Avalon

Avalon 2.5: Camp du jour

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

            Taken prisoners by a Neolithic tribe with only Roland the elf allowed to go free with their horses, the travelers wonder what awaits in the camp when they meet Ogalalo, the shaman, the one described as a man of power, and magic.

###

            When they arrived in the camp, it looked purely Neolithic, a transient encampment full of wood and bones and skins and stones.  In contrast to the Amazon village, this camp had no sign of pots or metals or even agricultural activity.  This was strictly a hunter-gatherer world.  

            The men were shoved into a tent and Elder Stow immediately broke his bonds.  The Gott-Druk had extraordinary strength and no simple vines could hold him.  Then he set Lincoln and Lockhart free before they sat and waited to see what this Shaman wanted.  They were free of the vines but there were still guards posted just outside the tent, and Lockhart was reluctant to be the first to start the violence.

            “I say we check on the girls,” Lincoln argued.

            “They will be fine,” Lockhart assured him, and he hoped they were not in trouble, but he fingered his knife and imagined the back of the tent would not be too hard to slice.

            The women got a tent of their own.  Once alone, Boston pulled her hands free and stifled her excitement.  “I did it, I did it.  Magic, see?”  She held her hands up and did a little dance, though seated.

            Boston leaned over to untie Katie, but Katie said, “Wait.”  She tugged on the vines and after a second, they snapped.  “Zoe said being elect meant not just blindly accepting whatever the men decide.”

            “That sounds more Amazon.”

            “Probably,” Katie agreed.  “But part of the package is strength.  Strong as any man, she said, and frankly I am tired of hiding it.  I have been hiding it for twenty-seven years, well, twelve or thirteen years anyway.”

            “I don’t want you to hide anything,” a man said, and Boston and Katie whipped their eyes around to see Lockhart’s head sticking through a hole in the back of the tent.  He grinned at them when they heard a sound outside the tent door and Lockhart quickly withdrew and held the hole closed hoping the cut in the tent would not be noticed.

            A young man stepped into the tent and said, “Get to your feet.”  Boston and Katie got up and brushed off their clothes and the young man lifted his eyebrows at the sight.  He turned quickly to the door and shouted, “Hey!  Who cut these two free?”

            “No one,” Boston said.  “We just got tired of being tied.”

            The man showed anger on his face and grabbed Katie by the elbow.  She flat-handed the man’s chest and he flew out of the tent and landed a few feet away hard on his back, possibly with a couple of cracked ribs.  Katie felt sorry about the ribs, but she could not help her smile.  That felt wonderful.  It felt like something she always wanted to do but never let herself do in her whole life.

            The man quickly rose and held his chest as he rushed away to hide.

            The women came out of the front of the tent.  There was a young man in a wolf skin standing by the fire out front, and Boston guessed.  “Ogalalo.”

            Lockhart stepped out from behind one side of the women’s tent while Lincoln and Elder Stow came from the other side.  They flanked the women as Lockhart spoke.  “So what is it you want?”

            Ogalalo said nothing.  He stepped up and looked at each in the face.  He stopped when he came to Elder Stow and raised an eyebrow.  He spoke to the elder.

            “We have no quarrel with the elder races.  You are free to go.”  The others could hear the touch of fear that echoed in the man’s words as he looked away and returned to his place by the fire.  Lockhart repeated his question.

            “What is it you want?”

            Ogalalo simply waved his hand and Boston saw a bluish light escape from the man’s fingers.  It struck each person, and everyone froze where they were, except the Gott-Druk who was spared.  Boston got mad.  The firelight rose in her against the blue, and in a moment she was free even if her friends were still frozen.  But then she was new at this and could not control it well.  The campfire behind Ogalalo also flared and his wolf skin was set ablaze.

            “Sorry!”  Boston spoke right up.  Ogalalo looked startled for a second before he smelled the smoke.  He tore off his wolf skin and dashed it to the ground as Boston repeated, “Sorry.”

            “Little Fire,” Ogalalo said, and he did not sound unkind.  “A big fire, maybe.”  In that moment the sky darkened and the wind picked up suddenly.  There was a wail, like a banshee set loose and the leaves began to shake in the trees.  Boston, Elder Stow, Ogalalo and the people in the camp all looked up and saw a ghost-like creature that began to fly around the camp with great speed like one trying to create a tornado on a clear day.

            The people screamed and ran, some aimlessly in their panic.  Something like lightning shot from the ghost, but Boston noticed it had to become more solid to do that.  The lightning struck at several tents and those tents were set on fire.  Ogalalo lost all concentration, and Katie, Lockhart and Lincoln were slow to come around.  Boston named the creature for Ogalalo and Elder Stow who was searching for his sonic device.

            “Bokarus!  You cannot have us!”

            The bokarus zoomed up and paused to face her and the others.  The expression on that ghost face said it thought it did have them, but Ogalalo did not hesitate.  He grabbed Boston’s hand and she felt something taken out of her gut as she watched a ball of flame form in Ogalalo’s hand.  It shot at the bokarus who had to fly back quickly to avoid being hit.  The bokarus wailed again and began to circle the camp once more, but as long as Ogalalo had his hand up, the ball of flame followed the creature.  What is more, it was gaining.

            Elder Stow finally found his device and he let it rip, though the frequency was mostly above human hearing.  The dogs in the camp howled bitterly, and the bokarus made a sound like pain and rushed away.  The flame ball dissipated and Ogalalo fell to his knees, exhausted.  Boston fell with him.  She felt totally drained.  Katie was right there to hold her up and Lincoln and Lockhart helped Ogalalo back to his feet where they neglected to let go of his arms. 

            Several men came running with spears, but Lockhart put a knife to Ogalalo’s throat and threatened to cut it, so they stopped short.

            “Please,” Ogalalo begged.  “I mean you no harm.  You are free to take your things and go.”

            “It’s alright,” Boston said.  She had seen inside the man enough to know what motivated him.  He was desperately in love with a woman who did not love him in return.  All Boston could see was sadness.  She missed the cunning.  She should have remembered the wolf

            As soon as Ogalalo was set free, he stepped back and called his men to come in close.  “You brought the bokarus creature among us.  I saw how it looked at you.  If we sacrifice your lives to it, it will leave us alone.”  He was thinking like a cave man.

            “On the contrary,” Katie stood and placed Boston in Lockhart’s arms.  She stepped right up to Ogalalo’s face and was not at all worried about the ring of men with spears.  “The bokarus wants us for itself.  If you let us go, it will follow us and leave you alone.  If you kill us, you will make it mad by depriving it of its prey.”

            Ogalalo would have to think about that.  He did not get much time before a woman’s voice echoed through the camp.  “Ogalalo.  Let my friends go!”

###

Avalon 2.5:  Unbroken … Next Time

.

Avalon 2.5: Broken Days

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

.

After 3675 BC , The Northeastern U. S. woodlands.  Kairos life 25: Huyana

.

Recording…

.

            “Where are we?” Boston asked again.

            Lincoln could only shrug.  “My guess is somewhere between Pennsylvania and Nova Scotia.  The database is not exactly clear.”

            “Smells like upstate New York,” Roland said.

            “As good a guess as any,” Lincoln responded.

            “How do you figure?” Boston asked.

            “I can smell the fall foliage, and the recent man-made campfires.  Smells like man-made global warming to me.”  He was kidding.

            “I had an earth science class in college,” Boston said.  “I remember there was a kid who answered man-made global warming for every question.  The sad thing was he got a B.”

            “The sad thing is earth science and global warming for that matter are impossible to calculate without knowing how the actions of all the little spirits of the earth connect to it all.”

            “How do you figure?”

            “Huyana.”

            “That is the one we are looking for,” Lincoln interrupted from behind.  “Another woman if you were wondering.”

            “She is also sometimes called Mojave,” Roland ignored the interruption.

            “Mojave?”

            “Yes,” Lincoln started to speak, but with a look from Roland he shut off the database and put it away.  Then Roland began.

            “Father would know this story well, but as I remember it, she was an unruly and not exactly popular child.”

