Chapter 3 | The Druid

The commotion outside my makeshift bedroom was impossible to ignore. Through the flimsy walls, I could hear the clatter of dishes and the excited hum of conversation. Apparently, the Druid was staying for lunch. My stomach rumbled in agreement as I learned Allena's father had snagged a wild boar–a feast in the making.

Iona walked me to the bath, our footsteps echoing on the rough wooden floor. Hushed whispers and hurried footsteps filled the air as a towering figure, dwarfing even Allena's brothers, emerged with Boann and grabbed hold of my arm. His bushy mustache twitched as he spoke, his anxiety evident in his rapid-fire words. 

"Allena, listen closely," he rasped, his grip tightening on my arm. "The Druid cannot know about your loss of memory. It was his idea to ally with the Romans. If he finds out that you don't remember a thing, he may have second thoughts about choosing you as the bride. I put too much at stake, so this wedding has to happen." He turned to look at his wife and barked, "Did she forget to speak as well?"

"He is your father, by the way. Melvin, the Chief." Boann introduced him to me.

He nodded curtly, his eyes flitting between me and the approaching door. "I need to get back. Remember, act normal. I told him you're awake and seem fine. No need for an examination." With that, he vanished as quickly as he arrived, leaving behind a tense silence. Boann smiled at us before leaving after him.

The roundhouse, despite the bright sunshine outside, felt shrouded in an eternal twilight thanks to the numerous fireplaces. Stepping out of the cramped bathroom, the aroma of caramelized onions and herbs tantalized my senses. My stomach churned—the last meal I remembered was from the university cafeteria, ages ago.

I donned the least archaic-looking linen dress that I could find in Allena's wardrobe and walked out into the living area. A massive fire pit crackled in the center, roasting an entire boar alongside various herbs, with two more pots simmering on the side. Allena's mother and Selma bustled about, setting the table, while the brothers cleared space for everyone to sit.

The first to notice me was the Druid–an aged man with a long, white beard that reminded me of Gandalf. He wore a white linen robe adorned with a gold-colored cloak, an image of contrasting simplicity and opulence. Iona explained that Druids held a privileged position, acting as healers, teachers, and mediators.

"You've recovered remarkably well," he said, his gaze sharp. "Last night, I warned your father you might not wake for months."

I managed a weak smile and took the seat next to Devin, directly across from the Druid. His gaze lingered on me as he offered a small vial.

"This is a remedy for your headache. Mix a few drops in water and drink five times today."

"Thank you," I mumbled, surprised by his seemingly contradictory behavior. He predicted months of unconsciousness, yet offered a cure.

The table overflowed with an enticing spread: wild boar soup, grilled boar meat, freshly baked bread, and a hearty chicken and vegetable porridge. I was so glad to not have ended up in the Stone Age when people didn't know about fire and ate raw meat.

I watched the Druid savor a hefty portion of meat. It must be nice, I thought cynically, to be wined and dined while peddling cryptic predictions.

"I sense… an unusual aura around you," he drawled, his eyes locking with mine. "A personality shift, not uncommon after head injuries."

A change of person happened here, not just personality. I silently stared back at him.

"I sense some arrogance and headstrongness in her," he said to Allena’s dad.

The room fell silent, everyone's eyes glued to me. Did he just read my mind, or was it simply my lack of deference that gave me away?

"The omens are troubling," he said. "The Roman alliance is vital to our survival at this point. There will be war and strife sooner than we imagine. You have a responsibility to protect our people. If you don't tone down your behavior, that future husband of yours will waste no time getting rid of you."

Before I could retort, a warning glare from Aiden silenced me.

"They call us barbarians," the Druid continued, "yet their notion of 'civilized' means men are superior. Celtic women enjoy far greater rights. You'll have none of that in the Roman world. Roman women are little more than housewives and child-bearers."

His words held a chilling truth. I'd read about the Roman brutality—massacres, burned villages, and enslavement. 

"I have a question," I blurted, much to Allena’s father's horror. As part of my studies, I'd delved into the influence of invaders on art and architecture, and some things never sat right with me, and I could not resist the urge to ask the Druid to clarify.

"You fulfill various roles," I began, "yet leave nothing documented. If knowledge is too sacred to write down, what of the sacred nature of the written word? Is it not a gift, a way to preserve the roots of humanity?"

He studied me intently.

"Allena, eat your food. You must be starving." Boann said in a firm voice.

"Music and language are never forgotten," the druid replied, his voice softer now. "They will be remembered by people and used for many millennia to come. Change and evolution are inevitable. Only remnants of any culture find their way into the future."

I had many more questions, but I decided to save them for later. Instead, I threw him a curveball. "Can you shapeshift?" I blurted, referencing a popular fantasy game.

He chuckled, the first genuine smile I'd seen on his face. "I thought you didn't believe in any of our Druish folklore," he said, his eyes twinkling.

There was something strangely endearing about him despite his earlier pronouncements. He was clearly a man who enjoyed his food, his beard oscillating comically as he chewed. I couldn't help but return his smile briefly. For a fleeting moment, I felt as if he knew more than he was letting on.

The Druid finished his meal and addressed the Chief. "I believe your daughter will handle those bastards just fine. I'll see you tomorrow for the engagement." He stood up, his cloak billowing around him. "Don't forget that 'magic elixir' for your headache, Allena," he added with a wink before exiting the room.

Lost in thought, I stared after him.

Engaged?

Tomorrow?

I didn't even know this future husband's name. All I knew was that he had a girlfriend and this wedding was a business deal, not a love story.

Did the Druid know more about Allena and me than he was revealing? And, more importantly, how did I end up in this strange new world?

Would I ever find my way back home?