Kirstie

The storm came quickly. Kirstie, who was presently tuned into the sprites of the water and the air got the impression that the ship stayed on the edge of the storm. The wind and waves pushed them toward North America as it slowly turned to swipe the southern point of Greenland. The water sprites made something like a stream in the sea that kept them moving in the right direction, though it was hard to tell given the way they went up great hills of water and zoomed down the other side. The crew certainly had no control over their vessel.

The rain pelted them all day and night. In the morning, Wilam thought the rain slackened off, but Kirstie knew that was wishful thinking. She could sense where the tail edge of the storm was located and knew when they finally broke free of it about two that afternoon.

Everyone weathered the storm, and they lost no one overboard, but there were any number of cuts and bruises as men banged into the wall, the deck, the railing, the mast, and seemingly whatever else they could find. One man busted his arm on his own rower’s bench down below. One man, one of the three on the steering board that held on for twenty-four hours, got thrown from the board at the last and cracked his head against the stern dragon’s tail, giving himself a concussion.

No injury was life threatening, so after a hot meal of fried fish and being warmed by some particularly strong mead that Olaf had down in the hold, they raised the sail and continued their pursuit.

Traventor reported that they lost about half a day on the Viking ship, but that ship, once they hit the coast of Labrador, began to sail slowly to the south along the coast looking for something. Traventor said they could make up the half day by cutting the corner and heading for where they anticipated the Viking ship would be. Kirstie hoped they could catch sight of the ship once they hit the Labrador coast, but they were still too far away for that.

Yrsa got Kirstie’s attention when she reported that she was picking up something like a spiritual broadcast. The hag was reaching out to the tribes as she went by, looking for a people that would be amenable to her word about Abraxas. Abraxas might have been banished from the earth, and everywhere on the earth that he had some connection. But Kirstie understood if he forged a new connection with people unknown to him, he might yet come back to earth and ruin everything.

History has no record of Abraxas being worshiped in the new world. He has no more place here than in the old world.

Captain Olaf’s ship had a small mizzenmast for a second sail. Even though his ship was heavier and sat deeper in the water, it could almost match the speed of the longship. It could not maneuver as well, and when they had to get out the oars it lagged behind, but as long as they had the sails up and a good wind the Viking longship would not get further away.

“The hag needs to find a people confronted with two different worldviews and confused about what to believe,” Kirstie said to Yrsa, Wilam, and Brant. “She seems to be reaching out to the tribes along the shore, looking for the right set of dynamics.”

“She is looking for people with no faith that she can fill with faith in Abraxas?” Brant asked.

“No. I think it is more people whose view of the world seemed rock solid and are suddenly confronted with something that tears down that view. It is people who have always believed, but now don’t know what to believe. That is where she can gain converts, and with enough believers, she can invite Abraxas to return to the earth and start all over again.”

Kirstie imagined she knew where the hag would end up. When the Vikings came to Belle Isle and turned into the strait, she felt sure they would park a L’Anse aux Meadows on Newfoundland. That was where the future said the Vikings built a settlement. She figured they were about fifty or eighty years too soon, but maybe the stories would pass on and one or more of the men might help guide Eric the Red or Leif Ericson in the future.

In fact, the Viking ship hardly slowed when it entered the strait. It sailed all the way down to the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and for a day, Kirstie feared they might sail up the river, but they turned. They reentered the Atlantic, turned again, and sailed down the coast of Nova Scotia.

Captain Olaf’s ship had some difficulty following that course. When they reached what would someday be called the Cabot Strait, the wind turned completely against them. They had to row their way back out into the Atlantic, and that lost them another day.

Captain Ulfsson’s ship left Nova Scotia and skipped over the Gulf of Maine, making a beeline for Cape Cod. Still not finding what they were looking for, they sailed around the islands off the coast and headed into Long Island Sound. When they reached the East River, they pulled up to the eastern shore of Manhattan and went to work.

The island was divided between Iroquois speakers and Algonquin speakers. The struggle for dominance was as much cultural and psychological as physical warfare. It was the earliest version of West Side Story with the Jets and the Sharks struggling to control the neighborhood. Most of the innocents on the island got caught up in the struggle, and frankly did not know what to do.