            “Always picked last for the team?”

            “Yes, well, she wanted the power to get even, and by the time she became a teenager, she found out she did have power over the little spirits of the earth.  She was suffering.  They call it dementia, and in a fit of teenage pique one day she called all of her little ones to come to her.  The gods prevented most of them, but the ones that were near could not resist or be prevented.  Suddenly a whole swath of plains was depopulated and despoiled.  Without the Little Ones to tend it, it all rotted.”

            “Don’t tell me.  The Mojave Desert.”

            “Actually, yes.  They say it was Maya, the Corn Woman who healed her as well as she could be healed.  Huyana realized what she had done and regretted it, but it was too late for many in her own village.  They had to move, and quickly to survive, and Huyana was exiled.  She wandered some five years, slowly going East and North.  She may have been looking for the Amazon lands in the East, now that I consider the last time zone.  Some think that might have been the case.  But for whatever reason, she finally settled in the woodlands of the northeast, and that is where we are.”

            “This is a good place for lunch,” Lockhart spoke up from behind, and the group that had been listening to Roland paused to look around.  They were in a clearing in the forest where a circle of stones was already set for a fire.  A clear, bubbling stream wandered by just down a little slope from the camp. 

            “Good choice,” Katie dismounted and wandered up to look at the ashes in the fireplace.  She met Roland there who wanted to estimate how long ago people camped there.

            “Three days,” he decided.  “Not Alexis,” he added for Lincoln who was just getting down.

            Elder Stow got down with a groan.  “I will never get used to riding on the back of that beast,” he said.  “I am thinking I will end up bow-legged and looking like a gorilla.”  The others did not have the heart to tell the Neanderthal he already looked something like a gorilla, certainly more gorilla-like than an ordinary human.

            The travelers gathered around the circle of stones for a moment of pleasant conversation when a dozen men dropped down out of the trees, spears in hand.  Roland and Katie started to jump to the defense, but Lockhart grabbed each by an arm.  “No reason anyone should get hurt,” he said.  “Let us see what they want.”

            The warriors or hunters, unpainted, went straight for the horses and pulled all the rifles.  “They seem to know something,” Lincoln remarked.

            “Father,” Roland said.  “He has great mind magic as witnessed by the fact he has kept Alexis enchanted for so long.  I would guess Zoe successfully delayed him from exiting her world and he imagined we were getting too close.”

            One man stepped up to the elf and sneered.  “Not you,” he said.  “You can go.  Tell the witch of the woods we have no quarrel with her.”

            “Hey, Tumak, do you think these animals will be good to eat?”

            Roland stepped to the horses and spoke to the man.  “Touch one animal and I will see you haunted until you go mad and eat your own children.”  He quickly tied the horses in a line, using the rope from Decker’s bag.  Then he mounted and trotted off with a word to the group, in English.  “I will find you.  Boston, don’t be afraid of the magic inside you.  I love you.”

            “I love you, too,” Boston said even as the men poked their spears in the traveler’s direction and told them to move.

            The men had tied their hands behind with vines and now pushed them forward.  “We still have our pistols,” Katie pointed out, though they were hardly worth much with their hands tied.

            “I think Mingus wanted to delay us, not harm us,” Lockhart suggested.  He got a slap in his back with the butt end of a spear for speaking.  Katie turned.

            “Do that again and I will hurt you,” she told the man.  The man paused.  He clearly saw something in Katie’s eyes.

            “No more!” The head man shouted.  “Let them walk.  The Shaman will decide.”

            There was silence all around for a long mile.  Finally, Boston edged up toward the front.

            “Tumak?” Boston guessed the speaker was the leader of this hunting group and the man confirmed her guess when he turned his head to look at her.  “Your Shaman is a man of power?”  A year ago, Boston never would have asked such a question.  Even a month ago after seeing fairy magic and the magic of the little ones, she might not have asked.  But now that she had seen some small power in herself, she knew ordinary humans were not immune.  There really were witches in the old world, so she asked.

            “Ogalalo is a mighty man,” Tumak confirmed.  “He can do things, magic things beyond your dreaming, young doe.”

            “I am not such a young doe, but I have been called Little Fire,” Boston responded.  The man looked again.

            “So I see.”  He eyed her red hair, a color he surely never saw before.

            “Yes, and I advise caution.  You don’t want to get burned.”

            “Keep moving,” the man beside her said, and Boston quieted.

###

Avalon 2.5:  Camp du Jour … Next Time

‘

Avalon 2.4: Fight to the End

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

            The oldest war of all is that between men and women.

###

            Zoe led the others down to the open field and stopped some distance from the line of men.  Chloe and Zoe got down, and Iris held the reins.  Katie stayed up on her big stallion where she could look down on all the others and she held her rifle gently in her arms like a mother might hold a baby, just in case.

            After a short wait, three riders came out from the other side.  Two of them looked like tough old hunters who were no strangers to battle.  The man in the middle looked to be Zoe’s age and appeared in Katie’s mind like the proverbial tall, dark and handsome that she so despised.  That man dismounted when he arrived to face Zoe.

            “The child,” The one who also dismounted to hold the reins recognized Chloe.

            “She is here only to observe,” Zoe said quickly.  “She will be Queen after I am gone and must learn.”

            The dark man paid no attention to the girl.  His eyes were all on Zoe and he stepped up to face her.  He was a head taller than her and looked very strong and in excellent shape for a middle-aged man.  He looked down at her when he spoke.

            “Zoe,” he said.

            “Revelon,” she responded, and they simply looked at each other for a long minute before he spoke again.

            “Are you expecting to die so you have selected a Queen to follow after you?”

            “I am not even expecting to fight unless you insist on the foolishness.”

            Revelon touched his well-trimmed, dark beard that was only just showing signs of the coming gray.  “Lord Ares is not pleased with what you have done, you know.  You stand in the way of wars between many lands and build a nation of women.”  Revelon shivered slightly, turned up his nose and spoke his sentiment.  “It is unnatural.”

            “Ares has no place here,” Zoe said.  “And peace is always better than war.”

            “Ares is welcomed all along the coast of the sea.”

            “And he better not show his face, besides.  He has been warned, you know,” Zoe finished her thought.

            Revelon took one step back.  “I will never understand the attitude you sometimes display toward the gods.  It is a wonder to me why they don’t strike you down dead where you stand.”

            “Because they know I speak out of love,” Zoe said in a very coy voice.

            “What do you know of love?” Revelon suddenly sounded angry.  “You are not haunted by it and unable to sleep,” he yelled.

            “You do not know how I sleep.  Everything haunts me,” she yelled back.

            “But for you, love is a mere moment of passing pleasure.  It is the man, not the woman who goes away feeling ashamed.  It is unnatural.  You are unnatural.”  The man drew his sword and took a great swing at Zoe’s head.  She ducked, stepped back and drew her own sword from across her back.  They went back and forth for a good five minutes, and Zoe got in the stronger blows, but after five minutes, Revelon stepped back and raised his hand.  Zoe waited.

            Revelon threw his broken copper sword away.  The man who was still mounted put a new sword there.  “I brought extras,” Revelon said.

            Zoe lifted her sword and looked at it.  “Bronze,” she said with a glance at Katie.  “That won’t happen for another thousand years.

            “It is a wonder to remember that some of the gods actually like you.”

            “Hephaestus does good work,” Zoe said, and they started again.  This time they traded barbs between swings.  They got nasty, personal and ugly.  And it went on for another five minutes before there was an explosion in the rear among the men.  Everyone stopped and a beautiful young woman appeared behind Chloe.  She put her hands on Chloe’s shoulders and looked around.  Iris went straight to her knees.

            “Hello Chloe, Zoe, Katie,” the woman said.  She knew them all, well.

            Katie squinted, but recognized something in the bow, the dark hair and sparkling eyes.  She swallowed before she said the woman’s name.  “Artemis.”  Artemis smiled for her and she smiled down at Chloe who took one look with her mouth open and then closed her eyes like she was waiting to see if those soft, motherly hands on her shoulders were going to hurt.

