Medieval 5: K and Y 13 Delayed and Interrupted, part 2 of 2

July 1, 2024June 2, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Against Kirstie’s better judgement, Jarl pulled his ship right up to the small docks on the river’s edge. Kirstie did not say anything, though. Jarl was captain of his own ship. The coast looked ragged and washed out from the storm tide so maybe that small backwater bay they stopped in with Rune got washed out. The village appeared to have caught some of it, but the river pushed back against the worst of it. When they docked, Kirstie caught sight of the soldiers by the village warehouse. Three men sat quietly on horseback in that place. It was not hard to pick out the man in charge. Two dozen roughly armed villagers also crowded into the area, so Kirstie had an idea.

Kirstie and Yrsa changed their fairy weave clothes to the dresses they wore before, Kirstie’s being blue and Yrsa’s being hunter green. Jarl, Leif, and most of the men were up to the rail, sizing up their opponents. Jarl hardly blinked to see Kirstie in a dress. Leif drew in his breath but did not make a sound this time as Kirstie leaned forward on the railing and shouted before anyone else could say anything.

“Hello friends. It is me and my maid Yrsa again.” Yrsa translated for the Saxons while the men on horseback looked surprised to hear a woman’s voice. “I hope everything is all right after that terrible storm. Is there anything we can do to help?”

One village man stepped forward with several others, and he appeared to smile. “We lost a family to the tide, but we mostly weathered it well. How about you? Are you needing repairs again?”

“We have a broken railing and a tear in the sail. We may need a new mast. I’m not sure. That was a real scary storm. So, who is your friend? He looks like a nice man.”

“Sir Rolph of Hambourg. His father is lord of the castle, and his cousin is the bishop in Hambourg. Someone told about your last visit and his father sent him to watch the shore.”

“I am Lady Kristina of Strindlos and a faithful Christian woman. It is a pleasure to meet such a fine knight on my journey. I never would have imagined it. We are a simple merchant ship headed for the Norse Shore with skins and grain. Alas, we are not a rich people, but we would pay for any repairs if it doesn’t cost too much. Oh, and do not be fooled by the armor and weapons we carry. These are rough and hearty men to sail the sea, but there are pirates on the seas, you know.”

“And some lovely cargo to defend,” Jarl interjected.

“You are Danish?” Sir Rolph asked. He did not sound all that friendly.

“Norwegian,” Kirstie said. “From far to the north. Out of reach of our king, Harald Fairhair. Up where the bears are white, and the seals are fat.”

“And what is it you are trading for?” Sir Rolph continued.

“Silver, gold, and jewels are always nice. I won’t lie to you. But honestly, we are mostly looking for good plows and farm implements, quality textiles, glassware, and maybe some wine. We want things that will be useful for my people. Most of my people are simple farmers and fishermen, the same as most of yours, I would guess.”

She watched as Sir Rolph’s face softened a bit and he nodded before he asked another question. “Slaves?”

“No.” Kirstie said quickly. “We have some thralls, but ours is a hard land and the winters are long. Help in the fields and with the fishing nets is nice, but slaves need to be housed, clothed, and fed all year long and most families cannot afford that.” It was true enough.

Sir Rolph nodded, like he was satisfied.

Sir Rolph leaned over and talked to the villagers, and Yrsa, with her good elf ears, heard and reported. “He said we could come ashore if we behaved.”

“May we come ashore?” Kirstie asked in her sweetest voice, using the man’s own words.

“Come on. You are welcome to visit.”

Jarl immediately turned to the men. “If you go ashore, leave your weapons on the ship. No weapons. They won’t trust you, and some may try to provoke you, but you just smile and be nice. We don’t want to be the ones to provoke anything. Hopefully, we can repair and move on without trouble. No stealing. And no getting drunk. It will only be for a couple of days so any man who gets drunk or causes trouble will be dumped on the Frisian shore where you probably won’t live long. And any man who causes so much trouble that they arrest you, we will sail off and let you get hung, so be nice and friendly and we will be on our way.” He turned a sly eye to Kirstie.

Kirstie gave it her best, goofy grin. “We go with our strengths,” she said, put her pointed finger to her chin, and curtseyed, humbly to her captain. Jarl laughed before he gave her instructions.

“You just keep this Sir Rolph and the village council entertained until we are ready to sail. That is all.”

Kirstie nodded and lowered the front of her dress a smidgen to show her young breasts just a smidgen more. Yrsa was not doing that.

When two days passed, and the ship was fully repaired, Kirstie came up the plank and stopped. “Permission to come aboard, Captain,” she said and curtseyed low, looking down, her face full of humility. The men all looked and liked what they saw. Jarl played along.

“Permission granted.”

Kirstie smiled and immediately called out, so her armor replaced her dress and her weapons arrived with the armor. She looked ready for battle. She reached down to the deck, picked up some dirt on her fingers and smudged her face. “Ah, that’s better,” she said and went to her bench, storing her weapons beneath, so she could sit comfortably at her oar. A few men and Jarl laughed, but most just looked disappointed.

When they rowed out into the bay far enough to set the sail, Jarl and Leif came to Kirstie with a question, but Kirstie spoke first. “So, we got the railing fixed, a few new benches and a new steering board along with a new mast, and all for the price of a reasonable bundle of furs.”

“And you got a keg of wine, besides,” Yrsa added.

“Yes,” Leif said. “Some of us were wondering how you entertained Sir Rolph so well for those days.”

“Captain Dombert asked me to marry him,” Kirstie said with a big grin. “Yrsa had to tell three men that she was already married.”

“Only two,” Yrsa objected. “The third one got told by one of his friends.”

Kirstie sounded serious. “Look, we got a room at the inn and they left us alone, mostly. We ate in the hall with the knight, his officers, and the council. There were wives there. We had pleasant conversation.”

Yrsa put on a sweet voice. “Oh, the weather is so lovely since the storm. Everything is so fresh and clean. Why I just love roses. My, what pretty flowers.” She batted her eyes and looked at Kirstie.

Kirstie nodded and said, “It was torture. You better appreciate it and understand that probably won’t work again. Yrsa and I already had contact with those villagers and kept our word to them, so they sort of knew us. To be honest, I shared the smallest piece of amber I could find with Sir Rolph on the second day. I got the keg of wine in return, so you can claim it for the ship if you want.”

“Best keep it closed up for now. We don’t need some drunk falling overboard. I imagine the dolphins are well away by now.”

Kirstie nodded. “But I have a question in return. Captain Stenson kept reminding me that he was the captain of his ship and could negotiate things just fine for himself, but you took one look at me and went right along with everything I said. Why was that?”

Leif the skipari interrupted. “We did not have to fight. No one got hurt except Sten got a splinter. We got everything we wanted, and it only cost a small bundle of furs. They even filled our water barrel and gave us some smoked meat for the journey. Plus, we now have a future trading port on the Elbe. Who can complain about that?” Leif could not imagine anyone having anything bad to say about what happened.

Jarl looked more thoughtful. “We go with our strengths. I understand that very well. I have no problem with that.”

Kirstie understood while Jarl and Leif returned to the rear and the steering board to make sure the ship was headed in the right direction. When they were gone, Old Man Skarde turned to the women and whispered. He had traded so he could sit in front of Yrsa and keep an eye on protecting the women if needed.

“You know,” he said. “Seeing you two dressed properly is the only problem. The crew was wary about you. Some of them were scared of you if you know what I mean. Your return from the sea and talk of the god of the sea like he was your friend put the fear of the gods in many of them. But now, seeing you dressed like the attractive women you are may be giving some crew members some second thoughts.

“You think we are attractive?” Yrsa asked.

Old Man Skarde frowned before he let out a small laugh.

“Well,” Kirstie said flatly. “As long as they don’t act on their thoughts. I would hate to have to kill them.”

Old Man Skarde paused and stared for a moment before he let out a genuine laugh and turned back around.

Medieval 5: K and Y 13 Delayed and Interrupted, part 1 of 2

June 26, 2024June 2, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Before the dawn, Kirstie and Yrsa found Inga and Hilda with baby Erik on the dock. There also appeared to be a dozen men standing around, waiting. Inga explained, but she used her matter-of-fact voice and did not seem the least worried about the situation.

“The ship appears filled with water sprites and they are threatening to drown anyone who dares to come aboard.”

Kirstie paused and hugged Hilda. “I’m so sorry,” she said for the hundredth time, and Hilda began to cry again, though it was a soft cry. “I’ll just see if Yrsa and I can do anything about this situation. I’ll be right back.” Hilda nodded. “Come on,” she grabbed Inga’s hand.

They walked up the plank to the deck of the ship, and the water appeared to pull back from their face to leave about two feet of free space around the girls. “Vingevourt,” Kirstie called, and the sprite extracted himself from that mass of water.

“Lady,” he said and bowed this time.

“Vingevourt. This is my good friend and self-designated mother figure, Inga. And this is my good friend and self-designated she-bear protector, Yrsa. This is Vingevourt, Lord of the North Sea, in case you should meet again.”

“My pleasure,” Vingevourt bowed again.