It did not take long for the hag to gather people to her side. A demonstration of power and the promise of having a god with us was all it took. Many came willingly, wanting an end to the struggles. Some did not believe, but they soon moved out of the way. The Iroquois fled to the Bronx or abandoned the struggle altogether and tried to navigate the paths between the Lenape and Mahican tribes to get back to Mohawk land. The Algonquins crossed over to Brooklyn where they had a strong base, made strong by the twelve-foot giant, Anenak, who lived and all but ruled there.

When Olaf’s s ship arrived in the East River, Kirstie had them row first to Brooklyn. It would be dangerous, but they would need allies against the hag if the Lenape were willing. They were met on the shore by an armed party, and the giant. At least they were not met with arrows.

The captains, their officers with Kirstie and Yrsa came ashore and walked a short way to where the natives stood armed and ready. Wilam whispered. “Thank you, Yrsa, for contacting the light elves in this region and gathering the information we need.”

“And they are watching the hag and Ulfsson’s crew?” Brant wanted to be sure.

“They are, but we have our own problems first,” Wilam answered, and just missed grabbing Kirstie’s arm because of the distraction of the question. Kirstie, as was her way, rushed out in front of the captains and the officers, Yrsa on her tail, and she shouted.

“Giant. Why are you here? The only giants remaining in the north are around the great lakes or scattered across the distant mountains. Anenak, do you not fear the wasting disease being around so many ordinary humans?”

“Who are you to know about the wasting? Are you the one I was told was coming, or is there another?” he asked, even as an elf-like man came to appear beside the giant. Many Algonquin warriors stepped back from the sight, and the captains and their men looked uncomfortable. The man did not exactly look like an elf. He looked like what the Kairos sometimes called a new world elf. He went to his knees in front of Kirstie.

“I am the only one in this time and place,” Kirstie said. “But why are you not with the last of your kind?” she asked.

The giant conceded and told his story. “When I was a child some four hundred years ago, my mother told me the tale of Yazu the Great and his companion, the young mortal girl Huyana not Ugly. They came from the west, far and far. They came to destroy the serpents who walked and talked. The battle was fierce, and in the end, Yazu the Great destroyed the last of the serpents, though he gave his life to do it. The serpents who walked and talked were removed from this world to never return, and Huyana not Ugly buried Yazu in a great mound of all honor. I do not know the truth of this tale, but when the last of my tribe became taken by the wasting, I escaped and thought to come to this place and see if I might find the mound of honor. I have not found it, and now I wonder if the tale is true or just a story.”

“That was ages and ages ago,” Kirstie said. “But it is true. The great evil was utterly destroyed. I know this,” Kirstie said, and reached into the deep past for a life she once lived. She traded places with the young woman. “I know this because long ago I was called Huyana.” She opted to leave the not ugly off her name.

Anenak went to his knees and found a few tears. The natives did not know what to think, but they lowered their weapons, and some of them also went to their knees.

Huyana felt the dizziness come upon her and thought it prudent to trade places with Kirstie again, and Kirstie spoke. “Anenak, my friend. In this life I am called Kirstie, and this time I have come from the east, far and far. There is a new evil that must be utterly destroyed. They are women who become monsters of great power and who speak to the mind about a god that must not be. We chased them across the endless water and came to this place where they plan to do their evil magic. Will you go with us to end this threat to all people?”

Anenak agreed and many of the warriors agreed with him. After all, it was their land and their people at risk.

“Lord Chestnut” she spoke to the elf on his knees. “Please rise. You must ride with us on the ship and explain to the captains how Ulfsson and his crew are preparing to defend themselves.”

Anenak, bring your warriors across the river and we will meet you on the shore and go together.

“They are building a fort by the lake,” Lord Chestnut told the captains as they went to the lifeboat, returned to the ship, and went to the other side.

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MONDAY

Yasmina reaches Alexandria only to run into trouble but there is both a ship from Amalfi pulling into the docks and the last ship she ever expected to see and hopefully both crews might help. Until Monday, Happy Reading

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