Speculative Fiction

Medieval 5: K and Y 9 Hiccups, part 3 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

When they returned to Strindlos, Kirstie told Mariwood to vacate the sack of grain he had lived in for the past month while they made their way home. He made a hole in the sack where he could slip out to exercise his wings flying around the outside of the ship beneath the rail so he could stay hidden from the crew. Some crew members swore they saw something flying around from time to time, but they all assumed it was a seabird of some sort and Kirstie did not tell them otherwise. Of course, she knew he was there, but she did not bother him. Yrsa also knew he was there and slipped him a bit of fish or herring now and then when the crew ate. Yrsa did not need a full man’s portion, and Mariwood was small enough not to need much at all. It worked out.

“How did you know?” Mariwood asked, and then corrected himself. “Of course, you knew.” Kirstie just nodded and let him come to her shoulder where he could hide in her hair while they went ashore.

Inga stood on the dock waiting for her, Buttercup hiding in Inga’s hair. Surprisingly, Hilda also stood there beside a young man. Hilda knew nothing about the fairies and elves, but she was Kirstie’s old friend, her best friend, and Kirstie felt curious. Hilda was sixteen, and Kirstie imagined she wanted to introduce her boyfriend. She found out differently. Hilda married the nineteen-year-old Troels, and the girl was already pregnant.

“Married?” Kirstie shouted and hugged the girl. Kirstie was nearly fifteen, but she could not imagine herself getting married. No one but Kare showed any interest, and he was not an option in her mind. She imagined she did not have time for a boyfriend, though she also admitted the Vanlil invasion and her part in it may have scared off some of the boys. Her proclaiming herself a shield maiden and sailing off with a shipload of men did not help either. Though she also wondered if maybe Kare threatened others to stay away. That would not have surprised her. He did have some sway over the fifteen to twenty-five age group of young men. That was not necessarily a good thing for those young men.

“You must come and see our home,” Hilda said with a smile for her husband.

“I will. I promise,” Kirstie said. “But first I have to go to the big house for the dividing of the loot, and then I need to check my own house. You cannot imagine how tired I am. How about tomorrow morning? I can come for a visit tomorrow, and we can spend the whole day if you don’t mind shopping a bit. It could be just like the old days, you know, sweet sausages and all.”

“She likes to shop,” Troels said about Hilda in a noncommittal way.

Hilda looked a bit disappointed that Kirstie did not want to run and see her house right away, but she really did understand. They hugged, and Hilda took her husband off before Kirstie turned to Inga and whispered. “Married?”

Inga shrugged. “It is in the air,” she said, and as they began to walk, she added, “Buttercup wants to know who your friend is.”

“Mariwood. He came all the way from the Frisian shore,” Kirstie said. “I made the mistake of mentioning Buttercup and he said she sounded nice, and he would like to meet her,”

Inga nodded slightly so she would not knock the fairy off her shoulder. “It is in the air,” she said without explanation.

When it came to dividing up the loot, Captain Stenson said Kirstie deserved the lion’s share since it was her honey, ivory, and amber that made them rich. Kirstie insisted that she get her fair share, like any other crew member, and no more. Yrsa also got a share which she later gave to Kirstie because she said elves did not use coins or care about such things.

First, after they all marched to the big house, Captain Stenson offered a share to Chief Kerga on behalf of the village. He also set aside four shares for the four families who lost men in the battle of Bremerhaven. Finally, Captain Stenson took a share for his ship, which he paid for out of his own pocket. The rest got evenly divided under the watchful eye of the village elders. They had four pieces of silver left over at the end and gave one to Kirstie. Captain Stenson kept one and gave one to Frode.

“And the last one,” he said, and handed it to Inga. “For the Witcher Women. A contribution.”

“Here,” Kirstie said. “You can have my extra too.” She handed it to Inga and looked at Frode. Frode handed over his extra without a word, and they all looked at Captain Stenson. He gave them all a hard stare before he raised his eyebrows and sighed, an expression that became all too familiar around Kirstie. He handed Inga his extra and declared the division of the goods to be over, though it was not exactly over.

Most of the men left the big house, happy, even as Mother Vrya came in, followed by several strangers. A few men stuck around to pay Captain Stenson for the plows and farm implements they got in Frisia. Captain Stenson felt it only fair to give Kirstie another ten pieces of silver, since it was her amber, but Kirstie had another thing in mind. She divided her ten pieces in half and gave five to Frode and the other five back to Captain Stenson. “This is payment for a dozen sheep from each of you, and they better be good breeding stock, not just the old and the lame.”

Frode looked at her and could not resist asking, “So what do you have in mind for the rest of your money?”

Kirstie paused before she answered. “I need to hire a couple of men,” she said, and changed it to something understandable in her culture. “I need to buy a couple of thralls. I’m thinking there is no telling what condition my house and property are in right now since I have been away. I am going to need some help I can depend on to keep the land when I go off on the next voyage.”

“You plan to sail again?” Inga asked, though she did not really sound surprised.

Kirstie looked at Inga and glanced at Mother Vrya. “It is inevitable.”

Mother Vrya nodded, stood between the strangers and Kirstie, and turned to introduce Engel Bronson, the king’s representative, to Chief Kerga. The others with him were Bieger, Lind, and Gruden. Engel started right in.

“Since talking to you, we have spoken with the men of Varnes, Oglo, and on the Frosta Peninsula. All have said they gathered here in this meeting house, and Elgar the Saxon came here to draw up the plans to defeat the exiles and their allies.”

Kerga nodded. “We are the closest to Hladir, the king’s house, and the Nid River. We attacked the enemy from here.”

“Yet you say you do not even know where he came from.”

“I do not recall, exactly,” Kerga said, and tried hard not to look at Kirstie who stood with Inga beside Mother Vrya. Yrsa stood behind the others.

“Wessex,” Mother Vrya spoke up. “From the big island in the west. That was where he said he was from.”

Lind quickly spoke to the women. “There was a girl as well, a young blonde. She and Elgar were never seen together at the same time.”

“The child,” Mother Vrya nodded. “She traveled with Elgar. She was just a young child.”

“Her name?” Lind asked, demanding an answer. “Did she have a name?”

Kirstie interrupted and lied a bit. “Her Christian name was Katherine, why?” Everyone stopped to look at Kirstie who wore her armor with all her weapons. They glanced at Inga and Yrsa, what they could see of her, but Kirstie clearly stood out, dressed as she was, like one ready for battle. Engel Bronson stepped forward with another question.

“Several women went with the army, did they not?”

“I went with the army, with one of the Witcher Women,” Mother Vrya said. “We cared for the young child and healed what men we could. When men fight there is always so much blood.” The king’s men nodded, but Engle kept staring at Kirstie until she spoke.

“Don’t look at me. I went to fight. I am the daughter of Arne Carlson, the Navigator. Perhaps you heard of him? He died in Normandy, but you see, the sea is in my blood. In fact, I just returned from guiding my ship to the Frisian shore. We had a successful journey.” She lifted her bag of coins and rattled it. “And, yes,” she added. “I killed a man.”

“Do you remember the girl?”

“Katherine?” Kirstie appeared to think. “I remember Chief Birger and Captain Kerga here. I remember my captain Rune Stenson and Frode, his skipari. I remember being scared. It was my first battle. I’m not scared anymore.” Kirstie smiled and said, “Come on Yrsa. Let’s go home.” And they left the big house.

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

MONDAY

Kirstie need to build her home to have a home, and she needs to get help around the house for when she hears of another hag and has to go away again. Until then…

 

*

Medieval 5: K and Y 9 Hiccups, part 2 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Kirstie said, “Wait.” and put her hand up and called. “Mariwood.” The fairy came with a half dozen others. Aldean was the fairy negotiator, and after asking and receiving permission, he settled down on Frode’s shoulder. Kirstie tapped her shoulder for Mariwood while she turned on Aldean. “Sir Waldo is a friend. We are not here to beggar him. A reasonable exchange for the amber is fine, and North Sea prices, not what the amber is worth in Rome.”

“Yes, Lady.”

Kirstie turned to Count Duko. “Do you see? My king of a thousand ships and ten thousand men would know in a heartbeat what is happening on this distant shore. But as long as we can work things out fairly, I see no reason to send him word. I expect you will have no trouble selling our goods in the south. You will probably become rich, fat, and lazy.”

The count smiled, a crooked smile. “That is my hope.” He offered a slight bow.

Kirstie nodded. “Just so we understand each other.” She turned to Mariwood. “Would you mind sending your crew to the ship to fetch the remaining amber? Captain Stenson and Sir Waldo will need to look at it, and I am sure Count Duko will want to drool over it as well. If the crew gives you any trouble, tell Thorsten I sent you.”

