At last, Deirdre climbed out of the river, shaking her legs to try and get as much water off them as possible. The water was cold! In her travels with Sasha and Seumas and their children, she'd always been in the cart.

She wasn’t going to tell Talorac, but this was her first time actually wearing the woad as armor for any length of time. Oh sure, she'd applied it before, hearing Galdus think the incantations that would make it armor and not just blue goose grease. And she'd used the armor to spar with her trainers in the secret dungeons late at night when no one was the wiser. But she'd never been on an actual woad journey like this. It would've been so much fun if she hadn’t had Talorac along.

He was still crossing the river, so she found a flattish dry rock in the sun and sat down to let the early June sunlight dry her.

The woad armor took away the cold, but she didn't want to drip water and leave even more of a trail for others to follow. She'd been warned about that, just not told well enough what would take the woad off and what would be all right.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized Alasdair had been in quite a hurry to get her here. She tried not to show how nervous she got as they approached Broch Eleven.

It was time to tell Talorac why he in particular had been chosen to go along with her to see the Gaels.

She swallowed the big lump in her throat. She had always been outspoken. Precocious, her mother and grandmother had called it. Sasha had loved her for it, aye, and Seumas had as well. She didn't need Talorac to fawn over her so. No, all she needed to do was convince him to do this favor for her. And not tell anyone about it.

She stole a sideways glance at him as they ran through the brush.

Unlike her, the closer he got to Broch Eleven, the more confident he looked. Of course he did. More than likely, he’d been here many times and knew these people well from gatherings where their migration paths intersected. He was in his element — or so he thought.

She bided her time, keeping the conversation glib and standoffish. It suited her just fine.

As usual, he spoke to her just in passing while he stared ahead in obvious pleasure toward the broch, which they now could see in the distance up on top of a hill.

"So you don't use the brochs at all in your time?"

She didn’t look at him either.

"Nay, the brochs are ruins in my time, which is 800 years before Jaelle’s time. A contemporary of hers raised me, you know."

This got his attention. He actually turned and looked at her with interest this time, instead of with the disdain he usually tried to cover his attraction with.

"Really? How did that come to happen? That must be a good story."

Now she pretended indifference. This was sort of a fun game the two of them were playing, not saying what they wanted to and not admitting their attraction to each other. She looked off into the distance and sighed as if it was tedious to tell him the details of her life that she loved the most.

"How much of the story do you know, about how Jaelle came to be here?"

He puffed up his chest with self-importance.

"I know that Jaelle and her ex-man Drest are both from 2000 years into the future. I know that the helmet which brought her here was crafted by druids in order for them to send him to do their bidding."

Deirdre pretended to be chewing this over, deep in thought about whether or not to tell him more about how Jaelle’s contemporary, Sasha, had come to her time.

It worked. He wanted to know, and so he would tell her more. Aye, indeed. He shook his head slightly and took a quick breath, then spilled more of what he knew.

"I know that her ex-man Drest, John in her time, comes from a family where every fourth-born son must serve the druids and that he and his brothers and his cousins all left their betrotheds on their 18th birthdays. Jaelle was one of those betrotheds but wasn't left until later. Howsoever, I know she has many friends among those betrothed women whose men left suddenly with no explanation."

Hiding the smile she felt inside at the ease with which she was manipulating him, Deirdre nodded sagely and gave the Pict a look of respect.

Silly man.

He accepted her admiration and respect at face value. Much easier than manipulating women.

Again, she paused with a thoughtful look on her face as they walked ever closer to Broch Eleven and the tasks that awaited the two of them there.

At long last, she tilted her head in imitation of having made a decision to confide in him.

"Very well, I suppose you need to know why I brought you along and not a dedicated warrior. Howsoever, you cannot tell anyone, or both of us will suffer. Do you understand?"

As she knew he would, at this he looked injured in his pride. He put a hand on his heart and looked at her with a hurt expression, pleading with her to believe him, to take him into her confidence, to make him her ally — to make him her accomplice, if he only knew.

"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."