R5 Greta: Connecting the Dots, part 2 of 3

September 25, 2018September 3, 2018M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Greta made sure Thissle stayed invisible, because she half expected to find the hall full of men eating and arguing about what to do. It turned out that they had some food, a veritable feast for the locals, though it looked meager compared to the work of Mrs. Kettleblack. But the only men she found were Marcus, Darius, Gaius, Hersecles, and Gunwort, a Dacian from Ravenshold, and they were worrying over a makeshift map. Greta listened for a few minutes to catch the drift of the arguments before she entered the room. She carried the statue with her, but set it on a table before she came fully into their presence. The men were polite enough to pause in their argument as she came close, and she took advantage of the silence.

Reaching out, she first called to her armor. It came to replace her dress and it fit her perfectly. She had Salvation over her shoulder and Defender across the small of her back. She wore the cloak of Athena over all, but she left her helmet on Usgard. The men all jumped, except Hersecles who had seen this trick in Boarshag.

Greta quickly took in the map and spoke. “The Quadi have camped to the north of the city and have slowly worked their way around to the east and south, leaving only the road and the big open field west of the city as unoccupied.” The men nodded. She checked her facts. Between the outpost on the forest’s edge and the city wall sat a long, flat field. The Temple Mount, the Kogaionon or Holy Mountain rose up out of that field beyond the northwest corner of the city. That seemed one of the reasons the Temple Mount appeared so impressive, rising out of the flatlands as it did.

“We must stop them here.” Marcus pressed his knife into the table where the west field showed on the map. “We need to protect the road in the southwest for the arrival of the Legion and General Pontius.”

The others started to object, but Greta yelled. “Quiet!” And they all quieted. “I have heard the arguments,” Greta said. “Lord Gunwort wants to withdraw to the city, behind the walls, and wait for the legion. I know he wants to protect his city and his people, and that is laudable and reasonable, but it might make matters worse if the Legion has to fight its’ way through to link up with us. Caesar, that is Julius and I once discussed the notion of divide and conquer. Right now, we are the divided ones. We need to minimize that division, not cast it in stone. Two small mouthfuls are easier for the Quadi to swallow than one big lump.”

“Here, here!” Darius supported what she said.

“My beloved Darius wishes to strike the main camp of the Quadi in the north. He believes a strong sortie will scatter them sufficiently so that by the time they pull themselves together, the Legion will have arrived. Unfortunately, he has failed to sufficiently consider the enemy. This is no sedentary, standing army such as you might face in Gaul, Iberia, Africa or the East. These are migratory people, mobile people, and for the most part they are on horseback. They are used to moving from place to place, and sudden enemy raids, and setting up camp quickly, and breaking camp just as quickly. You can sortie all you want and within an hour they will be right back where they started and entrenched against you besides.”

“At some personal risk, I say, here, here!” Marcus grinned.

“Lord Marcus,” she said.

“I knew it!” He snapped his fingers and grimaced before she even began.

“I am sorry, but yours is the worst idea. That is exactly what they want and unfortunately there may be no choice. As I have said, this is no standing army. They have no catapults and siege engines, and won’t build any unless they have to. They are not trying to encircle the city.”

“But then why have they moved into the fields east and south of the city?” Gunwort asked as if to suggest that she was wrong, so she explained.

“Look at the land there. It is all small farm fields punctuated by bits of woods, rocky outcroppings, springs and bogs. It is small hills and ridges. It is land where a foot soldier might stand a fighting chance against horsemen. They have taken that option away. The only option left is Marcus’ wide, flat open meadow in the west. They don’t care how many legionnaires you bring up, or how well trained they are. On that flat terrain, they know their overwhelming number of horsemen have the total advantage.”

“So if all ideas are bad.” Marcus no longer grinned. “What then can we do?”

“Gaius?” She did not hesitate to call on the old soldier. He was the only one who had said nothing thus far.

Gaius stepped up and looked at the map, but Greta knew he already had something in mind. “I would double fortify the road,” he said. “Give them the field and don’t even man the fortification on that side of the road, only build it tall enough to keep their horses from jumping it. That should blunt any cavalry advantage. They will have to dismount and tear down the first fortification to get at us while we rain arrows down on them from the second line of defense. Have a group of locals who know the terrain harass the Quadi in the south which are not many but would otherwise be at our backs while we are building. Also, a couple of quick sorties to the north, not to break them as Lord Darius suggested, but just to keep them off balance and prevent a serious attack until we are ready. Then, when the Legion arrives, send a thousand into the forest along the edge between the road and the outpost. Hopefully, they will be unseen. When the Quadi finally attack, we will have them outflanked, not only by the city wall, but with a thousand bows in the trees as well.”

“Mostly good,” Marcus said.

“But the field is wide.” Darius spoke before Marcus could frame his objection. “What if they charge down the middle out of bowshot from both sides? They could overwhelm the road by sheer numbers and we would still be divided and maybe even easier to conquer.”

“You need a flying wedge,” Greta said, and when they stared at her, she had to explain herself again. “It is an old football term. Call it an arrowhead with a wide base, pointed at the enemy, using your far fewer horses than a normal cavalry charge

“Not to engage the enemy,” Marcus said, catching on quickly. “But to push through them, as it were, to divide them and conquer, to force them to the edges of the field and within bowshot.”

“Exactly,” Greta said. “Like a hot knife through butter.” Greta did not like using the expression, but there were reasons why some expressions became clichés.

“I like that,” Marcus said.

“I don’t.” Greta spoke honestly. “But you get the idea.”

“Lady.” Thissle tugged on the skirt of Greta’s armor which hung down just below the knees.

“What?” Greta looked down at her and then looked up when Thissle pointed. The elf wizard, Sunstone and Yin Mo, lord of the knights of the lance were standing near, patiently waiting. “Show yourselves,” Greta said. “What is it? Is there trouble in Usgard?”

Yin Mo and Lord Sunstone appeared as if out of a mist.

“Me, too?” Thissle asked.

Might as well, Greta thought. “Yes, you, too,” she said, and Thissle appeared, though nobody much noticed except Darius who smiled. Gaius and Hersecles were busy for the moment keeping Gunwort from fleeing the room. Marcus, however, appeared fascinated. It was not clear if he stood fascinated by the fact that they were elves, though they looked quite human, or whether he became fascinated by Yin Mo whose features and dress appeared strikingly Asian.

“My lady.” Yin Mo walked up to Greta and dropped to one knee. He took her left hand and placed it on his head. “Goddess. We come on behalf of the knights of the lance.”

Greta went with her impulse, even if it did not sound quite right to her own ears. “They are not happy with the new arrangement for the defense of the land?”

“No, lady.” Lord Sunstone spoke quickly. “They see that as a perfect solution and have organized themselves as a second line of defense which is the perfect work for them given their limited numbers.”

Greta took her hand back. “Stand up, Lord Yin. Stand up and tell me plainly what they want.”

Yin Mo stood and looked once at Lord Sunstone, then he craned to look quickly at the map, and then he spoke. “They want to participate in your battle.”

Greta did not pause. “No. No way.” She sounded firm. “Their vow is to defend Avalon, not fight in a human battle.”

“You are Avalon,” Yin Mo countered.

“But maybe I am supposed to die,” she said. “Defending me might interfere with what is supposed to happen. Besides, I have no intention of being in the battle.”

