  "Angus. The lairds are all going about their own business this day, sae it will be a while afore we’re able tae gather them together tae speak with ye. For the time being, I wull take ye tae a room where ye can … wash up." He cast his eyes over all the woad on Tal’s body.

  How had he and Deirdre ever expected to blend in as Gaels with the woad on them? They should've washed it off at the last stream. But no, then he would be even more helpless right now. Even though there were only a few hours left on the woad, Tal felt infinitely better with its protection than he would have without. He knew that for a fact.

  How was he going to get Deirdre out of this mess? Soon, that was how he needed to do it. Before a day had gone by and all of Deirdre's power had faded away. He knew that with certainty, and it helped him decide what to say to the man.

  "I dinna want tae bide here overnight but rather get back tae my own lands as soon as possible, sae can ye show me tae where even one o the lairds is right now? Perhaps if i just speak tae one, he can then bring my case afore the others. I dinna hae tae make the entire treaty, just get the message across sae that future negotiations wull go better. Aye, please take me tae just one o yer leaders and I will make my case afore him. I like that idea."

  Angus looked dubious.

  "I am sure yer negotiations would go better if ye were na wearing all that blue stuff. ‘Tis fearsome, ye ken."

  Encouraged by the fact that he hadn't been outright forbidden to go speak to one of the lairds, Tal pushed his case.

  "A wee bit o fear is a healthy thing. I am all alone, and for the time being, we are enemies. I like my chances better with the woad on, thank ye verra much."

  Angus thought about this for a moment.

  Sensing he had to really push for this odd request, Tal kept insisting.

  "There isn't any risk tae ye. Nay, if anyone is tae catch ire for this, it will be me. Ye will just be rid o me sooner and able tae attend yer usual duties."

  At this, Angus chuckled a bit.

  "I daresay ye hae the right o it. Verra wull. Laird Feargus is overseeing the lists right now. In but a short time they will be finished, sae let us go."

  He changed direction, taking a fork in the honeycomb of underground stone passageways lit by torches and smelling of dampness. Ahead around a bend, wooden practice swords clashed and men called out in victory or defeat.

  When they got there, Tal saw that Gaelic sword practice wasn’t much different from the People's — not if you discounted the fact that the Gaels practiced underground. Tal smiled in absolute contentment though. He knew every move the Gaels were making and didn’t need to fear nor report any new ones. Jaelle’s lessons from future knowledge of the art of sword fighting had proven more useful than a fortune in silver would have, that was certain

  "Hail, Angus! Who's this?” asked one of the Gaelic men, who all wore the same billowy sleeved dresses. And then he looked at Tal. "Fancy a try with me? I promise tae go easy on ye, and we’re only using practice swords, sae ye canna get overly hurt."

 
; Angus smiled painfully and shook his head no at the newcomer.

  "Nay, Donnell. Talorac is here tae speak tae laird about an alliance against the roman invaders. He doesna want tae—"

  But Tal stepped right up to Donnel and held out his sword arm.

  "Och, but I dae wish tae show ye gaels how 'tis done, and when will I get a better chance than in a practice situation where if i'm wrong and ye are better at this, then I will na lose my hide?"

  Both the Gaels laughed at this, and then Donnell shook forearms with Tal before he went and got him a practice sword, handed it to him, and backed away into a fighting stance, saying "come at me whenever ye are ready."

  Tal did. Aye, he did, and he didn't use any of the fancy moves Jaelle had taught him from the future. No, better save them as surprises in case the alliance failed. But Tal was stronger than most warriors. Working the forge will do that, and he was quite confident that he could beat any one Gael in a fair fight.

  Chapter 12

  The Gael came in swinging his practice sword hard, but Tal was ready for him, blocking and avoiding in the best form. And then it was Tal’s turn, and he attacked for all he was worth — but the Gael blocked or evaded all his attacks too. Seeing all these men in dresses had given Tal a deceiving impression, it seemed. After a while, he and the Gael were both panting and sweating, and they called a rest.

  "Ye fight well for a savage," said the Gael conversationally while he poured them both earthenware cups of water from a pitcher.

  "And ye fight well for a man who wears a dress like this one every day," Tal told the Gael, pinching at the leine Deirdre had loaned him.

  They stood there and faced each other off, each with a look that was trying to look amused but was really offended. Trying to be friendly but feeling distrustful. And that wouldn't do. No, Tal would have to be the bigger man and extend the olive branch. Eight months ago he wouldn't have realized this. Was he actually becoming diplomatic?

  All the while, Tal’s strongest urge was to break away from this group of men and go running after Deirdre. What would they do with her?

  Well, I defy them to do anything with her while her powers are still strong. The woad magic lasts two days, so she must be able to go that long without communing with nature…

  And the cold hard fact was he didn't think he would get five feet toward the exit from this underground stone chamber and Deirdre before these men would stop him. Against one of them he liked his chances — particularly because he hadn't shown them any of Jaelle’s special moves — but against three dozen? No.

  And so Tal knew he needed to take the diplomatic approach. He didn't like it. It went against his whole life's warmongering experience. But he knew it was the right approach, and he said a silent ‘Thank you’ to Father for forcing him to learn along with Breth.

  Besides, I can always resort to violence of diplomacy fails.

  Both rested now, they continued their duel — with much the same result. They were well matched, and Tal began to enjoy himself. And then as Angus had promised, practice came to an end.

  The laird stepped into the middle of the room, and a small boy who accompanied him clapped three times, the echo putting an end to all activity. The men put their practice swords in racks that lined the low stone walls as they left the room in twos and threes, talking about the other duties they were off to.

  "Standing watch at the docks is sae boring. I wish we could dae practice fighting all day instead."