            “Poor Boston couldn’t keep the wall up any longer, and Roland refused to help her more,” Artemis reported.  She looked at the two men with Revelon and they jumped.  All of their weapons vanished.  “I hate poison knives.  That’s cheating.”

            “What?” Revelon was too angry to think straight.  “So you blew up my sorcerer?”

            “No, I did that,” a man said as he appeared on the men’s side of the action.  “I hate magic.  That’s cheating.”

            “Ares,” Zoe named the man and she did not say the name like he was a particular friend at the moment.

            Revelon’s anger finally overflowed.  He threw his weapon away and took a swing at Zoe’s head with his fist.  Zoe dropped her weapon and swung back.  Revelon got in a few good hits, but again Zoe got the better of it.  She beat the man.  He kept trying to grab her to wrestle, believing his weight would prove to his advantage, but Zoe used the man’s weight against him and tossed him in several directions.  Still, he got up and came back for more. 

            At last he grabbed Zoe by the shoulders, and though she tossed him, this time he did not let go.  When he landed on his back, Zoe landed on top of him, and they stopped and lay there, face to face for a long time.  Revelon finally spoke.

            “Can I at least see our daughter?”

            “Of course,” Zoe said as she appeared to squirm a little to find a more comfortable position.  “You know the rules.”

            “Come alone and unarmed,” he said and Zoe nodded.  “But you know I could steal a weapon after I arrive.”  He was being clever.

            “You would not live long enough to make it out of the valley.”

            “I will not be a consort.”

            “I don’t want a consort.”

            “Good, so we understand each other,” Revelon said and he reached his hand behind Zoe’s head to draw down her lips.  After that it was hard to tell who kissed who more passionately.

            Chloe turned away embarrassed, and Artemis looked away with her.  “I agree,” the goddess said.

            “I hate happy endings,” Ares said and disappeared.

            Revelon and Zoe stood and immediately turned away from each other.  Zoe retrieved her sword while Revelon made sure there were no stray weapons to be found on his person or the back of his horse.  Katie holstered her rifle as Revelon turned to his men.  “Tell the men the bitch defeated me once again.  Tell them to wait, I will be back in a few hours.”  Zoe coughed.  “Tell them I’ll be back in the morning.”

            Zoe gave Artemis a sisterly kiss on the cheek and Artemis kissed her in return before she vanished.  Iris got up, but looked reluctant to touch Chloe so Katie called her over so she could ride with her.  It was four horses that climbed back up the hillside, Katie with Chloe, Zoe, Iris and a humble Revelon.

            The Sybil took Amira on her pony again.  Roland tied the reins of Boston’s horse to his saddle and picked up the sleeping Boston very gently.  He cradled her in his arms as they followed the procession back to the village.

###

            Lockhart filled Elder Stow’s tankard with that poor ale they were drinking.  The Gott-Druk had no jokes to tell.  He swore his people had no sense of humor, but he laughed readily enough, and all the more as he drank, even if he did not drink much.  The four woman escort them stayed with them as well as the husband and wife that brought all the food, and they laughed as well, no matter how bawdy the jokes got.

            One of the escort got close to Lincoln and only looked slightly disappointed when he said he was married.  Two of the others cozied up to Lockhart and they were not at all put off when he said he was seeing someone.

            “Harper?”  Lincoln asked.

            “Of course Harper,” Elder Stow yelled.  “Your human eyes are too small.  The mother-father relationship is as plain as can be to my big eyes.”

            “Oh, I see it,” Lincoln responded.  “I just wanted to see if Lockhart might be too embarrassed to admit it.”

            Lockhart said nothing.  He was feeling very much like a sixty-eight year old man.  Then he thought of Katie and felt like a teenager.  It was confusing.

            The door opened and Zoe came in followed by a man with a little girl in his arms.  The escort slid away from Lockhart and Lincoln and looked a little embarrassed, especially when Elder Stow laughed.  The couple that brought the food stood, bowed and exited no doubt to get more food.

            “Fine chefs you have,” Lincoln told Zoe, but before she could answer, two women came in carrying a cot.  Roland followed with a sleeping Boston that he laid down gently and covered with a blanket.  Katie came in next and went straight to Lockhart.

            “Sadie Hawkins,” she said and bent down to plant one right on his lips before she moved a chair up to sit beside him.

            “I said I was seeing someone,” Lockhart told the young women who looked at each other and scooted a bit further away from the elect.

            The Sybil was the last to come in.  She had an arm around each of the sisters, Chloe and Amira.  They looked happy, and Chloe began to cry.  This caused Katie and Zoe to both turn to her, but Amira stopped them with her hand and her word.

            “It’s okay.  She is just so happy to be home.”  And Chloe nodded and proceeded to hug everyone in the room, except maybe Revelon and Elder Stow.

            “I like this place,” Lincoln slurred through his ale.  “It is quiet.  Nothing ever happens here.”  He laid his head down on the table and shortly began to snore, and the two women who brought in the cot were sent to fetch some more.

###

            Depression, anxiety and a little dementia are hard to cope with, especially when there is not a convenient pharmacy on the local street corner.  Heck, around 3650 BC there aren’t even any streets, or corners for that matter.  But when the dementia strikes the Kairos, that means the travelers need to figure out this time zone on their own.

Avalon 2.5:  Broken Days … Next Time.

…

Avalon 2.4: Unexpected Magic

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

            Ah, Mary Riley but everybody calls her Boston, there are more secrets to be revealed.  It isn’t the fact that she is in love with Roland, the Elf,  That is a secret even a child could see.  The Sybil called her Little Fire, but not just because she had short, red hair.

###

            The Sybil got back up on her pony and had Roland help Amira up so the girl could ride with her.  Roland and Boston remounted to follow as instructed, but the Sybil paid them no attention at first.  She turned her pony back the way they had come, right out of the village, through the farmland, and right back up the hill to the cliff face border, all the while whispering to Amira like she was already beginning her time of instruction.

            One of the defenders rode off as they arrived.  Several men were walking back down the far side of the hill to the open field.  They could see the army of men still arrayed there, a hundred or more, and Boston and Roland wondered what had transpired.  They did not have time to ask.  The women defenders were too busy bowing their heads to the Sybil and to the elf, and checking their defenses, and the Sybil spoke.

            “Come.”  She led them to a place aside where they could sit among the rocks, face each other and still keep an eye on the men in the plains.

            “You are betrothed?” Amira spoke up as soon as they sat and the Sybil hushed the girl and in a kind way scolded Amira for speaking out of turn while Boston and Roland looked at each other for a long second.

            “I haven’t asked her,” Roland said.

            “I haven’t asked him either,” Boston agreed.

            The Sybil instructed Amira.  “It is not always wise to say everything you see.  You cannot see their faces or the language of their bodies so it will be especially hard for you.  You are young.  You see the love in their hearts, and know it is true and it is exciting and, um, romantic at your age.  I understand.  I was young once myself, believe it or not.  But you must understand that it is not your place to make decisions or to use what you see to manipulate others.  You must never be the decider.  The goddesses will be very cross with you if you try to decide or control things or make them come out the way you want.  We have a Queen who decides.  That is her place.  And people must make their own decisions for their own lives.  You keep your thoughts to yourself.”  The words were sharp, but not cruel.

            “I’m sorry,” Amira responded, and she sounded like she meant it.

            “Besides, that is not what we are here for.”

            “Why are we here?” Roland wanted to change the subject.  He glanced at Boston and saw that she agreed with him.

            “We are here for the magic,” the Sybil said.  “Amira.”  The old woman waited for the young girl to speak.  Amira paused first, like she wanted to get it right and not say too much or too little.

            Amira covered her eyes with her hand as she spoke which said to Boston that the girl could perceive light and dark, and the light might be interfering with her vision.  “There is a man of magic among the men down below.  You are the only two people of magic among us right now.  We ask if you might be willing to, inter…”

            “Interfere.”

            “If you might be willing to interfere with the man’s magic so the events that take place below may happen without interference.”  Amira uncovered her eyes and smiled.