“Yes, Lady,” Mariwood sounded like Aldean.

Some good deals were made that day, Count Duko got his amber at a reasonably small price in silver and Sir Waldo felt gregarious. He feasted all forty crew members, though in two shifts so half could stay aboard the ship in case Count Duko’s men decided to see if there was any more amber, ivory, or other precious items on board. Kirstie hugged Sir Waldo again before they left, thinking she may have made a friend, and he hugged her right back.

Yasmina

Yasmina was fourteen before she talked her mother into letting her go to the marketplace by herself. Of course, by herself meant having a bevy of young servant girls walk along behind the litter, and al-Rahim, Ahmed and a half-dozen guards surrounding the whole group. The guards mostly stayed back and watched, but still… Mother spent almost an hour just making sure Yasmina was properly dressed, heavy veil and all. Fortunately, it was a veil Yasmina, and Aisha could take down in the litter so they could breathe. They temporarily dropped it a couple of times in the market as well and hoped no one would tell on them.

With Aisha by her side, Yasmina led the procession of girls to the things she wanted to look at. Sadly, it meant having to put up with the prattle.

“Princess, look at this silk.”

“That yellow is the loveliest color.”

“Princess, that is a beautiful dress.”

“Look, these flowers are fresh picked.”

Aisha ignored the girls. She wore fairy weave which she could shape, color, and freshen with a thought. The material even repelled dirt so it always looked clean. As an elf, she did not honestly want anything the human world had to offer. It was mostly a time to share with Yasmina and hopefully keep her out of trouble.

Yasmina wondered what the girls might think or do if she went into the blacksmith shop to look at weapons.

Aisha and Yasmina eventually got to the jewelers in the open-air market. One old man in his booth had trinkets within reach. He kept the real and expensive items behind him on something like a pegboard that backed up almost to the wall. The center piece was a pendant. The stone looked orange, polished, and it was surrounded by red chips in a gold setting. Yasmina lowered her veil for a minute so she could breathe and figure out what she was looking at.

“Princess,” the old man said, knowing who she was. He turned his face away and put his hand up so he might not look at her.

Yasmina felt miffed. “I’m not that hard to look at.”

“Oh, no,” the old man said. “You are as beautiful as I have heard. More beautiful, but it is unseemly that a poor man such as I should see your radiant countenance with my eyes.”

Yasmina huffed and pointed. “I wish to see that pendant, the one with the orange stone in the center.” Yasmina put her veil back in place as the man smiled and turned all the way to reach for the piece.

“This is the most rare of all stones, and most expensive because of it. The stone is called amber, and it is surrounded with rubies.”

“Chips,” Aisha said. “Red emeralds.”

“Sort of all in the family for you,” Yasmina said and smiled at Aisha.

Even as the old man reached for the piece, an arm came over the board from behind and a hand grabbed the pendant. Somehow, a skinny young man squeezed between the pegboard and the wall.

The old man shouted. Two of the girls shouted. Someone yelled, “Thief,” as the young man squirted out from the back. Aisha had whipped her bow from her slip and had an arrow ready before the young man could take three steps. She fired and pinned the young man’s shirt to the wall, even as Ahmed and the guards moved to intercept him. Al-Rahim came straight to his princess as Yasmina walked the few feet to the thief where he was grabbed by the guard before he could set himself free from the arrow. She put her hand out.

The young man sheepishly put the pendant in her outstretched hand. She looked in the young man’s eyes and shook her head. “We are not playing out that story. Let him go,” she ordered. The guards looked at al-Rahim and he nodded, so they let him go. “If you are hungry, the food is in that direction,” Yasmina pointed.

The young man said nothing. He looked at al-Rahim and ran off.

She asked the jeweler how much. He gave her a price and she only bargained a little because she really wanted it.

“Lady,” Aisha said. “We did not bring enough money with us.”

“Father will make up the difference,” she responded while she slipped the gold chain around her neck so the pendant could hang between her young breasts. “One thing about being neglected by your father is he feels guilty. He gives me things to make himself feel better, like jewels and horses.” She turned on al-Rahim. “I want a real horse.” Al-Rahim said nothing.

When Yasmina and Aisha got back in the litter, they immediately lowered their veils and Yasmina couched her pendant. “Now I feel as if I have a piece of Kirstie with me,” she said. “She just got back from a real adventure.” Yasmina smiled for a moment before she turned a teary-eyes face toward her companion. “She had to kill a man,” Yasmina said and began to cry. Aisha, being an empathetic elf cried with her.

Medieval 5: K and Y 9 Hiccups, part 1 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

After Bremerhaven, the crew treated Kirstie like one of their own. On the way to the Weser, they were not sure how to treat her, and by extension, Yrsa. These women felt like intruders on their male bonding. They were not treated badly, knowing what Kirstie had done at the king’s house, but they did not treat her well, except the three young men who wanted to get to know Yrsa better. Kirstie was fourteen and still skinny. Yrsa looked eighteen and beautiful. Fortunately, for Kirstie, Yrsa was not interested in any of the men. That was a complication Kirstie did not need, and to that end, she only had to threaten one of the young men once.

On the way back down the Weser, Kirstie told some jokes she gathered from Giovanni, a life she had not even lived yet. They were jokes Giovanni taught Leonora, the harlequin in his circus. A couple of them were bawdy enough to embarrass Yrsa, but the men liked them.

Captain Stenson and Frode spent the day they took to sail back down the river counting all the silver they got in Bremerhaven. The guild masters had to get together and pool their money. With the fairy Aldean on Frode’s shoulder, the guilds did not have enough for all the amber, but they got a fair share of it along with all the ivory, honey and wax, furs, and leather. Only the grain remained unsold, and a bit of the amber.

At the mouth of the river, they found the same fishing boats turned out to block their way. Kirstie felt miffed at first before she thought to say, “I wonder what he wants.” Yrsa and Kirstie dressed in their dresses and waited for the longboat to be lowered. This time, there appeared to be a delegation on the shore, complete with some tents and real looking soldiers. Captain Stenson steered the longboat directly there.

When they landed, Kirstie got out of the boat and shouted, “Where’s Waldo?” She confessed to Yrsa, “I always wanted to say that, but Genevieve did it first.” Yrsa frowned, not exactly knowing what Kirstie was talking about. Kirstie just figured out that Sir Waldo showed the piece of amber to someone who knew its actually worth, and he could not let them go without seeing if they had any more.

One man on the shore looked better dressed than the soldiers around him. He stepped forward and talked to Captain Stenson and Frode by introducing himself. “I am Count Duko come from the king’s court in Utrecht. It has come to my attention that you have obtained some amber. I would like you to consider a trade if such may be arranged.” He looked back at his soldiers as if to suggest they better agree to give up the amber, one way or another, or he might just take it.

Captain Stenson put on his shrewd face, which was not very shrewd. “We only have a little left, but I think something may be arranged. Where is Sir Waldo? He seemed a reasonable fellow.”

The count shook his head. “This is the king’s business.”

Kirstie heard from Mariwood and the local elf king that they were present and available if they should be needed. Despite the implied threat of the count, she hoped they would not be needed.

“I am sure something equitable can be arranged,” Captain Stenson said.

Frode interrupted this time. “How fortunate. Since the Lady Kristina may represent the King of Norway in certain matters, having come home from the king’s house not that long ago. It is fortunate to be able to speak with a representative of the King of Frisia. Perhaps you two can share notes on the disposition of various kings.” Frode wrapped up the lies in his friendliest smile, and Yrsa, being an elf, translated the lies with a perfectly serious and unflinching face.

Kirstie played along with a kind smile and a slight curtsey, which she imagined she did a bit better than the last time. “Harald Fairhair, my king of a thousand ships and ten thousand men at arms sends greetings to the King of Frisia in the hopes that we may establish an equitable relationship for mutual benefit.”

Count Duko hesitated. He had not expected this, but he did not hesitate for long. “But your king is far away and not able to know what transpires on a foreign shore. Yours is a trade mission, not a diplomatic one.”

“A simple ruse to see if our two peoples may share in fair economic benefit for both of our peoples. Who, but the king would have access to such precious commodities as amber and ivory? Alas, we only have a small bit of amber to test the waters, so to speak, but we might be willing to fairly trade it for some of the things we need. We have resources to make us rich, but we lack some of the common commodities that make life better.”

“This is nonsense,” Count Duko decided.