“But you also wish to defend Lord Marcus and Lord Darius,” Lord Sunstone said.

“Not necessarily. I have no knowledge that either is in danger. The Masters don’t appear to be around, just some old guns. It is just something I wonder when someone of note crosses my path.”

“Who are the knights of the lance?” Darius asked.

“Killing machines,” Thissle said, with a bit of a shiver. Some of the little ones were afraid of the knights.

“You met one,” Greta told Darius. “In my room.”

“He killed the night creatures,” Thissle said.

Darius’ eyes got wide. “You mean there is more than one of him, them?”

“Many more.” Yin Mo said.

“Yes!” Darius got excited. “Two dozen could change the whole complexion of this battle. Marcus, you have to see them.” He almost danced a little jig and Greta wondered if he might temporarily be suffering from elf overload.

“Can I see?” Marcus asked.

“Of course,” Lord Sunstone said, and before Greta could speak, the wizard waved his hand and three knights, horse and all, appeared in the hall looking for all the world like late medieval warriors in full plate armor from the top of their plumed helmet to the tips of their stirrup shoes. Though they were the size and shape of men, there really was no telling what might be inside all of that metal, except that it seemed at least clear that they were marvelous horsemen. Their horses hardly moved at the sudden, shocking change of scenery. The knights tipped their lances to the ground in salute. Each lance had a different ribbon, a red dot, orange waves, a blue lion, and it matched the markings on their helmets and shields. It appeared the only way to tell them apart. Having saluted, then, they dismounted and dropped to one knee before rising to stand at attention, while Thissle hid behind Greta’s legs.

R5 Greta: Connecting the Dots, part 1 of 3

September 24, 2018September 3, 2018M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“Thissle!” Greta saw the little one and wondered what she was doing there. She was invisible, so in no immediate danger from the men in the room, but still…

“Gods you’re beautiful,” Darius said. It took a moment for Greta to realize he was talking about her.

“I am not,” she said. “Have you been here all night?”

“Yes he has. Just about,” Thissle said.

Darius recovered himself. “Nice outfit.”

“What, this old thing?” Greta joked, but when he laughed she rebuked herself. She was not going to play lovers games with him. “All right, Thissle.” She turned her back on Darius. “What is this all about? Why are you here?”

“You see?” Greta heard Darius interrupt.

“I see, but I don’t believe it.” The Roman guard answered in Greek.

“Agreed.” The Dacian also knew some Greek.

Greta knew what they were talking about. Thissle stayed invisible after all. “Do you want to see?”

“No Mother.” The Dacian responded quickly and in Dacian.

The Roman sounded more thoughtful. “If Lord Darius has not been talking to himself all night, I really do not want to know it.” Berry laughed and started to hand him a tart.

“No!” Greta jumped. “That’s fairy food,” and to the Dacian she said, “Food of the elves.” The Roman politely said, “No thank you,” and stepped back while Greta closed the door to Usgard above Midgard, and let it dissipate and disappear. Darius asked the guards if they would rather wait outside, and they readily agreed. But Berry had not finished. She offered a tart to Darius who examined it carefully, and sniffed it.

“Is it safe?” Darius asked.

“It’s too late for you,” Greta answered. “You might as well enjoy it.” At which point he took a bite and lost himself in contented munching sounds. “Well?” Greta turned again to Thissle, confident that this time she would not be interrupted.

“Well, Lady.” Thissle curtsied. “Thorn and I were awakened around sundown by the sound of a whole army setting up to camp beside the road.”

“Thorn?” Greta asked.

“Yes, it’s just Thorn, now, if you please,” Thissle said. “And, well, we did not know if they were goods or bads, so we thought we had better come and warn you. He knows all the ways, you know. Forwards and backs and overs and unders. We got here around midnight, I guess, and my Thorn found us all the way to your room.”

“The legion is still a day and a half away,” Darius interjected.

“My Lord thinks so, but Thorn and I think it is more like two days the way they move so slow and all,” Thissle continued. “But then when we got here, you were not here, but the door was, so we figured out where you were.”

“You figured it out, Miss Thissle,” Darius said. “I heard you say she’s gone to Avalon.”

Thissle reddened a bit and turned to Darius. “It was a lucky guess, is all,” she said. “But then came the real surprise. You saw us plain as day, you did.” She turned back to Greta. “Thorn said to stand still and quiet and maybe he just saw a glimpse or heard something like the wind, but he walked right up to us and he said we had better come right in and tell him who we were, he said, “My lady will want to know why you have come, but she won’t be back until morning.”

“I could go fetch her,” Thorn said, but my lord blocked his way.

“No, she said I was the only one to fetch her if she needed to be fetched.” And as the doorway was closed, there wasn’t much else we could do except sit down and explain ourselves. Lord Darius caught on real quick. He knew we were invisible to the guards, but he just ignored them and talked free as if he did not care if they thought he was crazy. We told him all about the army and he figured out from some of the things we said that it was his seventh legion. So he got a paper and wrote some words, and then took Thorn to wake up his friend Marcus so Marcus could put his seal on the paper. Then Thorn is up and gone to take this message to General Pontius, and my Lord is back here to keep me company all night.” Greta looked at Darius and she did not give him a soft look.

“I outlined the situation here with a note that we might be able to hold them for a day, but once they broke into the city, they would be fortified and able to mount a real defense. Then it would be impossible to dislodge them except at great expense.”

“How could you do that to Thorn?” she asked. “He will be in as much danger with you Romans as he would be with the Quadi. Do you trust this General not to stick him in a cage and do—who knows what?” Out of deference to Thissle, she did not suggest that the General might roast him for supper.

Darius nodded thoughtfully. “General Pontius is a true believer. He would not dare hurt Thorn, especially since Marcus wrote at the top of the letter, if you hurt one quill on my little friend, I will have you crucified.” Darius seemed to think that would answer everything.

“My Lady.” Thissle spoke innocently, but out of turn. “You must love him very much for him to have such authority to see us invisible and all. And here, you are only betrothed and not even properly married and all.”

Greta felt embarrassed, and with her fair skin that became easy to see. It made her freckles stand out and that felt even more embarrassing. “I don’t,” she lied. “This wedding was not my idea.”

“Well it wasn’t mine, either.” Darius shot right back.

“But you’re a soldier, and a loyal Roman,” she said, sharply. “What do you want with a wife?”

“Look at you, wise woman.” He also returned her tone. “With all of your little ones and every man and woman of the Dacians doting on your every word, what need do you have for a husband? What am I? Just some burden you have to bear.”

“What do the Dacians matter? I suppose you will want to live in Rome.”

“I thought about it,” he answered honestly.

“Well, you can forget it. I’ll never be your submissive, obedient little wife to stay at home with the servants, cooking and cleaning your villa so you can run off to your Roman lover.”

Darius gave her a hard look. “That’s not fair. I never asked you to cook or clean. You never asked what I want, so don’t start putting words in my mouth.”

“You said yourself that you wanted that Roman woman.”

“That’s not fair, either. I haven’t even thought of her for almost a month. But what about that lover boy of yours?”

“He’s a jerk,” Greta said, in all honestly, and with a bit more softness in her voice.

“And she never answered any of my letters.” He also softened his response. “It was all one sided. She may even be married by now.”

“So, where does that leave us?” Greta asked.

“Where we started, I guess,” he answered.

