Medieval 6: K and Y 4 Happy Soon, part 2 of 3

September 18, 2024August 10, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Wilam and Kirstie let go and looked a bit embarrassed at having behaved as they did, even if most of the crowd just smiled at them. Alm had his arm around Yrsa, and she had her arm around Soren. Inga and Brant looked around and saw the captains Olaf and Jarl headed for the village. Kirstie saw Rune and Harrold head there as well. Mother Vrya and her cane limped beside Chief Kerga, who limped some himself after all those years.

Kirstie quickly distracted herself by reaching for Soren. She knelt down to her son and saw the welt around his eye, and it made her more determined than ever to tell Kare to leave and never come back. She picked him up and set him on her hip before she turned. “Soren,” she said. “This is Wilam.” Soren looked before he turned his shy head into his mother’s shoulder.

“Come on,” Brant said.

“A good son,” Wilam said and brushed the boy’s hair from his face. “Let me see that eye.” Soren would not look up to show the man. “That looks like a real black eye. It must have hurt.”

“Start walking,” Inga said, and the couple began to shuffle slowly in the direction of the village.

“A shock, I think,” Kirstie answered. “And one of many reasons why I am getting a divorce as soon as possible.”

“I had my share of spankings when I was growing up,” Wilam admitted.

“More than his share,” Brant said, with a knowing smile for Inga, who returned the smile.

Wilam continued as if not interrupted. “But my father never hit me. I knew when I did wrong and deserved a whipping, but my father never hit me.”

“Soren did nothing wrong. His father was angry, and he lashed out. He knew if he hit me, I would kill him, so he took his anger out on the child. I have no use for a man who hits people when he does not get his way. I especially want nothing to do with a man who hits children.”

Wilam raised a hand like he was taking an oath, and he said, “I promise to always respect you and the children for as long as I may live, so help me God.”

Kirstie looked down to watch her feet. She said nothing until they reached the door to the big house. Then she said the word that stood out in her mind. “Children?”

Wilam apologized. “I’m sorry. You are all I have thought of for three years. I feel as if we are already married. I’m sorry.”

Kirstie stopped. She set Soren down and let Yrsa take his hand again. She looked again in Wilam’s eyes and hardly knew what to say. She surprised herself as much as Wilam when she finally answered him. “A little girl would be nice.”

“Inside,” Inga said, and took Kirstie by the hand.

“Wilam,” Brant spoke in a tone of voice that got Wilam’s full attention. He motioned toward the doorway, and Wilam nodded and followed him in.

The first order of business was to open a keg of the local brew and get some food cooking almost as an afterthought. Kirstie once wondered why men had to get drunk before discussing business. It seemed an odd ritual, but it was the way it was done.

Yrsa and Buttercup kept Soren outside and occupied. They would eventually take him to Hilda’s where he could play with his friend Hodur. The other three women, Mother Vrya, Inga, and Kirstie sat off to the side in a special area where women were allowed. The women were not supposed to speak unless given permission, though they did not always play by that rule. Certainly, no one stopped Mother Vrya from speaking when she had something to say.

Once the atmosphere was subdued, Chief Kerga began with the introductions.

The strangers were seated where they faced the chief, sort of in the center of the room. There were five of them, Captain Olaf, Wilam, Brant Svenson, and two men who carried a small chest between them. They looked like rough men who kept their eyes on the chest, and that made people curious.

The three ship captains sat up front by the chief. They were all on a slightly raised platform that allowed them to see the whole hall. A dozen elders, mostly men with big, productive farms sat around the strangers, and some other men sat behind them.

“Captain Olaf Sturgeson, mostly Danish from the town of Lucker in Northumbria, English land. My Skipper is Brant Svenson, a fine Norwegian lad through his father Sven. My navigator is young Wilam Halfdanson, the last son of Halfdan Ragnarsson before he sailed off to Ireland to be killed in battle.”

Olaf had to stop as the talk went around the room. Everyone knew about Halfdan Ragnarsson, son of Ragnar Lodbrok, who with his brothers, Bjorn Ironside, Ivar the Boneless, and Sigurd Snake-in-the-eye, raised a great army and invaded England. Only the West Saxons stopped them from conquering the whole island. When the room settled down, Olaf got ready to speak again, but Wilam stood, and the room quieted. He spoke to Kirstie.

“My mother became pregnant days before my father sailed off to try and retake Dublin. By the time I was born, he had already failed and died in battle. So, you see, I never knew my father, and though I carry his blood in my veins, I do not make it a big thing.” He sat.

Olaf added, “Most of the crew call him Wilam, but some, sometimes call him Halfdan out of deference to his father.”

“Thank you,” Kerga said, with an extra-long look at Wilam and a long glance at Kirstie. “Do we have any who will vouch for the captain?”

“I will,” Jarl stood. He told the story of sailing to Normandy and being captured by the hag. Everyone there remembered how frightening the hag of the Vanlil had been, so they did not doubt the horror of the experience. He told about being caged beside the men from Northumbria while he left Old Man Skarde with Kirstie and her maid on the ship. He told how angry he had been at first, not that the three left the ship, but that once again Kirstie would get credit for saving the day. Then he exaggerated the confrontation with the hag beyond belief, but he ended with saying Captain Olaf and his crew stood beside them ready to fight as friends.

“When I found them off the coast of Nidaros, I hailed them, and they said they were on the king’s business. Brant spoke for his crew and said they were looking for Strindlos. I thought it was my duty to escort them here and see what king’s business they had in this place.”

Captain Olaf stood. “Our business is two-fold. First and most important, we are merchants in search of honest trading partners. I was told the people of Trondelag have need of quality crafted ironworks, plows as well as swords. We also have cows in the hold if you have the desire for such. We will take grain, but we would prefer furs such as are scarce in the English countryside and hides that may be worked into many made items.” He stopped speaking because the men began to shake their heads and make noises about not understanding the man. Brant stood, because his Norse was not tainted by such a heavy Danish accent.

“Our business is two-fold.” He took it from the top. “We are first of all merchants in search of fair and honest trading partners. You have the hides and furs that are hard to come by in our home. We have some finely crafted ironworks that you will find interesting and useful. But we can discuss trade a bit later. First, we have a duty to the king. Let me tell you the story.” He glanced at Kirstie and looked at Inga, who smiled for him, and it made him smile.

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

MONDAY

Kirstie is rewarded for her work in Northumbria and then needs to figure out how to get a divorce from Kare the Jerk. Until Monday, Happy Reading

Medieval 6: K and Y 4 Happy Soon, part 1 of 3

September 17, 2024August 10, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Once on the dock, they got joined by the elders, including Svend the blacksmith who was not quite ready to move to Nidaros, and they were backed up by all the families waiting to welcome home Jarl’s crew from their long voyage.

The new ship looked like a real transport, like from the Danelaw, or maybe eastern, Swedish lands. It had a hold and stood taller in the water that Jarl’s longship, but it looked slimmer than the typical belly-boat such as merchants sailed in the waters of Northern Europe. It looked like the kind of ship that might stop at the towns at the entrance to the fjord, or sail to the king’s house, back before the king’s house burned, or maybe sail all the way up to Maerin or Steinker. It did not look like a ship that would bother with a small and getting smaller village like Strindlos.

The ship bumped gently against the dockside, as Jarl brought his longship to the other side. Kirstie did not wonder for long who the ship might belong to. She saw old Captain Olaf lean over from the rail. “May we come ashore?” he shouted in as near to the old Norse tongue as he could manage.

No one could answer because Kirstie took a step forward and shouted, “Wilam.”

“Kirstie,” they heard the return shout, and the young man leapt to the dock without waiting for permission. Kirstie ran to him, and he met her halfway. They wrapped each other up in their arms and Kirstie began to cry softly on Wilam’s shoulder. He whispered in her ear. “I spent the last four years looking for you.”

“I spent the last four years dreaming about you. I’m sorry,” she said, and could not say any more through her tears.

Inga came up alongside Kirstie and a man came up beside Wilam. They looked at the couple before they looked at each other, and Inga spoke first. “Inga,” she gave her name.

“Brant Svenson,” he said, and smiled. “I take it you are Kirstie’ friend.” His old Norse was much better than Captain Olaf’s, though he spoke with a touch of a Danish accent.

“More like her watcher, ever since she was a wild child.”

Brant nodded. “Same for Wilam. He did not calm down until he started to study the stars and learn about navigating the seas. Now that he has found his heart’s desire, I hope he may finally become a man.”

Inga nodded and pushed her hair back a bit. Buttercup was whispering that this man seemed very nice, but Inga could tell that for herself. Buttercup did not get exposed, but the fairy quieted. “So, you know. Kirstie is twenty. I am eight years her senior and I am studying the ancient wisdom of the Volva. But even at a young age, Kirstie knew more about all things than myself and my teacher combined. She is special beyond words and in ways I cannot explain, but you must see for yourself.”

