Medieval 6: K and Y 20 End and Beginning, part 1 of 2

December 10, 2024November 23, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Benches and tables had been turned over all around the big house. Chairs were broken and tables were moved every which way. Kirstie thought the big room was empty at first, but she heard a sound in the corner of the dais opposite the door and saw some movement behind a table.

“Hello?” she called.

Wilam went to the door, while Inga and Erik stared at the wreckage. “A battle?” Erik asked, not really knowing. Inga shrugged as if to say she did not know, but she added a thought.

“No bodies.”

Wilam wisely peeked before he opened the door. He saw armed men in the street and marketplace, and there appeared to be bodies outside. He shut the door carefully and returned to report to the others but found Kirstie up on the dais.

“Hello,” Kirstie said, pushing a turned over chair from her path.

“Kirstie?” the word came back, a girl’s voice.

“Hilda?” It sounded like her childhood friend. she helped move the table as Hilda stood from where she hid.” What happened?” Kirstie asked as she took her friend’s hand and helped her come to join the others. Hilda began to weep so her words came out in bits and pieces.

“Liv’s men from Varnes… The king’s men… Other men… Kare.” Hilda tried to sniff and pull her thoughts together when Inga reached out and held her. “They came to the house. Thoren took the boys to your house, to Yrsa and Lyall. He said he would get help, but I think he feared the men might be at your house. He told me to go to the Witcher Women across the way. He said I should be safe there.” She began to weep again in earnest. “The women were all dead… They killed Mother Vrya…”

Kirstie picked up the story for Wilam and Erik as Inga began to cry with Hilda. “I’m guessing they went to the Witcher Women before invading Hilda’s home. She probably ran here looking for a safe shelter when they gathered on the road to attack our house.” She reached out to touch Wilam’s arm while she fought her own tears.

“What about the men in town? Where is Chief Kerga? Where are the village elders and the captains and their crews? There are bodies outside, and armed men I don’t recognize in the streets.”

Kirstie nodded and sniffed herself. “The men are at sea or living in Nidaross. They may be the king’s men, but you know the king did not send them. You, me, and the king were fighting the Swedes just a month ago, and the good men of the Trondelag are probably still there, fighting. Kare probably recruited all around the fjord. Don’t be surprised if Bieger, Lind, and Gruden are around. As for Liv… I don’t know what to think. She was a strange one when we were growing up.”

“Liv,” Hilda interrupted. “Liv is here, and her men.”

Kirstie nodded. “She got more strange as the years went on. I don’t know how she became the owner and captain of her own ship.” Kirstie shook her head.

They heard the noise from the outside. It sounded like it was increasing in volume and intensity. Kirstie and Wilam had to look. The elves and fairies of the woods had arrived and were driving back the so-called king’s men. Kirstie saw that Booturn brought a whole company of dwarfs with him, and they were attacking with hammers and axes. Vortesvin ran at the men and the king’s men scattered and ran away from the big troll.

“In here. Quick,” they heard, and Kirstie shouted as she and Wilam closed and barred the door.

“Liv.” Kirstie spat at the door. “Inga, take Hilda to the storeroom and lock yourselves in. There is one window if you need to get out.”

Inga did not argue, but Hilda kept staring, open mouthed, and was slow to respond. Kirstie called for her armor and weapons and found a couple of additions to her ensemble. Yasmina’s small cavalry-shield and scimitar appeared in her hands. She quickly handed the small shield to Erik who stood beside Wilam. Wilam pulled his sword and grabbed a broken chair to serve as his shield. Erik still had the mace he took from the castle wall in Avalon.

Something banged on the front door, hard. Kirstie looked to be sure Inga and Hilda got out when a dozen men burst out of the storeroom. Kerga, Alm, and Thoren led the way. Then the front door got ripped off the hinges. A twelve-foot hag stepped into the room, ducking her head a bit under the ceiling. Plenty of men followed her.

“How can there be a hag?” Kirstie asked. “And one as big as the one in America which was six girls combined.”

The hag answered. “You killed my father!” It was Liv. Kirstie imagined she should have been more surprised, but somehow, she knew all along. She wondered instead how Liv could be a hag without the power of Abraxas behind her. Then she got too busy to think.