“Ahem!” Berry interrupted. “My Lord Darius, I mean, Darius, would you make an escort for me and Hans to visit my sister, Fae?”

“I can do that, Berry,” Darius said. He still looked at Greta but took Berry’s hand.

“Wait.” Greta stopped them. She stood on her toes and planted a quick kiss on Darius’ lips. Then she stepped away and looked down. “I’ll see you in the hall.” She could not tell the expression on his face. She could not bring herself to look up at him.

“I’ll see you at breakfast.” He touched her hair, but she still would not look at him. She did hear Berry, however, as they left.

“I hope me and Hans don’t have to say those things. I could never ‘member all that.”

Greta looked at Thissle and almost laughed. “You love him and he loves you,” Thissle said. “You humans are the strangest creatures in all creation.”

Greta did laugh, and she also cried, smiled and sniffed. “I do love him, you know. I tried calling him the enemy and the oppressor of my people and whatever awful thing I could think of, but he is all I can think of no matter what I do.”

“Not like my Thorn,” Thissle said. “We spent a hundred years, hardly able to touch each other, praying that we would find you, and praying that you would help us when we did. And you did help us. But then there is you. Lady, all you need to do is help yourself. He is already as much yours as anyone can be.”

Could she really give up her friends, her family, her home? Could she really be a Roman wife and not feel a traitor to her own people? “But if I help myself, I might be…” She started to speak her thoughts but they all sounded hollow and foolish.

“Might be what?” Thissle asked rhetorically. “Might be happy? Yes, you might.” She answered herself.

“Hear hear!” An echo came from the statuette. Greta had forgotten about Madwick and the others, covered as they were under the cloth she brought, but they had been privy to everything. Greta pulled down the cloth. “Please to make your acquaintance, Miss Thissle.” Lord Burns popped his head out. Greta had to introduce them all, but then she reminded them that they were supposed to be a dead idol, and she covered them again, picked them up carefully and headed toward the Great Hall.

R5 Greta: And Back Again, part 3 of 3

September 19, 2018September 2, 2018M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Berry thought about calling Greta by her given name. “Oh, no. I couldn’t do that.”

“I am Han’s sister,” she reminded her. “And if you marry Hans, that will make me your sister, too. Call me Greta.”

“You mean, I have your permission to marry Hans?” She got excited.

“I said “If,” Greta said, but then she had some insight as to how it would look. When Hans became a man of eighteen, Berry would still look thirteen. Even if Hans should live to be seventy, Berry would still only look fifteen or at most sixteen. She would have to think about that.

This time Berry got quiet, so Greta completed her earlier thought. “Calling me lady makes me feel so old. Call me Greta. I’m not that old. Or maybe Lady Greta, as I said.”

“Oh, Lady Greta.” Berry turned suddenly serious. “He loves you so very much. I wish Hans loved me like that.”

“Darius?” Greta asked. Berry nodded. “I wish.”

“But he does. I can tell,” Berry insisted.

“No sweet,” Greta countered. “He will do his duty to Marcus and Rome. He is a soldier. Marcus just wants to make sure my father stays loyal to Rome, that’s all. It is all political, and besides, I think he really loves someone else.”

“No way,” Berry said. “He looks at you with zombie eyes.”

“Zombie eyes?”

“That’s what Mab calls it. It means he has no will of his own.”

Greta laughed at her own thought. She made a spooky face. “Resistance is futile,” she monotoned. Berry laughed, too, but Greta knew Berry had no idea to what she referred. They indulged a little in the breakfast sweets.

“The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts, all on a summer’s day,” Greta said, absentmindedly.

“I know that story.” Berry perked up. “Were you the Queen of Hearts?”

Greta laughed again. “No, sweet,” she said. She remembered, though she was not sure which life she lived at the time. She decided it did not matter. “Aphrodite.” She named the Queen of Hearts. “She made them for Hephaestos on their two or three thousandth anniversary or something. Cupid stole them. Hephaestos found out, and let’s just say Cupid promised never to do that again.”

Berry’s eyes got big. “Lady goddess. You shouldn’t tell me stories like that if you want me to call you Greta.”

“Don’t worry,” Greta said. “Take me out of Usgard and the company of my little ones, and you will see. Even as the woman of the ways, I have very little real magic. Hardly any at all. You will see how human and mortal I really am, and it won’t be a problem calling me just plain Greta.”

“Hans called you Gretal once, like you were just a baby.” Berry giggled, and tried to picture Greta as a baby.

“Oh, he did, did he?” She pretended to be upset. “Hansel!” Berry giggled again, and Greta thought Berry had better grow up some. Sixty years of that little girl giggle would drive anyone crazy. “Time to go.’

“Oh, wait.” Berry got little and flew around the room, touched everything and did several back flips and fancy dives along the way. When she flew real fast, she even left a little fairy trail, though only light, without the sparkles. It appeared a meager thing, but a true sign of her quarter blood. Then she settled on her feet again.

“Mab was nice,” Berry said, and Greta knew they would never be the best of friends. “But she was not impressed until she found out I had a twin sister.” Greta nodded. Twins were a very special thing in the spirit world. “We looked at her twice in the Pool of Reys, and once in the Looking Glass, but she was always sleeping.” Greta nodded again.

“Time to go,” she repeated herself.

“But can we come back again?” Berry quickly asked.

“Someday,” Greta said, and then she tried to explain that two days and three nights had gone by on Usgard, while back home the same night they left just came to a close. Berry did not understand, so Greta concluded by saying, “That was why Fae was always sleeping when you spied on her.”

“We didn’t spy. Not really,” Berry said, even while she realized that spying was exactly what she had been doing.

“Well anyway,” Greta said. “It will all straighten out when we get there. I want you and Hans with a troop of guards to go over and visit Fae, and stay there.” Greta decided that if there was going to be a battle, they would be safest where they could hide in the woods if need be. It also seemed one way to keep them all out of her hair for a while. She would be busy.

Greta picked up her statuette and examined it closely. The dolphin had its’ mouth open to sing. The bear reared up and roaring. The cat had a roar of its’ own going, and the horse, standing on the rest, looked still. Greta pushed gently on the horse’s tail and the horse reared up and its’ nostrils flared. She opened the window. “All right.” She thought to the distant sprites, and four dashes of light penetrated each of the four animals. Greta thought to try the contraption once more. She pushed down. The horse reared up and a young fire sprite named Scorch stuck his head out of the horse’s nostrils and eyes.

“Fancy cigarette lighter.” Greta called it. “Be good. Be careful,” she told them all.

“All set.” The hollow echo of their voices came back.

The eastern horizon started getting bright at last. The sun looked moments from rising. Greta raised her hand, and the door appeared right there in the room. She opened it and saw Darius jump up from the floor. The guards he had posted, one Dacian and one Roman, stepped up, drew their swords and peeked around the door to be sure there were no more beasts in the other room.

Greta stepped through with the statue and Berry followed with a handful of tarts.

************************

MONDAY

Returning from the rarefied atmosphere of Avalon is just the first step. Greta needs to find out how things are progressing. Where is the legion? How many germanic Quadi invaders have shown up? And what do the Romans plan to do about the rebels fortified on the temple mount? And what about the guns?… Monday, Connecting the Dots.

