Kirstie

First, Kirstie grew through some more ordinary and strange things. She had her house rebuilt, and the men were glad to do it because of her help in driving off the Vanlil invasion. One old man, Bjorn the Bear even volunteered to teach her how to use those weapons she carried. He was not much of a teacher. He mostly knew the long handled single blade battleaxe, and she got good with hers. Also, the old man drank too much. He said it was because he spent all those years at sea fighting the Angles, Saxons, Franks, Frisians, and so many people he could not name them all. One afternoon, in a moment of honesty, he said it was because he killed so many men. In his old age he imagined there were better ways for people to settle their differences without all that fighting and killing. So he drank. But Kirstie learned and became something of an expert with her battleaxe. In the end, since Bjorn the Bear had neither a wife nor children, Kirstie let him move into her rebuilt barn where he proceeded to drink himself to death. She wept when she buried the old man.

Meanwhile, she learned mostly from the elves who built a small enclave in the woods by the house. It was a place where Yrsa could live and be close. Buttercup had no interest in learning to fight. She attached herself to Inga, and the two of them learned from Mother Vrya, in particular how to heal the survivors after the men got done fighting. Yrsa, on the other hand, felt reluctant to learn about the weapons at first, but after the first month, she seemed to get into the whole idea. She even admitted that it felt like her life calling.

“It’s the endorphins,” Kirstie said.

“I am sure you would know,” Yrsa answered, and shot her arrow perfectly into the bullseye. “What are endorphins?”

“I’m not sure,” Kirstie answered honestly and shot her arrow a little off center. “But you got them.”

Kirstie started learning with Defender, her long knife. She found she had a second shorter but wider knife she called Cutter and learned with two knives for a while. Kirstie found the spear a bit awkward, and she did not have the upper body strength to throw a good javelin, but she told herself she needed to know these things in case the opportunity presented itself.

Kirstie turned twelve before her elf teacher allowed her to pick up her sword. She had to use two hands at first, but she worked out and got stronger. She tried just her right hand and eventually picked up her shield with her left hand. It was not too hard since she had been using her shield already in her axe lessons and gripping her axe with only her right hand. Just when Kirstie thought she was getting good with her sword, her teacher made her switch hands. Putting the shield in her right hand was not hard, though she needed to not use it like a club, but the sword in her left hand felt awkward.

“Your left hand used Cutter just fine,” her teacher said. “Salvation is simply a longer version of Cutter.”

“My head knows that.” Kirstie responded. “But my hand wants to act stupid.”

She eventually made an acceptable swordswoman with her left hand, and thank goodness, they went back to her right.

Yasmina

Yasmina wore a dress to ride. When she stood on the ground, it looked like an ordinary enough dress, but it had a slit front and back so when she sat on her horse, the dress would fall to the sides down to her stirrups. The dress had a hood and mask attached that covered her nose and mouth so only her eyes could be seen. She also had good solid boots on her feet. Al-Rahim said in the real world they did not always ride on smooth cobblestone courts.

Ahmed, al-Rahim’s sergeant in the harem guards taught her to ride. Her horse was a gentle beast that would never be used as a war horse. When it was younger, it helped train recruits, but now that it was old, it could not even do that. It could walk and trot with encouragement, but it could not really gallop, even with only a skinny little girl on its back.

Aisha, in a similar outfit, rode beside her. Aisha knew full well how to ride, and honestly, she spent most of their time on horseback making sure Yasmina did not fall out of her seat, at least at first. Yasmina got tired of going around and around the courtyard soon enough and complained about that almost from the beginning. Eventually, they got to go out the palace gate to a small field where they could at least trot along at some speed. That lasted for a while, but by the time Yasmina got ready to turn twelve, she began a new complaint.

“When can I have a real horse? I want to ride and feel the wind in my face. I want to ride like the Pony Express, like the cavalry coming to the rescue.” No one knew what she was talking about, but they got the general idea.

When they got down, Yasmina went straight for her bow. Aisha had a beautiful bow in her slip, her invisible, personal piece of the second heavens that followed her around and only she could access. She also knew how to use the bow. Yasmina got an acceptable bow with an easy draw. She aimed and exhaled before she fired. Aisha fired two arrows in the same time. The princess hit the second circle on the target. It hit low and to the left. Aisha’s arrows both struck dead center, or near enough.

“Endorphins,” Yasmina said with an accusatory look in Aisha’s direction.

“What are endorphins?”

“I have no idea, but you have them,” Yasmina answered. While she stared at Aisha with her deadpan face, she called the way Kirstie called. She became instantly clothed in her armor, and al-Rahim, who came from the side door yelled.

“Princess!”

Yasmina looked at herself. Her legs were partly exposed beneath the short skirt of her armor and her arms were completely exposed from her short sleeves. She had boots to just below her knees and fingerless gloves up to her elbows, but they were form fitting, so they showed her shape.

“Oops,” Yasmina said and since her armor had fairy weave properties, she could tell it to lengthen to cover her knees and give herself long sleeves. Then she called to the cloak of Athena and made it come together in front, leaving only slits front and back to be able to sit her horse. She raised her hood and caused the material to cover her mouth and nose. She went one step further when she made the outside of her cloak imitate the color of her riding dress.

“Let me see those weapons,” al-Rahim insisted.

Yasmina detached the front of her cloak with a thought, though the hood stayed up and her face remained veiled. She pulled a shield from her back. It was round but smaller than Kirstie’s being something like an old Roman cavalry shield. She pulled Defender, her long straight knife from her back, one perfectly weighted to throw. She left the scimitar at her side. It looked thin, but strong, like a saber, except it curved at the tip so it could slice anything, but it would not work as a stabbing weapon.

He rubbed his chin as he spoke. “We can begin by learning something about the knife when I get back with your mother from Jeddah.”

Yasmina opened her mouth. She was excited about learning to use her long knife but had to complain. “You are taking mother to the beach without me?”

“Princess. You better let me hold on to the sword for now,” he said, completely ignoring her complaint.

Yasmina looked at her scimitar. “Sword, go home,” she said, and the sword vanished.

Al-Rahim did not even blink. Aisha smiled and said, “She is learning many things.”

Kirstie

Captain Stenson and Frode came to see Kirstie when she turned twelve. “I’m not ready,” she yelled to them before they could come close. “Go back to sea for another practice run. I’ll be ready for the next trip.”

Once again, neither Rune nor Frode said anything. They simply turned and went back into the village.

In the village, Captain Kerga got elected chief. He limped a little for years and could not reasonably go back to sea. He arranged for Jarl to take his ship, young as the man was, but his men made no objection. Jarl the Younger had proved himself worthy on several occasions, and Kerga certainly put his trust in the man, so that was settled amicably.

Then Captain Harrold came home. He missed the Vanlil invasion, the death of Chief Birger, and everything. Tension filled the village as many feared Harrold might have wanted to take Chief Birger’s place. Mother Vrya spent two days in the big house with Kerga, Harrold, Jarl and several others who came and went. They brought in food. In the end, when the crowd was gathered outside the door, Harrold came out and said, “Kerga is Chief.” Then he turned from the crowd and went to his home by the sea. He stayed there, minding his own business, until the call of the sea got him to gather his crew and sail off into the sunset.