“Now,” Kirstie said. “Thank you for protecting our treasure, but we need to board now and prepare to sail on the tide.” She looked around the ship filled with water that slowly leaked back into the fjord. “I hope you didn’t get everything soaking wet. That would make for very uncomfortable sailing, not to mention rot the wood.”

“Don’t worry, lady,” Vingevourt responded in his precious baby voice. “We were careful to keep away from all the wood and from your things. When the men come aboard, everything should be dry and ready to go.”

Kirstie smiled because most of her little ones were much smarter and more thoughtful than most people realized. “Thank you. Bless you,”

“Thank you too. Glad we could help,” Vingevourt said, and he blended into the last of the water that fell over the side. Yrsa already stood at the gangplank.

“It’s okay. The water is gone. We can board now, safely,” she hollered. Some of the men grumbled when they came aboard but finding everything dry instead of soaking wet satisfied most of their complaints.

Kirstie went back to the dock to hug her friend again, and Hilda spoke though her tears. “But Kirstie, what am I going to do? Troels is the only man who really cared for me. When I got pregnant, he married me right away so no one would know.” Kirstie paused to let Hilda cry on her shoulder. She knew many men were not as good about getting a young girl pregnant. Some outright denied that they had any responsibility. Troels did seem to care about Hilda, but he was gone now.

“I heard Thoren say he felt sorry. He said you deserved better.”

“You and Kare,” she said.

“Not by my choice, but Thoren seems nice.”

Hilda nodded. “He is nice,” she admitted.

Inga interrupted. “Jarl and Leif are here. You better get going.”

Kirstie nodded and then caused some more grumbling from the crew, and some shuffling of seats. Kirstie sat in the front and Yrsa sat in front of her so they would not be stared at by most of the crew through much of the voyage.

~~~*~~~

Jarl opted to follow the coast all the way to the Frankish north shore. They had good weather crossing the North Sea from Norway to Denmark, so Kirstie felt optimistic about the trip, and Jarl knew his seas well enough to travel down the correct side of the Jutland Peninsula. The sky clouded over on a couple of days, but the sun stayed out most of the time. They got all the way to just shy of the Eider River before a sudden storm came up, and it was a whopper. It did not occur to Kirstie yet that maybe Abraxas was playing with the weather. This one blew up a real gale and terrifying waves.

“Must be a cyclone,” Kirstie shouted as Yrsa tied her to the railing.

“In the North Sea?” Yrsa wondered.

“Extratropical. A real Nor’easter,” Kirstie said, not that Yrsa knew what that was.

“Storm surge tides will be bad,” Leif shouted back.

“It’s bad enough here,” the man with him also shouted. Leif the skipari, and the man, Old Man Skarde, tied themselves in the very front where they could keep some sort of watch on where they were going. The sail was down, and rowing would do nothing. They were at the mercy of the sea, but it would be bad if the sea decided to push them too close to a rocky shore. Jarl and two others were tied to the steering board, not that they could turn the ship much if they did head toward the rocks.

Kirstie kept her head down to keep as warm as she could in the cold rain. She checked her weapons every few minutes to make sure they were well fastened in. After forever, just when she thought the wind was lessening, a giant wave broke the railing where she was tied. She got dragged out to sea before even Yrsa with her elf speed could grab her.

Kirstie went underwater, but she was not afraid. The rail of the ship might drag her down, but she could both breathe underwater and handle the pressure thanks to the gift of Njord. Besides, the storm did not seem so bad down below.

It took her a few seconds to untie herself, and she headed back toward the surface in just her underthings, having sent her armor back to where it came from. Only then did it occur to her that no one else got dragged overboard. Something fishy about this, she thought. No pun intended. Someone spoke to her inside her mind, and she identified the voice as Amphitrite, queen goddess of the sea. Okay. Kirstie agreed without a second thought, and she went away from there. Amphitrite came to swim in her place, dressed in her mermaid tail.

Amphitrite immediately rose up about ten feet above the waves and checked. She saw the string between the cyclone and the Saxon Shore and did not doubt who was responsible. She sent a sharp thought to Abraxas. “You mess with my winds and waves again, and I will kill you.” She shook her head. She never ever thought that way, but Abraxas had shown he would not understand anything less. “Manannan.” Amphitrite called to the sea god and waited a second before she added, “Do I have to get your mother to fetch you?”

“Majesty.” Manannan appeared standing beside her in midair, still ten feet above the waves.

Amphitrite harumphed and put her hands to her hips. “Please move the cyclone over Saxony and southern Danish lands. My water babies can feed the trees. Try and limit the storm surge. This is an artificial event created by Abraxas. And please pay attention. If he starts to play with the weather again, you have my permission to kick his butt from here to the moon.” She waved him off.

“Majesty.” He bowed again and vanished.

Amphitrite looked down. A pod of dolphins found her and presently circled beneath her feet. “Come children,” she said. “Let’s catch up to the ship.” They swam and played, regularly breaking the surface as they moved. A family of whales joined the game, though they stayed further out. As they approached the ship, Amphitrite knew she was not authorized to fix the ship, but she did check the ship. The hull was good and undamaged. The deck and seats were soaked. A few seats could probably stand to be replaced. The sail had a tear, and the mast was tilted, but the only real break was right where Kirstie had been sitting. Amphitrite understood that was not an accident.

“Too bad,” Kirstie said in Amphitrite’s mind, thinking Amphitrite could fix and strengthen the ship with a mere thought. “Maybe we can stop by that village on the Elbe, like we did with Rune. Last time we told the village men we were just making repairs and would leave them alone. They accepted that and left us alone.”

Amphitrite nodded. It is rarely wise to intervene in the normal course of events, even if the damage is caused by an unnatural event. It is not my place to fix it. I am not the fix-it genie.

Amphitrite made the final leap to the deck of the moving ship, now settled down as the storm pushed off. The men were up pointing at the whales in the distance, and the dolphins near to hand. Dolphins were a sign of good luck, even to Vikings. Yrsa, poor girl, looked terribly worried, but when Amphitrite made the jump to the ship, she traded places with Kirstie, so Kirstie landed on her feet, reclothed in her armor, right next to the girl who sighed her relief. Leif let out his obligatory little shriek and Jarl gave it his best blink. Old Man Skarde had the courage to squint at her and ask how she managed that.

Kirstie noticed her armor was perfectly dry and even repaired in one spot where she had a tear so small, no one but her would notice. She smiled for the crew and told her story, embellished enough to make Yrsa the elf embarrassed at the lies. Kirstie did not tell them about Amphitrite, or about Abraxas causing the storm. She figured the men had enough to worry about without that. She did tell them about her encounter with the sea god who promised to move the cyclone over the land and off the sea. She credited Manannan with getting the dolphins to carry her back to her ship.

“And when the lord of the dolphins threw me to the deck, I thought sure I was going to crash into the mast.” She pantomimed splatting against the mast and a few of the men laughed softly. “Captain,” she said quickly, and Leif listened as well. She told them how Captain Stenson stopped near a village on the Elbe, and how she and Yrsa talked to the village men and found them more than willing to not want any trouble.

“The village men left us alone on the promise that we make our repairs and leave, which we did.”

“Can you find this place?” Leif asked. He got out the chest and the chart to see how far away the Elbe was. While Kirstie nodded, Jarl asked a more pointed question.

“I was looking at the charts right before the big storm hit. So, how do you know the Elbe is the next big river?”

Kirstie looked the man in the eye. “I am a navigator, as was my father.”

Jarl blinked again before he nodded and turned to the charts. “I had forgotten.”

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

MONDAY

The ship needs repairs which is a bit tricky when you are a ship full of dreaded Vikings. Until next time, Happy Reading.

Medieval 5: K and Y 12 Time to Go, part 3 of 3

June 25, 2024June 2, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Jarl and Leif met them at the ship. Frode also came with a boy and holding a puppy. Kirstie wondered about that, but first she had to get her things loaded. The dwarfs kindly put the things where they belonged and then sang a bit of a tune and danced their way back to the dock.

“What was that?” Leif asked. Kirstie noticed Leif kept his distance from the dwarfs and stared at them with wide eyes.

“Nothing bad,” Booturn said. “Just a good luck song and dance so you have a successful voyage.”

Kirstie had to cover her mouth, but Alm laughed. They were singing an old dwarfish song about being freed of their burden and about needing a good, stiff drink before they went back to work.

When Leif and Jarl faced Kirstie, she had something to say. “We need to leave on the morning tide. You better not sneak away this evening with all my goods.”

Jarl and Leif looked at each other, and Jarl spoke. “You know, I really am a nice person, and mostly an honest tradesman. You have to trust me if you are going to be part of my crew.”

Kirstie nodded. “I do trust you, but there are sticky fingers around here, and my dwarf friends have to get back to Svend and Fiona. They can’t stand here on guard all night.” She put her fingers to her lips and let out a great whistle. A big wave came up to the side of the boat and broke into hundreds of water sprites that clung to the railing and splattered on the deck. They looked like gelatin forms of gingerbread men. They all looked alike to human eyes, and many sounded the same, saying the same phrase in squeaky, baby-like voices.

“Lady needs us. Lady needs us.”

Leif let out a shriek. Jarl blinked, twice. Frode just smiled, and the boy next to him said, “Wow,” sounding much like Oswald and Edwin used to sound.

“Vingevourt,” Kirstie called the head sprite who stepped forward and gave the humans a mean look. “I am asking. Would you and your wave makers please keep a watch on this ship and all the goods, like the amber and the ivory, so it is all here safe and sound when I come back before the dawn?”

“It will be our pleasure to guard all these things.” The sprite saluted and several sprites saluted with him.

“Thank you. I will sleep well tonight knowing my treasures are in good hands.” She turned and began to walk away without another look. The men followed her.

“How will they stop a determined thief? Jarl asked.

“Men drown.” That was all Kirstie planned to say.

“See you in the morning,” Leif said that much and the captain and his skipari walked off on some last-minute errand.

Kirstie turned to Frode. She petted the puppy in his arms. “He is lovely,” she said, and smiled for the boy.

“She,” the boy said.

“Our buhund had a litter of puppies. My wife thought you might like one. You could use one to help herd the sheep and keep them out of the grain fields. They are also good with cattle, and boys.” He paused to smile at the boy beside him. “This is my son, Knud. I don’t know if you have met.”

“We have,” Kirstie said and also gave the boy a smile. “Let me see,” she said and reached to take the dog.

“They are wary of strangers,” he said before he realized the puppy seemed willing. “They have lots of energy and can be well trained. Unlike some people, they seem to prefer to have something to do. They can get ill-tempered if they are bored.”

Kirstie nodded that she heard but stayed focused on the puppy in her arms. Yrsa, who walked behind holding Alm’s hand poked her head forward and noted, “He likes you,” she said, even as the puppy gave Kirstie a wet lick.

“I would not worry about the puppy getting bored,” Kirstie said. “We have two overactive boys at the house, Fiona and a giant.” Frode stopped walking, but then started right away again. “Birdie, the dwarf wife keeps the clothes patched and clean. The dwarfs mostly eat and sleep. Alm, here, keeps everything together.

Frode gave a nod behind him to what looked to him like an ordinary young man. “That must be hard.”

“It is not always easy,” Alm admitted, and Yrsa leaned over to kiss his cheek.

They walked quietly for a while, and Kirstie made soft noises to the puppy who seemed happy in her arms. She thought about a baby when she talked to Yrsa about having a Yrsa baby. She thought about it again while holding her puppy baby. She tried really hard to not think about Kare, but sadly there was not anyone else she was interested in and at least he seemed interested in her.

“Ours is not a big village,” Kirstie said. “When I was growing up, Hilda was the only girl near my age. Liv, Thorbald’s daughter came along later. Fortunately, we became friends, but honestly there was not anyone else.” She leaned over a bit to speak to Knud. “Oswald just turned eleven. Edwin will be nine soon.”

“Knud is ten,” Frode said.

Kirstie nodded and asked. “You don’t mind him being friends with thralls?”

Frode answered honestly. “I hope they may become friends. Knud spends too much time alone.”

“Not true,” the boy protested. “Brunhild plays with me, and now that she has had puppies, I have my hands full.”

“Understand,” Kirstie told Frode. “I hope they may become friends, but if he treats them like thralls, like less than human, he will be sent home and not invited back.” She did not glance at Knud, but the boy heard, and he heard his father’s response.

“I would expect no less,” Frode said. “We have done our best to raise the boy right.”

“Fair enough,” Kirstie said, and they arrived.

“Lady. Lady.” Oswald and Edwin came running to see what the wiggling thing was that she held in her arms.

Kirstie held the puppy out to the boys. “This is Flika,” she said, and then she added something the others did not understand, but she was honestly answering one of her own lifetimes. “I know it is the name for a horse, but I haven’t got a horse and I like the name.” She continued. “Flika, meet Oswald and Edwin. Oswald and Edwin, this is Flika.” The dog barked. “And this is Knud Frodesson.

Frode spoke right up to the boys. “I thought Knud and I might stick around this afternoon to help Flika get adjusted to a new home.”

“The puppy is ours?” Edwin said in his excited voice while Oswald and Knud sized each other up.

Kirstie set down the puppy who was wiggling up a storm. “Why don’t you start by showing Knud and Flika the sheep pen.”

The puppy paused and looked up at Kirstie. She said softly, “Go on,” like she was giving the dog permission. The three boys and the barking puppy ran off with Alm and Frode following.

“We need to get ready to sail in the morning,” Kirstie said to Yrsa’s nod. “I hope Alm will stay with Frode in case the dwarfs or Vortesvin shows up.

“I am sure he will,” Yrsa said, and they went to the house to put a few things in a shoulder bag.