Until then, Happy Reading

R5 Greta: And Back Again, part 2 of 3

September 18, 2018September 2, 2018M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Greta looked up to see her escort of friends and the craftsmen waiting patiently. They all stared at her, and she knew why. With each thought, she had been a different person of the Kairos. She had been a different Traveler and without even realizing it. She became Greta again, but she imagined the whole process had been something to watch. It seemed something to experience. She never skipped a beat in her thought processes. It felt like she was only one person doing all of that thinking, which, of course, she was, regardless of who she appeared to be, outwardly.

“Master Burns,” she said. “I need four fire sprites for a dangerous mission. I cannot guarantee survival, so it must be purely voluntary. If there are not four, I will understand.” She outlined her problem and her plan to the craftsmen, and when she finished, Lord Madwick answered her.

“No problem with volunteers,” he said. “Far too many, I would imagine.” That settled things.

Greta made Berry come home for supper, even though Berry protested, vigorously. She made Berry get big and get into her own bed to sleep. Berry whined her teenage best, but barely hit the pillow before she fell fast asleep. It had been a long, tiring day.

Greta spent a little time trying to imagine what her confrontation with Lady Brunhild might be like, but soon enough, she too slept, and she rested.

In the morning, Berry had gone. It took no insight to realize that she got up in the middle of the night and snuck out to frolic with her new friends under the moon.

That morning, Greta had a bite to eat in her room, and then she sat in the tub long enough to wizzle her toes while several elf maids made a fuss over her. They painted her nails, trimmed her brows, fixed her hair, even added some fairy braids, and fixed her face just so. Greta tried the mirror. The elfs could do magic on nearly anything, but even they could not make her beautiful. There did not seem to be much they could do about her freckles, either, so she stretched her fairy cloth to cover her shoulders and shaped it until it resembled the style of dresses she felt used to wearing. She did indulge herself a little by making the dress conform a bit to her young figure rather than let it fall in the frumpy, one-size-fits-all pattern of her people. She was just seventeen after all, even if she would soon be an old married woman. She reminded herself that she had no room left in her life for childhood. She was the woman of the ways. She was a goddess to her little ones. She was the Traveler in Time, the Watcher over History, and the Dacians got guns, and the Romans wanted them. When she finally left her room, she felt older than time.

Lunch could have been an all-day affair, but Greta’s statuette got ready by one and she went immediately to examine the handiwork. It proved very hard metal, and fireproof, and yet Greta thought it would have been extremely light if they had not studded it with gold and bits of emeralds, rubies and diamonds. She decided it appeared a bit ostentacious, but then again, that might make it acceptable to Lady Brunhild. She struck Greta as the kind of woman who went in for that sort of thing. She felt sure at least the Priest, Vasen would appreciate it.

Greta toured another couple of guard posts in the afternoon. Greta noticed that each home for a sprite in each place looked different. The craftsmen kept trying to make things appear as natural as possible and not make it appear as if they were guard posts at all. For the water sprites, for example, one place had a fountain, a second, a simple fish pond and a third, a bubbling spring. Greta praised the work. She knew that would be important to hear praise from their goddess. She felt glad it was easy to do.

During their last supper on Usgard, Berry yawned the whole time. Greta said she had to stay and sleep that night because they would be leaving very early in the morning. Berry did not think that would be a problem. She remained more human than not, after all, and her human side started catching up to her. She said her good-byes to Mab and her friends while Greta said good-bye to the assembly. Then they went to bed and slept very well.

The elf maids woke up Greta around four in the morning. They seemed to delight in fixing her hair, her face, and helping her dress. Greta thought she still looked exceptionally ordinary, but it could not be helped. She thanked the ladies and got ready to wake Berry, when Mrs. Kettleblack came banging in.

“Breakfast,” she announced in a very loud voice, and Berry sat straight up. “I got pastries and sweet tarts this morning,” Mrs. Kettleblack said. She did not mean to be loud. It was just her normal way. Honestly, she did not know any other way.

“Morning?” Berry mumbled. “It’s still dark out.” That was not strictly true. The eastern horizon showed a touch of light.

“Can’t leave on an empty stomach.” Mrs. Kettleblack finished her speech.

“Thank you Mrs. Kettleblack,” Greta said, and the old dwarf laughed and shooed everyone out of the room. Greta and Berry got left alone.

“These sweet tarts are good, Lady,” Berry said.

Greta looked at her while she took one to try.

“What?” Berry asked at last. She did not appear comfortable being stared at. The truth, however, was Greta was still not quite awake herself. She stared at nothing in particular

“You have to stay big, now, when we go back,” Greta said.

“I know, Lady,” Berry said. “As big as my Hans.”

That brought something to mind. “Berry, sweet. It won’t do to call me lady anymore, unless you say Lady Greta.” She paused. She didn’t even know Darius’ family name.

Berry spoke into the silence. “But Lady Kairos. I have to call you something, and everyone knows you don’t like to be called goddess.”

“So just call me Greta,” she said.

R5 Greta: And Back Again, part 1 of 3

September 17, 2018September 2, 2018M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Greta stood. “I am sorry this refuge is not also the sanctuary I intended. In truth, I am only human.” She paused while there were nods and smiles all around. This had been what they wanted. They all knew it when they picked her, and the Ancient gods in concert anointed her for this work, to watch over the little spirits of the earth. They wanted a god who routinely got old and had to let go of life. They did not want an immortal over them. Being mortal themselves, they wanted someone who knew what it would be like when that time came.

Greta placed her hand on Berry’s hand. “I will speak with the craftsmen. There may be a way, and thank you all.” She hugged Thumbelin as a symbolic hug for them all. Then she turned to Berry who sat quiet and big eyed.

“What did you like best?” She whispered.

Berry licked her lips. “The Wafflies,” she said. “And the Apple Cinammons.”

“Me, too,” Greta said, though in truth she thought it all tasted splendid. “Thumbelin.” Greta spoke up. “Is Mab here?” Thumbelin nodded and pointed to the children’s table. “My, she is quite grown,” Greta remarked.

“Nearly fifty,” Thumbelin said.

Greta called Mab to the table. “Get little,” she told Berry. Mab appeared shy in Greta’s presence. She stood on the table with her head down. Berry, who had only known Thistle as a fairy, felt quite taken with the girl. She immediately went to stand beside Mab. Berry stood taller, of course, partly because she was older and partly because she had so much human in her, but Mab glowed beside her with true blood fairy magic.

“Will you take Berry as a friend and show her Usgard?” Greta asked.

“Lady.” Mab curtsied as well as she could, but did not do a very good job of it.

“Stay on this island. Don’t go to the other islands,” Greta added.

“And no tricksies.” Thumbelin instructed her daughter. “Or anything like tricksies.”

“Be good to my Berry, please dear Mab.”

Mab looked at a pensive Berry from beneath her hair. Suddenly, she sprang out and took Berry’s hand. “I will,” Mab said, and to Berry she added, “Come on.” They took to the air. “You won’t believe the strawberry field, and the high mountain slides, and the cascade pools for swims.” And they were through the window, followed by a host of other young sprites.

“I worry about her,” Greta breathed.

“She will be fine,” Thumbelin said. “Mab may be headstrong, but she is true to her word. And I am sure your brother will be a very lucky man.”

“Your majesty is kind,” Greta told Thumbelin, but really, at that moment, Greta felt worried mostly about herself. She felt no closer to knowing what to do about the guns than she had before she came.