Brant nodded that he understood something. “And I am thirty to Wilam’s twenty-five, and I saw the goddess in Normandy,” he said, but did not explain as he turned his head when Wilam spoke.

“So, will you marry me?”

Kirstie finished crying and pulled back to look into Wilam’s face. She studied his eyes. She pulled from the embrace but held on to his hands. She did not think for very long. “I want to, but I can’t right now. After Lindisfarne, I was forced to marry someone else. I tried to make it work. I have a three-year-old son. But I just went to the elders to insist on a divorce. I never thought I would see you again. You may want to change your mind, but even if you do, I will be getting a divorce.” She waited, near tears again, but he did not think for very long either. He just had to piece those sentences together.

“So, we have to wait until the divorce is final, that’s all.”

Kirstie cried, but they were happy tears. She hugged him tight once again, and this time she did not want to let go.

“That was quick,” Inga said.

“Not hardly,” Brant said. “She was all he could talk about since he turned twenty-one. Sometimes, I feared he might explode for wanting her.”

“Is that how you feel about your wife?”

“Not married,” he said, and Inga felt something inside. Maybe she felt happy.

“So, the goddess?”

“Gnomes, too, though I never heard that name before. At least gnomes are what she called them.” Brant smiled and did not mind sharing his thoughts with Inga. “My neighbors back home would call them brownies. I suppose in Frankish, old Germanic lands they might be called kobold. Here, they might be called dwarfs or maybe elves of some sort. “

Inga pushed her hair back again to get Buttercup quiet. “My source says they are whatever Kirstie called them. It is part of what I was talking about when I said Kirstie was special beyond words. Apparently, she is the expert and decider of such things.”

“Your source being the fairy on your shoulder?” Brant asked, and Inga looked temporarily shocked. “I can explain. After Kirstie warned us and we evacuated the village, Wilam said he wanted to go back and look for her, but he did not know where to start. We went with the men of Bamburgh to search the coast for signs of the longships. Some men went south. We went north to Ross, and eventually all the way to Lindisfarne and back to Ross but saw no sign of any ships. When the men believed the longships eluded us and we were ready to give up, Wilam and I got a visit from the strangest crew we ever encountered. There were fairies, dwarfs, elves, brownies, gnomes of all shapes and sizes. They talked to Wilam like he was their friend and begged him to hurry to Lindisfarne. They said Kirstie was standing alone, with only her elf maid to support her, and she would surely die at the hands of the Vikings who planned to despoil the island.”

“What did you do?” Buttercup spoke right up suddenly ignoring the fact that she was supposed to be hiding in Inga’s hair.

Inga looked to the side and repeated the question in a calmer voice. “What did you do?”

“We hurried. We got all the ships we could find and all the men we could gather. Many raced up the coast but had to wait for the tide to go out before they could cross to the island. Many went with us aboard the ships. We landed at the docks and climbed the hill in time to see the last of the longships parked on the rocky shore. Wilam said he saw Kirstie, but she was too far away to call. She went with the ship, and he lost her, but he knew she was alive, and the Vikings left the island alone. Later, we heard the story from Father McAndrews about the bravery of the lone girl and how she fought the leader of the Vikings and turned them all away.”

Inga and Brant looked to the side and saw Wilam and Kirstie clinging to each other, staring at them, listening to the story with otherwise the same empty looks on their faces. Inga and Brant shared a smile and Mother Vrya arrived and totally interrupted everyone.

“Love later,” she said. “First we have business at the big house.”

Medieval 6: K and Y 3 Helpful Decisions, part 2 of 2

September 16, 2024August 10, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Yasmina

“It has been three years and the mothers are beginning to ask serious questions,” Yasmina admitted. She whispered to Aisha because they were approaching the area where the women went to watch what was happening in the court. Yasmina knew al-Hakim’s mother and grandmother would be there and hear everything.

“They know al-Hakim has no interest in girls. Maybe they will blame him.”

Yasmina shook her head. “If I don’t get pregnant soon, I will be out, and they will find al-Hakim a new wife.”

“I will think on it,” Aisha said, and then quieted as they came to the lattice wall and offered a bow to the Mahdi’s wife and al-Qa’im’s wife. The delegation from Alexandria was expected. Yasmina wondered if there might be fireworks, though gunpowder had not yet been invented.

Yasmina watched the men troop in. She did not look closely. Her eyes were focused instead on the old man’s face. She saw the frown form there and knew he would not be inclined to be gracious to his guests.

Aisha nudged her and pointed to the delegation from Alexandria. Yasmina caught sight of the leader of the delegation as the man bowed and made a nice little speech. He was the chief rival of Suffar, the governor of Alexandria’s evil Vizir. She guessed Suffar found a way to make the man leave town, maybe permanently. A delegation from Alexandria to the Fatimids had to be dangerous. No telling how the Isma’ili fanatics might treat those they consider heretics to the true faith. She imagined they might be kinder to Christians and Jews as complete outsiders to the faith.

Yasmina thought of the governor’s daughter, Badroul, that Suffar wanted to marry his son. She had to be seventeen by then, or near enough. Old enough to marry, but when Badroul was fourteen, she was madly in love with Ala al-Din, or as she called him, Aladdin, the guy with the lamp and the genie. She was just wondering if the girl was holding out against Suffar’s son when she caught sight of al-Din himself, shuffling at the back of the crowd.

“Apparently being a rich young man is not enough to keep you out of trouble when the governor gets an idea in his head,” Aisha whispered, directing her voice to Yasmina’s ears alone. Unfortunately, Yasmina did not have that same talent, so she had to swallow her response, or when Suffar puts the idea into the governor’s head.

“Child,” the Mahdi’s wife got her attention and was never kind to her. “Do you recognize any of these Alexandrians?”

Yasmina nodded. “Yes Grandmother. The speaker is one of the governor’s chief advisors. It must be a serious proposition they have in mind.”

“Yasmina,” al-Hakim’s mother was always nice. “You should not worry about such things at your age. You should be thinking of having a family.”

Yasmina lowered her head and played her part well. “Yes Mother. I think of it all the time, but al-Hakim is not very cooperative. It must be me.” She sighed to add just the right touch, hopefully without overdoing it.

Al-Qa’im’s wife gently stroked the back of Yasmina’s hair and cooed. Al-Mahdi’s wife clicked her tongue in disgust and said, “No, child. It isn’t you.”

When the delegation from Alexandria left the room, Yasmina and Aisha excused themselves and left. Yasmina spoke when they were alone again. “We have to find out what al-Hakim is doing and soon.”

“What are you thinking?” Aisha asked.

“I’m thinking I need to leave this place if I want to live. Kirstie has a three-year-old, but I will never have a baby with al-Hakim, and time is running out.”

“I spoke with your loyal retainer al-Rahim just yesterday. He got himself assigned to the stables with just that in mind.”

“Good,” Yasmina said, before she added. “I would like to have a son.”

“But first you need a husband,” Aisha countered.

“I don’t know. Kirstie has managed pretty well, though technically I suppose Kare counts.” She shook her head and changed her mind. “She needs to divorce him,” she said, without explaining.

Kirstie

Soren turned three in 903 when Kirstie finally admitted there was nothing she could do. Kare was determined have his cake and eat it too, which was a terrible cliché, but to the point. He expected her to be the good and submissive wife who let him dally in any direction he wanted. But that was not Kirstie, and he knew it. Things came to a head when she caught him trying to take some of her grain and carded wool. She had set it aside to go to market, and he, with three of his crew got caught with their hands full. He swore he needed it for his trading expedition, and he would bring her the proceeds. She said he already owed her thirty pieces of silver, so she did not trust him. He hit Soren. She prepared herself to kill him right then and there, but he and his crew members ran off while she made sure Soren was all right.

Kirstie cried for most of the rest of the day. Inga and Buttercup came in the afternoon and Inga was willing to wait until Kirstie got ready to talk about it, but Buttercup did not have the patience. She pressed the issue.

“I tried,” Kirstie said. “I really tried, but Kare is just impossible.” Kirstie felt like a failure, and though she knew that was not true she still felt that way. Some consolation was Yasmina urging her to divorce the jerk.

“You make me all weepy,” Buttercup said. “You need to be happy, soon. I think you will have happy soon.” Buttercup said through her own tears. Inga and Kirstie looked at each other like they had no idea what Buttercup might be talking about, but both knew not to question too closely the little prophetic-type utterances the little ones sometimes said. Often, they stretched the limits of what could be called coincidence. In this case, though, Kirstie and Inga understood there was no point in questioning Buttercup about what she meant because the fairy would have simply said, “I have no idea. I don’t know why I said that.” Assuming she even remembered saying that.