~~~*~~~

In the dark of the night, well before the dawn, Yrsa woke Kirstie with the word, “Time to go.” Yrsa yawned. She was an elf of the light and did not normally get up in the dark time.

Kirstie sat up and petted her puppy who chose to sleep in her bed. She dressed in her armor. Her weapons attached themselves and she picked up the curious puppy. They went first to the cooking fire which had been banked for an easy restart in another hour. They found some bread and water along with some leftover roast in the oven.

“I can’t imagine the dwarfs did not eat everything available,” Kirstie said.

“Oh, Fiona stole a bit and hid it in the oven for us. She knew we would be leaving early,” Yrsa answered.

“Not like the dwarf noses could not have found it,” Kirstie countered.

“She told them to stay away from it and Birdie threatened them.”

Kirstie nodded. “A threat from a dwarf wife would do it, but I imagine Toodles is watching even now to claim what we don’t finish.” Yrsa smiled as she heard the sound of shuffling in the bushes with her good elf ears.

After a bite to eat, Kirstie picked up her puppy again and went to Fiona’s house. Vortesvin slept outside by the door. He opened one eye to see who it was, but Kirstie just told him to go back to sleep. They went in. Fiona slept in the front room, and she stirred, but did not wake. The boys slept in the same big bed in the back room. Oswald did wake. Edwin almost woke. Kirstie put the dog down between the boys with a word. “Now, go to sleep.”

The puppy panted at her. Oswald laid down and closed his eyes, a smile plastered on his face. Edwin mumbled something unintelligible and slung an arm around the puppy. Flika licked the boy’s face, and that brought out his smile while Yrsa and Kirstie backed out of the room and out of the house.

Medieval 5: K and Y 12 Time to Go, part 2 of 3

June 24, 2024June 1, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Yasmina

Yasmina mounted and wiped the tears from her own eyes as they walked their horses to the main gate. Al-Rahim led the procession through the streets with Ahmed beside him. Yasmina and Aisha rode side by side, and the two from the harem guards followed. After that, some thirty regular guards from the palace came two by two. That was most unusual. Normally, regular guards were not allowed anywhere near the women. In this case, al-Rahim left most of his contingent in the harem to do their duty.

As they moved slowly through the town, Yasmina saw fear on many faces. The people were not yet in a panic, but near enough. The Qarmatians laid siege to the city, and when they could not break in, their leader, Abu Tahir Sulayman al-Jannabi demanded entrance to the holy city as is the right of all pilgrims. Yasmina’s father felt he had no choice but to comply, though he had every intention of getting his daughter safely out of the city first.

Al-Rahim picked a gate where the enemy was most thinly arrayed. “Walk the horses,” he commanded. “They claim to be peaceful pilgrims. Let us give them a chance to prove it.”

The enemy stared at them in disbelief and uncertainty but made no move to stop them until the end. Someone started shouting in Persian. Aisha translated. “They are ordered to stop us.”

“Ride,” Al-Rahim shouted, and they began to gallop along the rugged path. A couple of arrows followed them, but they missed or fell short. When they got to the top of a rise, Al-Rahim stopped and turned to look back. It did not take long for the Qarmatians to get their own horses and follow. “Ahmed,” al-Rahim said and pointed. Ahmed nodded and began to shout orders. Al-Rahim started down the other side of the rise without another look back. Yasmina and Aisha followed with the two harem guards behind them.

Al-Rahim made them ride hard for an hour before he let them get down and walk their horses for a half-hour. Even without any sign of pursuit, they mounted and rode hard again. This became a pattern, and by the end of the day, Yasmina’s horse and her feet were worn out.

The guards set up a tent in the wilderness, out of sight from the path. Al-Rahim supplied them with cold food and said, “Bundle up. No fire tonight.” Honestly, Yasmina did not care. She found two blankets. She laid down on one, covered herself with the other, and fell asleep before Aisha could finish tying the tent flap closed.

In the morning, moving at a more even and humane pace, they joined the regular road to Medina. Yasmina tried hard to not say anything when she was told it would take them ten or twelve days to get there. At least they did not have to gallop the whole way.

Al-Rahim always managed to find them food, even when they camped in the wilderness. They passed some pilgrims over those days, though the pilgrim business had slimmed way down since the Qarmatians began attacking pilgrim trains. They also passed some merchant caravans. When they camped near a watering hole one evening, though not too near for fear of the wild animals that might come and water in the night, they got invited to supper by one of those caravans. The merchants were anxious to hear the news about the road ahead. They could not tell the merchants much, but they all enjoyed the little feast, so it was a good evening.

They stayed in a few villages along the way where there was a bed for the princess. Yasmina greatly appreciated that, especially since Aisha knew a spell that would cause all the insects to vacate the bed and stay gone for at least twelve hours. They also passed many farms, though they only stayed one night in a man’s barn. No one told the man who Yasmina was, and the guards had taken to wearing plain cloaks over their armor, so they looked like ordinary hired men, no doubt hired to safely escort the two women to Medina.