She dragged the scimitar across the throat of the man that came at her. It happened by reflex. She nearly cut the man’s head off. It was Lind. She mumbled, “Two for two,” and let go of the weapon. The scimitar vanished and her battleaxe flew to her hand.

Chief Kerga and two others went at the hag. Kirstie tried to yell, “No.” but it was too late. She tried to run and help, but the Liv-hag caught her with a backhand that sent her across the room. Her shield cracked, her arm broke, and her ribs caved in all from that one blow. She could only lay there and watch.

Wilam killed Bieger. Thoren, Alm, and the others drove the king’s men back outside, but then stayed near the door. They did not want the elves or dwarfs to mistake them for the enemy. Wilam stood out front knowing the little ones would recognize him and he could turn them away. Alm stood with him.

With the room mostly empty, Liv turned on the broken body of Kirstie at her feet. “You killed my father,” Liv repeated, and Kirstie thought with cool dispassion.

Of course. Liv is a demigod, daughter of the evil Abraxas. She thought of what both Grandfather Njord and Father Fryer said when they gave her the gifts of water and fire. It will be enough. She could only try.

Kirstie sat herself up, her back to the wall. She raised her good hand and poured the fire of the sun on the hag. She gave it every ounce of fire she had in her. The hag reveled in the flames and grew to eighteen, maybe twenty feet. Kirstie dispassionately thought this was the last gasp of the titans whose blood still ran in the gods of old.

Liv roared as she busted through the ceiling and roof of the big house. Great timbers came crashing down to the floor, and one wall busted free of the structure. She roared like the sound of a hundred lions. The building caught fire and it spread rapidly, but Kirstie could not help that. She simply opened her mouth.

A fountain of water flowed from her mouth. It quickly became a stream of water, and in the end a roaring river, more than the biggest firehoses combined. It completely covered the burning hag. In the future, Kirstie swore she heard a loud Snap or Crack when the glue that held the hag together busted altogether. Kirstie remembered the Grendel. She fully expected Liv would not melt exactly like the others. She would retain some of her size and shape, but she would surely be dead. It was enough.

Kirstie smiled, knowing that this was definitely the last. She looked around at the building and knew she did not have more water to put out the burning wood. The big house would burn rapidly to the ground with her in it. She did not mind. She felt certain she was dying.

She saw movement. It looked like a man with a sword at the ready. She recognized him when he got close and spat his name, though she could hardly talk. “Gruden.”

“Kairos,” he responded, and grinned. “The Masters have determined that if I can kill you before your time, that will disrupt your rebirths and end them. Then you will not be around to stand in the way of their plans, and they can ruin the world as they please.”

Kirstie shook her head. It did not work that way. The God who knows the end from the beginning would know ahead of time the precise moment of her death. That would be her proper time, no matter what the Masters did.

Gruden stepped up to her, sword in hand, pointed down at her middle. She did this once with Captain Ulf on the field below Lindisfarne, only that time she sat up and turned so Ulf missed her. Now, she could hardly move. Her entire left side felt numb.

Gruden looked ready to strike. Kirstie called for her long knife, Defender. The knife vacated its sheath and flew to her hand, so when Gruden came down with his sword and pierced her in the middle, her knife went up into the man’s chest, cutting him in the heart, using the man’s own motion toward her to make up for her failing strength.

Kirstie knew she would not survive the cut in her belly. She would soon bleed out her life. But Gruden’s eyes went wide with surprise when Defender cut him deeply. He fell and died quickly.

Wilam braved the flames and the collapsing big house. He found her readily enough. The sword fell out from the weight of the handle. It made the cut worse, but that hardly mattered. Wilam lifted her and carried her outside to lay her down gently.

Kirstie wanted to tell him she loved him. She wanted to say, sell the properties if you can, though she imagined the survivors would move to Nidaross and abandon Strindlos. Strindlos, without Chief Kerga and without Mother Vrya and without the meeting hall to designate the center of the village would become a ghost town, like the village never existed. She wanted to tell him to take the children to Northumbria to his family and live there, but she could not breathe. Her lungs were punctured and collapsed, so she opted just to kiss him until she passed out.

Medieval 6: K and Y 19 To Abraxas, part 2 of 2

December 9, 2024October 1, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

“You evaded my traps much too easily. I felt sure the dragons would devour you right at the beginning.”

“Dragons are smarter than you think. They will not bite the hand that feeds them.”