“I perceive that you have no light saber,” Kirstie whispered as a handful of men rode up to the shore and dismounted right away to march to the meeting. Kirstie scooted past Count Duko, Yrsa following, and Kirstie hugged the big man. “Sir Waldo. I found you. I was beginning to be afraid you would leave me in the hands of the wretched Count Duko.” She let go and took Sir Waldo’s arm, and he patted her hand like a doting grandfather.

“Waldo. The king will have the amber these people carry, and it is none of your business,” Count Duko spoke sternly.

“This is my business,” Sir Waldo shot right back. “This is my land by the king’s decree. I am here to defend the sea and the river delta against all who would disrupt the peace. You have no right to come to my land and interfere with legitimate merchants and trading ships that I have allowed to proceed.”

The count steamed, but before he could erupt, Kirstie spoke.

“We would be glad to trade what little amber we have left if Sir Waldo is able to procure from his people the things we seek. Then I imagine Sir Waldo might sell the amber to the king to recoup his expenses and maybe a bit extra for his trouble, and it would still be far below what the amber may be worth in some markets. I am sure the lords of Lotharingie, Austrasie, Alemagne, and Burgogne would pay handsomely for the rare jewels since they have no access to northern ports to buy it directly. What say you, Sir Waldo.”

Count Duko looked at the man. Indeed, everyone looked at the man who appeared to be thinking. “What is it you seek?” Eyes turned to Kirstie who felt glad Count Duko did not outright object like a man who maybe wanted the amber for practically nothing.

Kirstie pointed to her people. “Captain Stenson, a fine captain, and his number one Frode are shepherds back home. Their families are well known for the fine wool they produce. We had some carded wool from the captain and his skipari among the furs and leather we brought, but that went to the people of Bremerhaven.” She pointed out to the ship. “As you can see, we have plenty of lumber to build fine sea faring ships. And you see the crew? They can fight like berserkers when they must, but do not be fooled by their appearance. The secret of the Norsemen is they are mostly just farmers and fishermen as well. What we would like is some quality plows and farm implements, some good quality tools, and the like such as farmers and fishermen need and use. That should not be a problem for you, though we would like to get a fair number of things for the amber we have left. We may bargain some, but we wish to make a fair deal so we may come again knowing we have an honest trading partner. I cannot say how much more amber we may be able to bring on a future visit, but you never know.”

Kirstie took a breath and looked at Count Duko. Clearly, he had not considered the idea that this might be more than a one-time event. If Waldo could get the amber for the price of some farm implements, and if he could buy it all at a modest price and sell it at a high price as the girl suggested, he could become rich, legitimately, and not have to kill anyone to do it.

Sir Waldo smiled as he thought about it. He said a couple of good plows and tools would not be a problem. Captain Stenson and Frode also smiled. It was what they mostly wanted, and it would save them the silver it would cost in the Danish or Norwegian trading centers to purchase the same things.

“I am sure something equitable can be arranged,” Captain Stenson repeated himself.

Medieval 5: K and Y 8 The Saxon Hag, part 2 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

“But wait…” Captain Otto started to object but got interrupted when a half dozen fairies flew up in front of him. They immediately got big and bowed to the girl.

“Lady,” the head fairy said, and Yrsa still translated for Otto and his men. “The hag is on the road bringing forty families and forty more men to Bremerhaven. I suspect they will attack the town to take control. I have no doubt they intend to invite Abraxas to cross over the channel and come to the continent.”

Kirstie paused and flipped to a totally different subject. “You look familiar,” she said to the fairy. “Why is that?”

The fairy smiled. “My father was Maywood and my mother Marigold, if you remember them.”

Kirstie smiled more as if to say she remembered. That was back in the days of Margueritte, and Genevieve. She stopped smiling when the fairy’s words penetrated. She called to her armor and weapons, and that shut everyone’s mouths. She quickly picked ten of the crew and told them to stay and guard the treasure,

“But wait…” Captain Otto said the words again, but he did not appear to know what else to say.

Kirstie grabbed the man’s hand. “Christian Otto. You better come and bring your twenty soldiers. The rest of you men follow me.” The men were typical Vikings, not inclined to listen to any woman other than their wife or mother, though they might give Mother Vrya and the Witcher Women a hearing. Kirstie, however, they knew in a different way. They followed her in the battle against the Vanlil, and they were dramatically reminded of just how special she was when the fairies came and bowed to her.

“Mariwood.” She named the fairy. “Please lead the way.” The fairy bowed again, got small with his companions, and flew in front. After a short way, Kirstie tapped her shoulder and Mariwood gladly came to rest there and ride where he could whisper the directions in her ear.

“I can tell you have done this before,” Mariwood said. “I would have thought you were still too young, no offence.” he pulled a little on her hair to get comfortable.

“Buttercup stays mostly with my friend Inga, but she rides on my shoulder sometimes.”

Mariwood thought for a minute before he added. “Buttercup sounds nice.”

“I don’t know,” Kirstie said. “She is what some call a frost fairy. It gets pretty cold where I live.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Mariwood said and got silent for a time to think about it. They had gotten to the Bremen Road that the hag and her people were coming up, so there were no more directions to give. It was just as well because Captain Otto finally had some questions he thought to ask.

“Are you a Valkyrie?”

Kirstie thought before she answered. “No. I’m a Shield Maiden. That is a female warrior among my people. Apart from that, I am a Christian as I confessed, and you should be the same. The old gods have gone away, and the new way has come. Do not doubt that. The hag we go to face, the servant of Abraxas who calls himself a god, is a terrible creature that has a whole town of people enchanted under her evil spell. Any doubt or confusion on your part and she will attack your mind.” Kirstie took a deep breath and said softly, “Although the Valkyrie used to work for me in the old days, or rather, they worked for themselves. I’m just the one who got blamed when they screwed up.” She remembered one time in particular before she quickly threw her hand over Yrsa’s mouth, so she did not translate that last part about the Valkyrie.

In a short way, they ran into the hag and her followers. The numbers were about even, and though the old lady hag looked surprised that the Vikings and townspeople appeared to be working together. Even so, much like the hag in Norway, this old lady hag anticipated their arrival. Her men came out from the trees and bushes and Kirstie’s and Captain Otto’s men barely had time to defend themselves.

Kirstie managed to get her shield to the front in time to block a spear. She stepped forward, making the long spear useless and swung her battleaxe, practically taking the man’s head off. Yrsa shot the man to her left. Mariwood got down and got big to stab the man to her right. It seemed they were ganging up on her position, but her Vikings pushed forward and pushed the enemy back, while Captain Otto and his soldiers kept the men away from her flank.

Kirstie, who stood by the river, had a moment to focus on the hag. Apparently, Kirstie noticed she picked up some elves during her march through town. The hag, reverted to a big, hairy monster, had taken several elf arrows. The arrows stuck, not being made by men. Yrsa managed a perfect shot in the hag’s eye. but while the hag roared from the pain, it pulled the arrows out, including the one from her eye, and she healed over. She instantly grew a new eye once the arrow was removed.

Kirstie did not know what to do. The road ran along the river, but the hag stayed on the far edge of the road, far away from the water. Someone shot a flaming arrow. It got followed by several flaming arrows, and like the last time, the hag roared in delight. It grew bigger as it became covered in flames, and it looked far stronger as its roar deepened. Kirstie panicked. She felt sure no convenient ogre would tackle the hag and shove the hag into the river.

She thought of Njord. It should be enough. Grandfather Njord said it would be enough, but before she could do anything, the burning, monstrous hag rushed to attack her. Kirstie screamed and backed up, only to trip over a rock by the river and fall on her backside. The hag was not so lucky as she reached her claws out to rip Kirstie to shreds, only to paw at the air. Kirstie proved to be a stumbling block. The hag’s forward motion caused it to trip over Kirstie and arms flailing, land smack in the river. Kirstie heard the hag yell.

“No. Abraxas, help me.” Then came the scream, and the hag quickly reverted to the old woman and melted to a puddle on the surface of the slow-moving water.

Captain Otto and his soldiers stopped fighting first when the enemy turned away, went to their knees, threw down their weapons, held their heads and moaned. Not to their credit, Kirstie’s Viking shipmates stopped last and killed a few of the enemy even when they were in no position to fight back.

The women and children under control of the hag that kept back during the fighting came up weeping. The men also wept. Kirstie thought it best to shout and Yrsa also shouted the translation. “Shipmates, back to the ship. Help the wounded.” She yelled at seven men to stay with her to help clean up the battlefield. and to the rest to remind them that they have a treasure to guard until we can sell it. “Captain Otto, sorry to leave you with the surviving men, women, and children. You can practice some Christian compassion. Remember, they were enchanted and could not help themselves. You might also find some converts among them.”