“It was my goddess who gave me a heart and taught me what loving-kindness was all about.” Thumbelin found a tear, and Greta found one as well. Once again, Greta felt she got far more out of the relationship than she could ever possibly give.

At the craftsman’s they made a lamp, a bubbling fountain and a wind catcher which is sometimes called a dreamcatcher. They went out to the nearest portal and set them up. Then they built a guardhouse underground. Greta’s became concerned for the comfort of her little ones who might volunteer for the hazardous duty. The craftsmen, however, were far more concerned with tricks and traps and every devious thing they could think of to catch and hold any possible creature or spirit from a three-day-old human to a near god. Greta sighed. The year was only around 145 AD, and henceforth, every road to Avalon would be heavily guarded. Even Lord Sunstone, the elf wizard who spoke for the knights of the lance, offered his every last ounce of magic if needed to secure Avalon, the seven isles and the innumerable isles beyond.

Greta looked at the next set of homes. They were a pool of water, small wind chimes to blow in the wind, and a lantern on a short pole. Greta spent a long time considering the lantern. She would never risk a fire sprite in the open, but they could certainly explode Kunther, or rather, Lady Brunhild’s plans.

“Trojan horse.” The words came to her, and she caught a glimpse of a man, a life she did not know. Diomedes. She lived his life among the Greeks at Troy. The image faded, but the Princess and Diogenes picked up the notion and repeated the words with certainty.

“An idol. A peace offering for the Temple on the Mount,” said the Princess.

“Something cast of the strongest metal with air holes and a charcoal center to sustain the sprites for a day or two if necessary,” Diogenes suggested.

“A bear for the Nameless god of the Dacians,” Nameless said.

“A cat of the mountains for Danna and the Celts,” Danna thought.

“Salacia’s dolphin for the Romans,” Salacia added.

“But then it needs something on top, something over all to represent the unity of the three.” Bodanagus said, being no stranger to bringing the houses of the gods together. Gerraint and FestusCato shared the answer.

“A horse.”

“A horse to rear up.”

“A horse whose nostrils flare when it rears up.”

“But the horse might give it away.”

“But the horse is the right choice.”

“But can they survive?” Doctor Mishka always considered possible injury.

“Attach a string to Avalon so the whole contraption will be hurled home.” Those words came from the storyteller.

“Can I do that?” Greta wondered.

R5 Greta: Usgard Above Midgard, part 3 of 3

September 12, 2018August 30, 2018M G Kizzia Leave a comment

By long standing tradition, meals were not to wait the arrival of the Kairos. In fact, little of daily life changed when she was present, so little changed when she was absent, which became most of the time. All the same, Mrs. Kettleblack who had been cooking for the Kairos for nearly five hundred years, banged her wooden spoon on the urn when Greta came in, and everyone rose, including Lord Gotlieb, though he rose with two handfuls of food. Still, he rose because he knew if he did not, Mrs. Kettleblack would have banged her spoon on his head.

Poor Mrs. Kettleblack, Greta thought. The dwarf looked like she aged, and Greta felt sorry that even in the rarified atmosphere of the second heavens, her little ones still did not live forever.

“Buffett this morning.” Mrs. Kettleblack announced. “But any of my poppins will be glad to fetch. Just be askin’ and we’ll be getting’.” She pointed to a special place which had been set aside for Berry. Berry looked at her and Greta thought a moment. She decided, no.

“Get big, please, Berry,” Greta said. Berry paused to look around. She had never seen so many full blooded, special little ones in her life. She got big. She felt very human and thought she might as well look it. “She had better sit beside me this morning,” Greta concluded. The place at Greta’s right hand was empty at the moment.

“Good morning.” Thumbelin said, as they sat down.

“Good morning Thumbelin,” Greta said, and then she added, “Good morning,” generally to the crowd. Most responded, except a few, like Gotleib who had just stuffed his mouth full of eggs and sausage.

“Good morning sweet Berry,” Thumbelin added.

“Morning,” Berry said. She got distracted, watching the young lady elves who looked like glittering young children of light. They fixed plates for her and Greta with a little of everything, and they watched her, too, and giggled.

“For all of the magic that gave her little wings, she is still three-quarters human,” Greta explained.

“Oh, my sweet dear,” Thumbelin said, in a very sympathetic voice. “That must be very hard for you, but I am sure it is a good thing, too. Good will happen. You will see.”

The two plates were delivered while Gotleib and an ogre Prince jostled for position in line so they could get twelfths. Greta looked away, glad that the ogres had their own corner of the room, out of sight of most. She did not want to look at one while she ate, and did not want to watch one eat.

“But you have the same things I have,” Berry said, which took Greta’s attention, and Greta thought she should explain.

“You see, Berry, I have never been here before, myself. The last time I was here I was someone else.”

“Sheik Ali.” The Lord of the Rainclouds spoke up. “And a fascinating gentleman he was. I never knew much about the desert before, but now I see it is an intriguing world all its own, full of wonders and life.”

“Exactly,” Thumbelin brought things back to the point. “But we have not seen our lord, now lady in twenty years.”

“But you got the same as mine,” Berry said, being very one tracked.

“But I have never tasted any of this before,” Greta said. “Not with these taste buds. I know what Ali liked, but I might not like the same things.”

“Uh-huh,” Berry said. She did not really understand, but by then she got busy sampling.

“She is sweet,” Thumbelin remarked.

“Uh-huh,” Greta responded in the midst of her own sampling. Then she thought to say more. “Barring an unforeseen accident, she will probably end up my sister-in-law. I worry about her.”

Thumbelin and several others gave knowing smiles and nods. “I thought it might be something like that,” Thumbelin confessed.

There were private conversations after that, but finally, when breakfast was nearly over, Lord Madwick could wait no longer.

“Lady Kairos, forgive this impatient spirit, but now that you have come we must do something about these unlawful intrusions into the realm. With all due respect, the knights of the lance simply cannot be everywhere at all times.” He sat down.

“What he means.” Lord Burns spoke without standing up. “The fire sprites are ready to guard all of the portals at your request. There are more than enough volunteers to cover all known ways.”

“The ethereal spirits who have kindly taken the lance are insufficient in number.” Lord Deepwell of the dark elves confirmed.

Greta looked around the room. It was full of kings and queens, but these were not the rich and powerful as they would have been in a human assembly. Instead, these made a righteous gathering as each of these spirits came acclaimed by their people as worthy to represent them in their affairs. Greta felt she did not come to Usgard often enough, but then, she always felt that way.

“My Lady.” Lord Zephyrus spoke. “Do not think the children of the winds and the sprites of the sky are less serious about helping, even if the fire burns hottest.

“My Lady.” Lord Shoals spoke. “Waters surround our home. We are disappointed with ourselves. Ours is the first line. Ought to be enough. We wish to do enough.”

“Lady Corallion?” Greta asked hoping she would explain what her husband just said.

“We want to help make Avalon safe, too,” she said.

“Us, too.” Princess Burntbottom spoke up from the ogre table. The unfortunate child got born some sixty-six years earlier, during the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. Of course, as an ogre, she wore her disfigurement as a badge of honor.

“And us.” Everyone else chimed in, and Greta had to hold up her hands for silence.

“Lady Kairos.” The deep and eerie voice caused a hush. It was Lord Darkvein, the goblin king. “All of your people wish to help. It is gracious of you to provide this place of refuge and peace for us all. The least we can do is help defend it from demons, unwanted.”