Abraxas squinted at her. “I did not know you could move from place to place here like one of the gods.”

“There is much you do not know about this place.”

“I know I have shut down your access to other lives. You cannot call on one of your godly lives to challenge me. It is just mortal you in this place.”

“But this is my place, and you have no business being here.”

He whined and his face contorted with anger. “You shut down the rest of my options. I was all set to go to a completely different world on the other side of the earth. I wouldn’t have bothered you. I had followers. But no, you killed them. You went all the way there and killed them. This place is all I have left.”

“Now is your chance to let go and go over to the other side.”

“No!” He sounded like a three-year-old. And he screeched. “You don’t know what that means. The gods are immortal. I haven’t had a chance to live. I’m not finished. I’m not ready.”

“Now,” Kirstie thought and said out loud.

“You mortals cannot hurt me. Your weapons cannot hurt me.” He yelled, but as he spoke he got pelted with keyboards, wires, and all kinds of equipment from overhead. Cassandra shot her arrow and scooted behind a desk chair. Inga threw her vial which burst and filled the room with smoke and a noxious smell. Wilam and Brant, now behind him, yelled a war cry like they were ready to attack him with their swords.

Abraxas threw his hands forward and made Cassandra and Inga push back to the wall. The force drove Erik right back into the hall, but Kirstie ducked. He threw his hands up and scattered the elves that were bombing him with equipment from the skylight above. He spun around, angry at the annoyance and shot a poison spell at Wilam, but Brant jumped in front, so he caught the full spell.

When Abraxas turned back around, he found Kirstie in his face and her battleaxe cut deeply across his middle. She cut deeper into his side on her backswing and the axe caught in his ribs. He looked down as his life began to quickly bleed out and he looked like he did not understand. “But no mortal weapon can harm me.”

“Made by the dwarfs Eitri and Brokkr under the blessing of Odin himself,” she responded, as her long knife Defender vacated its sheath and flew to her hand. “The others were just distracting you.” She shoved the knife in the heart of the god and Abraxas collapsed, still not comprehending what happened. “Made by the dark elves in Mount Etna under Vulcan’s watchful eye.” Kirstie held her hand out and the long knife vacated Abraxas’ chest, pulling a piece of his heart with it. “And I have been counted among the gods from the beginning, even when I am strictly a mortal nobody.”

“But…” it was Abraxas’ last word.

Kirstie stood while Abraxas died, or as they say, went over to the other side. Everyone else stayed on their knees, gagging for their breath, not the least because of Inga’s stink bomb. They rubbed their sore muscles, looked for cuts, and examined their bruises. They all turned their heads to the door when they heard a clinking-clanking sound.

A knight dressed head to toe in plate armor such as had not yet been invented stepped into the room. He said nothing but went straight to Abraxas and lifted the body off the floor. He easily slung the skinny dead god over his shoulder, turned, and exited the room to disappear down the hall. Inga, Cassandra, and Erik all spoke at once.

“Who was that? What was that? Where did he come from? Where did he go?”

“A Knight of the Lance,” Kirstie said as she sat at a desk and began furiously poking at the flat box with the letters and symbols on it.

Brant collapsed and moaned. Wilam held up his head and Brant smiled for him. Inga ran as much a she could. She got down beside him to examine him. She found some tears in her eyes and turned to Kirstie.

“I don’t know what it is. There is no wound. He is growing cold.”

Kirstie paused and got down with the others. She traded places with Mother Greta because she could do that again, now that the source of the pressure that closed off her personal timeline was removed. Mother Greta had little magic, but one thing she could do was diagnose internal problems much easier than Doctor Mishka who would have to draw a blood sample to analyze. It did not take long.

“Sorcerer’s poison,” she said, and shook her head as if to say there was nothing she could do.

“He obviously meant it for me,” Wilam said. “But Brant got in the way.”

“He wanted to hurt Kirstie as much as he could,” Greta said before she went away, and Kirstie came back to finish the thought. “That is the way an evil mind works. Abraxas claimed to be a god over good and evil, but no one ever saw the good in him.”

Brant struggled to talk. He looked at Inga and whispered through uncooperative lips and tongue. “It is what we do.” He tried to turn to Wilam, but all he could turn was his eyes. “I’ve been watching out for you since you were a baby. Give me this one.” He looked again at Inga, and she bent over him, eyes full of tears, and planted her lips on his. He closed his eyes, and after a moment he turned cold, and Inga pulled back from his lips and cried on him.