            “It is not the way of the elves to intrude in human events,” Roland answered.  Boston had another thought.

            “I don’t have any magic.”

            “But you do,” Amira blurted out.  “It is more than enough, and I feel it.”

            “Amira!”  The Sybil scolded again and the girl fell silent.  The Sybil turned to Boston.  “I understand in your world magic is considered foolishness.  In you it has been blocked by many things, but mostly by your own thoughts and words.  Your, um, preconceptions.”

            “No, you don’t understand.  I tried to do magic when I was a little girl.  I couldn’t do anything.  Even after I saw what Alexis could do, I still couldn’t do anything at all.”  There was the sound of desperation in Boston’s voice, like she would give anything to be able to do magic.

            “The truth is magic comes with maturity, like the strength of the elect.  I understand in your world by the time people are mature magic is considered a childhood fantasy.  The pressure to be adult is overwhelming and even seeing magic with the evidence of your own eyes, the mind’s way is to invent some reason to explain why she can and you can’t.” 

            “Like reminding yourself that Alexis was once an elf and that must be the source of her magic,” Roland interjected.

            “By the time you were old enough, you were convinced that magic for you was not possible.”

            “You mean?”  Boston did not finish the sentence.  She thought quietly for a second before another thought crossed her mind  “But what about you, don’t you have any magic?  Can’t you take care of whatever it is you need magic for – that man?”

            The Sybil shook her head.  “It is forbidden for a seer to practice magic.  It is also forbidden for an elected one.  The gods are very careful about not concentrating such power in one person’s hands, and would be swift to punish any who try to defy those boundaries.”

            “But.”  Again Boston did not finish her thought before she had another thought.  “What can I do?”  She had no confidence in the matter.

            “By yourself, right now, nothing.  It is up to the elf.  He alone has the power to unblock you and he can teach you all that you need know about the ways of magic to exercise your power.”  The Sybil smiled at the elf.

            Roland felt trapped.  He responded with a frown which he turned first on Amira, though she could not see his face.  He turned the frown to the Sybil and spoke.  “It is also forbidden for elf kind to be involved in the events of women.  But you knew I would do this thing for Boston.  I don’t think I like you.”  He did like the Sybil and thought Amira was precious, but the Sybil had the good sense not to correct him.

            Roland put out his hand, and for the first time Boston hesitated.  She looked the elf in the eyes and found some reassurance there so at last she settled her hand comfortably in his and closed her own eyes.  After a moment she began to glow very softly in a fire yellow, slightly orange color.  She could not see the man or the field or anything like a seer, but she sensed the dark power not far away and with Roland directing, she set her firelight up against that power like a wall.  Roland cheated and added a bit of himself to the wall just to be sure.  That power seemed very dark.

            The wall wavered and nearly fell completely as horses came by.  Boston looked and saw it was Zoe and Katie.  Chloe was riding with Iris.  They were going down the hill and out to the field.  But then Boston closed her eyes again and concentrated and the wall became firm.  She still had her doubts, but could not help thinking about pulling rabbits out of hats for real.

###

Avalon 2.4:  Fight to the End … Next Time

.

Avalon 2.4: The Elect

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

            Both Chloe, the young girl native to 3700 BC, and Lieutenant Katie Harper, the Marine from the early twenty-first century have been called “Elect,” and neither one of them has any idea what that means.

###

            They arrived in front of a great, long log house and found a woman of about thirty-five years standing out front.  The travelers had no doubt who this was.  Her hair had the same extra light golden brown look that the Princess had and she was also clearly a warrior, being in the same excellent health and Princess shape.  She was the same height as the Princess as well, or just a smidgen taller at about five foot, eight, which made her a very tall woman in that world.  But the give-away was the armor she wore.  It was the armor of the Kairos they had seen before.  Only her eyes were not like the Princess, being sparkling green instead of penetrating blue, and while this woman, this Kairos was beautiful, perhaps very beautiful, she was not the Princess.

            “Glen?”  Boston felt obliged to say it.

            Zoe frowned before she smiled and said, “No.  But about time you got here, Boston.  I was getting ready to worry.”

            “We had some followers,” Lockhart said.  “No big deal.”

            “Revelon,” Iris said as they all dismounted.

            Zoe nodded before she spoke.  “Lockhart, Lincoln and Elder Stow, you need to go with the escort.  They have prepared a place for you and some food.  Roland, you and Boston need to escort Amira and my Sybil wherever the Sybil tells you.  Katie, you and I need to talk.  Iris, go fetch Minas.  Chloe, come in.”  And with that said, Zoe turned and stepped inside the long, log house that had to be city hall and the national government offices as well.

            “What is this place?”  Katie looked around and found Chloe stuck close to her side.

            “The hall of the goddesses,” Zoe said.  “You may meet one or more at their pleasure, of course.”

            “Goddesses?” Chloe spoke with a shiver in her voice.

            “Chloe,” Zoe put her arm out to invite the girl in.  Chloe looked at Katie first.

            “Go on,” Katie said.  “Zoe is probably the best person you will ever meet.”

            “Now, I don’t know about that,” Zoe said as Chloe stepped in close and Zoe slipped her arm over Chloe’s shoulder.

            “Man or woman,” Katie said.  “I haven’t found one to complain about yet.”

            Zoe did not answer directly.  She brought them to the center of the room where a table was laid out with all sorts of fruits and vegetables, greens, flowers and breads.  “Our offering table,” Zoe said.  “No blood, though some of the goddesses would not mind if there was.  We always give the best of the first fruits.  You must learn this if you would be Queen.”

            “Me?”  Chloe asked and looked back again at Katie.  “But you are the Queen,” she spoke to Zoe.

            “But the gods require me in some way I cannot explain, but I cannot be Queen for much longer.  Someone must be Queen and you are the elected one.  In the future days, there may be regents, but only an elect can be Queen of the Amazons.”

            “What about Katie?”  Chloe took a step back.

            “I don’t belong here,” Katie said.  “And I don’t even know what an elect is.”

            “One in a million,” Zoe said.  “Though in your day with over a billion inhabitants that has become more like one in ten million.”

            “But what does it mean, elect?”  Chloe asked.

            Zoe squatted before the girl and took her hands.  “An elect one is a woman with a strong mind and a pure heart who is gifted by the gods to protect and defend her family and community.  Strong as any man, she has great speed, dexterity, agility and coordination.  She has a high threshold for pain, is hard to injure, but when hurt, she heals quickly.  An elect has an uncanny ability with whatever weapon comes to hand, but she can fight just as well with no weapon at all.  She is a strategic and tactical thinker with great energy, perseverance and courage.”  Zoe turned her eyes on Katie and stood but kept hold of one of Chloe’s hands.  “Does that sound about right, Katie?”

            Katie shook her head to deny it, but Zoe would not let her.

            “Didn’t you out shoot and out run and beat up the boys in your training?  Even back in high school and college I am sure you surprised yourself and often deliberately kept yourself hidden.”

            “No, I –“

            “And on this trip you matched Decker, the expert Navy Seal every step of the way, though you are a lowly scholar.  Don’t think the Marines did not notice.  That is why you are here.”

            “No, but –“

            “Minas.”  Minas stood.  They had not seen Minas and Iris come in.  The two women were kneeling with their heads bowed.  “Iris, give me your sword.”  Iris gave it to Zoe who immediately handed it to Katie.  “Minas came to us just a few years ago, but she has learned quickly.”  Minas was one of those women who were much too big and strong to ever play the helpless role.

            “But I have never held a sword before,” Katie admitted and felt good that she knew which end to hold.

            “Then this should be fun,” Minas said, and she drew her own sword, and smiled.  Katie felt cornered as Minas made three quick swings.  Katie backed up and parried, but on the third, a backstroke, Katie lost her grip and her sword crashed to the floor and slid well out of her reach. 

            Minas hesitated until Zoe said, “Finish it.”  She moved in, but Katie dropped to the floor and kicked Minas’ feet out from beneath.  Katie at least knew Karate.  As Minas stumbled, Katie rolled and grabbed her sword.