“It is decided,” Thumbelin said softly, and Greta frowned. It got decided, as usual, without her having any say in the matter.

************************

MONDAY

Th visit to Avalon is not over, but at some point, Greta knows she and Berry will have to return to Ravenshold, and reality.

Next Week, look for “And Back Again”, same blog, same website. Until then, Happy Reading

R5 Greta: Usgard Above Midgard, part 2 of 3

September 11, 2018August 30, 2018M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Berry became enchanted by the softest lawn, the brightest stars and most glorious moon she ever knew. The trauma of the last few minutes went completely from her mind. Greta turned to the knight who was in truth a knight, like something out of the latter Middle Ages, in full plate armor so that no flesh or anything else showed. She knew immediately that the knights of the lance never spoke, so she voiced her thought. “Thank you.” And then she realized that she knew a lot of things that Greta never knew.

Greta looked up toward the castle on the hill. It was her tradition to enter the castle across the lawn and through the main gate to give the little ones inside time to prepare. “Huh!” She said to herself, but it felt like a comfortable word, not a curious one. She felt more herself than she ever felt before, and she decided that in Usgard, she became more the Kairos, her true self that lived again and again, than any individual, given life, even though she remained the Traveler Greta more than any other Traveler. “Huh!” She said again, and she called for Branworth.

Branworth appeared nearby as she began to walk toward the castle, Berry in her train, and escorted by the remounted knight.

“Lady Kairos.” Branworth bowed. “The knights of the lance have made wonderful progress in guarding the borders, but as you see, even they have not been entirely successful.”

“I would not call the front lawn before the Castle successful at all,” Greta said.

“No, my lady. You are right,” Branworth admitted. “But the knights are not nearly as numerous as the ways in and out of the land and the isles. Since the cracks developed in the days of young Lydia’s difficulties, at the time of dissolution of the gods, even their sleepless vigil is not enough to guard all ways at all times.”

“So I see,” she said. And she did see. She did not condemn the effort being made. Rather, Greta sounded grateful, and felt rather inadequate to guard even her small charge; to give the little ones a safe haven from the world. “We will work on it, Master Branworth,” she said. “We will figure something out.”

Greta stepped up to the castle gate and felt overawed by the enormous size and complexity of the structure, even if she knew it as a small thing compared to the Great Hall of Valhallah, the Hall of Odin, or the home of her mother, the goddess Vrya. That is to say, Nameless’ mother.

“Lady Kairos.” Thimbelin arrived and she curtsied slightly. Greta greeted her friend with a hug and a yawn. She passed pleasantries with the Queen of the Fairies before she excused herself for the night. She apologized to the fire sprites, Madwick and Burns, and said their concerns would have to wait until morning. Then she led Berry to her own rooms where the mistress elves had already made up two scrumptious beds. They had fairy cloth laid out, and Greta slipped into hers, grew it with a thought to a full-length nightgown and colored it pink before changing it to blue.

Berry spent a great deal of time in front of the full-length mirror, stretching and shaping her own clothes. She changed the colors and tried dozens of patterns before she ended up very much where she began. “It’s just no good,” she complained. “I don’t have any shape. No matter what I do, I still look like a stick.”

“You’ll have shape soon enough.” Greta laughed as she curled up in bed, while Berry curled up on the window sill. “Don’t stay up,” she said. “Tomorrow will be a busy day.”

“But I want to have as much of the land of wonder as I can before we go home.” Berry said.

“Don’t worry.” Greta yawned once again. “There is time enough. There is time.” And she fell fast asleep.

Time under the second heavens, like everything else, is a relative matter. They stayed two days and three nights in Usgard and Greta insisted that when they went home it would be the very next morning of the night they left, as she more or less promised Darius. From the first morning, however, Greta felt rested and refreshed, like she came home at last. She imagined no other word for it.

At some point in the night, Berry curled her small self up on the pillow next to Greta’s pillow and completely ignored the bed which had been made up just for her. Presently, she was lying on her face with her knees pulled up and her little butt sticking straight up. Greta could not resist taking her finger and knocking her over. Berry sat up. Her wings fluttered while she rubbed her eyes.

“I’m not awake yet,” she protested. “Do I have to get up?”

“Yes, sweet,” Greta said. “It’s time for school.”

“School?” Berry’s eyes got big for a second before she snuggled down deep into the pillow. “I can’t go to school today,” she said. “I feel sicky.” She pretended to sleep some more, while Greta got up and looked in the mirror. She needed that bath and the time to wash and dry her hair; but then she did not want to keep Mrs. Kettleblack and all of the others waiting, especially on the first morning. The sun had already gotten up and that seemed late enough.

Greta went to the mirror and shaped her fairy cloth into a plain brown dress such as she might have worn at home. Then she decided that she was only seventeen, so she shortened the dress to knee length, then shorter, and got it as short as pixie length, and almost as tight.

“Too muchy,” Berry said, and made a face. Greta sighed. She made plain shorts and a simple T, with sandals for her feet.

“Ready for breakfast?” She asked quickly before Berry made her wear something ultra-boring.

“Breakfast?” Berry fluttered up and hovered about two feet above the pillow. “I thought we were going back.”

“Not just yet,” Greta said. “I think we will stay a while.”

Berry zipped around the room in excitement and then followed Greta out the door.

R5 Greta: Usgard Above Midgard, part 1 of 3

September 10, 2018August 30, 2018M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Greta went to the city that evening, escorted by Sergeant Gaius and an honor guard of Romans and Dacians. They had a feast in the banquet hall of the Roman fort. Fae stayed with her people at the outpost, but Hans went with his sister. He felt well recovered, being young, and since he went, naturally Berry went too. Greta did not even have to insist.

Greta thought she ate less than Berry, and considering the size of Berry’s true stomach was smaller than a thimble, that said something. Hans, on the other hand, got his old appetite back. He ate with both hands, and Berry had a wonderful time feeding him.

The men argued about what to do. In a way, it felt like being back in the village of the Bear Clan. Greta’s headache did not feel improved by it at all.

Marcus looked up at her, concerned a little by her silence. “Tell me, wise woman, what is your opinion on these matters?”

Greta just looked at him. She suddenly felt very tired, and she yawned to prove it.

“Come now,” Marcus said. “You came all this way and risked your life to cross the forest. Surely you had a reason. You must have something to contribute.”

“Sleep,” Greta said. “There won’t be anything decided tonight that you won’t still be arguing about in the morning. I intend to get a good night’s rest and take a fresh look at it all in the morning. Berry.” She stood.

“Oh, please,” Berry said. “One more potato.”

Hans pushed back from the table. “No, I could not eat another bite,” he said, and Berry put down her potato, only a little disappointed.

“Hans, you need to get to bed, too,” Greta said.

Hans paused to look around the room, and then with an annoying tongue he said, “Yes, mother.” The men laughed. Greta frowned, but Hans got up and followed without further protest.

There were rooms prepared for them in the fort. Berry would be staying with Greta. Hans would stay with Darius. Berry had spent her own time in tears earlier in the afternoon, because four years was forever. Perhaps because she had been worn so thin, when they reached their room, Berry curled up and went right to sleep. Greta cleaned up, and then sat and thought and thought. As tired as she felt, her mind would not let her rest.