Kirstie and Wilam cried with her, but eventually, Kirstie got up and went back to her workstation. She traded places with Alice of Avalon because Alice was the one who set it all up in the first place. She would correct whatever was amiss. And while she grieved for Brant, as any life of the Kairos would, she did not feel the immediate sting as certainly as Kirstie.

Erik and Cassandra stood by the door. The elves that escaped to the roof when Abraxas came and pelted him with electronics when the time was right, came first. They worked in the control room and quickly returned to their stations to help. They acknowledged Erik and Cassandra as they came in. Erik smiled, remembering the elves he met the last time he, Inga, and Kirstie visited Avalon. Cassandra looked more astonished and inclined to bow her head to the people of legend and look down like one who felt unworthy.

Erik questioned her, and she answered forthrightly. “The Amazons have always seen the little ones as a sign of good fortune and great blessing.” Erik understood .and pointed down the hall.

A delegation of little ones came toward the control room. It looked like the kings and queens of the dais—the elves of light and dark, the dwarfs, and the fairies, with their attendants. It also looked like the lesser gods who called Avalon home; the Naiad of the spring that burst from the rocks beside the great tower that housed the Heart of Time, the Dryad of the deep forest that began at the back of the castle and climbed all the way up the distant mountains, and the oread of the mountains themselves that kept Avalon and the many isles grounded in reality. Erik had to keep Cassandra from falling to her knees.

Alice came to the door. “Welcome friends. All is settled. The evil one who disturbed your peace is no more. He has gone to the other side. But we lost a man in the struggle. He was a great man and should be treated and buried in all honor and respect. Please take him and prepare him.”

Several attendants broke from the group and waited patiently until Inga indicated they could take Brant’s body away.

Brant was buried in the cemetery near the tower of the Heart of Time, and the others stayed three days in the castle. When the time came to go home, Kirstie first sent Cassandra back to the Isle of the Amazons. The others gathered in the Great Hall beside the Hall of Feasting.

“We cannot go back to Aesgard, or to Freyja’s Hall in the place of the Vanir. Our route is simpler, and direct. She waved her hand as she did many times by then, and a door appeared between here and there. The little ones all waved goodbye and said encouraging words, though Inga and Wilam seemed barely able to smile.

When Kirstie opened the door, she found the Big House back home on the other side, but something did not feel right. The place was empty, though it was the middle of the day, and she saw signs of violence in the big room.

Medieval 6: K and Y 19 To Abraxas, part 1 of 2

December 4, 2024October 1, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

The room was similar to the one they came from. Kirstie went straight to the end opposite the fireplace, and she sat down at the table where she pulled up a screen of some sort, and a keyboard. She went to work, mumbling something about how it would be much easier if she could get Alice to do it, but somehow her access to her other lives was shut down.

Erik wandered to the windows without glass. He looked out on the garden, but it appeared planted in the clouds. “Is there dirt under that? It doesn’t look like there is any dirt under that. It looks like if you step out there you will fall straight through the clouds to the earth.”

“The castle in the clouds,” Casandra called it, as Inga, Brant, and Wilam came to take in the view. Casandra continued. “As I understand it, there are four castles, but they are all one castle, and a person can transition…” she shook her head, like she was not sure if that was the right word. “A person can change from one castle to another if they know how. The castle of the Lady Danna is in a great cavern underground. It is where the dark elves and fire sprites live and work their great metal forges, and where the dwarfs work in gold and precious stones. That was the first place we changed to. The castle of the Lady Amphitrite is under the ocean, and the water sprites and mere people and others live there and guard the ways of the sea. That was the second place. The castle of the Nameless one is on the land such as people know, and the elves of light, the dwarfs and fairies keep it. That was where we started. Then the castle of Amun Junior is in the clouds where the sprites of the air and mostly the fairies keep watch over the earth. That is where we are now, in the clouds.

“And… Enter,” Kirstie said and hit the button. Everyone heard a prolonged wail not far away. The glass appeared on the windows and the ground looked solid outside. “I gave him an electrical shock and locked him out of the system, hopefully permanently. He can’t pull any more surprises unless he wants to be electrocuted.