            This time, Katie was the one swinging, and Minas was hard pressed to counter.  Katie might have been swinging out of fear, but it seemed more than Minas could handle.  In a moment, Minas was backed to one of the many posts in the room that held up the ceiling.  The last stroke was hard enough to wrench Minas’ arm.  She dropped her sword and grabbed her arm as if it might be dislocated.

            “Oh, I’m sorry,” Katie used the line she had used since she was Chloe’s age.  It was the first part of her litany about how it was an accident and she was just lucky and it probably would not happen that way again in a million years.  But she did not get to say it all.  Zoe interrupted.

            “Give Iris her sword,” Zoe ordered, and Katie did.  “Here.”  Zoe tossed a knife to Katie, or at her, but in any case, Katie caught the knife without being cut.  “Now, Iris, kill her.”

            “Majesty?”

            “Kairos?”

            “You heard me,” Zoe said and she squeezed Chloe’s hand to keep her out of it.

            Iris was trained to the weapon since she was a baby, and this strange woman only had a knife, but Iris was wary.  She circled and danced in and out at first to test Katie’s defenses  Katie turned the knife back and countered every stroke, but she felt confused.  It was all happening too fast to think.  At once, Iris moved in for the kill, but instead of backing up as expected, Katie appeared to be waiting for this and moved in as well.  That move negated Iris’ longer reach sword and made the knife the stronger weapon.  Katie could have cut Iris, badly, but instead she kicked Iris in the solar plexus.  Iris flew back several yards and crashed her back against one of the poles.  Her sword clattered to the floor while she groaned.   But then Iris was trained well.  She quickly got to her knees as Katie hovered over her.  Iris bowed her head in submission and spoke.

            “Elect.”

            Zoe let go and Chloe ran up to hug Katie.  “That was wonderful.  That was magnificent, and with only a knife against a trained sword.

            “But I have been trained to fight,” Katie said with a look at Zoe who shook her head.

            “Iris was trained to fight since she was a baby, and trained with knives and swords, and with her hands and feet.  You are an elected one, and you know it.”

            “But how did you know?”

            “I have known since the beginning, but I could not say anything until now.  The whole idea of being elect has just begun with this generation.  One in a million, and right now at Chloe’s age they may be found anywhere around the globe.”  Zoe turned to Chloe.  “You will become stronger as you reach maturity, but remember, finesse can beat strength if you know what you are facing.   You will learn to fight.”  Chloe looked excited by that idea, but Katie wondered if being an elect was such a good thing as Zoe turned to her again.  “Can’t you feel it?  Can’t you feel it in Chloe.  Look at Iris and Minas.  They are both warriors, but Chloe is different.”

            Katie paused and looked at Iris.  Then she looked at Minas.  Finally she looked at Chloe and Zoe beside her and nodded.  “I do feel it.  I understand what you are saying, but I don’t feel it in me.”

            “I do,” Chloe said, and her eyes got big.

.

Avalon 2.4: Unexpected Magic … Next Time

.

Amazon 2.4: A Country for Young Women

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

.

            With the help of the Amazons, the travelers outrun the “bad men” to the safety of the Amazon border, only now they are curious and a bit concerned to see what this fabled land contains.

###

            The travelers, the old woman and a half-dozen young women rode down into a valley full of huts, simple homes and farmland.  Both the village and the distant sea – the Black Sea could be seen from the heights but both disappeared behind the horizon as they came down the hill.  The mountains turned out to be off to their right and still some distance away.  The coast land was hilly, but held the promise of several such fertile valleys.

            There were men in that valley, not nearly equal in number to the women, but some were armed.  One looked like he just returned from a hunt and arrived in time to kiss his wife.  The people gave no notice to the group of armed women on horseback.  They did show some interest in the strangers, though the travelers all supposed it was the mustangs they were really interested in.

            As they approached the village, Katie perked up her nose.  “Foundary,” she said, and amended her word.  “Blacksmith.”

            “Not iron,” Lockhart said, but it was a question.

            “Probably copper, tin and other soft metals.  But just so you know, I don’t intend to leave here without taking a good look.”

            “And the potter,” Iris said and she looked back at the couple.  “My sister is the potter.”

            “I thought all Amazons were like sisters,” Lockhart said, and again it was a question.

            “After a fashion,” Iris responded.  “But some of us are blood as well.”

            “I want to see it all,” Chloe said, but she had to hold on to her seat.  She was not used to horses and Iris’ pony was not as easy a ride as Katie’s with the saddle.

            Boston and Lincoln flanked the old woman who now rode more comfortably at a walking pace.  Roland on the outside held tight to Amira who turned her head everyway as if she was looking at it all and not blind.

            “We are a society of women,” the old woman explained.  Once again she paused to find the right word.  “A matriarchy.  We always have a Queen who may have a consort.  But we treat our men as equals.  There are no slaves here.”

            “Good to know,” Lincoln said.  “My wife would be happy here.”

            “Your wife would be happy where you are,” the old woman responded.  “She is not happy now, but she is remembering.  Give it time.”

            “Be patient?”  Boston was kidding.

            “Little Fire,” the old woman called her.  “If you lived here, that would be your name.”

            “I like that name,” Amira spoke up as Boston turned to look at Roland.

            “It matches your hair,” Roland said.

            “So maybe I’ll shave my head,” Boston responded and Amira and the old woman spoke as one.

            “See?”  It was like she proved their point.

            “But how is it that this land came to be?”  Katie took everyone’s attention.  “And why are there so many women and so many young ones that are mostly girls as far as I can tell.”

            “It is our Queen who saved us from death,” Iris said and then quieted as the old woman coughed and spoke up.  She spoke as loud as she could and even some of the escort leaned in to hear.

            “It began some twenty years ago when a plague devastated the residents of this place.  We are surrounded by many gods and many worlds.  Cimmerians and Scythians to the East with the lands of the Brahmin.  Slavic tribes of all sorts and Asians ride across the northern plains.  Germans rule in the West with the Greeks.  South is the land of the Tigris and Euphrates and the many diverse gods there that stretch all the way to a city I have heard of called Jericho.  South and east also is the no-one’s land of Persia.  This land is in the middle of it all.

            “All of the gods of these worlds around us sent people to attack each other across the borders and over time we became too small in number to defend ourselves and keep the border secure.  When the plague attacked us, we believed it was the end for us, but the gods had something else in mind.  It was the goddesses in particular who saw the real danger in these endless wars.  They feared the gods themselves might go to war and destroy the earth.  They decided a buffer was in order.  Buffer is what Queen Zoe calls it.

            “It was Zoe, the Queen who convinced the goddesses to give her the land.  Then, by her great power, she sent her little ones in search of babies.  All over the world people pray for sons.  Daughters are tolerated, but sometimes they are set out on the rocks to die.  The little ones saved those girls and brought them here to be raised.  My Queen has said it has not done her little ones good in their reputation, to be seen as baby stealers, but now we have a safe place for women to live, though we treat our men well.”

            “So that is why the eldest is generally eighteen or younger,” Boston said.

            “But you are older,” Katie pointed out.

            “Yes, I survived the plague, and there are others, but soon enough we will pass away and this great buffer land will belong to the Amazons and to their daughters.  May they stay ever strong to defend the borders and may the whole council of goddesses from all the halls of all the worlds around speak ever of peace.”

            “So what?”  Boston was listening, but also thinking that whole time.  “We left the Neolithic and suddenly we found civilization?”

            “No,” Katie said.  “Different parts of the world discover things at different rates.  Some only learn of things like horses by trade.  Here they have pottery and plows, copper swords and copper tipped arrows, but that is simply several things, not exactly civilization.  Really, it is only one thing, learning how to make a fire hot enough.  Hot enough to heat metal for shaping is hot enough to bake pots, so it kind of goes together.”

            “So here copper is King,” Lincoln concluded.

            Boston corrected him.  “Here I think copper is Queen.”

 ###

Avalon 2.4:  The Elect … Next Time

.