Kirstie stopped suddenly when she realized she killed a man. It all happened so fast. She just responded. It was reflex, like Bjorn the Bear said. She felt like throwing up. She did not want to do that in front of her shipmates. She looked at Yrsa and saw tears forming in the elf’s eyes. Thorsten, the big man who rowed behind her must have recognized the signs of distress. He hugged her with a soft word.

“You are one of us now.” He added a softer thought. “This is a terrible world we live in.” Kirstie did let out a few tears as Thorsten turned to the task at hand. They had three dead that needed to be buried. Captain Otto lost five. Kirstie had one shipmate who was so badly wounded he would probably not live the night. The enemy lost twelve and many were wounded. They did not fight well in their enchanted state. Fortunately, now that they were out from under the hag’s influence, they were more than willing to carry the dead into town where they could be properly buried.

Kirstie pulled herself together and called to Captain Otto. She grabbed Thorsten’s hand and one from the captain. “Don’t let go,” she insisted, but that was all she said as she went away, and Mother Greta came to take her place. Captain Otto let go, but at least he did not shriek. Thorsten surprisingly held on. In fact, he smiled and lifted his chain and leather to show the scar where he had been cut in the side.

“From the king’s house,” Thorsten said, and Greta returned the smile. She recognized her own work, but she did not dwell. She turned to Captain Otto and asked a question.

“How is your Latin?” She asked in Latin.

That question seemed to bring the man back to reality. He shook his head. “Not good.”

“Yrsa,” she called. “You will still have to translate.” Then she had a thought. “Mariwood.” he was right there. “You need to send a couple of your people to Rune and Frode in the guild hall or wherever they are. They may need help driving a good and fair bargain, so one of your people needs to be good at bargaining. We don’t want to beggar the people of Bremerhaven, but we want a fair return for the value of the goods we carry.”

“Right,” Mariwood said and reverted to fairy form. That got the shriek out of Captain Otto, and Greta could not help commenting.

“What? I still have blonde hair.” Greta knew Kirstie’s hair was more of a dirty blonde where hers was more platinum, almost white blonde, but still, it was not dark brown like Margueritte’s hair.

“But who are you?” Captain Otto asked. “You are older than the girl, and more…”

“More round?” Greta admitted. “I am Mother Greta, and the nearest you have to a healer in this place. Doctor Mishka is not authorized to come and help. Come. Let us see who we can help, even if my skills are seven hundred and fifty years out-of-date.” Greta already looked around and knew where she wanted to go first. Many of these men could be saved if they were careful to not let their wounds get infected. There was honestly nothing she could do about the worst.

“Valkyrie,” Captain Otto mumbled as he, Thorsten, and Yrsa followed Greta all afternoon.

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

MONDAY

The ship still needs to return home which is difficult when they get stopped again in the delta. Until Monday, Happy Reading

*

Medieval 5: K and Y 8 The Saxon Hag, part 1 of 2

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Kirstie

Yrsa proved her worth early on when they stopped in a port on Jutland to replenish their supplies. She could communicate with the Jutes and Danes in a way that sounded like a native. The crew understood most of what the Danes said, and could respond, but not exactly, and they sounded like foreigners. Yrsa got better cooperation from the village chiefs.

They had some rough weather along the Danish coast and needed to stop again near a village of Nordalbings by the delta of the Elbe River. They needed to repair their sail among a few other small things. The village men turned out on the second day, but Yrsa also spoke Old German like a native and convinced the villagers to leave them alone. They would be moving on and leave the village in peace.

By the time they reached the Frisian coast at the delta of the Weser, no one was really surprised that Yrsa was also fluent in the Frisian tongue. Frode even said that now he understood why Kirstie brought the girl. The Frisians blocked the ship with fishing boats. They were mostly fishermen and farmers with farm implements, not really soldiers prepared to fight, but they were a bit of an army.

Kirstie dressed herself in fairy weave and shaped it to imitate the blue dress she had seen on a rich woman in Danish lands. Yrsa only wore fairy weave and imitated Kirstie’s dress but insisted on hunter green. The men were good and did not whistle at all, even when they saw Yrsa in a dress. Kirstie leaned on the rail and spoke to Captain Stenson while the men lowered the longboat.

“Interesting,” Kristie mentioned to Captain Stenson. “By this date the people along the coasts assume any longship means trouble.” They raised a white flag and rowed the longboat out to the big fishing ship the Frisians indicated. Four men, the rowers, stayed in the longboat while Captain Stenson, Frode, Kirstie and Yrsa climbed to the deck. They found a dozen men decked out in more military garb, and one knight who spoke for all the locals. The knight and his soldiers looked surprised to see the women, though less surprised when Yrsa translated everything.

Kirstie and Captain Stenson discussed it, and the captain spoke appropriately. “I am Captain Rune Stenson, a simple trader. sailing my ship with trade goods headed for Bremen. We will sail up the Weser River, and after we have made whatever deals we can make, we will return this way to the sea. We have no intention of bothering you or your people. You can see the flag we fly” It showed an R, n, and crooked t over the picture of a stone. “That is me, Rune Stenson. Sten in our tongue is the word for stone. This way when you see my ship you can be assured that we come in peace.”

“And what do you have to trade?” The knight sounded skeptical.

“Grain, and bundles of furs and fine leather from the north. We are not rich men.”

“And I should trust you?”

Kirstie butted in front of Captain Stenson and interrupted, as was becoming her tendency. “Do you have a name, or do we call you Mister Person in Charge?”

“This is my land, given to me by the king to protect the land from your kind.” He stared at the girl before he softened and said, “I am Sir Waldo of Deventer.”

Kirstie smiled, stepped up to grab and shake the man’s hand before he could object. Later, she imagined she was channeling Lord Festuscato, Last Senator of Rome, a life she lived in the centuries between Greta and Margueritte. “I am Lady Kristina of Strindlos, and I would rather be your friend than your enemy. I mean, look at me. I mean you no harm. Besides…” she pointed generally toward the fishing boats. “You have a bunch of farmers and fishermen, not fighters. I am sure you would rather save them to bring in the fish and work in your fields. There is no reason we should fight.”

Sir Waldo stared at the girl and frowned, but just a little. “Bremen?” he asked and pointed toward the river. He might let them through to bother the Saxons if they promised to leave Frisia alone.

“Yes, sir,” Kirstie answered. “It is a big town that might be interested in our goods. But look. I am willing to make a pledge of friendship or maybe call it something for safe passage up the river. Let me give you this piece of amber. I found a couple of pieces right by my house and I thought surely the Lord was smiling on me.” Sir Waldo raised an eyebrow, and Kirstie said plainly. “I am a Christian.” She pulled out her little wooden cross.

He did not exactly believe her, but he saw no reason to waste his men fighting a merchant ship. He looked at the amber in his hand and spoke. “Lady Kristina of Strindlos.” he remembered. “You may pass, and I may even hope you do well in Bremen.”

Kirstie grinned. “Lady,” she said. “Back home they mostly just call me a girl, not a lady, except my companion Yrsa. She calls me Lady.”

Yrsa translated and added, “Yes I do.” She bowed to Kirstie and said, “Lady,” in both languages.

Sir Waldo smiled for the first time. “And a fine young woman, I am sure.”

Kirstie returned the smile and added a small curtsey, though it felt a bit awkward. “Thank you, Sir Waldo. The Word says kindness is a virtue, and sometimes we entertain angels unaware. I also hope we make some good trades.” She hustled Rune and Frode to the longboat and thought to wave as they rowed back to their own ship, as any young girl might.

Captain Stenson turned on her when they got out of earshot. “You need to let me bargain for my own ship.”

“Sorry,” Kirstie said. “I just thought getting out of a tight spot without bloodshed was good, and I thought an innocent young girl might get a better response than harsh words.”

“I am sure that is true,” Frode said, and Captain Stenson reluctantly nodded.

When they climbed back aboard the ship, Yrsa immediately changed her fairy weave back into leather-like slacks and a leather tunic over her plain shirt. She picked up her bow and arrows and sat on her bench without a word.

“So, young lady,” Captain Stenson began, ready to make some snappy remark but shut his mouth when Kirstie called and became clothed again in her armor, her sword and knife at her side, her long knife across the small of her back, and her battleaxe diagonally across her back, reaching up to her shoulder beneath her shield.

“I guess I’m not made for dresses,” Kirstie said.

Frode countered. “I think you and Yrsa are made for dresses just fine.”

Kirstie made a face at him and took off her weapons so she could sit and help row up the river.