“I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthing babies.” Kirstie mumbled to herself. “We need to go,” she said and picked up her three-year-old, heavy as he was, and put him in her backpack. She had her adrenalin pumping when she started toward town. She called to Yrsa and Alm, and they caught up. She stopped briefly at the place of the Witcher Women. She found Mother Vrya waiting for her. When they all got to town, they found Captain Rune and Captain Harrold in the big house discussing the situation concerning Nidaros, where Strindlos seemed to be bleeding people. Rune was saying he and his crew would probably move there soon enough. Harrold said he would stay with Kerga because some of his men lived up by the Varnes River and saw no need to move from their good land.

“I want a divorce,” Kirstie said, without any preliminaries, interrupting everyone.

Mother Vrya nodded. Kerga and Harrold did not look surprised. Rune asked what happened.

It took about ten minutes to explain about catching Kare and his crew members trying to steal her goods for market. Kirstie yelled that her farm and the properties she bought and the produce from all of it was hers, not her husband’s, and he had no claim on her possessions. And besides that, he owed her thirty pieces of silver for selling her thralls without her permission.

“He hit me once, and he will never do that again. If he does, I will kill him. Only fair to let you know in advance. But now, he hit my son. I tried my best to be a good wife to him, but he is unfaithful, a thief, and a greedy useless excuse for a human being. God willing, he will sail off and never come back.”

“He has done the sailing off part,” Harrold said and showed a small smile. Harrold was responsible for the marriage. He clearly wanted to get even for her defense of Lindisfarne and seemed happy she suffered so much because of it.

Kirstie took a breath and apologized for interrupting their meeting. She repeated herself in a calmer voice. “I want a divorce.”

“No problem,” Chief Kerga responded to her apology. “We were not speaking of important things. We were just waiting.”

“There is a new sail on the horizon,” Rune said. “And Jarl appears to be escorting the ship.”

“We must go see,” Mother Vrya said.

Medieval 6: K and Y 3 Helpful Decisions, part 1 of 2

September 11, 2024August 10, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Inga, and the disguised elf Lonn led the group of thralls and possible tenant farmers. “I acted as the go-between, if you don’t mind,” Inga said, as she came to stand on one side of Kirstie. Yrsa and Alm stood on her other side. Lonn started with the introductions.

The first couple, an older couple had a sixteen-year-old boy who did not appear to be the shiniest apple in the bin. “They are from Sula, an inland village that was attacked by the Jamts in that year. They have not had good fortune in that place and thought the new village on the Nid River might give them a fresh start. My thinking was they would do well on the far property next to the long field. The woman can keep the garden, the men can plant the small fields on that property, and the boy can keep the sheep where most of that land is better suited to pasturage.”

The second couple was a young couple with a two-year-old baby girl. “They are from Lundar on the Gaul River, again an inland village where the men feel no need to go to sea or go to war. Their story is simpler. They are the younger ones in big families. There is only so much arable land in that place, and though the dowry is small, they hoped to find a place of their own in the new town. I believe they will do well here on the near property where the land is better for crops. They might keep a few cows for the milk if they choose to have a big family of their own.”

The young mother stepped up. “Oh, Lady. I have seen the home. It is like a dream come true.”

Kirstie looked serious and spoke without any sense of jesting. “My husband is captain of a longship and a hard man given to talk down on those he considers beneath him. As long as you don’t rile him, you should be fine.” she let that thought sit for a minute in case one or both couples decided to back out. Lord Amber took the silence to step in.

“I have drawn up contracts. Since you own the properties, not your husband, the tenants will be responsible to you alone. The agreement explains how after so many years of good service the land can become their property. Meanwhile, they have full use of the land and house as long as they remain tenants in good standing. Trust me.” He said that last to Kirstie since he knew she had not read the agreements. She signed everything. When the couples made their mark, because they were unable to read or write, Kirstie, much to her surprise, received five silver pieces from each, and they smiled about it.

“Oh Lady. I just know working for you will be wonderful. You need not worry. We will work hard and do a good job. You’ll see.”

“Your name?” Kirstie asked because the introductions went by too fast.

“Tove,” the girl said.

“Tove,” Kirstie said the name. “And Helga.” She pointed to the older woman in the first couple, who nodded. “It is my intention to stay home for many years to come, but you should know, I am a shield maiden and a navigator. The time may come when I may have to go to sea maybe for months, or even a year or longer. In that case, Inga, our Volva will watch over the properties, and Yrsa here will run the farm and the properties. Or if Yrsa chooses to sail with me, Alm will be your boss. Under no circumstances will you work for my husband.”

“And your children?” Tove asked.

“I have only a son, but if it is children, they will stay with my friend Hilda while I am away.”

“Oh,” Tove looked disappointed and her husband, which Kirstie thought was Sven, spoke on her behalf.

“My wife loves children. She wants to have another right away.”

Kirstie, having just survived childbirth, thought presently that one was enough. “And these last two?” Kirstie said to change the subject.

“Gustavs and Thomas,” Lonn said. “Gustavs is the elder. He is from Latvia in the east. Thomas’ heritage is from Strathclyde in the west, but he has been a thrall since birth. Gustavs worked a farm in the north where the old owner died, and the son got killed in the attack on Howick. The old woman could not afford to keep him. Thomas was second generation in service to a family that fell afoul to the king. They had to sell some thralls to meet the king’s demands. I will also say, the woman of the house was sorry to see Thomas go. He was a good and faithful worker.

“I will do a good job for you,” Thomas said.

Kirstie acknowledged his pledge but turned to Gustavs. “I was there. I told Ulf and Odger to leave Howick alone, but they were stubborn.”

Gustavs nodded, having already heard that she was a shield maiden, before his eyes got suddenly big. “You were the woman who stood alone and faced down eight ships of men before the abbey of Lindisfarne. I heard the story.”

“And you disapprove?”

“The opposite. I am third generation Christian.”

Kirstie pulled out her little wooden cross and turned back to Lord Amber. He answered her before she could ask the question. “I took a small portion of your money from the hollow of the tree. I knew it was your desire to run the farm yourself and not depend on your friends, so I had people look for suitable help as they looked for suitable tenants.”

“Thank you,” she said, and pointed to Fiona’s house. “You may wish to fix it up a bit and rearrange things a bit, but that will be your quarters.”

“Just so you know,” Lord Amber continued. “These men are yours and work for you. They are like this farm, your property. Your husband has no claim on them, and he should not have been allowed to sell Fiona and the boys. They were not his to sell without your permission. You see, he waited until you were ready to go into labor to make the sale and took all the money to pay for his ship. You could force a claim on his ship if you have a mind to do so.”