When they finally arrived in Medina, Yasmina sighed her relief. They went straight to the palace, and though they were a surprise visit, the servants in the palace made them welcome. Yasmina got her mother’s room and Aisha got the pick of several beds in the big room that were for Mother’s maids, or the little room beside Yasmina’s room where Mother’s personal assistant stayed. Aisha chose the single small room and invited two of the older ladies to move into the dormitory-like room so they would be close to hand if needed.

It was a relaxing time, and Yasmina played pilgrim, or maybe tourist and saw all the special places that connected to the Prophet in the first days of the faith. Sadly, it was hardly a week before al-Rahim came rushing in.

“Time to pack,” he said.

“What?” Yasmina wondered what was up. “We just got here.”

“The Qarmatians are a day out from the city. Two at most. They sacked Mecca, and I have no doubt they plan the same for Medina. Get packed.”

“But where will we go?” Yasmina shouted after the man, but he was already headed toward the stables.

“Come on,” Aisha said. “Just bring what you did last time and let’s get going.”

Yasmina changed into her riding clothes and then called for her armor. The virtue of that was when she called for her regular clothes, she would be clothed again in her riding clothes, just in case. Yasmina grumbled quietly as she changed. “But my feet haven’t recovered from the last time.”

“You will toughen up,” Aisha answered, of course having heard with her good elf ears. “Kirstie and Yrsa used to row with the men for hours.”

“I could do that. I got muscles,” Yasmina said. She showed her skinny little arm and Aisha chose not to respond.

Kirstie

Kirstie had to wait three weeks for the little ones in the far north to collect six walrus tusks and bring them to Strindlos. They also brought a polar bear skin, one expertly taken from a large animal that finally succumbed to age. They also reported seeing some frost giants in the area, which did not sound good.

The bear skin was a good addition because it made up for the fairies who could only offer one large pot of honey with the wax. That was very kind of them to offer any honey at all since honey was a big part of their diet. Buttercup insisted and Mariwood supported her. Lord Bjork grumbled, but Lady Bellflower was glad to do it, so the fairy king did not argue.

Lord Amber was the only one that teased Kirstie. “I heard you say this was a one-time deal.”

“Father!” Yrsa scolded her father with the word, but her father smiled.

Kirstie also smiled when she said, “So this is another-time deal.” She paused a second before she said, “I sound like a dwarf.” Alm laughed.

Lord Amber agreed. “It does sound a bit like dwarf logic,” he said, before he handed over a second basket of amber. “Good thing I saved the second basket.” So, all got settled and Kirstie got ready to go.

Kirstie felt reluctant to ask Yrsa to accompany her on this trip. She and Alm were so happy, and still like newlyweds, though Kirstie understood that newlywed phase for elves might last a hundred years. Yrsa interrupted Kirstie’s thoughts when she asked, “So when are we leaving?”

“Are you sure you want to go?” Kirstie asked. “I was just thinking what a great mom you will be. Don’t you want a little Yrsa baby?”

Yrsa looked at Alm and he smiled, but then she turned right back to Kirstie and spoke plainly. “We talked about it. A baby would be wonderful, but right now you are still my baby. I need to come, and help you in any way I can, and be the wild she-bear you once called me, to watch over you. I know it will be dangerous, but I have my bow and I think I’m getting pretty good at it. So, when are we leaving?”

Kirstie rolled her eyes at the thought that Yrsa was only getting pretty good with her bow. Yrsa could fire three arrows in the time it took her to fire one, and she could hit the bullseye with all three. But Alm spoke next.

“We talked about it,” he repeated Yrsa’s words. “But right now, I have two boys like sons, Oswald and Edwin. They need to be watched and taught many things before they will be ready to take over running the farm. Besides, I have a handful of dwarfs to mess things up, and a mostly troll to keep fed. The glamour we managed around Vortesvin helps, but he still looks like a giant. Not anything we can do about that.”

Kirstie nodded. “We go the day after tomorrow. Right now, we need to get Booturn, Bucket, Toodles, Buckles, and Tiny to help carry the things to the ship.”

“Vortesvin might help,” Yrsa suggested, but Kirstie shook her head.

“The whole village knows I have a giant helping on the farm. Some have seen him rip boulders and whole tree stumps right out of the ground. It is one thing to know there is a friendly giant in the distance, but it would be quite another to have him parading through the streets. Alm, I leave it to your judgment, but I think it might be best for him to avoid direct contact with the humans of Strindlos. The dwarfs at the blacksmith’s shop are bad enough.”

“Understood,” Alm did not disagree. “Besides, he is completely enchanted by Fiona. He hardly wants to let her out of his sight.”

Kirstie threw her hands up. “I don’t want to hear about it,” she said.

Medieval 5: K and Y 12 Time to Go, part 1 of 3

June 19, 2024June 1, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

“Rune. Captain Stenson, Sir, it is time to go back to sea.”

Captain Stenson shook his head. “I’m still spending what we got on the last trip. I’m not like Harrold. The sea has no hold on me. It is a tool, to make money and trade for the things we need. My ship is in drydock right now. Maybe in another year.”

“But I have to get to Normandy today, yesterday.”

“I have heard you say Normandy before. Where is that?”

“The north coast of France, east and west from the mouth of the Seine River. It is a place where many from Norway and Danish lands are going to settle. I suppose it is not called Normandy yet, but it will be soon enough because it is where all the Northmen live.”

“Ah, yes. I think I know what you are talking about. What is so vital about that place?”

“There is a hag there that needs to be overcome.”

“Like the one at the king’s house?” Captain Stenson pulled back from that idea.

“Like the one in Bremerhaven,” she said before she remembered. “Oh, that’s right. You and Frode were off talking to the guild masters while the rest of us were fighting for our lives.”

“Yes, well. I can’t help you. Frode and the crew are not ready for the next adventure. Captain Jarl is in town, you know. He has been home for nearly six months. He might be ready to try his luck in Normandy. Why don’t you ask him?”

She did.

“I’m thinking about it,” Jarl said. “But I don’t know about the Norman shore, as some call it. There is still too much fighting going on there. Rollo the Dane and the King of France are not getting along well.”

“We would not have to go near any of the fighting.”

“No way to guarantee that. Besides, there will be fighting if you are going after another hag. I saw what the last hag did to Chief Birger. I would not wish that on any member of my crew.”

Kirstie let out a wry smile. “I am sure you don’t want me to go to Oglo to buy a ride to the Norman shore. When they ask why the men of Strindlos refused to take me I will have to say because they were all afraid. Not to suggest that you are all cowards. I would never say such a thing.”

Jarl frowned. He thought to change his direction of attack. “But look at you. You are what, seventeen? Eighteen and unmarried?”

“I’m sixteen,” Kirstie said. She was just tall for a girl.

“And very pretty. Very well developed to be a wife to some man. It is a long time at sea, and some men can only go so long without getting ideas.”

Kirstie called to her armor which covered her with weapons of all sorts. Jarl blinked. “They can think all they want, but you should know, if they try something, I may have to kill them.”

“And your friend, Yrsa.” Jarl did not quit. “She would just compound the problem.”

“Yrsa can take care of herself, and better than you can imagine. She is an elf of the woods, and I am only telling you that because you are the captain of my ship and I do not wish to keep secrets from you. Besides, Yrsa can speak whatever the local tongue is and get better results than you and some town elder yelling at each other.”

Jarl rubbed his chin. “There might be some benefit in that.” But then he shook his head. “It takes time to get enough furs and hides to make a trip worthwhile, and I have been to Brittany and once to Iberia, but I have avoided the Norman shore and have no experience in France, well, Flanders, but that really doesn’t count.”

Kirstie decided she would have to play her hole card. “How about if I buy my way aboard your ship. Same as Rune. Fairy picked honey and wax, ivory tusks, and amber. These things can make you some real silver.”

“Are you bargaining?”

“If I must. I prefer to think of it as purchasing a ride there and back again. That must include Yrsa if she chooses to come.”

“The elf?”

“To make sure the goods don’t get stolen.”

“I think we can do that, but we can’t leave instantly.”

“No, we can’t,” she reluctantly agreed. “I’ll need a few weeks to gather my goods.”

“Leif,” Jarl called. Leif, Jarl’s navigator and skipari came from the back room where he had been listening in. “I think we have a deal.” Leif just grinned.

“Sneaky,” Kirstie said. “But probably safe. I just dropped a couple of dwarfs off at Svend’s shop. They are already talking about tearing down the furnace and building a new one.” She walked to the door. “I’ll tell you when I’m ready.” She called to her dress which instantly replaced her armor. Jarl blinked again, and Leif stopped grinning.

“We will be ready when you are,” Jarl managed to say.

On her way home, she imagined Jarl bargained like a nobleman. He told her every reason why she could not come and would have kept it up until she came up with the trade goods. He already planned on taking her, he just wanted to make sure he got his hands on some amber and ivory first.

He should be the earl—the Jarl of Trondelag. Then we could call him Jarl Jarl, she thought. Maybe Jarl Jarl Binks.

