Tal took his time smithing the three brooches. It was no small task. First, he had to create the long wires that would be tied into knots, and then he had to tie those knots in a way that matched Deirdre’s wax impressions of the stone locks. Everything had to be precise.

So is it any wonder it took him three or four tries on each one? The druids provided the iron and a bucket of water to throw his failures into, but who could blame him for keeping one each of the unsuccessful versions? After all, his work and effort had gone into it, so he deserved to keep the scrap metal as payment, right?

The druids were in deep conversation while he worked, thinking he wouldn't pay much attention, he guessed, but talking nonetheless about things that mattered to them.

"You grew up above the Gael stronghold?" Mailcon asked.

"Aye,” Deirdre said, “and we all speak Gaelic in my time. Although we are all mixed between the two peoples, we have become one. It's a shame that your language has been lost. I hope to remember some of it when I return to my time. That would make me popular among the nobles."

Nobles was an unfamiliar word to him, so Tal was relieved when Aalish cocked her head to the side.

“Who are the nobles?”

Deirdre furrowed her brow in concentration.

“Nobles are above even clan chieftains, rather the way Breth is above nine chieftains.”

They all laughed a strange laugh at this. They didn't mean the nobles harm, but they didn't regard them with as much respect as Tal would've thought.

Of course, Deirdre was having him make keys to these people's most secret room, so obviously she didn't respect them very much either.

Tal froze for a moment.

Aalish put a hand on his shoulder.

"Do you need a rest, Tal? You’ve been working very hard. Here, pull up a log and sit down for a few moments and catch your breath and relax those hard-working muscles. You deserve it. I'll send someone for mead, and some of that deer from the evening meal."

This was as good an excuses as any for his pause, so Tal did as she suggested. His hunger was great after the two days he and Deirdre had spent traveling constantly, fueled only by the magic of the woad decorations. And come to think of it, that was a good line of questioning to throw them off the track of what he was really thinking.

“Will you be woading us up again when we leave here? Is that the plan, to travel two days in a row at all times?"

Aalish came over and wiped his sweaty forehead with a damp cloth. It felt good.

"Aye, for this is an errand of great haste, as you know. We must have peace between the people and the Gaels. It is the only way we will ever fend off the hordes of barbarians to the south."

Tal made small talk with the druids in this way until he had finished the large meal. He took just a just a tiny bit of the mead, though. He needed to keep his wits about him.

How was he going to make peace with the Gaels while Deirdre snuck in and plundered them? Was she even going to allow him to try?

"It occurs to me that in the same way Deirdre can speak our language now, I need to be able to speak the Gaelic language when we get there. I know you can make this possible, so please, let's do that now, while we have time and we aren't under attack and nothing very much is happening. We have this guarded area you've created for us. It's a perfect opportunity, and this needs to be done no matter what."

All three druids looked at each other with earnestness, then resignation, and finally acceptance.

Mailcon was the one who communicated this in words.

"You're right, Talorac. I don't know why we didn't think of that. Join hands with Deirdre, and put your heads together to make the transfer of knowledge easier.”

Tal turned to the beautiful blonde druid with the petite features and short stature. Such a simple request this was, but he knew it would cost him a bit of his self-control, and so he hesitated to comply.

Mailcon laughed.

"She's not going to bite you."

But Deirdre appeared hesitant as well, taking several breaths and looking anywhere but in his eyes as she turned toward him and extended her hands.

At least he wouldn't be at a disadvantage when it was only the two of them, not if she was affected by him as well. Good to know.

Joined by hands and touching foreheads at last, most of the ritual that Aalish and Mailcon performed was vague to Tal. As he had feared, her touch roused him. This was wonderful on his hands. He felt like he could forge 20 more such tools as he'd already been trying to tempt, no problem at all. Which was good, because he had only finished one — the one that was in his pouch.

He wasn't a fool. He would give her the ones that worked if and when she brought him in on her plan. If and when he survived to reach their destination.

Or, she would just take them off his dead body.

But he didn’t think she would do that, not right now while her forehead rested against his, he didn’t. No, at the moment it felt as if the two of them were joined somehow — not in a sexual way, but on the spiritual plane, and mentally. He felt almost as if he could read her thoughts, with her mind so close to his and their breath mingling, the sweet scent of hers causing his heart to race.

And then he really could formulate his thoughts in a new way. He had learned a new language.

He stared at her in awe as they drew apart and he uttered his first phrase in Gaelic.

"That was far and away the most mystical experience I hae ever heard o."

She tried to act as if she went through this daily, shrugging her shoulders and looking away.

But he could see it had impressed her as well. He also could tell she'd been as affected as he had by their closeness, by the mingling of their breath. She looked straight into his eyes for the first time this day. And her eyes were kind toward him. Accepting. Welcoming.

He looked away. He must be imagining that.

Her voice came to him in the new language, and he understood it effortlessly, as if it were his own language, the one he'd spoken since birth.

"Perhaps this will na be the most mystical experience ye hae in yer life. If ye bide by me, ye will hae many more."

As soon as Deirdre said this, a panicked look came over her face.

Aha.

She had not meant to say that, but it had been what she was thinking in her heart. Maybe he had some sway over her and he could actually make his own mission come to pass, the mission of getting the Gaels used to the idea of helping the people raid the barbarians.