It may have been as late as ten or eleven o’clock when she woke Berry. Berry sat up, rubbed the sleepies from her eyes, and waited patiently for Greta to speak.

“Berry,” she asked. “How do we get to Usgard?”

“My Lady knows the road to Avalon, certainly,” Berry said. “I tried to find my way once, but all I did was get lost.”

Greta knew of Usgard, of course. She knew all about it if she cared to think about it, but in some ways, it seemed like encyclopedic knowledge, lacking any real substance, and that being the case, it felt almost equally true to say she knew nothing about Avalon. She knew she had to go there, but she felt reluctant to go alone, uncertain of what they would find once they arrived. “Will you go with me?” She asked.

“Yes.” Berry spoke with evident excitement. She grabbed Greta’s hand and said, “Let’s go.”

It would not be that easy, Greta thought. Then again, maybe it would. Greta and Berry stood and Greta simply raised her hand. A doorway slowly formed at the back of the room by the window. It took a moment to come into focus and solidify. Greta looked once at Berry before she reached out and opened the door.

Berry screamed. Greta screamed. Two creatures attacked. It took a few moments for them to cross the open lawn which appeared on the other side of the doorway. They could see them clearly in the moonlight, and did not doubt their intentions. These were not like guard dogs. They were not Greta’s creatures. They did not belong there. In retrospect, Greta should have closed the door, but at the time she stayed too busy screaming. Another panic situation. Even so, she saw the horseman in the distance, but feared he might be too far away to do anything.

The first creature leapt and Berry and Greta separated so it landed between them. It turned immediately on Berry, but that became a mistake. For the second time, Greta felt a power beyond reckoning surge through her. She felt a bit like she had when, as Salacia, she stood in the eye of the hurricane. She discharged. The first creature collapsed and gave off the distinct smell of ozone and burnt fur.

The second creature hesitated. It looked at Greta as if trying to remember something, or trying to figure something out. It took too long. It had to turn because the horseman came upon it. It growled an unearthly growl and leapt, but the horseman had a lance and knew his weapon well. He caught the creature dead center, pushed through the door by his momentum and pinned the creature to the far wall, even as the bedroom door crashed open. Hans ducked. Darius said something, but Greta could not hear. He had a sword in his hand as did the dismounted horseman. They made sure of both the creature on the floor and the one against the wall, then the knight went to one knee before his mistress. Greta looked away for most of the time. Berry, cradled in her arms, still screamed. Then Greta moved suddenly, before she changed her mind. She grabbed the knight by the arm and dragged Berry behind and through the door.

She turned to look at Darius. “If you need me before morning, you can come fetch me, but only you. No, Hans. You must not come.” She closed the door and left the facsimile of an actual door on the other side.

R5 Greta: The Way Things Are, part 3 of 3

September 5, 2018August 28, 2018M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“My lord.” Berry interrupted. “If you are going to marry my lady, it is important that I do what you say. That makes you our lord, and all of us need to pay attention to what you say.”

“All of us?” Darius asked. Greta took his arm again and turned him back toward the tents.

“I have a kind of special relationship with the little ones,” she said. “It is kind of hard to explain.” And she tried to explain as well as she could, doing everything in her power to avoid using the word, “goddess.” She ended by begging him not to tell anyone, especially Marcus. “I know you and Marcus grew up together and you are very close, but I would be so afraid that Marcus might take advantage of them and they might end up slaves, or worse.”

“Marcus wouldn’t,” he assured her. “But don’t worry. I won’t say a thing. This will be our little secret known only by you, me and Berry.”

They heard a wild party going on in the tent. Baggins beat the drums and Fidget stroked his fiddle. The visible Hobknot danced a jig and Fae clapped delightedly to the rhythm. Gaius stood by the door, also clapping, while Hersecles both clapped and tapped his feet. Vilam kept bobbing up and down, keeping time. Vedix and Cecil circled arm in arm like a couple of hicks at a square dance, while Marcus, worst of all, looked doubled up on the ground, laughing so hard he appeared to be in pain.

“Baggins!” The drums stopped beating. “Fidget!” The fiddler stopped fiddling. “Hobknot!” Greta did not sound happy. “Right here, right now!” The little ones vanished and reappeared instantly outside the tent. “You call that staying invisible?” Greta turned on Hobknot.

“They were just passing by,” Hobknot said. Even Darius rolled his eyes as he picked up on the fact that “Just passing by” was ten or twelve miles away. “And I figured one more wouldn’t matter,” Hobknot went on. “There’s plenty of humans that think we all look alike, anyway. Besides.” He played his hole card. “I haven’t been paid yet.”

“How would you like no teeth and have to mush the grain and take it through a straw?” she asked.

“Oh Lady, you wouldn’t,” Hobknot protested.

“Miss Fae is a frail, old woman,” Greta pleaded. “I need someone with a brain to watch over her and tell me if I am needed. You claim to have a brain.”

Hobknot quickly changed the subject. “Who’s the beef?”

“Lord Darius is my betrothed,” Greta said and reached for his hand though she did not really focus on Darius.

“Oh.” Hobknot got down on one knee and pulled the other two down with him. “Great Lord Darius, on behalf of all the little ones from the Great Trolls of the mountains to the littlest of smidgens, I hereby pledge our eternal loyalty and devotion ‘till death do us part. Your word is our command.”

“Ya-di, ya-di, ya-di,” Greta interrupted. “You swell his head and you will get a lot worse than no teeth. Now tell the truth.”

Hobknot stood up again. “Of course, the odds are good we might not follow your commands, exactly, or even one for that matter. We are all natural liars, you know, and good for nothing thieves, besides. Hey! I didn’t intend to tell him that.”

“I think I knew that already,” Darius said, and eyed the dwarfish imp with a look that was not fooled and not going to be fooled.

“Miss Fae,” Greta said. “Or do I get someone else?” Greta knew he really wanted to be with her, but he just was not going to make it easy.

“It’s a dirty job watching over that old bat,” he said. “But I wouldn’t wish it on anyone else. I better do it myself.” He walked back into the tent.

“Baggins and Fidget!” Greta’s words thundered. “You two helped Ragwart and Gorse keep my poor brother prisoner for three days.” This did not come out as an allegation. The goddess knew the reality, and they knew that she knew. “Do you know what punishment they got?”

“Oh, no, Lady. Please not that,” Baggins began to weep. “The Mrs and the little ones. What will become of them? Anything but that.” Then Fidget hit him on the head.

“They didn’t get no punishment,” Fidget said. “In fact, the Lady gave them permission to steal some things.”

“That’s right,” Baggins suddenly perked up. “How did they get so lucky?”

“Do you want the same punishment they got?” Greta asked.

“Oh, no, please.” Baggins started again so Fidget hit him again. “I mean, yes, please.” Baggins finished.

“Then here is what you must do,” Greta said. “Go over to the Quadi camp. Take as many other musicians as want to go. Throw a big party. Keep the Quadi up all night dancing and singing. Only one condition. I don’t want you or any of my little ones to get hurt. Do you understand? Party all you want, only no little ones get hurt.”

“Party, but no one gets hurt.” Baggins nodded.

Fidget stood and knocked Baggins on the shoulder to follow. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you ma’am.” Fidget said quickly. They bowed several times and vanished before Greta might change her mind. Only three words floated back to their ears. “We do weddings.”