Yasmina

Aisha came bounding into the room with a small bundle of things to take. “I’ve hugged my mother and father and said good-bye to everyone. Are you ready?” She asked because Yasmina already had three bundles on her bed, and they were not so little.

Yasmina continued to rifle through her trunks, drawers, and closet, fingering everything and thinking about it. She felt like she might need everything. She wanted to take it all with her.

“Get your riding clothes on,” Aisha said. Yasmina grumbled but complied while Aisha went through her bundles. Yasmina protested at everything Aisha removed. “I need that,” she said several times.

Someone knocked loudly on the door. “I’m not ready,” Yasmina yelled in an automatic response she gave since she was six.

“Come in,” Aisha yelled to the door.

Ahmed came in. Two soldiers waited in the hall. “Princess,” Ahmed spoke. “Al-Rahim has requested that you wear your armor. There is no way of knowing in advance what kind of response we may get from the Qarmatians outside the gate.”

Yasmina huffed and called for her armor. It replaced her riding clothes and came as previously adjusted with the lengthened skirt and the long sleeves. It also came with the Cloak of Athena that al-Rahim insisted be called the Cloak of the Owl. The hood of the cloak remained up and she remained veiled which was vital for going out in public. Aisha made Yasmina carry two of her own bundles, and they went to the stables.

Yasmina’s new and younger horse was already saddled and ready to go. Aisha stuffed Yasmina’ bundles and her own bundle in the bags that hung from the back of the old Roman-like saddle. Then Yasmina’s mother showed up crying for one last round of hugs and tearful good-byes. When she would not stop hugging her daughter, al-Rahim coughed and spoke.

“We must go before the Qarmatians begin to enter the city.”

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

MONDAY

Kirstie and Yasmina both need to get going, but sometimes it takes time and effort just to get ready. Then there are delays and interruptions that cannot be foreseen. Until Monday, Happy Reading.

Medieval 5: K and Y 11 Troubles Come in Threes, part 2 of 2

June 18, 2024June 1, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Kirstie got up one morning and felt anxious all over. She felt afraid she might get some bad news, but she could not think of what it might be. Hilda recovered well. The Witcher Women were happy. None of the elderly in the village were near dying. The world, or at least her part of it was at peace. The farm was in good hands. The sun was shining. Still, Kirstie felt anxious. Something or someone reminded her that trouble came in threes.

Kirstie countered that thought. “Kare is annoying and obnoxious, but he is no trouble. And everything worked out fine for Hilda.” Someone internally said third time is the charm, a word that someone else immediately contradicted with three strikes and you’re out. Kirstie did not have to wait long. She sensed the oncoming dwarfs before they arrived.

Kirstie went outside and glanced at Fiona who was in the cooking area, talking to Yrsa. Yrsa looked up, but Kirstie waved her hand in a way to say stay there and maybe keep Fiona busy. The dwarfs came through the woods and in his way, the dwarf chief Booturn started right up.

“So, we got the word through the trade lanes,” Booturn said before he even stopped moving. “There is a hag in the place they are calling Normandy because so many Northmen have settled there. Some have gone there from Danelaw and Northumbria since the Anglo-Saxons keep pressuring the Danes. Abraxas must have sent the hag with one of those Danelaw groups. The hag is in a village on the sea called Fiscannum. We don’t know if she has already invited Abraxas to come to the continent or not, but it won’t be long before that happens.”

“Damn,” Kirstie said before she jumped. She was so anxious to hear the news, she did not pay close attention to who Booturn brought with him. Her eyes shot to the cooking area. Most of the dwarfs naturally went there first, being attracted to the food. She saw Vortesvin, the big ugly mountain troll there, but saw Fiona talking to the beast with a smile on her face. That was not what she expected. In fact, Fiona talked to the troll and ignored the dwarfs except to make sure they did not snitch any of the roast she was cooking.

“I belong to the Lady Kirstie,” she said.

“So do I,” Vortesvin answered and appeared to smile for her. Wonder of wonders, Fiona did not appear repulsed by the smile.

“I would not say you are one of her little ones,” Fiona said. “More like a big one if you ask me.” she reached out with her good hand and touched the monster on his upper arm which was about the size of her younger son.

“Yes, mum,” Vortesvin agreed. “But you are missing part of your arm, I see.”

“Yes, I am, and my name is Fiona.” Fiona said.

“I’m Vortesvin,” the troll said and reached out to gently touch Fiona’s arm.

Fiona kept her elbow covered so as not to offend. She watched the troll touch the spot and explained. “It got taken by an axe, and a man burned it in the fire until it stopped bleeding. It hurt something awful.”

“May I see it?” Vortesvin asked kindly.

Fiona nodded and unwrapped the cloth she kept tied around it and warned the troll. “It is terribly ugly to look at. About like you.” Fiona smiled. Kirstie saw it once, and that was enough. She nearly threw up.

“Lor, but that looks mean. It must have hurt badly.”

Fiona nodded, and Kirstie turned her eyes back to Booturn since she did not need to intervene around the cooking fire. “Normandy,” she said, and Booturn nodded. “Good thing you are here. The elves and fairies in the woods have been a great help around here, and I am sure you don’t want them to get all the credit and say they are better than the dwarfs.”

Booturn frowned. “What do you want?”

“Two things,” Kirstie said. “First, I want you to make a cup to fit on the end of Fiona’s arm. It should cover the ugly area but be made so she can take it off or put it on as she will.”

“A cup?”

“Like the cup that was made for Father Tyr of the one hand after the wolf Fenrus bit off his hand, but it doesn’t have to be gold or jeweled. Not lead, but Iron maybe, strong.” Kirstie said.

Booturn looked up at the mention of the god Tyr, like he forgot she was counted among the gods of old. He quickly removed his hat and listened closely. “With fingers?” he asked.

“Not long and heavy. Just a cup. But it might have a hook, or maybe two.” She showed with her two fingers. “But blunt, not sharp. Something so she can pick up a pot or hold things in place while she cuts the meat. You know.”

Booturn nodded.

“I have seen your blacksmith shop in the village,” Booturn protested “That is some poor excuse for a furnace.”

Kirstie widened her eyes. She was not aware he had been to the village until he mentioned it. But now she knew that he and several others went to see what sort of weapons the humans were preparing for the battle at the king’s house. Nothing untoward happened so Kirstie was not needed to intervene at that time, so no need for her to know about it. But still… “Maybe you need to go and help Svend build a better furnace. He is a nice man, though. I don’t want you to scare him.”

“I might look again,” Booturn said in a noncommittal way. “What is the other thing?

“I need to borrow your wife for a few seasons. Maybe a few years if she does not mind.”

Booturn slowly smiled at the prospect of being like a bachelor for a few years. Kirstie could practically see the wheels turning in that warped dwarf mind. “I should ask what for.” he said.

“She is a seamstress but works with a loom and needle without a bunch of magic. The local elf ladies have been very kind to keep me, Fiona, and the boys clothed, but I want someone who can work with plain linen and knows how to card and spin wool, now that we have some sheep, and make things, more human things.”

“Human things?” Booturn raised his voice. “She would be insulted by that… but I know what you mean.”

Kirstie thought to explain. “With just one hand, Fiona has a hard time threading the needle and working the loom. Fiona is a good cook, and she can butcher the meat and pluck a chicken just fine, though the boys help. But she needs help with some of the more two handed and delicate tasks. I was thinking Birdie could help, and maybe share a few recipes.” She named Booturn’s wife and Booturn twisted his hat a little as he again remembered that Kirstie was his goddess. He got serious.

“I can see the cup with the fingers will need to be strong and attach in a way that will keep it in place.”

“Yes, please,” Kirstie said, and looked again toward the cooking fire. She saw the troll lean down and Fiona planted a kiss on the troll’s cheek. Wonder of wonders, she swore the troll turned red with embarrassment, but Fiona moved on.

Alm and the boys came around the corner of the barn and Fiona called to him. “Alm. We need to find something to feed our visitors. They must be hungry after their long trip down the mountain.”

The boys stared without the wow, as had become their way, but Alm threw his fists to his hips and gave the dwarfs a stern look. “A troll and a pocket full of dwarfs. They could eat everything on the farm and still be hungry.” The dwarfs nodded and smiled in agreement. Alm smiled for Yrsa as she came to stand beside him. She gave him a peck on the lips. He said, “If Yrsa and the boys fetch their bows and arrows, and maybe if Bucket and Toodles came with us, we might find something in the forest that we could shoot and eat.” Clearly, Alm knew these dwarfs, or some of them anyway.

The boys shouted and raced to get their things. Yrsa already had hers handy. She kept it in her elf slip, a small, invisible pocket not entirely in this world that only she could access. All the same, she chased the boys to make sure they did not break anything in their excitement.

Kirstie imagined Yrsa would make a great mom. She felt glad that everything seemed to be working out so well. She watched as Fiona turned again to Vortesvin. “You are a troll?”

“Mostly.” Vortesvin said and looked down at the ground for fear of how she might react. “My mother was some ogre. They say I got her nose.”

Kirstie watched Fiona return to her cooking and almost smile. “I don’t mind,” Fiona said, and Kirstie thought she better not eavesdrop anymore.

