Breth was incredulous. Drest was good on the field of battle, but he had absolutely no idea what he was doing when it came to clan politics. He was pressing the chieftains way too hard, making them do every little thing his way.

The mood of the camp was like a stormy night compared to the glorious day of the bonfire celebration. All the people had cross looks on their faces, and although each person he encountered nodded at him, they didn't exchange greetings the way they normally would.

It was no wonder. For some stupid reason, Gede, Chieftain Ru's little son, had wandered into the middle of the chieftains' meeting and asked one of the chieftains the way to broch nine. That was something none of the people, not even a little child, would do unless someone at least as important as a chieftain put them up to it. And who would do that?

Drest had been so unnecessarily angry about it though. He had nearly killed Ru over it. Things were getting out of control. If Breth hadn't stepped in and grabbed the boy and run with him, there was no telling what would have happened.

Even now, Breth didn't have any faith that things were going to turn out all right. He was headed toward the sacred grove, anxious to talk this over with Deoord and Ia and Boanne. They were wise. They would know what to do.

Breth was almost to the sacred grove when he saw…

"Jaelle!"

"Breth!"

He ran to her and she met him halfway, and the two of them clutched each other on the shady path to the sacred grove, almost at the very spot where Morna had mocked Jaelle with Brude and Leo, saying she should guard the carts.

But all thoughts of Morna fled his mind as he held Jaelle close to him and felt her holding on just as tight.

And then he saw that she was not alone. An old, old, old druid was with her. He had to be a Druid, because nobody else lived so long. The man was at least seventy. His gray hair was long and came over his shoulders, and his hands were more gnarled than any Breth had ever seen.

But Breth didn't care that the druid stood there, waiting to be acknowledged. He kissed Jaelle with all the longing he had stored up the whole night he had waited for her.

And the stranger didn't interrupt.

After not long enough at all, Jaelle pulled away and started speaking. He tried to kiss her again. Whatever she was trying to say could wait. But she spoke through that, so this must be important.

For the land's sake, it had better be.

It was.

"Breth! Listen! Drest is from my time. I used to be... betrothed to him, and he paid the Gaels to attack so that he could rescue you and the other clans. You cannot trust him. I was going to meet you in the woods, I was! But another druid from my time, not this one, stole the helmet from me. I only just met Alasdair here, and so it took him quite a while to convince me to trust him enough to let him... put me into a trance so he could copy helmets for us. I don't have the helmet, so I'm not able to leave here—"

At this, Breth whirled with all the command presence he had in him to face down the old druid.

"If Jaelle wants to leave here, then you will make it possible."

The old man smiled at him and then wrinkled his nose in amusement. He spoke with the oddest accent ever. If Breth didn't know such a thing were impossible, he would have sworn it was a combination of Pictish and Gaelic.

"She doesna want tae leave here. She wants tae stay and get marrit tae ye this verra day. I saw it in her mind."

What!

Seeing red, Breth lunged at the man, druid or not.

"In her mind! If you have violated her trust—"

Breth felt Jaelle's hands on his waist from the back, trying to pull him away from the old man.

"I gave him my consent, Breth. Leave him be, please! It was the only way I had to get back to you. He's here to help. And he wants our help stopping the Richard druid who stole my helmet from…"

Breth had backed off, and Jaelle turned to Alasdair.

"Just what is it Richard wants to do?"

Richard! I knew that druid was trouble. This explains much - my feeling of being watched, Gede running into the chieftain meeting. He does need to be stopped, but it will take actual evidence for me to survive accusing a druid.

Alasdair gestured for the two of them to follow him over to the sacred grove, and without waiting to see if they did, he went that way.

Breth didn't find it at all odd that a druid knew the way to the sacred grove, figuring he must sense the place.

Breth hugged Jaelle by her waist and followed.

"So do you trust this Alasdair?"

"Aye, I do. He was in my mind and could have done any number of things and he didn't, and he's a professor at the university my good friend Kelsey attended. She trusted him enough to send him to help me when I called out to her in my dreams as a prisoner at the Roman fort."

Hm. Breth would give Alasdair the benefit of the doubt. For now.