Kirstie would have to think about that. “For now, let us begin on a good note. Welcome to all of you. May your days here be filled with joy and happiness. Now, I am tired, and my son needs to nurse.” She stood and went into the house hoping that everything would work out well.

~~~*~~~

By the time Kare came back from his maiden voyage, all three properties were being well run and productive. Kare began to count up what he could gather for trade goods, but Kirstie shot down that idea first thing. “These are not your properties. These are not your tenants and not your thralls. And you owe me thirty pieces of silver for Fiona and the boys.”

“I didn’t get that much,” Kare protested.

“You owe me thirty pieces of silver,” Kirstie repeated.

Kare looked at his son but did not touch him. He looked at Kirstie and she saw the look in his eyes. He wanted to hit her, but he thought better of it. He bellowed, “You are my wife.”

“I am not your thrall.”

Kare thundered and threw a chair across the room, breaking one leg against the wall, and he stomped out and stayed away for a week.

When he came home, Kirstie softened a little and honestly still tried to make it work, but it did not take much to set him off. Over the next three years, Kare stayed home about a third of the time. A third of the time he spent sailing off to who knew where. Roughly a third of the time he spent at Nidaros.

Kirstie heard that Kare bought a home in Nidaros and moved his girlfriend Randi into the place. She also heard he started hanging out with another girl named Thurid. Kirstie never threw their names in Kare’s face, though she was tempted often enough. Kirstie tried to make it work, but honestly, it got to where it did not take much to set her off either.

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

MONDAY

Yasmina has some thoughts about marriage and children, and Kirstie wants a divorce. Until then, Happy Reading

Medieval 6: K and Y 2 Home, part 2 of 2

September 10, 2024August 10, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Come September, October, and November, when the leaves fell and the days turned cold, Kirstie lightened up on Kare. They had to share the same house and the same bed, and peace was better than war. Kare still threw fits now and then, especially after he discovered Bjorn the Bear’s beer recipe. He was not a happy drunk.

Kare spent much of his time with the shipbuilders. The rest of his time got spent examining the house and barn in every nook and cranny. It did not take long for Kirstie to figure out he was looking for whatever money, silver, or gold she had hidden. He found the beer recipe when he started tearing through the barn.

Kirstie had her bit of money safely hidden. It was not much since she bought those properties next to her own place, but just to be sure, she took what she had and deposited it with the elves who had no use for money. She figured it would not be safe with the dwarfs. They would likely melt down the metal to use for their own purposes. Also, the fairies might keep it, but the risk was too great that they might leave it lying around, unprotected, and accidentally forget about it.

Lord Amber put it in the hallow of a tree and covered it with spells designed to scare away any humans that got too close. He assigned a half-dozen young elves to watch it, which mostly they did. Kirstie said thank you and went straight home. The sky looked like it might snow.

Kirstie stayed home in January. She feared she might slip and fall where the ice covered the path to town. Besides, she started feeling very full, even if Inga still insisted her son would not be born until mid-March. Kare started to get anxious about something, but he would not say what. Sometimes, Kirstie imagined he cared about her and was anxious about her and the baby. Usually, she thought he was anxious about his ship. The builders stopped working about mid-November and would not start up again until after her baby was born. Whatever was bothering him, it only seemed to get worse as the time went on. And in winter, when people spent most of their time indoors, he was often around, brooding over something he refused to talk about.

Things came to a head around the first of March, when Kirstie felt ready to burst. Kare took Fiona and her three sons and sold them to a man in Aurland in Sygnafylki, a completely different province and a long way from Strindlos. He got drunk. He knew she would object, and he did not want to hear it. He hit her and knocked her down. Her hands went straight to her belly to calm her baby and make sure nothing got shaken too badly. She got up slowly. She caught his eye and even drunk, he realized he made a mistake. Kirstie’s words were very cold and directed. “If you ever raise your hand to me again, I will kill you.” He knew she meant it. She might do it, too.

“You just don’t understand,” he yelled, took his money, and left. He stayed in his rundown shack for the entire month of March. Kirstie gave birth on the sixth. She named the boy Soren Kareson, because Kare never even came to see or to name his son.

Much later, Kirstie found out Kare needed the money to make the last payment on his ship. Once the builders were paid, they went back to work and finished it in March. Apparently, some of the delay was waiting for Kare to finish paying for it. On the first of April, Kare gathered his crew and set out on his maiden voyage. “April fool,” Kirstie called him. After he left, she found out that while she was busy being pregnant with Kare’s child, Kare was off having secret rendezvous with a woman named Randi.

Randi came from the town at the mouth of the Nid River when the Vanlil attacked. She lost her young husband and her child when she escaped the fighting. She came to Strindlos with some others, but now most of them were returning to the new town of Nidaros. Maybe that was where the whole idea of migrating to Nidaros started. Kirstie hoped Strindlos would remain a viable village for as long as she lived, but there was no guarantee. If the king came to rebuild his house, he might insist Strindlos, the closest village, be abandoned so the people could fill his adjacent town. If the king built a fortress, he might not have to insist. People would flock to the protected town. Rune and Jarl already had land around the Nid River. The ship builders were mostly there as well. The rest of the people might not be far behind.

Hilda had a boy about a week after Kirstie. She named him Hodur Thorenson. Hilda was happy enough, though Thoren went off sailing with Kare. Thoren had been studying navigation and Kirstie did not imagine Kare would get very far without him. Curiously, Thoren never questioned her for her knowledge about the subject, not to say Kirstie was the only navigator in town.

About the time Hilda went into labor, Kirstie felt strong enough to step outside. She wrapped Soren carefully in plenty of blankets for warmth against the chill and walked to the cooking fires. Birdie introduced her dwarf friend Missus Kettle. Missus Kettle came down from the mountains, a volunteer to cook for the house now that Fiona was gone.

“Thank you,” Kirstie said. “Everything I have had so far has tasted wonderful.”

Missus Kettle grinned. “My husband and his friends, dwarfs you know, I don’t think they chew anything long enough to taste the food. I don’t mind cooking for someone who appreciates it.”

Kirstie smiled and turned to the lords of the woods and hills. Lord Bjork, king of the fairies was there with his wife, Bellflower, their daughter Buttercup, and her husband Meriwood. Booturn the chief dwarf and his crew of a half-dozen fellow dwarfs stood remarkably still and quiet, waiting their turn. Lord Amber and his wife Heather also stood with their daughter Yrsa and her husband Alm. Kirstie turned first to the fairies and Bjork spoke right up.

“The spring is upon us. The young ones have said good-bye to Mother Vrya and the Witcher Women. Buttercup may visit young Inga from time to time, but they have work to do in this world and we have let things go for too long. The grain is ready to be planted. The flowers are beginning to grow in the fields. The snow and ice are leaving the trees and there is much to do. I have told the young ones you will be much happier seeing us attending to the work given to us. We have let things go for too long.” He repeated himself.

“Yes, my friends,” Kirstie agreed. “We all have much to do.”

“We will not be far away if you should need us,” Lord Bjork said.

“The best of blessings on you and your son,” Lady Bellflower said, and they flew off to disappear among the trees.

“Booturn,” Kirstie called to him though he was right there. “Report,” she said, but she could not hold back the smile.

Booturn worried his hat as he spoke. “Me and the boys have done about all we can for your blacksmith, and now that the lady Fiona is moved on, we decided we better move on, too. We want to get back to some real forges and some real work before the dark elves down below come up and steal our things.”

“And don’t you steal theirs either.” Kirstie shook a playful finger at them.

“No. No Mum. Never dream of it…” The dwarfs answered.

“Besides,” Booturn continued. “Smithy Svend is talking about moving his operation to Nidaros, and it makes my feet tired just thinking about walking all that extra distance.”

“Go home, with my thanks and blessing,” Kirstie said. “I will keep Birdie and Missus Kettle for a while if you don’t mind.”

Booturn made a face which might have been a face of hardship, but which looked slyly like a face of relief and joy. He spoke of the hardship, like he was making a great sacrifice. “It won’t be easy without our womenfolk, but I can see you need the help most right now. They can stay as long as they have a mind. We will just have to make do.” He let out a great sigh, but it was not convincing.

“Go on,” Kirstie said. “Skat and have a safe trip home.” Kirstie had to think for a moment before it came to her. “And Booturn. Maybe your daughter will have a son you can leave the family tools to in the future.”

“A grandbaby son?” Booturn puffed out his chest like it was already a done deal. Kirstie looked at Birdie, but Birdie answered her unspoken question like she was reading Kirstie’s mind.

“My baby does not want her mother interfering. I’ll see the boy when she brings him for a visit, and then I’ll spoil him rotten and she will have to deal with that.” Birdie turned back to her loom without so much as a crack in her serious expression, but Missus Kettle grinned to think of it.

Booturn frowned and cleared his throat. “Come on boys,” he said, and they also vanished in the woods.

Kirstie turned to Lord Amber, but Amber pointed first to Vortesvin who stood there quietly, straw hat in his hand, which he pretty much tore to pieces while he waited. Kirstie imagined she saw a tear in the old troll’s eye. He seemed to be waiting for her to speak, so she did, though it broke her heart to say it.

“You know, you cannot follow Fiona and the boys. Fiona’s life will be but a breath of years, and the boys not much longer. As for Sibelius, though he will not live as long as a full blood troll, we may hope he will live long enough to see his father again.”

“I was good,” Vortesvin said. “I did not fight or anything when your man took them away.”

“You were very good, and I thank you for that.”

Vortesvin nodded and looked in the direction the dwarfs went. “I think I will go home to the mountains again. I will remember Fiona, and the boys, and my son, and be glad that I know what love is.” He wiped his nose with his arm and shouted, “Hey. Wait up,” and he crashed into the trees, running after the dwarfs.

Kirstie looked at Lord Amber again and wiped the tears from her eyes. Lord Amber smiled to be reminded just how much Kirstie loved all of her little ones, even the ones that were not so little. Then he thought he better speak.

“While you were busy with your new son, I took the liberty over this last month to seek out possible tenants for the two properties you bought. I was discreet.” He nodded at the path toward town. In the remarkable timing the little ones often displayed, Kirstie saw a small crowd coming up the path and headed toward the house.

Medieval 6: K and Y 2 Home, part 1 of 2

September 9, 2024August 10, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Kare tried. Kirstie could tell. He tried really hard to be good, but it was not in him. He was a demanding kind of person who had little sensitivity for those he considered beneath him. Kirstie and Kare argued from the beginning. She had to regularly remind him that she was not his thrall. Alm, the head elf, Yrsa’s husband, had a long talk with the man one afternoon, and after that, he left Alm and the volunteer elves completely alone, and he avoided Yrsa as much as possible.

Birdie the dwarf wife ignored the man. She kept working her loom and ignored everything he said. Kare eventually figured the old woman had to be deaf, and she was not worth bothering with.

Fiona, Kirstie’s thrall, and her boys Oswald, Edwin, and baby Sibelius were a special problem. Vortesvin scared Kare to death every time their paths crossed. Kare saw Vortesvin as a giant, which was bad enough. Kare never pierced the glamour that Vortesvin wore, which was just as well. The giant looked like an extra tall human, and his mind could discount much of what was seen. Seeing the actual troll might have caused Kare to run off screaming. Several times Kirstie thought that might be worth it. Of course, the fact that Kare could not see the troll told Kirstie, and everyone else who knew about such things, that much as she tried, Kirstie could not find any love for Kare. The elves, dwarfs, fairies, trolls, and all the rest of the little ones Kirstie had responsibility for would not harm Kare in any way, since he was her husband, but they would not be inclined to be kind to the man either.

Fiona and the boys were tied to Vortesvin, which frustrated Kare. The boys were learning to work the farm and did a good job for their young ages. Kare figured the older they got, the better they would work. He seriously thought about selling them for the money. Kirstie could just cover the work with her friends, as she called them. Vortesvin was the only snag in the scheme. The giant was not his to sell, and he figured Sibelius, the giant’s child might fall into that category. Though Sibelius was also the child of Fiona, so he might be counted as a thrall. Kare would have to find out the rules about such things.