Finding the Weser River was the easy part. Being able to get up the river to Bremen without drawing out a real army was a bit tricky. They passed more farms and a Frisian hamlet in the delta. They had to stop in Bremerhaven, the first German town when word got there before the ship arrived. They had the ship searched. Captain Otto, the head man in the dock wanted to confiscate the cargo as soon as he discovered what they carried. Yrsa had to translate for the men and related what Captain Otto said. Captain Stenson and Frode got ready to start a fight, but Kirstie, dressed in her dress, stepped between the men, and totally interrupted, again.

“You don’t want to do that,” Kirstie stood up to the man. “These goods are for trade and for sale. Are you making an offer to buy these things?” Yrsa translated into the Old German tongue.

Captain Otto frowned at what he considered to be a child. He looked at the anger on the faces of Rune and Frode, turned his head to look at the two dock workers beside him and the twenty soldiers he had on the dock, along with the many dock workers there who stopped whatever they were doing to watch. He decided to speak to the child and explained in his most condescending manner. “There are taxes and docking fees that need to be paid, and since you have no coin of the realm, we will take and sell your goods. After the taxes, fees, and all have been paid, we will give you what is left.” He smiled for the girl, looking like the drunk uncle at the Christmas table that no one wanted to hear from, until the girl asked him an unexpected question.

“Are you a Christian?” The man paused and looked confused before he nodded. “And does the Lord condone stealing?”

“It is hardly stealing from pagan unbelievers.”

“It is stealing, but in any case, I am also a Christian, and you would be stealing from me.” Kirstie pulled her wooden cross out from beneath her shirt. “Thou shalt not steal is one of the ten commandments.”

One of the dock workers whispered to his captain, “She is right.” Yrsa heard and translated the words out loud. Kirstie continued.

“Rune and Frode. You need to go into town and find the guild masters that might be interested in our wares. At least the jewelers, the bakers, and the candlestick makers for the beeswax, and maybe the smiths and the tailors for the hides. Ivory is good for the pommel of a sword. See what they offer, and if it is not a king’s ransom, tell them we will go down to Bremen. I am sure we will get a good price there.”

“The guild masters?” Captain Stenson asked.

“Of course,” Kirstie answered. “Who have you been selling to?”

“Whoever was in…”

“…never mind,” Captain Stenson said. “Come on.”

Medieval 5: K and Y 7 Buying a Ride, part 2 of 2

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Kirstie

Kirstie sat, so the men sat. She dressed in slacks and a simple tunic that covered the shape she was developing at her young age. The men came dressed in what may have been their best. They bathed and maybe even washed their hair. They wanted something from her and were willing to make the effort of a good appearance. Kirstie smiled at the thought of them making the effort.

“So, tell me,” she began. “How did your voyage work out?”

Captain Stenson looked at Frode before he began the story. “On our first trip, we followed the land south, thinking the men needed a good beginning and we did not want to get lost at sea,” Captain Stenson explained. “We had furs, grain, mostly wheat, and several bundles of down and feathers. We should have made a good return on all that. We visited Kupang, our own main trading center, but we lost most of our grain in the king’s tax. We gained some silver for the feathers but could not find an interest in our furs and hides, which was mostly what we had. We thought to try the Danish center of Ribe. Back when I sailed with Captain Birger, I recalled they were interested in the fur trade.”

“We headed for Jutland,” Frode interrupted. “We sailed two days down the wrong side of the peninsula before we turned around.”

“One day,” Rune insisted. “We figured it out after the first day.”

Frode shrugged. “We backtracked and went around.”

“Anyway,” Captain Stenson continued. “We found Ribe was willing to take our goods, but we hardly got their worth. We did not fail on the trip, but we hardly made any profit.”

Frode looked like he was going to complain so Kirstie interrupted. “What did you take on your second trip? I am guessing the men contributed all the furs and feathers they had for the first trip.”

“No,” Captain Stenson said. “We have brothers and sons who continued to get furs and hides over the year we were away. Trade is very much a family business. We had some grain again, though this time mostly barley, but most of what we had was bundles of carded wool from my family and Frode’s family. We thought to visit the Oyskjeggs thinking the island must have very cold winters.”

“Orkney and Shetland Islands,” Frode explained.

Captain Stenson frowned. “We landed in Danelaw, in Northumbria where they have flocks of sheep covering every hillside.” Kirstie nodded. She understood why so many of her people turned from honest trade to taking what they wanted. They simply did not have the trade goods for a good exchange.

Frode groused. “We unloaded our wool in East Anglia for practically nothing.”

“We crossed straight over the sea,” Captain Stenson said with a hard look at Frode. “We thought to hit the Danish coast but landed in Frisia near Utrecht. They came out armed against us, and we ran. Eventually we found a Frisian fishing village and the men all but rebelled. We went into the village and took a few things. A couple of good plows and farm implements, and some glassware.”

“They paid us off to go away.”

“We left our leftover wool, fur and hides there. Some good leather, so we did not actually steal their things,” Captain Stenson said. “At least I like to think of it as a trade.”

“I understand in Iberia and North Africa, quality furs like beaver, ermine, and fox pelts go for a premium price,” Kirstie said.

“But that is so far away,” Captain Stenson countered.

Frode looked at the ground. “I honestly would not know how to get there.”

“So, what do you have this time?” Kirstie asked. “Obviously, you came to me because you are getting ready for the next trip. I know right where to go if you have the right goods to trade.”

Rune and Frode looked at each other again, and Frode spoke softly. “We were wondering if you could maybe teach me what your father taught you… What?”

Kirstie simply shook her head. “I am going. I would not be the first maiden to go on a trading expedition. Besides, you will need the goods I bring to trade. Did you forget?” Kirstie called, and her slacks and tunic became instantly replaced by the armor of the Kairos with her sword at her side, her battleaxe and shield at her back, and her long knife across the small of her back. “Yrsa,” she called while Captain Stenson and Frode got over their shock.

“Lady?” Yrsa came from the other room dressed in fine leather with two knives at her side and her bow and arrows at her back. She looked ready for war. She also appeared as the elf she was, having neglected her glamour of humanity.

“You need to dress,” Kirstie said.

“Sorry,” Yrsa said and applied her glamour to appear human. Yrsa and Kirstie worked this out in advance to remind the men without frightening them too badly.

Captain Stenson started to think. “We need to take both of you?”

Kirstie stood and got the men to stand. She said little as she and Yrsa took them to the barn. She showed them what she gathered in preparation for this day. “Three large jugs of the finest honey, compliments of the Fairies of the Glen.” She unscrewed the lid of one jug and let them stick a finger in to taste the sweetness before she carefully closed it tight again. She showed them the beeswax to go with the honey before she pulled back a horse blanket and spoke. “Three pairs, six walrus tusks of good ivory, a gift of the dwarfs of the mountains. They said there is plenty more, but I would not let them kill any of the beasts. These are from walruses that died of natural causes. They are from older beasts, and you can see where a couple of them are chipped and this one is missing the tip end. Walruses, you know. They fight each other like men fight each other.”

“This is worth a fortune,” Frode mumbled, but Kirstie was not finished.

“And last,” she said and removed another blanket to reveal a basket of amber. “From Lord Amber and the elves of the woods. This is a one-time deal, but these things go with Yrsa and I, and they go where we need to go.” She paused to let the men calculate how much silver they could get for what they were looking at. “Yrsa and I will be sailing with you, and Frode, I will teach you what I can while we are on the way.”

Captain Stenson did not ponder long. “So, where are we going?” he asked, though he looked at Yrsa and wondered how such a good-looking eighteen-year-old girl might do on a voyage.

“Bremen, in Saxony,” Kirstie answered, and when they got on the ship, she made Yrsa sit in front of her where she could keep an eye on the elf maiden and wondered much the same thing as the captain.

Medieval 5: K and Y 7 Buying a Ride, part 1 of 2

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Kirstie

Kirstie got word through the elf and fairy grapevine that a hag was seen in Saxony, around Bremen on the Weser River. She imagined she guessed right. She would have to direct Rune’s ship to the Frisian shore and up the Weser to find the hag and put her out of business.

She looked at her hands and thought about the fire and the water that killed the hag of the Vanlil. She could start a fire by merely pointing at the wood and thinking about it. She could project a light from her hands, like two flashlights on a dark night, and could make herself glow in the dark if she wanted. Then, she could shoot the fire from her hands, or put the heat and light together, like some alien heat-ray. She only tried that once, but the result was a pile of ash where a tree once stood. Kirstie remembered when Fryer visited her, he turned a whole copse of trees into ash just by his mere presence.