“Would that kill him? Electrocuted, whatever that means,” Inga asked.

“No, but it certainly would not feel good. This way,” Kirstie said, and she opened the same door they just came in, but it led to a completely different hall. She felt this time that she finally had to explain something. “Space, I mean area or areas in the Second Heavens are naturally unstable. Areas fold in and back on themselves in ever changing ways, something like a kaleidoscope.” she waved her hands to prevent questions as they walked. “You don’t know what a kaleidoscope is. Anyway, you can walk down one hall, blink, and find yourself in a completely different part of the castle altogether.”

“Someone could get lost in here and never find the way out,” Brant said.

“It is a bit like a labyrinth,” Inga agreed with him. “Maybe a maze.”

Kirstie responded. “Normally, there are people here and there, working, playing, or going on about some errand or other. You would not wander aimlessly and alone for very long before running into someone.” She shook her head as they turned into a different hall. “I am a little concerned to know where they people have all gone.”

“By people, you mean little ones mostly,” Wilam guessed. Kirstie nodded and took his hand.

“Aah!” Erik shouted, and everyone stopped moving and asked, “What?”

“That picture,” Erik pointed to a hallway off to the right. It looked dark, like no one lit the torches in that hall. Erik breathed and clarified. “I was looking at a picture of the sea. It looked real. I thought the waves were moving, and suddenly it vanished.”

“The picture?” Cassandra asked. She had been keeping one eye on the boy since he almost went out the window and the others seemed preoccupied with their men.

“No,” Erik said. “The whole wall. It turned swirly, all different colors, and some colors like I never saw before. I felt dizzy, but then it stopped moving around and a hall appeared where the wall had been.”

“The natural chaos of the Second Heavens,” Kirstie said softly.

Inga understood something. “If everything is becoming unstable, might he make us walk in circles and never find him?”

Kirstie shook her head to say no. “Usually, Alice and the Captain keep the structures stable, but Alice is ill, and the sicker she becomes, the more things slip out of her control and begin to break down. Avalon and the seven isles and the innumerable islands beyond are in danger of breaking apart and collapsing into the natural chaos that is the Second Heavens. But I believe I have stabilized this section of the castle for the time being… Mostly… Hurry.”

It did not take long to reach a dead end where the hall went left and right but they could no longer go forward. Kirstie stopped and stared at the big, blank wall directly ahead of them. She waved her hand. Nothing happened. She looked angry and stomped her foot, but after a moment, she deliberately calmed herself, took a deep breath, and waved her hand again. Slowly, great wooden double doors appeared in that place, and she talked, perhaps some to herself.

“He tried to keep the entrance closed and covered, but Avalon is my place, and I have the final say here.” She waved to Brant and Wilam who each took a door handle. They planned to swing the doors wide open at once when Kirstie was ready.

When Kirstie indicated she was ready, they yanked on the doors. They were locked tight. Wilam gave an extra tug, but it was no good. The doors did not even jiggle.

Kirstie made them stand back, and she tried the hand wave again, several times, but the doors would not budge. She felt frustrated, but clearly Abraxas used some exercise of his own godly power to seal the doors shut so he would not be disturbed. Again, she spoke mostly to herself, though this time she looked at Inga.

“The gods can do almost anything they want, and some of it is as easy as breathing. But much of it has to be learned and practiced, like learning to read or learning to sail. Some of it is beyond the ability of some or many of the gods to learn, like most people would not be good at navigation, or making compound medicines, or higher mathematics, or control programming.” She gave the doors a mean stare. “Abraxas was very young when the gods went over to the other side. He did not have the time or the chance to learn much. He is mostly self-taught on the few things he can do. But one thing he knows less about, and it was sort of a weakness of all the ancient gods, is the kind of brute force humans sometimes have to revert to. The gods have no need for crowbars.”

With that, she raised both of her hands and shouted, “Get back and close your eyes. Tight.” She let the fire given to her by Fryer, god of the sun, shoot forward furiously. The wooden doors turned to ash and the metal braces and hinges all melted. Kirstie grabbed her battleaxe and shield from her back. Following her lead, Wilam and Brant both pulled their swords and Cassandra put an arrow on the string of her bow. Inga grabbed a vial of something she had in her purse. Erik looked around and grabbed a decoration off the wall. He did not know what it was, but it had a wooden handle and a ball on the end covered in spikes, and it looked deadly.