“Booturn,” Kirstie said and glanced at the sky. “We need to go to the village center before it gets any later. I need to introduce you to Svend the blacksmith. Bring Buckles and Tiny. We will see if he is willing to let you help him and maybe teach him a few things about working in metals.”

It turned out Svend had been praying for just this thing. Apparently, he caught sight of the dwarfs when they checked out his shop several years earlier. His apprentice and two workers were wary and not entirely happy, but Kirstie understood that was mostly because the dwarfs were strangers and not necessarily because they were dwarfs.

Booturn explained to Svend about the cup they needed to make. Svend had met Fiona, the whole village had by then, and they found her to be a kind and good person. Svend thought a cup would be a wonderful idea.

Buckles spoke right to task. “We will need to line the cup with fairy weave, much as I hate depending on the elves for the cloth.”

“Fairy weave?” Svend asked.

“Made by the elves of the wood. It has magical properties,” Booturn told him, and Kirstie thought he deserved a better explanation.

“It does not stain, always stays fresh and clean, and it absorbs sweat and will push the moisture out, so it always stays dry. It will keep her arm warm in the winter and cool in the summer, so the cup will not be a burden.

“Not iron though,” Tiny said and pulled on his beard. “We don’t want it to rust up in a few years.”

“Need a better furnace for real steel,” Buckles agreed. “One that can get really hot.”

“Hot as hell,” Tiny agreed and Kirstie explained again, though Svend was not a Christian to exactly understand.

“That is just an expression. He isn’t literally talking about hell.” Svend imagined Hella’s place for the dead, but he accepted the expression as just that. Kirstie turned to Booturn. “I need to find a ride to Normandy. I am sure you will work things out equitably.” She turned back to Svend. “If the dwarfs give you any trouble, just let me know when I get back. And don’t let them eat all your food. They are always hungry, so if you feed them… Well, just don’t let them eat you out of house and home.” She turned back to Booturn. “Make sure you take good care of Fiona and the boys. I’ll want my farm to be there and prospering when I get back.”

“Don’t you worry,” Booturn spoke loudly, “We will take care of everything while you are gone.”

Kirstie mumbled softly as she walked away. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Medieval 5: K and Y 11 Troubles Come in Threes, part 1 of 2

June 17, 2024June 1, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Fiona, Oswald, and Edwin fit right in. Of course, the elves of the wood would continue to help out around the farm for several years, until the boys got big enough and learned enough to take over. Alm and Yrsa took the boys hunting from time to time, and they, along with Mariwood and Buttercup, became good friends with Fiona, so everything seemed well. Then the dwarfs came, and everything fell apart.

The trouble started when Harrold came home with a shipload of gold, silver, and jewels. He raided a town on the southeast coast of Wessex, or maybe in Cornwall with a friend of his from Steinker, the big town at the far north end of the fjord. The man’s name was Captain Ulf, which Kirstie immediately translated to the English Wolf. The name fit what she heard. They attacked a monastery, killed all the monks, and then attacked the town. They burned the church to the ground. They stole everything, and Kare was proud about that. Thoren, not so much.

“I almost have enough money to build my own longship,” Kare said proudly. “And I have good sailing experience now, too. One more raid like that and I should be set.”

“Most of the men at least share the bounty with their families,” Kirstie pointed out.

Kare shrugged her off. “My parents have enough. They get along just fine without needing any of my money.”

Kirstie shook her head, sadly. He did not get it, but she was thinking Kare’s mother had seven children. Kare was the eldest, and the woman was working herself to an early grave keeping the other six clothed and fed. Kare’s father was a nice enough man, but he was not much of a hunter or fisherman, either one, and his fields were not the best soil being full of rocks. “You could help out at home,” she said and watched her words go in one of Kare’s ears and out the other. He already moved on in his mind.

“I killed a man too,” he reported, like he was now even with Kirstie. He showed no remorse. To be sure, Kirstie was not entirely shocked by his attitude. For young men, given the culture they lived in, killing an enemy was almost a rite of passage. It said he was a man worthy of respect.

“I understand,” Kirstie said. “But you are not supposed to be happy about killing.”

Kare thought a second. “But how else would we get the silver and all. They were not just going to give it to us.”

“Trade works,” she said. “Trade is an option. Try trading something worth the silver.”

“Not a chance,” Kare responded, shook his head, and smiled at her. “I don’t have any amber or ivory lying around, or fairy picked honey to trade.” Obviously, Kare did his homework. Kirstie wondered which member of her crew talked, not that it was supposed to be a secret.

Kare reached out and took Kirstie by the shoulders. “I’ll share my silver with you when we get married.” He was going to kiss her, but she got her hands up and stopped him.

“I’m not old enough yet. I’m only fifteen. And it would help if you acted like love was not a foreign word to you.”

Kare let her go, but he protested. “I have wanted you since you were a child.” That was maybe as close as he ever got to expressing any sort of love.

“I am still a child as far as you are concerned.” Kirstie almost raised her voice. It was true that some married when they were as young as fifteen, but normally it was in the sixteen to eighteen range and tended toward eighteen. “You have to wait until I am of age.”

“Kirstie.” They heard a voice. Hilda was in the marketplace and waved. She looked about ready to burst.

“I have to go,” Kirstie said.

Kare looked angry, but he held it in. It was a look Kirstie would become very familiar with. He turned to his companion. “Come on, Thoren,” he said, and they stomped off. Kirstie hurried to her friend.

The second trouble, naturally, was the birth of Hilda’s baby. The baby was turned around and Mother Vrya tried everything she could think of to get the baby to turn, but to no avail. Inga and Kirstie showed up to hear the screaming. Inga could not think of what to do, but Mother Vrya did not hesitate to ask.

“Could Mother Greta do something, or maybe your Doctor Mishka?”

Kirstie raised her eyebrows but asked internally. Greta said she could not do any more than Mother Vrya already did. Doctor Mishka said she would look, but no promises. Kirstie reported what the good doctor said. “No promises,” and she went away so Doctor Mishka could come to her time and place. The doctor raised her hand and her bag appeared. She pulled out a stethoscope and began the examination. It did not take long.

“The umbilical cord is wrapped around the baby. Troels, get out, and take your friends with you.” Mishka looked around the room and got masks out of her bag. Mother Vrya and Inga both got masks. “Inga, please get the cauldron and put plain water in it. Put the baby cloths in to boil them clean. No soap. Then come right back here, I will need you to assist.” Mishka made Hilda drink some potion that would hopefully put her to sleep without killing her.

“A sleep potion?” Mother Vrya asked as Mishka exposed Hilda’s belly and puffed up the linens on both sides to catch the blood and whatever dripped. She got out a needle and checked what she had in her bag. “Here,” she handed Mother Vrya and jar. “Spread some of this ointment there.” Mother Vrya did as instructed; and a moment later reported that her fingers felt numb. Misha gave a groggy Hilda a shot and spoke again. “Your fingers should be fine in a minute. The shot is the important thing, a combined anesthetic and antibiotic. It would work better in her spine, but I don’t dare. Believe it or not, this is not the filthiest and most primitive conditions I have worked in.”

Hilda tried to speak. “Are you commenting on my housekeeping?”

“Close your eyes and sleep,” Mishka insisted.

“But it is still hurting.”

Mother Vrya went to stand close to Hilda’s head. “She is still having contractions.”

Mishka nodded and handed Mother Vrya a cloth. “Cover her eyes and hold her head still as you did before.”

“Ooh,” Hilda mouthed the word to indicate her pain was more than she made with the sound. The potion was working, but they still had to wait a minute for the anesthetic to kick in.

Inga came back in, and Mishka laid out her things on the table she dragged to the bedside. “Scalpel. Clamps. Sponge. Gauze. Thread.”

“I remember,” Inga said. They had to surgically remove some of the arrows on the battlefield. Performing an emergency C-section would be more complicated, especially with a wrapped umbilical, but they would do their best.

Mother Vrya gasped when Doctor Mishka cut into the patient’s perfectly healthy flesh. Hilda tried to say, “What is it?” but she mostly mumbled, half-asleep at least, and she could not move her hands to remove the cloth from her eyes so she could see.

Hilda eventually slept, and Doctor Mishka instructed Inga about post operative care while Mother Vrya swaddled the baby in the boiled-not-entirely-clean cloths. When Mother Vrya fetched the cloths, Troels came in all worried. They pulled up a chair for him to sit by his wife, and he mentioned, “Revna sent word that her water broke, whatever that means.”

Mishka and Inga both looked at Mother Vrya, but Mother Vrya waved off their concern. “It is her third and she goes long.” Mother Vrya took her time, and when she left, she said she would let them know if she needed their help.

“Your son,” Inga handed the baby carefully to Troels. “Do you have a name picked out?”

“Erik,” he said and smiled at the baby. “Erik Troelsson.”

“A fine name,” Mishka said.

“Harrold is going out again,” Troels said. “I am going with him in place of the crew he lost in his adventure.”

Mishka had a bad feeling about what the young man said. It turned out, he got to hold his baby before he got lost at sea. Then again, that meant Kare would be going to sea again, and inside, Kirstie felt some relief.

