Kirstie

Kirstie got to do some serious thinking on the voyage home. It occurred to her that Abraxas would not be giving up. The church covered much of Europe, but there were still pockets of paganism and other religions vying for the people’s attention. The right Gael could go to Spain where Christianity and Islam struggled. Frisia, and Flanders would be easy targets with the right bloodline. He could try Brittany again like he did in Margueritte’s life, or maybe southern Francia around Septimania or Provence, like Arles, though she remembered he tried that once already. Denmark would be easy. He could send a Dane, an Angle, or a Jute to the Jutland peninsula. She worried herself to no end.

She knew better than to try to get Jarl to turn to the English shore, though she did ask him several times. She even suggested he could drop her off and leave her there. Jarl shook his head. “Inga, Mother Vrya, and maybe your giant and other friends might never forgive me.” At least he was talking to her pleasantly again.

“Maybe after you are home, like in a few months, like after the winter?” Kirstie suggested.

Jarl shook his head and Leif looked up because he was never far away and always listening. Jarl spoke plainly. “I am thinking about the town that was at the mouth of the Nid River. The Vanlil killed half the town, and most of the rest fled and settled in with family in other villages. There is plenty of good land there, cleared, and ready to plant. I’m thinking with what we made on this trip I may buy some of it. My younger brother and his young family could move there to keep it and live well.”

Leif interrupted. “I heard the king is offering to pay to repair the docks there, and the shipbuilders are talking about moving their drydocks to that place.”

“But they agreed to build Kare’s ship,” Kirstie said. She knew that much.

Jarl understood but countered her words. “It may be the last ship they build in Strindlos. The town at the Nid mouth is only a day away, and with help from the king, many may go there to rebuild the place. We have an advantage being as close as we are, but I figure we need to move soon and stake our claim before the others come.”

“Lots of people are talking that way,” Leif said. “Maybe the whole village will go there.”

“And, I expect the king will eventually rebuild his house, and probably with stone this time, like a fortress. That will cause even more people to go there to shelter under the protection of the king.” Jarl shook his head for Kirstie. “I have enough to keep me busy for at least the next year. I’m sorry. Besides, we did our hag, and good men died, and Rune did his and more died. I figure it is Harrold’s turn.”

Kirstie curled her lip at the idea of sailing with Harrold but nodded. She did not want to go anywhere on Harrold’s ship. The man upset her, burning churches and monasteries. But mostly, Kare would be aboard the ship, and she did not want to be in such close quarters with him for maybe months.

When they pulled into the dock at Strindlos, Inga came with Mother Vrya. Poor Mother Vrya looked like she was ageing rapidly. She walked with a cane. Hilda was there, with Kare’s friend Thoren of all people, and Alm came, but he kept a couple of steps back from the crowd. Husbands and sons hugged wives and mothers. Some wives and mothers wept when they found out some men died on this voyage. Honestly, Yrsa and Kirstie wanted to cry with them, but Mother Vrya indicated there was some urgency.

“Lind and Gruden came from the king. They heard some dwarfs came down from the mountain to work in the forges. No telling who talked, but they said that only the Kairos could get dwarfs to cooperate in anything. I would not have guessed Lind or especially Gruden even knew the word Kairos. Anyway, the blacksmith and his people admitted nothing. Chief Kerga said nothing, but they went to a few of the outlying farms and seemed to focus on yours.”

“Everyone there seemed human and normal enough,” Inga added. “They have no reason to suspect you except you being a shield maiden is most unusual. I told them your father was a navigator who died in Francia, and you learned navigation from him. That made you a valuable member of any crew. I think they bought it.”

“Are they still here?” Kirstie asked.

“No,” Mother Vrya said. “But they will be back. They spoke with Chief Kerga about moving the whole village to the mouth of the Nid.”

“Nidarosss. Nid mouth,” Kirstie named the town.

“The king wants the town re-founded,” Inga interjected.

“Kerga said he would think about it.”

Kirstie sent up a little prayer that she might live this life without being found by whomever was looking for her—servants of the masters, no doubt. She stopped to hug Hilda and glanced at Thoren whom she thought of as the nice one. “So, are you married yet?” she asked.

Hilda pretended shock, but Thoren said the truth. “Not yet.” He seemed happy about the prospect, and so did Hilda so Kirstie did not mind.

At the last, Kirstie turned to Alm. Yrsa had already run ahead and loved on him, so Alm was ready to speak when she arrived. Without any fanfare or anything to prepare her, the elf said, “Fiona is pregnant.” Kirstie was shocked, especially when he added, “Vortesvin.”

“Humans are not made to carry troll babies,” Kirstie protested. “What was she thinking?” Kirstie did not bother to ask what the troll was thinking. She started to walk toward home. Inga and Mother Vrya had their hands full with the grieving women. Yrsa and Alm began to follow Kirstie, but Kirstie nixed that. “Yrsa, you need to go to the big house and make sure we get a fair share each. Tell Captain Jarl and Leif I will haunt them if they don’t do right by the families that lost loved ones.”

Yrsa nodded, took Alm by the hand and led him to the big house. Kirstie walked alone on the road to her house until the very end when Buttercup caught her. Mariwood stayed back and looked pensive. “Lady don’t yell. Please. Pleasy-please. They are liking each other very much, and Vortesvin is good to the boys. Even Birdie likes the troll, and I never thought I would in a billion years, but so do I. Fiona is a nice lady and a friend. Please.”

“Humans are not built to carry troll babies,’ Kirstie repeated herself and pushed passed the fairies. She walked right passed the cooking fire and the ladies there, continued passed the cows where Vortesvin and two human disguised elves were fixing the fence, and she came to the trees where she stopped just inside the forest edge. She screamed just as loud and long as she could. Thanks to Njord’s gift she could take an inhumanly big breath. She screamed a long time. She felt sure that was not what Njord had in mind. She smiled and rubbed her throat when she came back out from the trees and said in a hoarse voice, “There. Now I feel better.”