They hurried into the room and found a man, alone, standing in the middle of the room. Behind him, one whole wall looked like glass, but it had moving pictures all around. To the sides there were desks and chairs with their own glass with moving pictures and flat boxes on the desk with letters and symbols on them. The man laughed at his intruders and shook his finger at Kirstie. Cassandra and Inga came up alongside Kirstie. Erik stayed behind her. William and Brant split and moved to get behind the man as the man spoke.

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

MONDAY

They reach the control room where Abraxas is hold up… Until Monday, Happy Reading

Medieval 6: K and Y 18 Aesgard to Avalon, part 2 of 2

December 3, 2024October 1, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

The cave disappeared, and they found themselves in a room, much like the meeting room in the big house in Strindlos. The room had wooden benches, a couple of tables, and a raised platform on one end with a couple of chairs, presumably for the chiefs. Fortunately, no one appeared to be present at the moment.

“Everyone here?” Inga asked, because somehow she lost hold of Erik, but all were present. Erik managed to squeeze himself between Wilam and Brant when the chittering started behind them.

Erik asked, “What was that chittering?”

“Dragon babies,” Kirstie said offhandedly. “Not something to get tangled with. Really sharp teeth.” Kirstie seemed to be focused on the lines again as they appeared in mid-air.

“Looks like home,” Wilam said, looking around.

“Except it looks clean,” Inga countered. “The floor has been swept.”

Brant supported Inga. “They have picked flowers in vases on small tables by the windows off to the sides and on the altar at the back of the dais.

“And it does not smell like too much beer and sweat,” Inga concluded.

“We have been here before,” Erik added his own conclusion, which got Inga to take a second look around.

“Not here, exactly,” Kirstie said, and she touched something in the air that caused the lines to temporarily disappear.. “This is Amazon Island. The Amazon women control all this land.” She looked at Wilam and added, “I hit the reset button,” even if he did not know what she was talking about. “The transport program should reset to the default settings.”

The door opened at the far end of the hall, and a handful of armed women came in to welcome, or maybe confront their visitors. The women stopped by the door and one asked, “Who are you and what do you want?”

Kirstie quickly stepped in front of Wilam, and Inga took the hint and stepped in front of Brant. She had to shift her bag to the other arm to do it. Erik still stood between the two men, but Kirstie figured he would be fine. At seventeen, he still looked mostly like a boy. “Kirstie,” she said. “Kairos of this present time. And Thriacia, why have you let Abraxas come into this place?”

The women pulled up. The two with spears raised them from their threatening position and backed to the door, like guards. The one on the left and the one on the right both looked at the one in the middle, no doubt Thriacia. Thriacia looked startled. “Lady,” she said. “Why have you let men into the sanctuary?”

“Women sit in the meeting house back home. Men are allowed here as long as they sit to the side and only speak when they have permission.” Kirstie returned to playing with the lights in mid-air. Wilam, Brant, Inga, and Erik had no idea what she was doing, or how she could cause lights to appear in the middle of the air, though Inga maybe guessed the closest. The Amazons looked like they were equally unsure how Kirstie was doing what she was doing, or even what exactly she was doing.

“But…” Thriacia started again.

The woman on the left interrupted, speaking to the question. “We did not let Abraxas come here. We could not exactly stop him. The evil one has done much damage while we have awaited your arrival. Lady Alice is stymied and can hardly hold things together.”

The one on the right added softly, “She may be ill.” Thriacia nodded and pointed to the woman, like she spoke the truth.

“May I ask,” Brant said in his formal best. “Where is this evil one and how can we reach him?”

Thriacia and the women looked hard at the man for speaking out of turn, but Thriacia softened after a moment of reflection. “You may ask, though it would be better if you let your woman speak for you. As for the enemy, my report, as the mermaids who cannot shut up tell it, they heard from the elves that the man is in the castle on Avalon proper and he has found his way to the main control room where he is trying to puzzle out the, um, programming?” She looked at Kirstie who nodded to say she used the right word.

“How…” Wilam began, but Kirstie stomped on his foot. Fortunately, Inga caught the idea and spoke.

“How do we get there from here?”