She also thought about Njord’s visit. It did not seem like much at the time, but since then she found she could stay underwater for an indefinite amount of time. It was like she was breathing underwater, and she could see and even hear underwater just like she was on land. That was about the best she could describe it. What is more, she always felt warm in the water, even when it had ice by the shore. On cold and blustery winter days, she often threw herself into the ice water of the fjord to warm up. She could swim fast as a dolphin, almost like flying through the water, and she could call to any fish that were nearby. She could actually tell the fish to jump into her boat, so she always had a good catch of fish and without having to cast a net or fishing line. It felt strange that she could do these things, but she figured they were gifts and more than she needed. She knew that basically she needed the fire and the water to kill whatever hag she encountered. Kirstie pictured herself setting the hag on fire with the fire in her hands and then putting it out with the water she carried inside. That would do it, and it would be enough, as Grandfather Njord and Father Fryer said.

When Kirstie turned thirteen, she first wondered why the Norwegian hag went all the way to Jamtaland in the first place. She must have been a Norwegian from Northumbria in the British Isles; the only place Abraxas was permitted to go. She must have done a kind of reverse immigration, but she could have landed at Hof or Upphaugr on the coast in the first place and worked on the people there to invite Abraxas to come across the sea to their homes. Why travel all the way to Jamtaland where she had to invade and fight her way to the sea?

Kirstie imagined she figured it out when she thought of the hag in Bremen, and when she remembered Margueritte, a life she lived in Brittany some two hundred years earlier. Margueritte fought her own hag and found the hag gained power over the people when the celts and their druids were confronted with Father Aden and his Christians. The people became confused and no longer certain what to believe. That was when the hag stepped in with word of Abraxas, a god of the ancients, but a living god to be worshiped.

The people of Hof and all the Trondelag worshiped the gods of the Aesir and had no confusion in their mind. Likewise, the Vanlil—the Jamts worshiped the Vanir. but then they took in many Aesir worshiping exiles who claimed that some of the Vanir had become Aesir. That happened as a result of a war in the lifetime of Faya, daughter of Fryer. Kirstie remembered being Faya briefly when Fryer came to visit. Faya, as an outsider, found a way to make peace and bring the two waring houses of the gods together. That happened ages and ages ago, but the Vanlil, just now learning about that, must have thrown their minds into confusion, not knowing what to believe. They became fodder for the hag and the worship of an actual living god, Abraxas.

Kirstie thought about the hag in Saxony. There were certainly plenty of Saxons in the British Isles for Abraxas to choose from. He no doubt sent the woman back to Saxony, but then she needed to find a place where the people still clung to the old gods and the old traditions but were being confronted with the Christian world. The Storyteller life she lived in the future told her about how Charlemagne slaughtered some four thousand five hundred Saxons between Verden and Bremen. The Saxons there were in rebellion against the empire and thus against the Christian faith the empire promoted. Now, all these years later, more confusion. Another opportunity for Abraxas. Kirstie remembered Margueritte’s friend, Boniface did great work among the Saxons and Frisians alike, but sometimes and in some places the old ways died slowly.

That must be it, she thought to herself. He needs to find a people who don’t know where to turn so he can offer stability if they turn to him. Sadly, that did not help her get to where she needed to be. But then she turned fourteen, and Rune and Frode returned from a second trip. Captain Harrold sailed into the docks a week earlier and the people mourned for the crew members he lost. When Rune came home, several men deserted his ship to sail with Captain Harrold Harroldson, including Kare and Thoren.

Captain Stenson and Frode finally came to visit Kirstie in her house, not exactly carrying their hats in their hands, but near enough. She had ale and snacks prepared and sat them in her living area. “The ale is from the special recipe of Bjorn the Bear. Tell me what you think. I know he enjoyed it while he lived.”

“Bjorn the Bear?” Frode asked, knowing the name well.

“He taught me to handle my weapons, especially the battleaxe. I understand he was an expert who killed many men.”

Captain Stenson drew a long face. “I do not doubt you know how to defend yourself. Bjorn the Bear was an expert, as you say.” He looked around the room before he thought of what to add. “But it will take more than just knowing how to defend yourself to sail in a longship.”

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

MONDAY

Kirstie needs to secure her ride and then get to Saxony to confront the hag. Until Monday, Happy Reading

*

Medieval 5: K and Y 6 Getting Ready, part 2 of 2

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Kirstie

In those days, Inga and Buttercup visited regularly to where Kirstie’s house became like a second home, and they spent the night often enough.

“But there was so much yelling,” Buttercup explained about Captain Harrold’s visit. She fluttered down to the table where Kirstie made a soft cushioned stool just her size. “It was scary.” she finished and settled down.

“But it turned out all right,” Inga said.

“I heard the yelling all the way up here,” Yrsa said whether that was true or not.

They all looked at Kirstie, but Kirstie had something else in mind. “Buttercup, come here.”

“Come where?” Buttercup asked. “I am here.”

“No, here,” Kirstie said and used her hands to show where she meant. She thought there would be enough space in that spot. The fairy complied and everyone looked curious before Kirstie said, “Now, get big.”

Buttercup fretted and swayed a little back and forth in the air until she made up her mind. She got big and lost the points to her ears and the wings at her back. Of course, her fairy weave clothes grew with her, so she did not appear naked in her big size. She looked down, like one embarrassed, but as Kirstie thought, she never got big before for Inga.

Yrsa let out a little gasp at how beautiful the fairy was, as all fairies should be. Buttercup looked to be about eighteen, the same as Yrsa, and Kirstie nodded to say she understood in human terms they were a smidgen younger than Inga, though Buttercup was actually one hundred and fifty-seven and Yrsa was one hundred and thirty-three. Of course, Inga saw Svator get big in the big house war meeting, but for some reason it never occurred to her to ask Buttercup to get big.

“Is this okay?” Buttercup asked without looking up.

Inga stood and hugged the girl. “You look beautiful,” she said. Yrsa and Kirstie passed a glance and got up to join the hug, and Buttercup’s small voice came out from the midst of all those huggers.

“Now I am going to get happy-weepy.”

Kirstie let go and Yrsa followed, wiping her own eyes a bit. Inga backed up and Kirstie spoke. “You can get little again if you like.”

Buttercup thought about it and shook her head. “I can stay big for a while,” she said and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Kirstie found her a regular chair and said that now she could get big when she wanted to help Inga or Mother Vrya in their work.

“I don’t know,” Inga said. “She already helped in the birth of Bodil’s baby. Poor Bodil was in terrible pain, screaming pain, and even Mother Vrya was at a loss as to what to do. Suddenly, Buttercup came racing in and hovered over the bed, hands on her hips and shouting. “Quiet. You are not having a leg chopped off. You are having a baby and that is a wonderful thing. You keep screaming and you will just scare your own baby. You don’t want to scare you own baby.” Bodil looked up at the voice and said, “Oh, a fairy.” She reached up, but Buttercup kept back. But after that, Bodil delivered her baby without another sound. It was like magic, like a miracle, like you talk about.”

Kirstie reached down beneath her shirt. She had a small wooden cross made and wore it around her neck on a leather string, but she said nothing at that time. Instead, she said, “Can’t count on that response from every human. Some might see the fairy and scream louder.”

“I know,” Buttercup said. “That is why I stay hidden in Inga’s hair.”

Inga turned to Kirstie. “I’ll never be able to braid my hair again.”

Kirstie smiled. About half of her hair was loose, but about half was beautifully braided in two long strands that fell down her back.

When Kirstie was not learning about weapons or visiting with Inga and Buttercup, she went to the village center. That happened regularly enough, and Yrsa often went with her. They always found the people in the village warm and friendly. It was not just that they knew Kirstie all her life, or even that they knew Kirstie’s parents and like them well enough. It was because they credited Kirstie with saving their village and saving so many of their lives during the Vanlil invasion and the rebellion of the exiles, all of whom eventually had their heads chopped off by the king.

Often enough, Kirstie went to the village to keep up with her friends. She met with Hilda regularly, and Hilda took her to the marketplace to look at things such as a wife and young mother might want. There was no disguising what was on Hilda’s mind. Yrsa went with them occasionally. Hilda expressed a little jealousy toward Yrsa’s closeness with Kirstie, but oddly enough, she never asked where Yrsa lived. Somehow, she got the impression that Yrsa might be from Varnes, though maybe she lived on this side of the river.

“What I honestly don’t understand is your obsession with weapons and fighting,” Hilde said. “I mean, look. Isn’t this cloth just beautiful?”

“Silk,” Kirstie named it. She knew Captain Harrold brought it back from Kent at the cost of a few men’s lives. “I’m not obsessed. I am sure when I am older, I will agree. It is beautiful. But right now… My father had a son, you know, but he did not live. I feel it is my duty to carry on the family tradition for the day when I have a son.”

