Kirstie

Kirstie took his hand and led him down to the beach where the last of the Viking ships, Kare’s ship was still visible in the distance. The men had come to the rocks with the horses, but only a few followed Wilam and Kirstie down to the beach. They heard the call, and it was strangely soft and loud and somehow echoed across the sea. “Vingevourt.”

It took a few seconds before a good hundred little blobs of sea took shape and invaded the shore, not like a wave breaking, but like an invasion of Jellyfish-like gingerbread men. The humans took many steps back, but Kirstie spoke to the king of the water sprites of the North Sea.

“We need to follow the three Viking ships that just left this shore. Can you track them and help our ships follow in their wake.”

“We can do that, easy,” Vingevourt answered, and he answered in such an excited, sweet baby-like voice some of the men who backed up moved forward again.

“We will be leaving from Bamburgh in two days. Can you meet us there to help guide us? That will give the Viking ships a two-day head start, but we don’t want to lose them.”

“Oh, don’t worry. We know every ship and shore in the sea, and we will be right on top of them all the way. Would you like us to slow them down until you get there?”

“Not at this time. Just lead the way and let us know when they stop in a port, and where they are.”

“Why sure. Not a problem. Meet you in two days.” The jelly babies turned back to the sea.

“Goodbye,” Wilam said, smiled, and waved.

“Goodbye. Bye. See ya later. Bye.” the sprites all answered.

Kirstie turned to Wilam and hugged him. “My water babies are so cute.” she breathed, and Wilam did not disagree with her.

“Beg pardon,” Brant interrupted them. “You don’t have a ship to follow them.”

“Well?” Wilam said. “We just have to wake Captain Olaf from his August sleep.”

Brant nodded and said, “I’m not waking him. But one ship on three is not very good odds.”

One of the elders spoke up. “Captain Otto will sail with you. He is coming with the men on foot. I’ll explain it to him, and I am sure there will be others.”

Kirstie just smiled up at Wilam. “We have time to get Soren settled before we sail, but you will have to lead my horse while I hang on. Talking in my head with my little ones always gives this mortal woman a headache.”

Wilam kissed her on the top of her head. “I’ll take it slow.”

Yasmina

Al-Rahim insisted. He took Ziri and Gwafa into town and secured rooms in a hostel. They would have a home cooked meal and warm beds and would not have to set tents in the wilderness for a change, but Al-Rahim would go first to make sure it was safe. They all knew it was risky, but the princess had been very good camping all those weeks without complaint. Now that they reached the no man’s land, where the Fatimid and Egypt both staked a claim but neither side actually controlled, al-Rahim thought they might get away with a visit to a village if it was small enough and out of the way enough.

Ziri and Gwafa stayed in the one road that ran through the center of the village, looking for enemy soldiers, possible hostiles, or any people that might be interested enough in the news and current events where they might contrive some way to betray them for a reward. Such things were not always easy to spot, but the village looked peaceful enough.

Al-Din and his three men stayed in the wilderness with Yasmina and Aisha. They hid behind a small rise in the landscape. Al-Din, Yasmina, and Aisha climbed up to the top of the rise but could not honestly see much, except Aisha who had elf eyes.

“There are men and camels in the distance coming to the village,” Aisha said.

“A caravan? Merchants or soldiers?” Yasmina asked.

“How can you see that? All I see is some distant dust,” al-Din said.

“Caravan,” Aisha concluded. “But Berbers of some sort.” That meant they might be friendly, and they might not. The Fatimids filled their army with Berber soldiers.

“A rider,” al-Din pointed and turned to his men. They were the last of the guard sent by the governor of Alexandria on the diplomatic mission to the Fatimids. They agreed to work for al-Din, at least until they got back to Alexandria and got paid. “A rider,” he shouted to the men. “I think it is Ziri. Omar, go check it out.”

Omar mounted his horse, sort of saluted, but he did not say anything. The others watched as the riders met and saw them wave to join them. Yasmina slid down the back of the rise. Aisha walked it with no problem. Al-Din tried to walk, but stumbled and in the end, rolled the last few feet.

When they mounted their horses, Yasmina spoke to everyone. “Remember, I am Jasmine, my maid is Yrsa…” She pointed at al-Din. “And you are Aladdin, my cousin. Now, like we planned.”

Omar waited to ride beside al-Din. Yasmina and Aisha rode behind, and the last two guards, Ali and Sulayman, brought up the rear. Ziri rode out front and brought them to the hostel before he explained.