~~~*~~~

Around the first of July, Kirstie confirmed that she was pregnant. She felt certain when she missed her period for the second time in the middle of the month. Her childhood friend Hilda became pregnant around the same time and she and Thoren, Kare’s friend, were excited. Kirstie and Kare argued to the point where Kirstie would not let him touch her. Kirstie blamed her one-night-stand honeymoon. Anyway, Inga confirmed the diagnosis.

“That will put my baby’s birthday around March first,” Kirstie said.

“More like the middle of March,” Inga countered. “Same as Hilda.”

“The ides of March. How appropriate,” Kirstie said, without explaining.

“Anyway,” Inga continued. “By mid-March, the days should begin to warm, and in the spring, there should be plenty to eat after the slim winter. You might not have to worry about such things, but many families do. Most of the children who die in their first year are the ones born from November to February when food is scarce.

~~~*~~~

Kirstie and Inga went to visit Hilda, and Hilda came running to hug them both. Hilda was so happy. Kirstie tried extra hard not to be jealous. She felt bad about saying something to break the good feelings.

“Have you heard from Liv?”

“That was the most terrible thing,” Hilda said. “When you were on your way home, Liv’s farm got attacked and both her mother and father were slaughtered, torn to pieces, and Liv was the only survivor. I understand she was covered in the blood of her parents, which Chief Kerga says is why the killers did not kill her. She looked like she was already dead.”

“They never found who did it, or why,” Inga added.

“Some of the men think it was an animal, like a monster bear. Mother Vrya says there is more to it than that, but she does not know what.”

“And she moved in with cousins in Varnes?” Kirstie wanted to get the story straight.

“Yes, she did,” Hilda said. “And no, I have not heard anything from her lately.”

~~~*~~~

After hugging her friend and wishing her the best, Kirstie went with Inga to visit the Witcher Women. Mother Vrya was resting. She did that more and more as she aged, but when they came in, she sat up and said something Inga and Kirstie did not know. “Look at you,” she said to Kirstie. “Eighteen. All grown up, and married, and now going to have a baby. You know, I was married once.”

Inga and Kirstie looked at each other. They could not picture it. “Yes,” Mother Vrya insisted. “We were in love. We had no children, and I do not think my husband was unhappy, but when the call to arms went out from the sons of Ragnar Lodbrok, he answered the call. He did not live long. I grieved terribly. I went up into the mountains and thought to throw myself off from the highest cliff, but there, the spirits came to me, and I found myself.”

“Inga. You sing to the earth and the sky, and the great spirits of the old ways listen. I do not speak of the little spirits of the earth, air, fire, and water that follow Kirstie around, but the great spirits of old, even Mother Freyja herself. You are brilliant, quick to grasp many things and your understanding of much surpasses my own, but still, you have not found yourself. One day, perhaps. I ask the Mother Goddess of all the Volva to be gracious to you.”

“Kirstie.” Mother Vrya paused as if she could not quite reach the thing she was after. “Kristina. A name not known among the people. Your good mother named you after the new way unknown to us. She was a light in this dark world and the whole community mourned when she was taken from us.” She paused again to frame her words. “You know things only the gods know. I have seen it in the wind, the clouds, and the stars. And yet, I do not know if you will ever find yourself. You have been given too much for a young child. Too much is expected from you, and you expect too much from yourself. Much too much.” Mother Vrya shut her eyes and laid back down, turning on her side to turn her back to them.

Inga and Kirstie got the message. They left quietly and went to the cooking fire of the Witcher Women. The fairies Buttercup and Daphne were arguing about something. The poor old widow was trying to cook and keep her ears plugged at the same time. Kirstie pointed at Buttercup, the poor old woman, and Daphne in that order, and she named them. “Bubble-bubble, toil, and trouble.”

“I’m not trouble,” Daphne insisted.

“You are if you won’t let this poor woman do her work.”

“But it needs more salt,” Daphne said.

“It has too much salt,” Buttercup countered.

“You need to let the cook decide that.” Kirstie said. “You need to come with us. My baby is telling me we need to go home and rest for a bit. Besides,” Kirsti spoke to Buttercup. “Meriwood is missing you.”

“I know,” Buttercup responded. “But he is hunting with Alm and the boys right now. I don’t want to watch.”

Daphne flew straight to Kirstie’s belly, and Buttercup joined her. Kirstie felt the warmth as the fairies reached out to touch the baby inside her without actually touching her. “Maybe it is a girly,” Daphne said.

“No,” Buttercup countered. “She is having a boy.”

“Do you want to know what your baby will be?” Daphne asked, though the fairies already told her several times.

Kirstie turned to Inga. “Just as well,” she said. “I don’t think Kare could handle a girl.”

Inga understood, and they trudged back to Kirstie’s home.

Medieval 6: K and Y 1 Married Life, part 3 of 3

September 4, 2024August 10, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Yasmina

After 914 A. D. The Hejaz and North Africa

Kairos 105 Yasmina, Princess of Mecca and Medina

Yasmina crawled into her chair at the table and faced al-Hakim. She moved her knight and said, “Check.”

“You are very good at this game. I don’t know why I play it with you.”

‘Because you don’t want to do other things.” she answered. “That is okay. I accept that, but you know we must spend one day and one night together each week or your parents and grandparents will start asking questions. I would not know what to say to your grandfather, the Caliph of all the Fatimid Empire.” she smiled at that description. “Questions would not work out well for either of us.”

Al-Hakim huffed and moved his king. He understood. “You would become a plaything for my brother, al-Mansur, and I would not like to see that happen.”

Yasmina smiled as she moved her queen and said “Check. You like me?”

Al-Hakim lifted his eyes from the game to look at her. “You know I do. You are a great sister, and as long as you are willing to accept me as your brother, even as you suggested in the beginning. Yes, as brother and sister rather than husband and wife, I have found real affection for you.”

Yasmina gushed. “I am glad. I’m not at all ready for a husband, but I always wanted a brother so I could beat him in games and tease him about his girlfriends, or boyfriends as the case may be.”

He moved his king again and frowned, touching her queen as he looked around the board trying to find a way out. “Just like a woman to back a man into a trap.”

“Be honest. We both got trapped, but you tried at first, so I am not a virgin,” Yasmina said seriously. “Still being a virgin would have raised far too many questions for both of us.” he nodded, and she finished her thought. “Did I tell you how good and brave it was of you to do that?”

“Many times,” he said. “I know my mother and grandmother checked. It might have been better, though, if you became pregnant.”

“No,” she protested. “You would have put me away and we never would have become friends, like brother and sister.”

He agreed with that. She was the first person in his life who cared for him for who he was and did not judge him or make him feel wrong and dirty. “I don’t know if I can do that again,” he admitted.

“Maybe someday when we are older, we can figure something out,” she touched his hand briefly as a sign of her own affection and he nodded to her, so she changed the subject. “So, how is Abdallah? I suppose after all this time he has adjusted to spending one night alone in the fac-tUry.” She deliberately mispronounced the word.

“Fac-tOry,” he said with some exasperation.

“Of course,” she responded. “I keep forgetting. You know, it might help if I knew what you were doing out there in secret-land. Maybe I could remember better.”

Al-Hakim stared at her while she put on her “Hi, I’m just a stupid little girl face.” It made him grin.

“Maybe someday,” he said.