Hilda did not exactly buy the explanation. “So, you plan to marry someday and have a son?”

“Kare keeps threatening me.”

Hilda smiled at that. “Liv says she is never going to marry.”

“Liv’s father might have something to say about that.”

Hilda shook her head. “Liv’s father and mother are not around much. There is something strange there. Liv is strange. She is getting stranger and stranger the older she gets.”

Kirstie nodded. She saw Liv a few times over those years. and while the girl seemed normal enough in a way, Kirstie could not disagree with Hilda that in some ways the girl seemed stranger and stranger.

One time when she got to the village, she found the king’s ship in the dock. Two men in particular, Lind and Gruden, seemed especially interested in finding Elgar the Saxon. They heard in other villages how Elgar organized the counterattack that defeated the enemies of the king.

“We just want to honor him for his help,” Lind said, though he was not a convincing liar.

“Being a Saxon, I am sure he went back to Saxony, or West Saxony, or wherever he came from,” Chief Kerga told them, and they left, not entirely happy. Kirstie sighed her relief. The people in Strindlos would not betray her, even if the king offered a reward. Well, at least that would depend on how much of a reward he offered.

Another time in the village, she ran into Kare and Thoren. In fact, she saw them several times over those years, and each time they seemed creepier than the time before. Fortunately, they sailed in Rune’s ship twice before they found a place in Harrold’s ship. Captain Harrold lost a few men in the encounter in Kent, and since Kare and Thoren had some seasoning, and since they wanted to make a change, he took them for his crew.

Thoren said, “Rune and Frode could not find their way out of a sack of grain.” Kirstie heard that as out of a paper bag. She smiled at the time and ran home to get out her father’s charts and things and review everything she could remember about navigation, as her father taught her.

After Kirstie turned thirteen, and she began to show that she might not be a skinny little blonde beanpole her entire life, Kare started in on the drumbeat that he was going to marry her. It got annoying. He said he was saving all his money, and Thoren’s, too. He said he was going to get his own ship someday soon. “Just you watch.” She watched. Granted, he was something of a leader among the boys in his generation, about Inga’s age. But he was roughly eight years older than her, which made him twenty-one to her thirteen.

To be honest, eleven, twelve, and thirteen was when girls did start thinking about marriage. If Kirstie’s father was alive, that was the age when he would start looking around to make a good match. The presumed quality of that match depended on his wealth, power, status, and standing in the community and region. It had nothing to do with what she wanted. Kirstie imagined she would have been married at sixteen or seventeen to some stranger, and it would have been up to her to make it work. But then, her father was gone, and that liberated her in some sense.

Kirstie thought about Inga, who turned twenty and almost qualified for the term old maid. Inga was pretty enough and would have made an excellent catch for any man, but her parents were also gone. Her father died at sea. His ship got caught in a terrible storm and he got washed overboard to never be seen again. That happened often enough. Then, her mother caught the winter flu and died despite the best efforts of Mother Vrya. Mother Vrya took Inga at that point to be her pupil, and Kirstie’s mother somehow convinced the girl to help watch over her wild child, Kirstie. Mother Vrya encouraged that situation, because it gave her pupil some income and a stable home environment she could count on in time of need. It also gave Inga a chance to provide a steadying influence on the wild one in her charge.

And Kirstie did settle down, some. But Inga did not marry, though she may have had a couple of offers. Kirstie got the feeling Mother Vrya ran interference for Inga with Chief Birger and others to see she did not get roped into a relationship she did not want. From time to time, Kirstie thought Kare would not be a terrible choice. At least she knew the boy—the man, creepy as he could be at times. He was not a stranger. Still, at thirteen to his twenty-one the age difference seemed insurmountable. Kare was serious. Kirstie had some words for him.

“Pervert,” she called him. “Pedophile.” Mostly, she had no interest in marriage, so it was just as well she did not take his comments seriously. She normally laughed in his face when he brought it up. At that time, she had far more important things to worry about, like where she needed to go.

Medieval 5: K and Y 6 Getting Ready, part 1 of 2

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Kirstie

First, Kirstie grew through some more ordinary and strange things. She had her house rebuilt, and the men were glad to do it because of her help in driving off the Vanlil invasion. One old man, Bjorn the Bear even volunteered to teach her how to use those weapons she carried. He was not much of a teacher. He mostly knew the long handled single blade battleaxe, and she got good with hers. Also, the old man drank too much. He said it was because he spent all those years at sea fighting the Angles, Saxons, Franks, Frisians, and so many people he could not name them all. One afternoon, in a moment of honesty, he said it was because he killed so many men. In his old age he imagined there were better ways for people to settle their differences without all that fighting and killing. So he drank. But Kirstie learned and became something of an expert with her battleaxe. In the end, since Bjorn the Bear had neither a wife nor children, Kirstie let him move into her rebuilt barn where he proceeded to drink himself to death. She wept when she buried the old man.

Meanwhile, she learned mostly from the elves who built a small enclave in the woods by the house. It was a place where Yrsa could live and be close. Buttercup had no interest in learning to fight. She attached herself to Inga, and the two of them learned from Mother Vrya, in particular how to heal the survivors after the men got done fighting. Yrsa, on the other hand, felt reluctant to learn about the weapons at first, but after the first month, she seemed to get into the whole idea. She even admitted that it felt like her life calling.

“It’s the endorphins,” Kirstie said.

“I am sure you would know,” Yrsa answered, and shot her arrow perfectly into the bullseye. “What are endorphins?”

“I’m not sure,” Kirstie answered honestly and shot her arrow a little off center. “But you got them.”

Kirstie started learning with Defender, her long knife. She found she had a second shorter but wider knife she called Cutter and learned with two knives for a while. Kirstie found the spear a bit awkward, and she did not have the upper body strength to throw a good javelin, but she told herself she needed to know these things in case the opportunity presented itself.

Kirstie turned twelve before her elf teacher allowed her to pick up her sword. She had to use two hands at first, but she worked out and got stronger. She tried just her right hand and eventually picked up her shield with her left hand. It was not too hard since she had been using her shield already in her axe lessons and gripping her axe with only her right hand. Just when Kirstie thought she was getting good with her sword, her teacher made her switch hands. Putting the shield in her right hand was not hard, though she needed to not use it like a club, but the sword in her left hand felt awkward.

“Your left hand used Cutter just fine,” her teacher said. “Salvation is simply a longer version of Cutter.”

“My head knows that.” Kirstie responded. “But my hand wants to act stupid.”

She eventually made an acceptable swordswoman with her left hand, and thank goodness, they went back to her right.

Yasmina

Yasmina wore a dress to ride. When she stood on the ground, it looked like an ordinary enough dress, but it had a slit front and back so when she sat on her horse, the dress would fall to the sides down to her stirrups. The dress had a hood and mask attached that covered her nose and mouth so only her eyes could be seen. She also had good solid boots on her feet. Al-Rahim said in the real world they did not always ride on smooth cobblestone courts.

Ahmed, al-Rahim’s sergeant in the harem guards taught her to ride. Her horse was a gentle beast that would never be used as a war horse. When it was younger, it helped train recruits, but now that it was old, it could not even do that. It could walk and trot with encouragement, but it could not really gallop, even with only a skinny little girl on its back.

Aisha, in a similar outfit, rode beside her. Aisha knew full well how to ride, and honestly, she spent most of their time on horseback making sure Yasmina did not fall out of her seat, at least at first. Yasmina got tired of going around and around the courtyard soon enough and complained about that almost from the beginning. Eventually, they got to go out the palace gate to a small field where they could at least trot along at some speed. That lasted for a while, but by the time Yasmina got ready to turn twelve, she began a new complaint.

“When can I have a real horse? I want to ride and feel the wind in my face. I want to ride like the Pony Express, like the cavalry coming to the rescue.” No one knew what she was talking about, but they got the general idea.

When they got down, Yasmina went straight for her bow. Aisha had a beautiful bow in her slip, her invisible, personal piece of the second heavens that followed her around and only she could access. She also knew how to use the bow. Yasmina got an acceptable bow with an easy draw. She aimed and exhaled before she fired. Aisha fired two arrows in the same time. The princess hit the second circle on the target. It hit low and to the left. Aisha’s arrows both struck dead center, or near enough.

“Endorphins,” Yasmina said with an accusatory look in Aisha’s direction.

“What are endorphins?”

“I have no idea, but you have them,” Yasmina answered. While she stared at Aisha with her deadpan face, she called the way Kirstie called. She became instantly clothed in her armor, and al-Rahim, who came from the side door yelled.

“Princess!”