Kirstie turned sixteen and thought about Kare as little as possible. She did know that Revna had a girl, Astrid, and Kirstie wondered if Erik and Astrid might end up together, being birth mates and all. Some people went for that.

Medieval 5: K and Y 10 Home Again, part 3 of 3

June 12, 2024June 1, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Kirstie turned to Fiona and the boys and said, “Your home is there near the barn. The boys can roll out of bed in the morning and get straight to work. The kitchen fire is the bricked in area there, between the houses. There is a brick oven and everything. The fences they are still building.” A couple of workmen stood around by the barn. One waved. “That is where the sheep will go. The pigs are there. The cows on the other side. And there are chickens in the barn. Also, the fields are mostly over there, and by my house there is a garden. The boys are welcome to pull the weeds.”

“It all looks lovely,” Fiona said. “I’ll just get the boys settled and get right on the cooking fire. We won’t disappoint you, Lady, but if it is all the same, respectfully, I would rather you finish what you were saying before we move in.” Of course, once the conversation started, Kirstie and Inga forgot to whisper, and Fiona could not help hearing the whole thing. Kirstie did not mind. She answered Inga.

“There are some special lifetimes I mentioned in the past that I can call on to take me to the place I need to go, like Nameless, or Danna, the Celtic mother goddess. But my main job, if you will, is to keep history on track. I can’t imagine anything more dangerous to history than letting a bunch of wild sprites loose on the world. I am supposed to make things come out the way they are written, and I get reborn in the place where the trouble is most likely to change the future unless I can prevent it.”

“How do you know the way things are supposed to come out?” Fiona asked, and added, “Begging your pardon.”

“I have future lives,” Kirstie said. Fiona did not really understand, but Inga nodded. She had seen Elgar and Mother Greta with her own eyes. They came from the past, but Inga saw no reason why Kirstie could not borrow a life from the future in the same way. Then she remembered Doctor Mishka. Kirstie thought to clarify if she could. “My many lives are not entirely isolated from one another. Of course, nothing happens exactly the way it eventually gets written down, but the gist and general thrust of history is clear. And it is equally clear when something threatens that, like Abraxas and his hags attempting to gain him worshipers and followers so he can return to the continent and mess up everything. Eventually, I will have to sail off again.”

“I will still worry about you,” Inga said.

Kirstie hugged the woman but turned to Fiona. “There are elves of the light that live in the woods nearby. There are dwarfs in the mountain there.” She pointed. “But they keep mostly to themselves. And there is a whole fairy troop in a glen not far from here. One or more of them might show up at my front door at almost any time.”

“I saw a fairy once,” Fiona said. “If you have a cow that is giving, we can leave a bowl of milk out for them as an offering.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Kirstie said. “If they want some milk, they know they only need to ask, and I would be glad to give it to them.”

Fiona looked uncertain. She always tried to placate the spirits lest they do her some mischief. Inga encouraged the woman. “As my fairy friend Buttercup explained to me, Kirstie is their goddess. They would not dare do anything that might make Kirstie angry at them.”

“If you say,” Fiona curtseyed a little to Inga. She turned to Kirstie and curtsied again. “Lady.” Kirstie saw this one-handed woman, this thrall, had more grace in her moves than Kirstie managed. She vowed to practice her curtsey.

Kirstie had a thought. Right there, she called to her regular clothes and let her armor and weapons return to the place they came from. Fiona looked surprised, and her eyes got big, but she said nothing. Oswald behind her said, “Wow,” And Edwin nodded in agreement, but Kirstie needed to verbalize her thought.

“My friend Hilda is as fully human as they come, and she has no contact with the little spirits on the earth. She does not even know about them. She is married to Troels, and she is six months pregnant. She could use the help since her mother and father are not rich and very busy on their own farm. I would be happy if you stayed here and helped me manage this place. I imagine I will be sailing off on another trading expedition in the near future, and I would like someone I can trust, and boys not afraid of work, to keep this place in good order while I am gone. But I understand having little ones about can be unsettling. If you want to stay, that would be great. But if you would rather, I can arrange to set you up in town where Hilda lives, and you can work for her. I would not mind if you chose to do that.”

Fiona did not hesitate. “If it is all the same, I think working this lovely farm would be fine. The boys and I have never had a home of our own.”

Kirstie nodded, but thought the woman needed another chance to decide, so she called Buttercup. Of course, Mariwood appeared with her since they were holding hands. It took a second before Mariwood bowed to Kirstie and Buttercup curtseyed most gracefully in mid-air. It took just long enough for Oswald to say “Wow” even louder than before, and this time Edwin echoed the “Wow”.

“Lady,” Mariwood spoke for the both of them.

“Mariwood and Buttercup,” Kirstie said. “Allow me to introduce Fiona from Northumbria and her two sons Oswald and Edwin. They may be living here to help me with the farm.”

Mariwood and Buttercup turned to the woman, keeping well out of the reach of the boy’s hands, and they repeated the bow and curtsy one more time.

“A pleasure,” Mariwood said.

“Lady,” Buttercup repeated, and Fiona smiled at being referred to as a lady, but she never blinked.

“I hope I may stay,” Fiona said.

“Oh, that would be wonderful,” Buttercup said, and Kirstie took that as a good sign. Fairies were very intuitive about who to trust and who should not be trusted.

Fiona appeared to blink and said, “I saw a fairy once in my place by the manor on the river Aire not far from where it joins the Ouse. Perhaps you know him?”

“I am sorry, Ms. Fiona,” Mariwood said, thinking about it. “That is a long way from here and I cannot say to whom you may be referring.”

Buttercup also spoke. “I can think of only one man right now. Mariwood is my heart. I have a very small heart, you know.”

“What about your friend, Inga?” Kirstie said. “She has been missing you.”

Buttercup spun around to face Inga. She hovered, looked down, and turned her toe in the air like a little girl might turn her toe in the dirt. “I’m sorry.”

“It is all right, little one,” Inga said. “I am glad you are happy.”

Buttercup let out her most radiant smile. “I am happy,” she said and flew up to hug Inga, or at least she hugged Inga’s nose, one cheek, and an ear. It was as far around Inga’s face as her little arms could stretch.

“Mariwood and Buttercup.” Fiona tried the names on her tongue. “They seem very nice.”

“Most people are nice if you give them a chance,” Kirstie said, and invited Fiona and the boys to see their new home.

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

MONDAY

Kirstie remembers that trouble comes in threes. Then Kirstie and Yasmina both discover it is time to go. Until then, Happy Reading

Medieval 5: K and Y 10 Home Again, part 2 of 3

June 11, 2024June 1, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Inga and Hilda met Kirstie at the dock and Kirstie introduced her thralls and explained while Fiona collected their few things for the walk to Kirstie’s house. “They were taken in Northumbria. They were already serfs or slaves to the manor there, so being brought to Olvishaugr in the Skaun did not change their status much. Fiona lost her husband, Aidan, when the Vanlil came. She also lost her left arm from the elbow down. The man said it was a wonder she survived. The boys are Oswald, ten, and Edwin, eight. They are a bit young to do much, but they will grow. The man said he could not afford to feed them for nothing and keep them until the boys got big enough to be useful. They did not cost much. I figure the boys can learn to keep the sheep out of the grain and pull weeds from the garden, and the mother cooks so I don’t have to.”

“I hope it works,” Inga said.

“Speaking of cooking,” Hilda said with a grin and a pat on her enlarged belly. “I need to go home. I can’t walk that far anymore.” She hugged Kirstie and walked off, Inga and Kirstie staring. Kirstie said it.

“The girl waddles like a duck and she is just six months along.”

Inga chose not to comment, though she did whisper when they were on their way to Kirstie’s house. “Have you considered what to do when certain people show up on your doorstep? I mean, you get plenty of strange visitors.”

“We already talked about that. Fiona is used to having little ones around. She calls them the wee ones, or the good people. She says she even saw one once. We should be all right as long as Vortesvin the troll doesn’t show up.”

Inga rolled her eyes before she laughed. “Leave it to you to be friends with a troll.”

“A big ugly one, too. He has some ogre blood. But he is a nice fellow beneath that rock hard exterior, and he even seems to have a brain.”

“You sound like you like him,” Inga said, surprised until she put it together in her mind. “He is one of yours.”

Kirstie nodded. “All the trolls. I am responsible for all the sprites of the air, fire, water, and the earth. That includes all the elves, light and dark, and the dwarfs in between. Trolls are in there somewhere.”

“Giants?” Inga asked.

“No.” Kirstie shook her head. “In fact, even among the little ones, the little spirits of the earth, there are far more than the few I am responsible for. I have no responsibility for any lesser spirits or greater spirits, and certainly not for any flesh and blood people like giants or mermaids. I have no say over the swan people, or seal people, or any such people.

“Just the sprites,” Inga confirmed in her mind, although “sprites” was a generic enough term where it did not honestly explain who was included and who was not. “How do you know which ones are yours?”

“I know,” Kirstie said with finality. She thought for a moment while they walked and then tried to explain a bit more. “I have thought about this for a long time. I think in the beginning, the gods decided they could more or less watch over the lesser and greater spirits. Mostly those spirits did their work and there was not much interaction with the gods, or with people for that matter. Oh, the gods might call up a hurricane, or turn one away, but generally, the spirits did their jobs and that was fine.”