Yasmina huffed like any girl at not getting what she wanted. She moved her other horse and said, “Checkmate.” He had to stare at the board for a minute before he shrugged, and she began to pick up the pieces to put them away.

Al-Hakim stood and stretched. “I have to go,” he said through his yawn and grabbed his cloak. “I have to check on things at the fac-tUry.”

Yasmina pouted. “Now, don’t start picking on me,” she said before she smiled and followed him to the door. He stepped out and stopped. She reached up and kissed his cheek while he reached down to squeeze her butt cheek. It was their routine in front of the guards and whatever women might be in the area. He marched off down the way. She kept smiling until she got her door closed. Then she shook her head and mumbled softly to herself, “Something wrong with that boy.”

“I agree,” Aisha said as she came in from her little room next door, having heard the soft mumble with her good elf ears.

“You look older,” Yasmina responded. “Al-Mansur bothering you again?”

Aisha nodded. “I have tried to make myself look appropriately old enough to be your long-time maid and guardian and old enough to keep the younger men from getting any ideas. It doesn’t work on al-Mansur.”

“He might like an older woman,” Yasmina teased.

“A young bull. He likes all women. He isn’t picky,” she responded.

Yasmina understood as she went to the table and finished picking up the game to put it away while Aisha straightened the bed cloths. Again, Yasmina changed the subject. “I would sure like to know what they are doing in what al-Hakim calls his factory. We see the metal brought in and I know they are smelting something. Also lumber and wagon loads of various raw materials that I can’t get close enough to identify. I have a bad feeling about it.”

“As do I,” Aisha agreed as there came a knock on the door.

“Come,” Yasmina raised her voice.

The imp wife Camela came in with a “Good morning.” She was well disguised as an old lady and was followed by three maids carrying trays which they set on the table before they left. When the door closed, Camela had something more to say. “Breakfast. I thought you might need a bite to eat after a strenuous night of doing nothing.”

Yasmina thought it looked like enough food for an army. “Not true,” she protested. “He cuddles in the night. If he had any interest at all, he would make a good husband. Certainly, better then Kare the jerk.”

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

MONDAY

Kirstie and Kare argue. Kirstie is pregnant and Kare looks for the money Kirstie has hidden away. Then Kare goes one step too far and moves out. Until Monday, Happy Reading

Medieval 6: K and Y 1 Married Life, part 2 of 3

September 3, 2024August 10, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie considered wearing her armor during the ceremony as a sign of protest, but in the end, she dressed in her blue dress. She kept telling herself that it was up to her to try and make it work. She cried a lot, and Yrsa cried with her, and she understood. Making her marry Kare was Harrold’s way of getting revenge.

In the end, Kirstie stood quietly and said nothing. When they got sprinkled with the blood of the goat sacrifice, they went off to a tent that had been set up some distance from the camp. The men would drink all the mead while the couple consummated their marriage.

“You know, this is not Frigg’s day,” Kirstie said to the priest. “You are asking for trouble.” Weddings were always conducted on Friday or Frigg’s day. Frigg was the goddess of marriage and the family. To marry on any day other than hers was an insult to the goddess.

“I know,” Toke said, and he said it in a tone of voice that suggested for the only time in Kirstie’s hearing that he was not happy with Captain Harrold’s decision, and with the whole thing. He was just following orders.

Kirstie considered running away, but she had nowhere to go.

She considered the hags of Abraxas. At least she should not have to go running off to some foreign port to kill any more of them.

Abraxas was a would-be god, son of the Greco-Roman god Janus and the Irish Celtic, Asgardian rooted goddess Morrigu. Abraxas was a god of fire and water and claimed to be a god of good and evil, but nobody ever saw the good in him. The problem was Abraxas was born roughly a hundred years before the dissolution of the gods, so he was barely counted as an adult before the gods went away—and he was supposed to go with them over to the other side but he refused to go.

When Kirstie’s Nameless god banished him from the lands of Asgard, he had a second chance. When the other godly lives Kirstie lived, Amphitrite the queen of the seas and the Greco-Roman world, Junior Amun of Egypt, North Africa, and the Middle East, and Danna, the mother goddess of the Celtic gods confined him to the British Isles, he had a third chance. He still refused to go over to the other side and created hags out of women to enforce his will. He wanted to father a new pantheon of gods. Danna had to throw him off the planet altogether.

Now that Abraxas was banished from the earth and confined to the second heavens, the Abraxas hag problem was settled as far as Kirstie was concerned. She decided it might be nice to stay home. She did her best, and in the morning, she felt that Kare was satisfied despite the impossible expectations he may have built up in his mind over the years.

Kirstie dressed in her armor and thought of it as protection from many things. She made Kare dress, and they went to Harrold.

“We need to leave this island before we are discovered,” Kirstie said. “Now that I am married, if you have anything more to say to me you have to speak to my husband.” It was her way of saying she was not planning on speaking to him ever again.

Harrold said nothing to her. He merely nodded and got the men, some of whom were still drunk, to pack everything for the voyage home. The voyage took almost two weeks due to bad winds. Kirstie looked at Toke more than once, but all he said was, “I know.” Fortunately, they did not run into any sort of storm.

Kare, who sat behind her, spent those two weeks constantly touching her back, hair, arms, and wherever he could reach. He got really annoying, and Kirstie swallowed her words many times. They hit the Norwegian coast a bit to the south and sailed up to the Trondelag. When they got back to Strindlos, a good two months after they left, they divided up the bit of loot they got. There had certainly been plenty of less profitable voyages.

Kare claimed Kirstie’s portion, and he claimed Yrsa’s, since Yrsa was Kirstie’s maid servant. Harrold got generous and gave Kare an extra portion to help him buy his own longship. He called it a wedding present. Kare stopped by the shipwrights and gave the whole amount to them before he checked the progress of the building. The ship was fully framed. It had a strong and sturdy looking mast. It looked solid, a good ship, and the planking was being added before the fixtures for the sail and the oars.

Meanwhile, Inga visited with Kirstie and the first words out of her mouth when she heard the story were, “I am so sorry.”

“It was inevitable,” Kirstie said softly. “Sadly, I have fallen in love with someone else. I only met him twice, but I love him, and I believe there is a real connection there. Wilam. He is from Northumbria, so I will probably never see him again.” She took a deep breath. “Kare is my husband now, and I need to try to be a good wife.” She almost choked saying Kare and husband in the same breath, but she was resigned and determined to make the best of it.

“Kirstie,” Kare called, and she went to him. She walked. She did not run. “Let’s go home,” he said, and Kirstie turned toward her home. He stopped her with the words, “Where are you going?”

“Home,” she said.

“I don’t live there.”

“You do now,” Kirstie responded. “That little shack you live in is not fit for a ship’s captain. I have a good farm and thralls to keep it earning a profit. Plus. I bought the two properties next door toward the long field when the families moved to Nidaros. We can lease those properties to families to work it for a portion of what they grow, or we can find a few more thralls to work the land ourselves. I have the forest in my back yard where we can hunt for skins and furs to trade. We can sell your little shack, or maybe build a warehouse there down by the water to store all our goods for trade.”

Kare thought hard about it. “You got any more money?”

Kirstie tried hard not to curl her lip as she took Kare’s hand and led him to her place. “No more money,” she said, whether that was true or not. “You are like a nobleman now, land rich and cash poor. As long as you treat the thralls and men willing to work the land with respect, we can slowly accumulate plenty of money; maybe more than you can imagine. Of course, if you drive off the help, we will gain nothing.”

She looked at him and he understood the look well enough. “I can be good to the hired help,” he said.

She said, “Better let me run the farm. After all, you will be sailing off on regular trade missions once your ship is finished, so you won’t be around. Just don’t be mean and demanding of the help. I don’t need the headache of constantly trying to make peace.”

“I’ll be good. I can be good,” Kare insisted. Kirstie would have to wait and see. She figured she would rather go hag hunting than be put in the middle of the demands and complaints and hurt feelings, and constantly having to come up with compromises. She prayed that they finished Kare’s ship real soon.

Kairos Medieval 6: K and Y 1 Married Life, part 1 of 3

September 2, 2024June 30, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

After 883 A. D. Trondelag, Norway

Kairos 104 Lady Kristina of Strindlos

When Kirstie and Yrsa left Father McAndrews and the monks behind and got to the shore of Lindisfarne, they found Captain Harrold’s longship was the last one there. Kirstie took one long look back at the abbey, the chapel, and the village she spared from the Viking rampage. Five shiploads of men eventually came to her side to defend the Holy Island against those who wanted to loot and pillage the island. It was enough to turn the looters away. The island was spared.