Avalon 2.4: The Other Side of the Coin

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

            Defending the innocent often has consequences.  The travelers cannot simply abandon the girls when they find the next time gate and move into the next time zone.  They need to find a safe place for them to grow up.  Fortunately, sometimes events can help.

###

            Lincoln and Elder Stow had the morning shift, so they were the first to hear the horses in the distance.  It did not take long to wake everyone, but then there was the problem deciding what to do. 

            “If it is Revelon and the men from the city, our live will be forfeit,” Chloe said.  “I do not wish to cause any more deaths and there will be too many of them.  If it is the women from the East, we will be safe, but I worry about your men.”

            “It is the women,” Amira said.  “But we should all be safe with two elect among us.  Even the men should be safe.”

            “We will be fine,” Lockhart said.  “We will have elect to protect us.”  He slipped is arm around Katie’s shoulder right in front of everyone.  She did not mind, but she elbowed him softly.  Neither knew what Amira meant when she talked about Katie being elected, so it was hard to take it seriously.

            It did not take long to find out Amira was right about one thing.  It was the women, though  Lincoln thought they were more like young girls.  He did not imagine any of them was over eighteen until they brought a horse up from the back where an old lady had been straggling at the rear of the pack.  Lincoln suddenly remembered being that old.  He imagined the woman did her best to keep up.

            There were four large and mean looking women that surrounded the old lady.  Two held the horses while two helped her down and walked on each side of her like Secret Service bodyguards.  The Lady made an unwavering path to Katie where she surprised everyone, even her bodyguards.  She got down on her knees at Katie’s feet.  After a moment of hesitation and a few extra looks at Katie, the bodyguards joined her.

            “Elect,” the woman intoned in her ancient voice.

            Katie looked up at Lockhart, but he could only shrug.  She bent down a little toward the lady.  “Please get up,” and she would have helped if the bodyguards were not there.  The old lady stood slowly, like she was crippled with arthritis, but with her head lowered, she made a straight path to Chloe where she did the same thing and said something that shocked everyone present, including the women still on horseback.

            “My Queen.”

            Chloe’s instinct was to look at her sister, but Amira was simply smiling at her own thoughts.  At last Chloe echoed Katie.  “Please get up,” and the old woman did with a nod and made a new path.  This took her to Amira, and everyone prepared for her to repeat the same ritual; but again she surprised everyone.  She wrapped Amira up in her arms and hugged the girl, and Amira hugged the old lady right back like she was hugging her favorite, long-lost grandmother.  Then at last the old lady turned and spoke to them all.

            “Respect these men.  These two are older than I am in years, but by the grace of the gods they have returned to youth in their bodies.  This one is of the elder races.  Do not be afraid.  He will not harm you.  And this good elf and his betrothed are to be given all respect.  For us, the sign of the little ones is always good fortune.  Respect these men, and respect also these women, the elf wife, the elected one, the Sybil I hold in my arms who will follow after me and the future Queen.  Now let us ride.  The men of Revelon will be here when the sun breaks full above the horizon.”

            “Pack’em up, people!” Lockhart yelled and the travelers jumped to action.  “Chloe, you better ride with Katie.  Amira, stick with Boston.  She is rodeo trained and won’t let you slip from the saddle.”

            One of the women in the pack dismounted quickly and ran up.  “Male, who are you to decide such things?”

            “One far older and wiser than you, Iris,” the old lady said before she began to reach for the words.  “And one trained for this kind of operation.  Did I say that correctly?”  She looked at Katie who responded with a kind smile.

            “Perfectly.”

            “I’ll keep to the rear and protect the old lady,” Lincoln volunteered.

            Amira, Iris and Chloe spoke as one.  “Sybil.”

            “Exactly,” Lincoln said.  He did not explain what he meant, but Lockhart imagined he wanted to ask what she knew about Alexis.

            It took less than an hour to get ready and mounted.  Lincoln lamented not having any explosives they could rig as a surprise for the men.  Elder Stow agreed with him, but Boston scolded them both.

            “Three are dead.  We want to avoid killing any more if it can be helped.” 

            Lincoln understood, but Elder Stow shrugged like it did not matter to him since we were only talking about killing homo sapiens.

            As the twenty women and the travelers rode out, they heard a much larger group of horses in the distance.  Iris, who rode on Katie’s other side shouted when she heard the pursuit.

            “If we can make the border we should be safe.”

            The travelers discovered that these young women were riders.  At every opportunity, they let the horses ride flat out.  Fortunately for the travelers and in particular Elder Stow who was not so good on horseback, the women rode Black Sea ponies that they called horses.  The travelers rode mustangs from the mid nineteenth century American West. They were real horses, the product of millennia of breeding, and as such were far larger, stronger and swifter than anything the women had ever seen. 

            They came at last to a broad plain that stretched out before the hills began that rose into mountains in the distance.  Iris led the troop in an all out gallop to the other side.  The men were close by then.  The women came to a wide path up the rocky hillside that could not otherwise be climbed by horses.  Iris paused there and Katie and Lockhart paused with her as the women began that climb.

            “That cliff face,” Iris pointed.  “It marks the boundary of Amazon territory.  The men will not follow us there.”

            “Good to know,” Lockhart said as he shouldered his shotgun and snatched Katie’s rifle right out of her saddle holster.

            “What are you doing?”  Katie yelled at him.

            “You have responsibilities.”  He nodded at  Chloe and turned back to the bottom of the hill where he dismounted and got behind a boulder.  Lincoln saw and joined him on the other side, and when Lockhart slapped his horse on the rump, his and Lincoln’s horses followed the herd of horses up the hill.”

            “Quick volleys,” Lockhart yelled.  Lincoln nodded and in a second the men were in range.  They fired, rapid fire, and might have hit a few men, but certainly sent several horses to the dirt.  It slowed things, not to mention the oncoming horses did not like the cracking thunder that echoed off the hill.  Several more quick shots and the charge stalled.

            Katie swore as she raced to the top of the hill, faster than Iris or any pony could keep up.  As soon as she arrived, she let Chloe down.  “Ride with Iris,” she ordered, and Chloe did not argue.  Meanwhile, Boston handed Amira to Roland, who protested.

            “You are not trained for this.”  Boston was not going to argue either, but she added, “I would not trust Amira to anyone else.”  Roland helped the girl up as Boston and Katie sprinted for the bottom of the hill.

            “Lockhart!” Katie was the one who yelled as she brought her horse to a sharp halt.  Lockhart tossed her the rifle, and she did not hesitate to use it.  There were men dismounted and coming up on foot with bows.  Lockhart did not watch.  He simply got up behind.

            Boston did it a bit differently.  Lincoln saw her coming, leaning to the side with her hand down.  He quickly shouldered his rifle, caught her hand and swung up behind her as she passed by.  She turned her horse like going around a rodeo barrel and they started back up the hill.

            Several belated arrows came in their direction once the two horses began to go back up the hill.  They fell woefully short, but they were that close.  At the top, Lockhart slid off and whistled.  The horse he had named Dog came trotting right up.  Lincoln also grabbed his steed and mounted.

            Iris left a dozen of the women by the cliff, well hidden and well protected and also well armed.  The rest of the party she led down the other side into Amazon country.

 .

Amazon 2.4:  A Country for Young Women … Next Time

Avalon 2.4: One Side of the Coin

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

.

            Roughly 5715 years in the past and 97 time zones from home, the travelers try to avoid interaction with the locals, and especially violence that might leave a mark on the future, but when two young girls invade their camp and ask for help against the “bad men,” what can they do?

###

            Roland moved out into the dark.  He had the speed, eyes and ears, but was willing to admit in this situation he would not have minded Captain Decker’s help.  Fortunately, they were far enough from the Black Sea to not have the air filled with salt and sea breezes.  He had no dwarf’s nose.  He had to get clear of the cooking fire to pick up anything at all, even anything as smelly as unwashed human males.

            It turned out the men, a dozen, were not hard to find, and not far away.  They had seen the fire in the distance and stopped only to argue about whose fire it might be.  They feared it belonged to what they called the women, and Roland understood they were not talking about the girls in the camp.