“Okay,” Inga said, to show she was listening even if she did not exactly understand.

Kirstie backed up the story a little bit to speak of an earlier time. “All of the universe is alive in one way or another. It is constantly changing. Gravity, electro-magnetism, time all bring changes.” Kirstie stopped and waved off the questions that might bring. “At some point, some five thousand four hundred years ago, there was a tower built to the glory of man. The Most High God scattered the people at that time and confused the languages so like today, different people speak different languages, and we cannot understand each other easily.”

Kirstie looked and Inga nodded slightly. “Well, at that time, the gods were given the job of watching over the human race, to test and try the souls of the people to see if they were fit for heaven or hell. The gods could encourage, support, strengthen or weaken, guide, defend, or withdraw their protection as they saw fit. They were not allowed to decide how things should turn out, but they laid the foundation for morality and natural law and showed that in this world there is a greater power than the human self, and that power will one day hold all people accountable for their lives so no one would have an excuse. But in their work, the gods noticed that certain little spirits worked close to the humans and risked interfering with the work and the development of humanity. They were mostly the little ones that were able to take on a form of flesh and blood, even to appear human, though they are not.”

“Like Yrsa,” Inga understood. “She looks human enough, but I have seen behind the glamour she wears and know she is not really human at all.”

Kirstie nodded this time. “The gods wanted to give the responsibility to someone to watch over them and keep them to their tasks, and most importantly, to prevent them from interfering with humanity. They were reluctant to put that much power into the hands of one of their own because for one thing, that person would have to be able to travel around the world as needed. They would have to have access to the lands of Aesgard and the lands of the Celts, the Africans, the Romans, the eastern lands… The sprites move with the winds, the seeds, and the waves, you know, and are not tied down to only here or only there.”

“But you are tied down to this place,” Inga said and held up her own hand this time to say what she thought she understood. “You have lived many lives in the past and will continue to live into the future. I get that. But in this life, and at least most of them you are just a plain, ordinary human and nothing special.”

“Thanks,” Kirstie interrupted. “I’m just an average nobody,” she said in a goofy voice.

Inga smiled, but she knew that Kirstie knew what she was saying, so Inga continued. “In any case, you are not a god like the gods. You may be immortal after a fashion, but you die time and again and are reborn somewhere else on the earth.”

“And very disturbing it is when that happens,” Kirstie said.

Inga nodded. She could imagine. “So, the gods give you the little ones they want to watch over, because you are not tied to one place on the earth, and not being an actual god, you are no threat to them.”

“Basically,” Kirstie nodded.

“But you are tied down to this place for as long as you live your life. What if there is trouble in Egypt? That is a long way from here and I doubt Rune Stenson would be willing to sail that far.”

Kirstie stopped walking. They had reached her farm, and she had servants to get settled.

Medieval 5: K and Y 10 Home Again, part 1 of 3

June 10, 2024April 9, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

As soon as they arrived at the house, Yrsa ran off to the woods, presumably to see her father. She came back a week later with an elf named Alm and declared that she was married. At the same time, Mariwood and Buttercup never seemed to be apart, and never came around when Kirstie might need them. Kirstie sighed and first thought she might like to have a boyfriend, but not Kare. Certainly not that jerk.

The elves of the wood took good care of her home while she was away. They brought in the harvest and sold most of it, using Inga as an intermediary. They kept the pigs. Her sow had a litter of six while she was away, and Kirstie swore the piglets ate everything they could reach. Kirstie looked at her pregnant friend Hilda and said Hilda was getting fat like her pig. Hilda probably put on a bit too much weight, but Hilda just smiled and chewed.

The elves of the wood also took care of her three cows. One calved shortly after she got home, and that was good. The cow provided plenty of milk which the elves turned mostly into cheese to preserve it. Kirstie had no complaints, but at the same time, she understood that it was not fair to depend on the elves of the woods. That was a great kindness to her, but that was not their job. She needed to live in her human village and work out her own place in her human world, and the elves needed to do their own work in the spiritual world.

Inga came to visit often enough, and she generally got her hair braided when she visited. “Otherwise, my hair tends to frizz and stick out in every direction it can,” she complained before she added. “Although, having it wild and frizzy works for Buttercup, if I should see the fairy again.”

Kirstie nodded to things, generally. “Mine is thick and stays straight with no curl at all.” They started toward the village. Kirstie had an errand and dressed in her armor, though the weapons were not so prevalent, and she asked, “Why is it women always want the kind of hair that they don’t have?”

“Women want everything that they don’t have,” Inga said and smiled. “So, you are a woman now?”

Kirstie nodded. “Close enough at fifteen.”

Inga smiled. “I still see you as the wild child I used to chase around the village, trying to keep you out of trouble.”

Kirstie kept on nodding. “I’m still wild. And still growing.” She wanted to complain. “I’m fifteen but already tall for a woman, taller than some men.”

“Maybe you will get as tall as Kare. Then, as you say, you can tell him to stuff it.”

Kirstie grinned before she frowned. “I had a nightmare about him. But what about you? You must be twenty-one or two. Isn’t there anyone you are interested in? You are pretty enough. I am sure any man in the village would be glad to have you to wife.”

Inga looked at Kirstie and shook her head softly. “Mother Vrya keeps me very busy. Besides, I will have to be there when Hilda has her baby.”

“I’m worried about her eating so much,” Kirstie said. “She does not have to put on so much weight. She will never get it off again.”

Inga agreed. “I have talked to her about that, but she says she is eating because she is so happy. It makes her happy.”

“There is an excuse if I ever heard one,” Kirstie responded. “Women eat because they are happy, and they eat because they are sad. I would guess the only time women will stop eating might be if they stopped feeling anything at all.”

“That will never happen,” Inga said.

“Never happen,” Kirstie agreed.

They walked toward the docks and Inga asked a question. “So, what is this journey you are taking? The spring has arrived. Shouldn’t you be worried about getting your fields planted?”

Kirstie shook her head. “My sheep are due to arrive and my friends in the woods have agreed to watch them, but that is really asking too much of them. Rune, Frode, and my friend Thorsten all said they would send men to get the fields planted, but I need to make a better arrangement. The men I hired are building a two-room servant’s home. They have expanded the pig pen to accommodate all the piglets for when they grow, and turned old Bjorn the Bear’s sleeping quarters into a real chicken coop. They are also building two large fenced in areas beside the barn. on either side, one for the sheep and one for the cows. I hope this trip will find something more permanent so when the word comes, and I have to sail off, I can know my home will be cared for.”

“You will be sailing again?”

“It is only a matter of time. I don’t expect Abraxas to give up.”

They stopped by the docks. “I worry about you, you know.”

“Feeling all motherly?” Kirstie smiled.

“No. Yes. But I worry about these hags as you describe them. I saw the body of Chief Birger after the King’s house. A bear could not have done a better job of ripping the poor man to shreds.” Inga looked around and lowered her voice. “Buttercup explained to me how you are a goddess to the spirits of the earth. I understood better when you went away, and Elgar came from the past to stand in your place. Elgar lived in the past, did he not?” Kirstie nodded, so she continued. “But I do not like the idea of you fighting one of the gods. That thought frightens me to no end.”

Kirstie kept the smile, though it was perhaps not so pointed. “Especially since in this life I am just an ordinary human.”

Inga almost smiled herself. “Graced and empowered by Njord and Fryer, and who knows who else.”

“No one else at this time. The gods have all gone over to the other side, and this Abraxas needs to join them. He has been given two chances. First, the Nameless god threw him out of all the lands of Aesgard. And second, the gods agreed. Junior Amun threw him out of the Middle East and from the ancient lands of Karnak and Luxor in Egypt and North Africa. Amphitrite, queen of the seas threw him out of her waters, including the Atlantic and every sea connected to the ocean, and as the last Olympian, she threw him out of the lands of Olympus. Danna, the mother goddess of the Celts threw him off the continent, so he only has the big islands in the west for his home. He must stop interfering with the natural course and development of the human race, and he is supposed to find the courage to give up this life and go over to the other side. He is not supposed to be trying to find ways to come here or come back to the continent. He should not be making hags to do his dirty work.”

“He must die?” Inga tried to understand.

Kirstie nodded. She did not mind telling the volve in training. “It is like dying. He must let go of his flesh and blood and return to being the pure spirit he actually is.”

Inga shook her head, so Kirstie explained as well as she could.

“A pure spirit has no eyes to see nor ears to hear. It has no hands to touch the earth. The sun still shines. The wind still blows, but the gods no longer have the ability to see or feel what they are doing. They are directed now by the Most High God, the source of all.” Kirstie pulled out her little cross and held it tightly in her hand. “Maybe God will be gracious to help me find the help I need.”

Inga could nod for that. “Good luck,” she said, and Kirstie hugged her motherly friend and climbed aboard the Red Herring, a karve ready to sail north into the fjord. The next day, the Red Herring returned with nails and other goods for the village, and Kirstie returned with Fiona, a woman in her mid-thirties, and her two sons named after the saints in Northumbria, Oswald and Edwin.

Storyteller Tales & Thoughts

Stories and reflections on storytelling

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