Kirstie was especially glad that three of the Viking crews that came to her side included all the men from her home village of Strindlos. Most of those men were her friends and neighbors. True, Captain Harrold Harroldson was the last and he came to her side reluctantly. He seemed convinced the abbey had chests full of gold and silver, and he would not be talked out of it, but his men, the men of Strindlos, outvoted him with their feet. Harrold came, but as he passed her by, he could not resist pointing his finger and mumbling threats about getting even.

When Kirstie and Yrsa clambered aboard Captain Harrold’s ship, Kare yelled at them. “How dare you prevent us from ruining the place. Now King Cnut of York won’t pay us, like he promised. We could have gotten all the silver from the church and been paid besides. We could be rich.”

Kirstie yelled right back. “Me and Yrsa standing alone against four hundred men. You should be glad I’m alive.”

Kare’s friend Thoren spoke in a much calmer voice. “Harrold wanted to leave you here. He wanted to abandon you to your fate among the Northumbrians.”

Kare still yelled. “I said I was not leaving without you. He said I could stay and die with you for all he cared.”

Thoren interrupted again. “Skipari Toke reminded him that Chief Kerga and Mother Vrya would be very unhappy if he left you here.”

Kare nodded, softened his voice a little, and pointed at Thoren. “Not to mention all the strange ones that live around your farm. That will have to change when we get married.”

“That will not change.” Kirstie shouted while she stored her things beneath her seat. She did not say she and Kare would not be married. Kirstie felt there was something inevitable about Kare and her, even if she hated the idea. Kare had been hounding her and threatening to marry her since she was a child. Sadly, she could not imagine a happy life with Kare. Right at the moment, she did not even want to look at the man.

Toke, the skipari made them all take their seats. Kirstie was glad for that, even if Kare sat right behind her. She grabbed her oar, and soon enough they rowed out into deeper water.

Kirstie looked toward the back of the ship, as all rowers did. She watched Captain Harrold at the steering board where he faced the front and could direct the rowers with simple commands. They turned around to head out to sea and Kirstie got a good last look at the island they were leaving behind. She saw ships, primarily fishing ships filled with men sailing by Saint Cuthbert’s Island to reach the main island on the other side of Heugh Hill. Before they got completely out of sight, she saw men on the hill staring back at them. She wondered if Wilam was among them before she scolded herself for believing Wilam felt anything at all for her.

She rescued Wilam with all the crews in Normandy and saw that they got paid. But she just met him. She hardly talked to him. He was just one member of one of the crews. He sailed with Captain Olaf. Brant Svenson was his skipari. But she imagined he was mostly just happy to be freed from his cage. She had no reason to suppose he had any interest in her one way or another.

True, she met him a second time in the Northumbrian village of Ellingham. She warned him about the Norsemen ready to attack Ellingham so he could evacuate the village, but really, he was just grateful. They talked a bit before she had to go, but not about anything important. As soon as Brant Svenson came with two horses, he rode off quick enough. He was just being grateful, she told herself again. It was not anything personal. She decided she should not let her personal feelings run away with her.

Kare said something over her shoulder from behind, but she chose not to hear him.

They rowed the two hours to one of the smaller of the Farne Islands that looked out on the North Sea, well out of sight from the mainland. Harrold brought the ship to the rocky shoreline where they put down the anchor and came ashore.

Kirstie noticed for the first time that they had a few goats tied at the back of the boat, along with a big keg of either wine or beer. Probably beer or mead, she decided. Harrold must have sent a few men to scout ahead on the holy island and maybe they picked up a sampling of what they found.

Kirstie ignored the goats. She had to hurry to Harrold to make her peace offering. He kindly stopped to listen to what she had to say. “I have a present for you, as long as there is peace between us,” she said. “The priest on Lindisfarne gave me this.” She pulled out the small golden cross. “He said it belonged to his mother. It is gold and probably the only gold on the whole island. I am offering it to you as very small compensation for preventing you from pillaging the abbey and the town.” She clutched it and thought through a prayer in her mind before she opened her hand and held it out to the man. “Let there be peace between us.”

Harrold took the little golden cross and looked at it closely before he put it in a pocket of his own. He nodded and said something she did not expect. “Do you know why Toke is my skipari?” Kirstie shook he head. “I can trust him. The men respect him, and he is honest because he is a Godr, a priest of Aesgard. He served in the temple in Varnes. That is where I found him back when you were a baby, and he has sailed with me since that day, which is why you might not know he is a priest.” Harrold turned his head to see one of the goats unloaded from the ship. “I am willing to make peace, but only after the ceremony.”

“What ceremony?” Kirstie asked, and suddenly two plus two added up to about seventeen in her head. “No,” she raised her voice. “I did not agree to this, and I am not agreeing to this.”

“Your agreement does not matter,” Harrold said. “You father is not alive to decide. As a captain in the town and on behalf of the whole community of Strindlos, I am making the decision. You will be married and settle down and stop interfering with the men of the Trondelag.”

“Captain Jarl and Captain Rune, and Chief Kerga will not agree with you. Mother Vrya will speak against you.”

“They are not here,” he said and brushed passed her with a final thought. “You might want to put on your blue dress.”

Kirstie let out a scream before she began to cry and Yrsa came to hold her. She thought about Wilam first thing, but she did not know what to think about Wilam. She honestly had no reason to suppose he had feelings for her. She thought about Kare. She thought about him since she was thirteen. She always figured she would end up married to him, but this was not what she had in mind. Of course, in her culture marriages were arranged, though usually by the father. Sometimes men and women did not even know each other before they married. It was up to the couple to make it work. With Kare, Kirstie figured it would be up to her to make it work.

The Last American

August 28, 2024June 30, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Dirk held up the handgun and checked to see if it was still in working order. It had been a long time since he held a gun in his hand, legally.

“Say Mister Parker, what are we supposed to do with these?” Billy waved his gun around like a fourth of July sparkler. Dirk grabbed the young man’s hand, snatched the gun and checked to be sure the safety got engaged.

“You are to leave the safety on at all times, no matter what.” He pointed to the lever.

“No matter what.” Billy echoed what he heard, nodded, and stopped moving when he got the gun back in his hands. He stared at the weapon like it might be something strange and alien.

“Listen up!” Maggie called and waved her arms to bring the group together.

“I wonder how she got permission for these,” Dirk mumbled. He stuck his weapon in his jacket pocket and walked to the near side of the parking lot where everybody started to gather. Maggie stood part-way up some steps so she could be seen and heard by all.

Billy dutifully stared at his gun while he walked, but he looked up briefly to speak. “Permit, you think. Government don’t let anyone have guns anymore.”

“Union.” Dirk suggested. Maggie remained boss of the local, not that they had an election in a while, or any jobs for that matter.

“Listen up!” Maggie yelled at the stragglers. “Now, he slipped by us at LaGuardia, but we followed hot on his butt to this old factory. His vehicle crashed on the other side where Pete and Charley have the doors covered. He may be hurt, so when you go in, be careful because he might fight back like some wounded animal, you hear me?” People nodded. “The guns are only a precaution, for self-defense.”

“My ass,” one man hollered and a few of the people around him laughed.

“Damn it, Barry. I mean it!” Maggie looked like she meant it. “I want his ass alive and hauled into court where it belongs.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Barry nodded and pretended to be properly humble.

Maggie frowned before she started to divide the group into pairs. “Call out if you find him.” Maggie said it over and over. She handed Dirk an old cell phone and assigned him and Billy to the second floor, west wing. “Call if you find him.”

Dirk nodded, and shoved Billy up the outside steps.

“What do you think our chances are?” Billy asked when they stopped on the platform just outside the door.

Dirk paused. “Not bad, actually. I used to work in this factory before it got shut down some thirty years ago.” He looked back and forth to get his bearings. “Offices were on the second floor, west wing.”

“I thought you were a social studies teacher.” Some surprise could be heard in Billy’s voice.

“I went back to school.” Dirk focused again on his companion. “Something you should think about doing.” He opened the door and shoved the young man to get him inside. He followed and waited for the heavy metal fire door to clunk shut behind him. Of course, he got tossed out of the school system after twenty years because he insisted on teaching real, undistorted history instead of the social agenda crap the government insisted on.

“Propaganda,” Dirk mumbled the word.

“What?” Billy asked. Dirk looked at the young man and shook his head at the spin and lies that must fill that poor oatmeal in his noggin.

“Quiet.” He placed a hand on Billy’s shoulder. “Remember, we are going to capture the man, not hurt him.” Cordell Thomas had been a good man, even if he shut down the factory and moved the jobs overseas. Dirk remembered how the man used to walk the factory floor all those years ago, and he remembered Mister Thomas going out of his way, on several occasions, when some poor schlump employee got faced with a sudden difficulty, like a medical emergency. Dirk might have been mad about the shutdown. Hell, he still got mad about giving his job to some poor underpaid Asian, but he understood it had been a business decision, and the blame belonged on the heads of the board and the stockholders as much as on the man. It didn’t make Cordell Thomas a bad man.