Darius looked at her. “I’m afraid to ask what that means,” he said, and he laughed; but to Greta it sounded like nervous laughter.

“What will they do to the Quadi?” Marcus stood right there to ask.

“Probably not much,” Greta answered. “Despite the bravado, they really have no interest in humans or human affairs. They will party. I only hope it will keep enough of the Quadi up and prevent them from making a serious, full scale attack in the morning. Give you and Darius another day to argue.” Greta meant that as a joke, but Marcus looked serious and Darius looked at her with an uncertain eye. Greta stepped into the tent and found Gaius and Vedix already beginning the arguments.

“Excuse me.” Darius said. He stepped from the tent, found his horse, and rode back toward the city.

“What’s with him?” Marcus did not really ask.

“I have a terrible headache,” Greta said, and she went back to where she, Darius and Berry had spoken privately. Damn it! It felt true enough. She did love him. And she had to cry about it because she felt sure he was lost to her.

************************

MONDAY

Greta needs to think. The rebels have the guns and are fortified on the temple mount. The Roman numbers are small for the moment, and the legion is days away. And the Germanic Quadi invaders are arriving in their thousands. Greta needs to get away, to think. She will go to Avalon, her real home, the home of the Kairos, or as she calls it her her Dacian tongue, Usgard above Midgard…

Until then, Happy Reading

R5 Greta: The Way Things Are, part 2 of 3

September 4, 2018August 28, 2018M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Fae was lying down and looked very frail. Berry looked at a scroll, upside down. Greta bent over to search for Fae’s pulse, and she heard Marcus.

“Now there’s a woman built to carry children,” he said. It sounded like his way of suggesting she had a fat butt. Greta turned slowly. She pointed to the roof of the tent and Marcus foolishly looked. Her foot came down hard on his toes.

“Oaf.” She called him. “I’ll probably be as fat as Mama soon enough, and then even Darius won’t want to look at me and you boys can have all the fun you want.” Marcus laughed a hearty laugh, and that did not make things easy. Greta had to still her feelings. There were important things to do. She introduced Fae as the wise woman of the forest people. It turned out Fae’s Greek was passable, and she even knew some Latin. Then she found out Sergeant Gaius knew Gaelic well enough to recognize most of the words in the local dialect. There were rough spots, but she knew they would work things out and she really would not be needed.

Greta sighed and stared at an invisible Hobknot to be sure he stayed good. Then she went outside and took Berry with her for safe keeping. Darius followed, until Greta turned to face him.

“You don’t like me much. That is obvious,” he said. He got military, blunt and formal. “But I will be a good husband and never give you reason to complain.”

Greta shook her head. To his surprise, she took his arm and walked him to where they could have some privacy. Meanwhile, Berry said nothing, but followed a few steps behind with big eyes and open ears. “That’s not it,” Greta said. “I like you well enough. You seem to be a nice man, only I don’t know you very well. I never imagined myself with a Roman. It takes some getting used to, is all.”

Darius turned and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. He smiled a little and she let herself be drawn up into his deep eyes. “I can live with that,” he said. “I’m still getting used to the idea that my mother was one of your people, or I should say our people. I understand. Maybe someday.” He did not finish that sentence and turned to another thought altogether. “And, now that you mention it, I don’t know you very well either, I suppose. I like what I see, and I suppose I am guilty of assuming the rest will be equally wonderful.”

Greta blushed a little, and she hated the way it made her freckles stand out. She was not what she imagined as beautiful, and especially after so many days in the wild woods. She imagined she looked frightful, but that mattered less than she thought as she finally began to understand her reluctance. “But there are things about me that you know nothing about, and they are big and important things, and they would take a very special man to be able to deal with them, type things.”

He looked at her, and clearly wanted to reassure her that, whatever it might be, that he could deal with it. But she knew he had no idea.

“There are things you need to know while there is still time to change your mind.” She said, bluntly, and then for the life of her she could not imagine how to begin to explain.

After the longest time of silence, Darius took her hand and attention. “Perhaps you could begin by telling me who this cute little shadow of yours is,” he suggested.

Berry sat on the ground to run her hand across the top of the grass. There were all sorts of animals that grazed near the forest’s edge, so in spots the grass looke like a newly mowed lawn. Greta pulled herself together.

“This is Berry.” She introduced her. “She is my ward, and you had better get used to having her underfoot because she will be with me until she convinces me to let her marry Hans.”

Berry looked up at Greta with great big eyes. “Really? Oh, thank you Lady. Thank you, thank you.” She scooted over on her knees and took Greta’s hand and began to kiss it.

“Berry,” Greta said softly. “This man will be my husband so you had better get used to him, too.”

Berry looked first. “I like him,” she said, and she scooted over and took his hand and began to kiss it. “Thank you, my Lord. Thank you for giving me Hans.”

“Berry.” Greta spoke, and when she had the girl’s attention she finished her thought. “You must wait four years.”

“Four years!” Berry fell over, nearly fainted dead away.

“Not before he is eighteen, don’t you think so?” She looked at Darius.

“At least,” Darius said. “But don’t you think Hans ought to have some say in the matter?”

Berry sat straight up. “Why?” She asked in such a frank and innocent tone it seemed clear that she had never considered this thought before.

“I’m afraid he has no say in the matter,” Greta said. She covered Darius’ mouth with her hand to stop him from speaking. “You see, there are some things about me that you don’t know. Big things.” Darius stayed wonderfully patient. “Berry.” Greta spoke at last, though she never let her eyes waver from his and the expression on his face. “Please come up to my shoulder. I think there is a knot in my hair.” Berry looked at Darius and tried to get up on her tip toes for a look. “No, sweet.” Greta said. “I mean get little. It’s all right.”

Berry looked again at Darius and then flew straight to Greta’s shoulder. Her head and hands went immediately into Greta’s hair and left only her wings and backside exposed.

“Great Gods!” Darius croaked, but then he stood there and watched. He looked fascinated, and Greta felt glad he was not like so many humans who viewed the little spirits of the earth with fear and trembling.

“Hey!” Berry shouted, having forgotten all about Greta’s hair. She turned and put her little hands on her hips. “If you two are going to be married, what was that game you were just playing?”

“Traditional human mating ritual,” Greta said, without pause. Darius hid his grin.

“Well I hope I won’t have to do that with Hans,” she said. “I couldn’t remember all that foolish talk.”

Darius and Greta both turned a little red that time. “That’s enough, sweet,” Greta said. “You need to get down now and get big again.”

Berry did one back flip in mid-air and landed perfectly on her feet.

“I say.” Darius looked at Greta. “But is it safe having her around?”

Greta shrugged. “Ask her.”

Berry spoke right up. “Oh, I hope it will be safe. I have been thinking about it and I am a little afraid of being around so many clunky humans all day, every day. You will be there if I need help or get into trouble, won’t you?”

“Um, yes.” Darius said, though that was not what he had in mind. He cocked one eyebrow at Greta, but this time she hid her smile. “But now Berry,” he said. “Will you be a good girl, and always be honest with us and do right away whatever we ask?”

“Yes I will,” Berry said, but then she thought about it and lowered her head. “At least I will try very, very hard.” She answered more honestly.

“Don’t expect too much,” Greta said. “She is a teenager.”

Darius gave Greta a look and she stood up straight. “Seventeen and a half.” She lied. “But I feel so much older after these last couple of months.” Darius nodded to that.