            “That blind one gives me the creeps,” one man said.

            “We should kill it,” another suggested.

            “No,” a third protested.  “It may be useful, if properly broken, like a good horse.”

            Roland left them to argue, but he knew they would be along soon enough.  He went back and told the others and they set something of a trap.  The horses were moved to the other side of the clearing in which they camped.  The men backed away from the fire so they would be hidden by the dark.  Boston, Katie and the girls stayed by the fire and talked.  They were the bait. 

            Boston fingered her Beretta.  Katie had her pistol and her army knife just in case.  An escape route had also been planned in case they had to run.  It was where they could get to safety without running across anyone’s line of fire.  And so they waited.

            Lockhart whispered to Lincoln.  “It’s damn cold out here.  After the last time zone I thought I might never say that again.”  Lincoln said nothing, and Lockhart guessed he was still thinking about Alexis

            “It is chilly,” Roland answered for them all as he moved closer to the Gott-Druk to give his arrows the widest possible angle.  Lockhart looked at Elder Stow, but then Lincoln did say something.

            “He has on a space suit.  Even the vacuum of space would not feel cold to him.”

            “Oh,” Lockhart responded before he fell silent.

            It seemed an eternity, but it was less than fifteen minutes before the men came to the clearing.  Only four walked into the light at first, but Lockhart could make out the outline of the others fairly well.  They were clearly not soldiers.

            “You might as well all step into the light.” Katie, who was a Marine, faced the men and spoke before the men could speak.  The men were too busy trying to look intimidating.  “We were beginning to think you would not get here.”

            “Amazon,” the front man, a big, ugly bald headed man spoke up.  “Give us the girls and we will leave in peace.”

            “Why?”  Boston stood beside Katie which hid Amira and Chloe behind her.  She fingered her Beretta while Katie had her pistol still holstered.

            The man looked like he felt he should not have to explain himself.  “Because, they belong to us and to our village.”

            “All people belong to themselves,” Katie countered.  “Maybe they quit your village.”

            The man looked flummoxed.  “You can’t quit your village.”

            “Maybe they just don’t like you,” Boston suggested.

            “Maybe we will just take them,” the man countered.  “You are two.  We are ten.”

            “Do you think we are the only two here?  Count our tents.  You can count?” Katie asked.

            “Roland.”  Boston called and an arrow sped through the dark and landed perfectly between the man’s feet.  He jumped back, and several others at the edge of the firelight stepped back as well.

            “We are more than two,” Katie took a step forward.  “Chloe and Amira will stay with us.  You would be wise to leave now while you can.”

            The men thought about it, looked at each other and jumped for the girls.  One grabbed Chloe’s hand while she was getting up to escort Amira to safety.  Boston took Amira.  Katie kicked that man in the gut hard enough to bowl over the two behind him, and Chloe was free.  A second man swung a club at Katie’s face, but she ducked, pulled her knife and cut that man across his cheek.  Her bullet discouraged another as she grabbed for Chloe and the guns started to go off around her.

            Chloe just stood there and watched, mesmerized.  As a man tried to grab her, she kicked as Katie had.  That man also flew back to knock over several others.  Then Katie caught Chloe and they were swallowed up by the dark.  A few men fell to the gunfire, but most of them turned and ran when they saw the blood pouring from their comrades and neighbors.

            “I thought you said they were afraid of the women?”  Boston was not exactly yelling at Roland, but she was certainly expressing her fear.

            “It was a calculated risk,” Lockhart said as he stepped into the light to check on the fallen men.  “Double watch tonight.  Roland and Boston first.  I’ll wait while Roland sweeps the area.  I want to be sure they are gone.  Katie and I will take the dark of the night.  Lincoln, do you mind watching with Elder Stow?”

            Lincoln glanced at the Gott-Druk.  “That would be fine,” he said.  He was not getting adjusted to working with the Neanderthal, he confessed privately.  He would just rather see it coming when the Gott-Druk turned on them.

            “And I should watch?”  Elder Stow sounded surprised.

            “Of course,” Lockhart said.  “It is your life too, if they come back.”

            “Thank you,” Elder Stow said, and no one wanted to ask why he should be grateful.

            Meanwhile, there were three dead men around the fire and two wounded. One man caught a bullet in the shoulder, but it went clean through.  They patched him.  They also bandaged the one who had a bullet crease his thigh.  They could walk, well one limped with help.  Lockhart only told them one thing.

            “Don’t come back.”

            When Roland returned and reported that the rest of the men were still running, He, Lockhart and Lincoln dragged the dead a good distance from the camp where they might be found by the fleeing men.  If those men came back, the sight of their dead might deter them.  Then again, it was only right they should be able to bury their own dead.

            All this time, Chloe hung on Katie’s elbow.  “Would you teach me to fight?  That is a magic knife.  What kind of weapons were those you were using.”  Katie expected the words awesome and wicked to escape the girl’s mouth any minute.  Finally, she sat the girl down beside Boston who cried because of the dead.  Then she spoke.

            “Every human life is precious.  Where would you be if your parents decided to kill Amira when she was born simply because she was born blind?  We protected you because your lives are precious.  So far, that has cost three lives and wounded two others.  Are you worth that?  Are your two lives worth the lives of three others?  Think about that.”  She went to finish setting up Decker’s tent which they decided would do for the girls in the night.  Chloe did think about it, and listened when Elder Stow spoke to Boston.

            “Did you cry like that when you killed my children?”

            “Actually, yes, a little.” Boston answered.  It was impossible to tell what the Gott-Druk thought about that answer, but then Roland, Lockhart and Lincoln came back, and Amira, who had been exceptionally quiet all that time spoke up.

            “I shall sleep very well tonight,” she said.  “And thank you very much for saving us.”

            “Yes, thanks.” Chloe echoed.  She was still thinking about her price.  The village men might have sold her for a cow.  Now three of them were dead instead.

###

Avalon 2.4:  The Other Side of the Coin … Next Time

.

Avalon 2.4: Amazon

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

 

After 3735 BC near the Black Sea.  Kairos: Zoe, the Amazon Queen

 

Recording… 

            “Chloe, over here.  This way is safe.”  The nine-year-old tugged on her twelve-year-old sister’s hand.

            “Amira, hush.  They will hear you,” Chloe said, but she followed in Amira’s intended direction though Amira was blind.

            “Chloe, what do you see?”

            “Nothing.  It is only dark night.”

            “Not see with your eyes, silly.  I mean what do you feel?”

            Chloe wrinkled her nose at her sister.  Amira asked questions like that knowing full well that Chloe had no such gift.  Only Amira could see things in the dark as easily as the light.  Only Amira had the eyes to see inside people to know their true heart, though she had no eyes to see at all.  Only Amira felt things like that, sometimes even glimpses of the future.  Chloe was just an ordinary girl with ordinary eyes, but Amira asked anyway.

            “I feel fear,” Chloe said.  “We lost the men in the dark, but they have not given up.  We must not stop.  We have to keep moving.”

            “Not behind, silly.  What do you feel ahead of us?”

            Chloe looked back before she made an effort to look ahead.  She saw or felt nothing in particular but more forest and treacherous little ridges like the one they were on.  They were ridges that would surely injure them in the dark if Chloe was not careful.

            “I’m sorry.  I see only dark, now can we move?”

            “Oh, Chloe.  You hardly try,” Amira scolded her big sister.  “I feel a warm fire and good people who will help us against the dark and the bad men.  I can smell the deer cooking and a treat of grain, elf grown grain made delicious.”

            “By magic, I am sure.”  Chloe looked back once more and strained her ears.

            “They are true people of power.  We must go to them.  They will protect us,” Amira said, and Chloe caught her blind sister before she stepped off the ridge and tumbled and fell twenty feet to the forest floor.  There was an easier way down if Chloe was careful.

            It was not long before Chloe caught a glimpse of the camp fire through the trees, and not much longer before she smelled the roasting meat.  Her stomach grumbled, but it only made Amira laugh.  “But can we trust these people?”  Chloe had to ask.