“I am the queen here,” Thriacia said and pointed to the quiet one, “My healer, Lydia.” She pointed to the one who answered the question. “My hunter, Cassandra, and you are?”

“Inga, volva of Strindlos and the Trondelag, and skald of the Norse people.”

“The wise woman of the Norse is welcome here, but the way to the castle is a journey. Cassandra can guide you.”

Cassandra nodded. “I need to see to my son and kiss my husband and I will be ready,” she said, and Lydia leaned over to speak.

“You are always ready,” she said in her soft voice. “It is annoying.”

“No need,” Kirstie said all of a sudden. “The teleport is back online. I better use it before Moron messes it up again. Hold hands.” Kirstie took Wilam’s hand and Cassandra rushed forward to grab Inga’s hand just before Kirstie touched the line. Once again, the whole room around them changed to a completely different room.

Kirstie put her hands up, but this time the light did not come. “Well,” she said, “At least we are in Castle Turning. Let us hope he hasn’t figured out how to turn the place.” She stopped and looked around at the new hall they were in. It looked long and narrow with a fireplace at one end and a table and chairs on a platform at the other end. One wall was lined with alternating bookshelves and tapestries. The other had windows with some sort of glass that looked out on a balcony and over to a lovely garden area.

“Cassandra?” Inga asked, wanting to get the name straight.

Kirstie let out a small laugh. “Aren’t you afraid the Princess will be mad at you for using her name, the name she hates?”

“Lady,” Cassandra spoke to the point. “Don’t start that argument all over again. The Amazons took a vote and approved Cassandra and Lydia and other names of yours, and the Princess already said she did not mind other people having the name, she just could not stand it for herself.”

“But if it is her name…” Brant was not sure how to ask the question, he never met the Princess and only saw her at a distance, and only knew her as Princess.

“She gets mad if we call her Cassandra. She goes by the name, Princess.”

Brant nodded and Inga interrupted with a comment. “We have been here before. This is Avalon.”

“I thought I recognized the garden,” Erik said as he stared out of the windows.

Kirstie nodded. “The hall of feasting is to the right. It has some windows that look down on the same garden.”

“Which way do we go?” Wilam asked.

“We go the opposite direction. There are several passages we need to navigate to get to the control room.” She headed toward a door between two tapestries, and the others followed. It seemed wide and tall but otherwise an ordinary enough hallway at first, with the occasional table with flowers, wall decorations, including a few paintings and more tapestries, and a few windows to the outside world near the occasional doors that led to some room or other. Now and then another hallway went off to the left or right, and twice they passed a crossroads.

“This is much further than I would have guessed,” Wilam finally said.

“This fortress must be bigger than any on earth,” Brant agreed.

“Endless,” Erik said, dredging up the memory from what the dwarfs told him.

“Don’t believe everything the dwarfs say,” Kirstie mused, and held her mouth while she walked. She got an impression from some elves in and around the control room. It came on her private wavelength, like a prayer to the goddess of the little ones. It was one place—one form of communication Abraxas could not tap into. They said they were in a position to distract the god when she was ready. Before she could answer the light dimmed, like the torches lost some of their flare, and every other torch disappeared altogether. “Oh no,” Kirstie said out loud and picked up her pace.

The air turned toxic. Inga, Cassandra, and Erik began to cough. Wilam held his nose and said, “Smells like your foundry.”

Kirstie shouted. “Hold your breath.” and touched something on the wall.

Everyone tried their best as they found themselves suddenly underwater. The hall looked the same, though the torches were missing. Instead, they had skylights on the ceiling to let in light from some source, maybe the sun, and they had to swim, though they could walk or bob slowly through the water.

Kirstie was not bothered because of the gift of Njord. She could breathe underwater after a fashion, but she feared if it went on too long for her friends, they might all drown. Fortunately, she found another spot on the wall and the hallway changed again, and while most coughed and tried to catch their breath, they got pushed by a great wind that came rushing down the hall. Erik was too close to a window that did not have any glass in it. He almost got blown out. Inga and Cassandra grabbed the boy and looked down.

“It is nothing but clouds beneath us,” Inga shouted to be heard above the howl of the wind.

“In here,” Kirstie said, and she opened the door and shoved Wilam into the room. When they all got inside, Wilam had to help her close the door, but when the door was closed, everything became still.