Yasmina looked at herself. Her legs were partly exposed beneath the short skirt of her armor and her arms were completely exposed from her short sleeves. She had boots to just below her knees and fingerless gloves up to her elbows, but they were form fitting, so they showed her shape.

“Oops,” Yasmina said and since her armor had fairy weave properties, she could tell it to lengthen to cover her knees and give herself long sleeves. Then she called to the cloak of Athena and made it come together in front, leaving only slits front and back to be able to sit her horse. She raised her hood and caused the material to cover her mouth and nose. She went one step further when she made the outside of her cloak imitate the color of her riding dress.

“Let me see those weapons,” al-Rahim insisted.

Yasmina detached the front of her cloak with a thought, though the hood stayed up and her face remained veiled. She pulled a shield from her back. It was round but smaller than Kirstie’s being something like an old Roman cavalry shield. She pulled Defender, her long straight knife from her back, one perfectly weighted to throw. She left the scimitar at her side. It looked thin, but strong, like a saber, except it curved at the tip so it could slice anything, but it would not work as a stabbing weapon.

He rubbed his chin as he spoke. “We can begin by learning something about the knife when I get back with your mother from Jeddah.”

Yasmina opened her mouth. She was excited about learning to use her long knife but had to complain. “You are taking mother to the beach without me?”

“Princess. You better let me hold on to the sword for now,” he said, completely ignoring her complaint.

Yasmina looked at her scimitar. “Sword, go home,” she said, and the sword vanished.

Al-Rahim did not even blink. Aisha smiled and said, “She is learning many things.”

Kirstie

Captain Stenson and Frode came to see Kirstie when she turned twelve. “I’m not ready,” she yelled to them before they could come close. “Go back to sea for another practice run. I’ll be ready for the next trip.”

Once again, neither Rune nor Frode said anything. They simply turned and went back into the village.

In the village, Captain Kerga got elected chief. He limped a little for years and could not reasonably go back to sea. He arranged for Jarl to take his ship, young as the man was, but his men made no objection. Jarl the Younger had proved himself worthy on several occasions, and Kerga certainly put his trust in the man, so that was settled amicably.

Then Captain Harrold came home. He missed the Vanlil invasion, the death of Chief Birger, and everything. Tension filled the village as many feared Harrold might have wanted to take Chief Birger’s place. Mother Vrya spent two days in the big house with Kerga, Harrold, Jarl and several others who came and went. They brought in food. In the end, when the crowd was gathered outside the door, Harrold came out and said, “Kerga is Chief.” Then he turned from the crowd and went to his home by the sea. He stayed there, minding his own business, until the call of the sea got him to gather his crew and sail off into the sunset.

Medieval 5: K and Y 5 The Norwegian Hag, part 2 of 2

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Kirstie

As Kirstie squirted away from the men and ran toward the docks, she soon found a couple of fairies overhead and a couple of elves that ran with her. She ignored all of the fighting that went on around her. She hoped she would not come around a corner and find herself in the middle of it. Oddly enough, it never occurred to her to ask Elgar, or Diogenes or the Princess, or even better, the Nameless god to run for her. When she thought of Nameless, she got a clear picture of exactly where the hag was located and adjusted her run accordingly.

She arrived before an open space and saw the hag beside a building that saddled up to the water’s edge. Her men were hunkered down in and around the building, holding back the seventy from the ships that had come to shore. “It’s just a little old lady,” Kirstie said, surprised. One of the elves nodded as she pulled her long knife defender and looked at it closely, wondering how one kills a hag.

The hag started to yell but stopped suddenly. Kirstie saw the head turn and look in her direction. Then the hag began to change. The hag grew and became covered everywhere with hair. She ended up about seven feet tall and let out a roar that would have frightened a bear. Kirstie stepped from her place when she saw Frode and Rune with many men catching up. She stopped when she got struck by an arrow. It bounced off her chain mail, but it would leave a small bruise and she said, “Ouch.”

The fairies responded. That man did not live long, and in fact all the men on that side of the building either died or had to duck where they would be no threat. Kirstie just wondered what her elves were doing when she saw Chief Birger come racing up with some men in his trail. Those men from Strindlos attacked the building from the other side and took many of the hag’s defenders with them into death. Chief Birger attacked the hag and planted his bloodaxe directly in her chest. She scoffed and pulled it out.

“No weapon forged by men can hurt me,” she said, and with lightning speed, the monstrous hag crushed the chief and left his own axe in his own chest.

Kirstie looked again at Defender. She wondered if it would even make a scratch on such a beast. She knew her sword was too heavy for her even if it was not made by men. She did not know what to do.

The elves fired and three flaming arrows struck the hag in the chest. She roared. She felt those arrows not made by men, but then the flames spread, and the hag looked like she became even bigger and stronger. At eight feet, a ball of flame, she roared again in an even deeper, more powerful, and frightening sound.

“Look out!” the word came from over her shoulder. Vortesvin, the mountain troll rushed past her like a cannon ball. He was not quite as tall as the hag, but he was as wide. Kirstie wanted to shout, “No!” but she could not get her mouth to move as she watched, stunned. The hag swung an arm, and Kirstie knew that swing would take even the troll’s head right off, but the troll had ducked. It had no intention of fighting the hag. It tackled her instead, and while she shoved the troll away, she lost her balance and tipped straight back into the sea.

Kirstie heard the scream. It sounded like the old lady screaming as the fire that covered the beast went out all at once. Massive amounts of steam poured into the air, and Kirstie raced forward to see. The elves and fairies came with her to cover her. Frode and Rune and their men came behind, wary about getting too close to a mountain troll. Chief Birger’s men from Strindlos also came from the other side of the building, but carefully. They found the Vanlil stopped resisting and appeared to be willing to surrender.

Kirstie looked into the water’s edge. The monster had turned mostly back into the old lady, but she appeared to be melting. It would not take long for whatever melted hag remained to be carried out to sea and vanish in the deep. Kirstie looked up and saw Lord Amber there.

“Abraxas, son of Janus and Morrigu, born just before the dissolution of the gods, is the god of fire and water. He claims to be a god over good and evil, but no one has seen the good in him. The creature of Abraxas, the hag is empowered by the fire and water. Thus, she must be set on fire first, though it is a dangerous thing if there is no water handy because it makes her much bigger and stronger. The water that follows right away puts out the fire and breaks the bond of life in the creature. They end up melting as you see.”

Kirstie looked up and nodded. “Thank you very much. Thank Lord Bjork and Bellflower. Thank all the elves and fairies, and the dwarfs, though you might tell Booturn if you see him, I am thinking of having words with him.”

The five exiled men at the king’s house slept on the king’s ship, but the fifty Vanlil, not being sailors, camped on the ground around the burned house where they could keep their eye on the men camped in the king’s field. The dwarfs were told that any man who got to the ship should be allowed to surrender, so they moved in first to make a wall between the Vanlil and the ship so none could go there, then they proceeded to chop the Vanlil to pieces. The exiled men on the ship were presently cowering in the bow as far from the dock as they could get while the dwarfs taunted them, called them cowards, and told them to come to the dock so they could get their reward.

Kirstie shook her head and hugged Lord Amber briefly while she told him he better go. “And take that smelly mountain troll with you, please.”

Lord Amber smiled for her and faded from sight until the elves all vanished, taking Vortesvin with them. The fairies were already gone. The dwarfs eventually marched back to the mountains singing some strange marching song, and for nearly a decade after, people reported they could still hear the song echoing in the wilderness.

Mother Vrya caught up with Kirstie on the docks. She said now she had to go to work. Kirstie nodded and traded places with Mother Greta and said she would help, but when it came to the arrow in Kerga’s leg, she had to let Doctor Mishka take a turn. In fact, Doctor Mishka removed plenty of arrows that day, and Mother Vrya and Inga stood right there, looking over her shoulder, learning all they could.

When the day was done and Kirstie finally got to come home, she backed Captain Stenson and Frode into a corner. “Rune, you are no navigator, and Frode, you are a good skipari, but you are not any better as a navigator. My father taught me all there is to know about navigating the seas. I have all of his old charts and equipment and know how to use it. You take your new longship and go on your practice trading voyages, and when you get lost and have a hard time getting home, you come and see me. By then, I should be old enough and practiced enough with my weapons to sail with you and be your navigator. I’ll be ready when you are.” She harumphed at them and walked off without letting them object. They looked at each other and shook their heads, but that was what they did.

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MONDAY

Kirstie plans to sail off on an adventure with Rune and Frode, but first she needs to review her father’s notes on navigation, then she needs to learn to use those weapons she is carrying. Until Monday, Happy Reading

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