  "Aye, or at least be inside all the day, ye ken?"

  "Ye have the right o it. The air is getting fair cold, especially at night."

  And then Tal heard something that made his blood run cold.

  "I dinna ken, those druids keep pleading how our caves are dank and cold compared tae their precious lodging in their sacred grove."

  His hunch was right. The druids were being held here against their will. That comment proved it.

  Tal’s inner warrior urged him to run off and rescue Deirdre right now, not wasting any time on the pleasantries.

  ‘Go get her. Grab her and run with her. You can get a good ways toward Mailcon and Aalish before your woad magic wears out.’

  But his head won against his instincts.

  The woad magic will wear off any moment now. The cool reasoning of my head must prevail. This fight will be won in different ways, newer ways whose power I'm just beginning to appreciate.

  And then most of the Gaels were gone. Tal stood alone in the room with Angus and one other guard, the boy, and ...

  The moment the Laird looked him in the eye, Talorac knew his mission was a failure unless he made clear his association with Deirdre. If these people distrusted druids enough to lock them away against their will, then how much more they would distrust a stranger who had arrived with a druid. There was no time to plan his approach to this problem. He just had to wing it.

  The laird was staring at him, waiting for an explanation for his presence -- and from the look of him, probably preparing to have him thrown out and Deirdre holed up in here forever.

  That last bit spurred him to action. He couldn't let that happen to her. Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat at the realization of just how much depended on this moment, Tal stepped forward, extending his sword arm to such an extent that he would not have time to draw before the man killed him.

  Tal didn't bow. He represented a sovereign people, and they weren’t pledging fealty to this laird. No, they were offering an alliance. One allies with an equal, not a subjugate.

  "Wull met, Laird Fearghas. I am Talorac brother o Breth, who is leader o ten clans o the people after a trial by combat with Drest the power usurper. I come as my brother’s emissary, charged with beginning tae forge an alliance between oor two peoples in the interest o raiding together against the barbarians tae the south who call themselves Romans and their abominable wall which blocks the migration o the game and needs tae topple. I hope I hae found ye wull and yer people prospering and yer leadership open tae the people’s proposition."

  The laird didn't order Angus to seize Tal and throw him into the dungeon where they kept the druids. So far so good.

  No, he stood there a moment, visibly deciding what he was going to say and then just as visibly coming to a decision.

  "As ye ken, I am but one o the lairds here, and oor lairds are similar tae yer chieftains, ye ken. It disturbs me that yer brother has become the leader ower nine other chieftains, but the d… but they say the only constant is change and that we must be ready when it comes like a river, swimming with the flow o it lest we go under and lose oor breath."

  The laird paused again.

  Against his will, Tal admired his beautiful speech, which had really said nothing. The man was good at buying time to think, and Tal would tuck his example away in the back of his mind as something to share with Breth later – if he survived to do so.

  The laird took a deep breath and let it out in a casual manner, as if he had all the time in the world and this was a casual conversation between old friends.

  Was everyone this relaxed here?

  Tal snuck a sidelong glance at Angus. No, the guard was standing at the ready for battle, and though his hand was not on the pommel of his sword, it was on his hip, very near there.

  No, this is not a casual encounter at all. Best remember that.

  But that didn't mean Tal could put his hand near his own sword. Oh no. For better or for worse, he was stuck here now in the role of the diplomat, dependent on his wits and his tongue for his very survival. It was thrilling.

  And there it was. The Laird's face changed from welcome to determination. No longer did he mask his suspicion with the farce of welcome, either. No, he let the suspicion show on his face as he said his next bit.

  "And this Deirdre ye hae arrived with. How did that come tae pass?"

  Frankly mystified at these people's distrust of the druids, Talorac let his puzzlement show.

  "I encountered Deirdre for the foremaist time with o
or own clan’s druids at a sacred grove, and they vouched for her, saying I should travel here with her. I admit that at foremaist, I resented her authority ower me, the brother o a lead chieftain. Howsoever, I hae gradually come tae value her company. She has been a big help. I hae only just met her, but I hae come tae trust her during the six days we've been traveling together. She and I are allies, as I hope yer people and my people will be allies. I hope ye'll see that all o us need tae join together and repel this threat that has taken ower the south o the land."

  The Laird reacted to this, preparing to speak.

  Guessing what the laird would say, Talorac pushed on while he still had the opportunity.

  "Nay, we dinna wish tae live in the lands tae the south either. Howsoever, the invaders are using these lands with evil intent. Sae far, they've succeeded this time in pushing us north o the wall, where they didna succeed with the wall they built afore. What's next? If they can push us north o one wall, will they try and push us north o yet another, and another? Once oor backs are against the North Sea, what then? They dinna think o us as people. They enslave us and force us tae work on their fortifications. They are the enemy.”

  Not daring to look the man in the face for fear of confirming offense, Tal took advantage of the laird’s silence in considering this in order to take a deep breath. He needed to rush into the crux of the immediate situation and felt the need to fortify himself with air.

  Here goes...

  “And just as puzzled as ye seem tae be about my arriving with a druid, I am equally as puzzled at yer distrust o the druids. Are they na oor counselors and historians and teachers, the verra keepers o oor ancient knowledge and traditions? why would ye distrust them sae?"

  There. He had put all his thoughts on the table and was no longer hiding anything. It felt good to have asked the question that burned in his mind. Even if in a moment’s time he would be condemned for it, he would have his answer. Or so he thought.

  Howsoever, the Laird didn't give anything away. No, he just kept his thoughts to himself and said something that would buy him more time. Tal had to admire the man's skill even as he resented the power the laird held over him in this enclosed space.