“Captain Al-Rahim overpaid to secure two rooms. The other three in the hostel are reserved for the caravan chiefs that are expected to arrive soon. The man says they come through about once per month and sometimes take all the rooms, but sometimes only the chiefs take rooms and the rest camp in the street.” Ziri shrugged. “We get the street, but we will be by the door in case we are needed. The man said they are friendly merchants, so we will see.”

“You better set your tents,” Aisha told the men. “I saw camels in the distance. They will be here shortly.”

Aisha, al-Din, and Yasmina all went inside. Then they had to sit at a table and wait for three hours until the caravan arrived, and the merchants got settled. It was late when the food came, and al-Rahim had to make some threatening noises to make sure the boys outside got fed, which he had paid for in advance.

The chiefs of the caravan seemed nice, but standoffish. After they ate, they went straight to their rooms, but there did seem to be a bunch of Berbers coming and going throughout the evening.

Al-Rahim felt suspicious from the beginning. He set up a watch on the inside balcony outside of their two rooms. Each of the guards stood vigilant for two hours in the night. Al Rahim himself stayed in al-Din’s room and imagined they would be safe enough, but around midnight he got up and ordered the men to saddle the horses and pack everything to leave. Omar, the head of al-Din’s three guards thought he was being paranoid, but the men complied and then had to sleep outside in the open.

Gwafa was on watch when an old woman came to him from one of the merchant rooms. “Please,” she said. “Tafir is an old man, and he will hurt himself. Please, could you help us? It will only take a minute.”

Gwafa looked at the curtains covering the two doors and thought it should be all right. He stepped down to the room and the woman opened the curtain. As he went in, he found two men there. One covered his mouth, though he let out a muffled cry when the other stabbed him in his chest. The two wrestled Gwafa to the ground and stabbed him several times before he stopped moving. When they went to the balcony, two other men met them.

Aisha woke as soon as Gwafa cried out through the hand over his mouth. She woke Yasmina, banged the pommel of her knife against the wall to wake al-Rahim and hopefully al-Din, and woke Yasmina again who did not want to get up.

“Dress,” she said, and brandished her knife which got Yasmina’s attention. Yasmina yawned but called to her armor and weapons when she heard the men in the hall. The men came in quiet and carefully, thinking the women were still asleep. One got Aisha’s knife. The other got sliced across the chest with Yasmina’s scimitar. Yasmina stared at what she did with dumb, uncomprehending eyes while Aisha finished the man.

Al-Rahim poked his head into the room and said, “Hurry.” They hurried, Yasmina still carrying her scimitar in her hand. When they got outside in the dark, they heard noises and a couple of screams from overhead. Aisha grabbed Yasmina’s scimitar and wiped it clean on her sleeve. She reached to put it back in the sheath, but Yasmina said, “Go home,” and the scimitar and sheath both vanished.

Aisha got Yasmina up on her horse while al-Rahim did the same for al-Din. We have to ride. Now!” Al-Rahim shouted and started down the road, right through the middle of the Berber caravan camp.

“Gwafa?” Ziri asked.

“Not coming,” Aisha said, and it was the last thing any of them said as they rode hard. One arrow came in their direction, but it fell way short. Al-Rahim pulled up on a bump in the road to look back. He could hardly see well, even with the nearly full moon and all the stars out.

“Hopefully, they will not follow,” he said.

“We could go off the road,” Omar suggested.

Al-Rahim shook his head. “This is their land. They know the countryside and we don’t.” He looked at Yasmina and Aisha, both of whom yawned, Yasmina because she got so rudely awakened and Aisha because she was what Kirstie would call a light elf, and not made for the dark hours. “Our only hope is to continue on this back road until we come to the coastal highway. Hopefully we can lose them there.”

“If they follow,” Ziri said.

“You could go this way,” someone by Yasmina’s feet spoke which made Yasmina shriek and pull up her foot. She almost fell off the horse. When she squinted down, she identified the little one and yelled.

“Creeper!”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, like he forgot. “Boo.”

“Not funny,” she said before she changed her mind. “Slightly funny.”

“Me and my gang have been following you,” Creeper spoke up. “I figure right now you could use some help getting away where they can’t follow you.”

“Do you think?” Al-Din practiced his sarcasm.

“Is it safe?” Omar asked.

“Which way?” Al-Rahim had no problem following the imp.

“Come,” Creeper responded to the old man and led them by elf ways and secret paths that put some real distance between them and any pursuers they might have.

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MONDAY

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