“Mister Parker?” Billy looked impatient

“Hush.” Dirk took his hand back from Billy’s shoulder to put a finger to his lips. He waved and Billy followed.

Dirk led his companion carefully through the dim light that came in through the few dirty windows in that part of the factory, while his mind recalled the days of his youth. He always saw himself as a line foreman when he got older. On good days, he considered going into sales and working his way up the ladder. Sometimes he dreamed of managing the whole factory. He planned to have a good life; but people could still dream back then. Nowadays, it didn’t matter what job a man worked, or even if he worked at all. Everyone got the same basic pay and public benefits. They called it fair that way.

Dirk heard a sound in the corner of the conference room. Billy whipped out his gun and pulled the trigger. “Click, click, click.” Dirk saw by the light that came in through the open door that it was only a rat scurrying around the corner. Dirk frowned at the young man beside him and ripped the gun from the youngster’s hands.

“Dipstick,” he mumbled.

“I was startled. I got scared.” Dirk could see that in Billy’s eyes.

“Cordell Thomas won’t hurt you.” Dirk attempted to reassure his companion. “He isn’t that kind of man.” He checked to make sure the safety stayed on and handed the gun back to Billy with instructions. “Stick this in your jacket pocket and leave it there.”

Billy nodded as they left the conference room.

They searched the long room where all the secretaries and bookkeepers used to work and got all the way to the receptionist’s desk before they saw anything. They found a union thug at the bottom of the stairs where the door opened out on to the executive parking lot, but the man merely waved.

“I guess he’s not up here,” Billy said. His voice sounded a bit loud. Then Billy’s stomach grumbled, and he checked the time. “Gov-lunch doesn’t open for two hours,” he complained. “I could go home for some noodle soup, but I don’t like using up my allotment like that, you know what I mean?” He looked up at Dirk and stopped babbling when it became clear that Dirk had something in mind.

Dirk turned slowly and waved for Billy to follow him back along the row of desks. They had one more door, one more hall, and one more office to check. Dirk left it for last because it had been the manager’s office, and in the back of his mind, he still respected the place. He also suspected if Cordell Thomas would be found anywhere in the building, it would be in that office.

Sure enough, the big old office safe behind the desk stood wide open and Mister Thomas sat at the desk, staring at the greenbacks in his hands. He had stacks of them, mostly hundreds, and while they were not worth nearly as much as they were back in the day when the American dollar had been the world standard, they were still worth something.

“Hello?” Mister Thomas looked up like he had been expecting them.

“Hold it right there,” Billy hollered. He dropped to one knee, placed his hands on the desk, held his weapon firmly like he had seen on the detective shows. He pointed it at the man by the safe. For the third time that morning, Dirk took the gun from Billy’s hands, and this time he stuck it in his own pocket. He also slapped Billy on the back of the head, hard.

Mister Thomas turned toward his captors and Dirk got a good look at the old man. He still had most of his hair, but it had turned stark white, and stuck up in every direction, like a man who removed a hat and then pulled a sweater over his head without taking the time to find a brush. The man’s eyebrows looked grown out as well and sat heavily over sad looking eyes. The rest of the man’s face just looked old and wrinkled, but Dirk recognized the man and he acknowledged in his heart the time they had shared together.

“Dirk.” Mister Thomas recognized his captor as well. He held up a hand to forestall interruptions until he came out with the name. “Dirk Parker. I remember you.”

“Yes sir, Mister Thomas.”

“Look at all of this.” Mister Thomas showed a few stacks of money and looked at it like he might be remembering an old friend. “There is more than enough here,” he said. “We could share it.”

“Nomph!” Billy found Dirk’s hand clamped across his mouth.

Dirk took out the phone and spoke slowly. “He’s here, second floor, manager’s office in the west wing.” He put the phone down while the old man stood still. His sweaty palms held tight to several bundles of money and he continued to smile, and hope. The responses came in on the phone.

“Good work. On the way.” That was Maggie.

“Is he still alive?” Pete asked.

“Dirk, old buddy. I knew it was smart to get you to help, you having worked here and all.” Charley praised him. Charley and Maggie were Dirk’s neighbors, union people who still had some special privileges in the world of fairness, even if they didn’t have jobs. Dirk looked at his gun and set it with Billy’s gun on the edge of the desk.

When he looked up, he saw Cordell Thomas once again. The man still held out the money, but he no longer smiled. Dirk betrayed no emotion. He knew money would never be the answer to life, but he understood that it had been a better life when everyone had at least some of their own.

“Why did you come back. Mister Thomas?” Dirk asked.

Cordell Thomas withdrew his hands and the money. He looked offended. He straightened his old body until he was as tall as he could be, and he put on his best “boss” face.

“This is my country, too,” he said.

Dirk just shook his head. “I’m not even sure this is my country anymore.” Mister Thomas deflated like a hot air balloon and the two men stood in silence, waiting for the inevitable, until Billy spoke up. The young man’s voice sounded softer than it had all day, and it sounded more respectful, now having seen the sad, old man behind the myth.

“What is he wanted for, anyway?”

“Tax evasion.” Dirk answered just as softly. “Even if he paid all his taxes, they would still convict him of evasion in order take whatever money the man has left.”

Cordell Thomas merely nodded his agreement with that assessment as they heard people in the outer hall. Maggie and two union thugs came in and the thugs grabbed the old man far more roughly than necessary. The poor man limped and appeared to be in pain. Dirk noticed the man’s suit pants were torn at the knee and the jacket had a big gash on the right elbow. It looked like Mister Thomas’ knee might be bleeding, and Dirk guessed it happened when the man crashed his vehicle into the front gate.

“Hey, Charley.” Maggie got on her phone. “There’s a bunch of old money up here. You better get a couple of boys to make sure it all gets picked up for evidence.” Maggie remained a true believer.

Dirk set his phone on the desk beside the guns, and he had a comment. “The last free market capitalist. The last rich man in America.”

“Damn right.” Maggie swore. “Now we are all equal.” She stomped off after Mister Thomas and her goons, and Dirk followed to the secretary’s room and thought that Maggie appeared a little more equal than some. He revised his thinking and mumbled while he walked.

“Yeah, all equally destitute.”

“Hey, Mister Parker.” Billy touched Dirk’s arm. He followed right on Dirk’s tail. “Is that true? Did you really mean that? Was he the last rich guy in the country?”

Dirk just nodded and watched as Billy sat heavily in a chair and put his hands to his head. This would be hard for the young man to process and square with everything he had learned growing up. Dirk waited patiently until Billy became able to speak.

“So, what are we going to do now?” Poor Billy looked as sad and defeated as Mister Thomas. He had spent his whole life hating the rich and wanting to get even and make everything fair. No wonder he looked lost, but Dirk could not let it go at that. He had to correct his young comrade’s words.

“You mean, who do we hate and blame now, and who is going to pay for it all?” Dirk pulled out a contraband cigar and contrary to all laws, he lit it in the office room. He did not care. He felt very alone, like a stranger in his own back yard.

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

MONDAY: Kairos Medieval book 6 Before Sunrise

Happy Reading

Kirstie

After 883 A. D. Trondelag, Norway

Kairos 104 Lady Kristina of Strindlos

+ Yasmina

After 914 A. D. The Hejaz and North Africa

Kairos 105 Princess of Mecca and Medina

1 Married Life

2 Home

3 Helpful Decisions

4 Happy Soon

5 Divorce

6 Sickness and the Cure

7 Unexpected Guests

8 Shame On Us

9 The Journey Begins

10 Trouble at Home

11 The Chase

12 Follow

13 To the New World

14 And Back Again

15 Side Trips

16 Good Men

17 The Rainbow

18 Aesgard to Avalon

19 To Abraxas

20 End and Beginning

Giovanni

After 979 A. D. Venice, Italy, and the Holy Roman Empire

Kairos 106 Don Vincenzo Giovanni, Ringmaster

1 Friends and Strangers

2 Women and Questions

3 Down and Out

4 Old and New

5 Search and Rescue

6 A Morning Visit

7 Sabotage

8 Women and Answers

9 Three Ring Circus

10 Flesh Eaters, Witches, Apes

11 And the Wolv

12 Lost and Found

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

I hope you enjoyed the three short stories posted on this blog, and I hope you enjoy Medieval 6: Before Sunrise. Meanwhile, please consider buying a book and leaving a review to help support the author. It is like a go-fund-me page but you get something in return. Happy Reading

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/M-G-Kizzia/author/B00C0JOS9I

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/MGKizzia