            “We must,” Amira answered with a knowing smile, and in the end she was the one who dragged her sister into the camp without so much as a “Hello, may we join you?”

            The travelers were surprised, but hardly knew what to do as the two young women walked right into their midst.  The young one had her older sister by the hand and pulled her right up to Katie Harper where she made the introductions.

            “Chloe, this is the second elected one in all the world, and now you are the third.  You must listen to what she says in the short time you have.  Listen to her and her man, for they are wise beyond our years.  Sit.” And the younger one made a reluctant Chloe sit beside Katie.  “My name is Amira, and we are very hungry.”

            Roland, Lincoln and Elder Stow all leapt for the deer to cut pieces to share.  Boston went for the girl and found a place for her to sit.  As she did, she looked close, waved her hand to be sure and then turned to Lockhart with a surprising pronouncement.  “She is blind.”

            “She has always been blind,” Chloe said quickly.  “But she sees better and more than most.”

            “My name is Katie and this is Robert,” Katie said.

            “Lockhart,” he said of himself.

            Chloe nodded, but looked suddenly shy and was glad when Lincoln handed her a piece of meat and some bread.  Chloe touched the bread.  She sniffed it.  “Grain of the elves,” she named it.

            “Yes,” Katie responded.  “How did you know?”

            “Amira told me before we even found your fire.”  She looked at her sister and ate hungrily.  Amira was right about that, too.  They were starving.

            Amira also ate, but more slowly.  It was like she was too busy sensing other things to eat too quickly.  She spoke between bites.  “Elder and elf, please do not frighten my sister.”  She shook her finger at the two before she took another bite, but that only brought something else to mind.

            “Elder Stow and Roland,” Boston managed to say.  “I am Boston and the other man is Lincoln.”

            “Lincoln!” Amira spoke too loud before she turned again toward the elf.  “No, Roland, your sister is remembering, I think.  She disguised herself like an elf the way you disguised yourself like a person.  No one will bother her or her father.”

            “Are they near?”  Lincoln jumped into the conversation.

            “I do not know,” Amira said as she thought about it.  “I cannot judge near and far well at all.  Everything I see seems near to me.”

            Boston turned to face the girl.  “You are what, eleven?  Twelve?”

            “I’m twelve,” Chloe said.  She was beginning to fill up and so inclined to relax a little.  “Amira is only nine.”

            “I bet I can guess how old you are,” Amira said.

            “Don’t bet,” Chloe said.  “Amira only says that when she already knows the answer.”

            Amira stuck out her tongue  in her sister’s direction and lifted her hand to touch Boston on the face.  She touched.  Looked worried.  Touched again.  “Stop it,” she yelled.  “Your age won’t keep still.  I don’t understand.”  The poor girl got upset.

            “That is because I was twenty-five, and then about twenty two or so and then I got very old just recently, only now I get to be young again.  I don’t even know how old I am.”

            “Nineteen?” Lincoln guessed.

            “I would guess closer to eighteen,” Roland countered.  Boston just shrugged.

            “Oh, I see,” Amira started to say something, but then all she could do was say, “I see, oh I see.”  She got really upset and Chloe stood, but Boston hugged the girl and said it would be alright and hush, so Chloe sat down again.  “Angel,” Amira said and cried.  Boston handled it well, almost as well as Alexis might have handled it.

            “So what did she mean, elected?”  Katie asked.

            Chloe shrugged and did not give her full attention until she knew Amira was going to be alright.

            “Better question,” Lockhart interrupted.  “Why were you two girls out in the woods at night alone?”

            “We were running away,” Chloe spoke with some surprise.  “I thought you would know.”

            Katie and Lockhart shook their heads and the others perked up their ears. 

            “Yes.  Mother was killed and the bad men want to sell us, except Amira they might keep or just kill because of her eyes, you know.”

            No one needed to hear anymore.  Lockhart got his shotgun, Katie her rifle.  Lincoln had Decker’s rifle near and checked his pistol.  Boston had her hands full, but Roland eyed his stock of arrows before he checked his blades.  Elder Stow pulled out his sonic device and shrugged.  It was not much on flesh, but it might do in a pinch.

 ###

Avalon 2.4:  One Side of the Coin … Next Time

 

Storyteller About: A New Beginning.

M G Kizzia 2 Comments

            I tasted death.  A series of mini-strokes on December 30, 2012, four days in the hospital, buckets of cost later and I am not the same.  We only have so much time, and I have so much to do.

            I was born a storyteller.  By the time I was six and beginning to read and write, my imagination overflowed with other worlds and other times.  I discovered the greatest story ever told and it captured my heart.  Story became my way of expressing myself and to both explore and understand the world.  If I had been born in a tribal society I would have had an honored seat at the campfire, but by 1960 my world had already lost the time, patience and interest in tales of the imagination.  Movies were spewing out stories with an overabundance of romance or for the special effects and a chance to blow things up.  Nothing was to be gained by those.

            By the time I reached sixth grade, I was scribbling ideas, notes and drawings, tales of the imagination, and found I was drawn to adventures such as boys used to love.  Verne, Wells, Haggard, Stevenson, yes Dickens and Twain.  Of course I loved Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, Charles Williams and really all of the Inklings.  I searched the deep past and found Homer, Virgil, Beowulf, Bunyan and Swift and discovered that Oz, Never Land, Wonderland and The Back of the North Wind were never far away.  I found the writers of the Golden age of Science Fiction, E. E. Doc Smith and the rest, and writers of my own early age from Addams to Zelazny – too many to count.  These sustained me in the wilderness, and the wilderness is where I went after high school.

            I had boxes, files and an entire desk full of ideas, with some stories, some book beginnings and a play or two.  I was the boy, ready to start my adventure.  If just one person believed in me and my stories, the whole universe might have turned in a different direction.  But no.  The enormous pressure to do college, to find work, to have a family and then die was upon me, and I did not have the backbone to follow my heart.  I spent most of the last 40 years in some position or other where I could tell stories and express my tales of truth and glory, but my time belonged to others, to the grind that ate life and to the silent tears that cried out, “This is not what I am supposed to be doing with my life.”  If I say I wasted the last 40 years in the wilderness I would not be lying.

            Then I tasted death.  I am near 60 and on more medication than I can name, but the stories have not gone away.  They have strengthened to where now I no longer have the will to escape the words.  I have no doubt I will write furiously until I die and still not get all of the stories written.

            Somewhere in my wilderness years publishers invented a new category of fiction: (middle-grade)/Young Adult.  But this fine idea has been taken over presently by sparkly romances and the Princess collection because young women read.  The heroine saves the city, the world, the universe in a thin plot whose main purpose is to bring two people together so they can fall in love.  I am sure there are plenty of young women who enjoy reading what Paganini would call variations on a theme. 

            At the same time, I have heard over and over that young men don’t read.  The back of my mind screams Potter, Unfortunate Events, Olympians, but the front of my mind says it is not worth arguing with agents and publishers that there is still a market for the likes of Robert Heinlein, James Blish or John Brunner.  I don’t have ten years to devote to such arguments and nonsense.  What?  So I can see something in print when I am 70?

            Instead, we have all gone digital.  So will I.  I can start putting stories up for E-readers and POD books and maybe audio books fairly quickly.  My sons are talking about the possibility of reworking the Avalon series into comic book form.  We will build a website, do some book promotions on film for YouTube, and probably participate in giveaways through Amazon Select.  Of course, if you actually buy the works I will be grateful.  My life has not exactly been one to include much money or much success.  Perhaps because my heart was not in it.  But let me be clear: my job is not to get lost in social media and dubious promotions.  My job to get as many of these stories finished as possible before I die. 

            I will do my best to keep you up-to-date as time slides by. 

            Meanwhile, on this blog I am going to start posting Avalon, season 2 as a Monday, Wednesday, Friday post.  God willing I won’t suffer a relapse or be that one-in-three who suffers a massive stroke and becomes completely incapacitated.  If you are so inclined, pray for me.  I am finally doing what I am supposed to be doing with my life.  Let us hope there are still enough years to do it.

— Michael