Medieval 6: K and Y 18 Aesgard to Avalon, part 1 of 2

December 2, 2024October 1, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Wilam opened the simple latch door and peeked. Kirstie pushed up to look over his shoulder. A hearth across the room held a roaring fire. Everyone suddenly felt the cold on their backs as the fire helped them feel toasty and warm in front. One old man sat in a comfortable chair facing the fire, a bowl of soup held up to his chin with one hand, and he sipped the soup with a big spoon. He spoke.

“Come in my daughter, and friends. Come in.” He even sounded old.

Wilam and Kirstie pushed in so the others could follow. Wilam and Brant looked around. The room was much bigger than they imagined from the outside. Inga and Kirstie looked at the fire, the several chairs that faced it, and the old man. There did not appear to be anything else in the room. Erik said “Wow,” softly, but did not otherwise know what to think.

“Come. Sit. Warm yourselves,” the old man said.

Kirstie pushed forward, so the others followed, and she was the first to speak to the man. “I expected this whole place to be deserted,” she said.

“Eh?” The man responded like he did not hear, but he followed up with a word. “It would have been. It should have been, but I stayed at the last minute. Someone needed to keep the fires burning for a while longer.” He set the soup down on a side table beside his chair and turned his head to take a good look at his visitors. He named them after a fashion.

The husband with the impossible legacy. The skipper who needs to captain his own ship. The brilliant and understanding heart who is a witch without magic. The rebellious, runaway boy whose parents could use his help. And my son who at present happens to be my daughter.” He looked at Kirstie and squinted a bit like maybe his old eyes were not very good. “That is what your mother used to call you.”

Kirstie looked again and saw the missing hand. It was possible he made an illusion of being two handed until she figured it out, though he practically told her who he was. “But Father,” she said, taking the seat next to his. “How is it that you have gotten old?”

“Idon has gone. The apples of youth are not tended.” he smiled and shook his head. “That is not entirely true, but it is what people have been told. To be clear, it is one thing I never experienced before.” he paused long enough to turn to the fire. “I see getting old is not fun.”

Kirstie sneezed again and shivered, which contrasted with the others who were well warmed in the face of the great fire. Wilam asked again if she was all right, and Inga seconded that question, but Kirstie answered in a straightforward way. “No. I’m sick. I’m cold. I feel as if someone is walking on my grave, which is odd because I have a hundred graves, but I am not dead yet.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Erik said. No one else interrupted, and as was her way, Kirstie did not explain.

The old man sat for a minute and stared at the fire. “Your Abraxas came here as I knew he must.”

Kirstie looked at the floor. “Three times I let him live, and three times he failed to do the right thing.”

“The right thing?” he asked. “I suppose,” he answered himself and turned to look at her again. “It took him years to discern your mother’s secret way between her home and your home in Avalon. Sometimes, she would disappear and go to visit all the little ones who loved her so dearly, and Lady Alice who keeps Avalon from crumbling to dust. She always came home refreshed and ready once again to take on her burden of humanity.” He got lost for a moment in some memories and she had to nudge him.

“He found the way?”

“Yes. A portal between one world and another. Yes. Then he attacked your son Soren with a debilitating disease, and while I was preoccupied with concern for the boy, he snuck past me and into your realm. He had in mind to attack you with the disease, but I chased him and drove him back out of your place. I have watched the way ever since, but in my old age, the time came when I slept. Such dreams I had. But he escaped my hand and went again to Avalon. That was several months ago, but now you are here, and you can stop him if you will.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Kirstie admitted her fears.

The old man finally smiled. “Just do your best. That is what you always say to others. The gods do not make promises, but we may pledge to do our best and leave the outcome in hands greater than our own.” he reached over to take her hand but ended up putting his good hand on her head. “Let me do this for you,” he said, and he gave her a gift, part of which was courage.”

“Father… Where is this way?” Kirstie felt the tears coming up into her eyes to see the man in such a condition, old and with trembling hands. She had to say something to distract herself.

“Right here,” he said. “You must walk through the fire.” he pointed at the fireplace. “But since you are not of the gods, since you are flesh and blood, you must first put out the fire. Just be warned. If you put out the fire, this realm will crumble away, and I will be no more. You will not be able to come back this way.”

Kirstie protested. “That is not fair.”

“That is the way it is,” he responded. “My life has been over for a long time. You will merely send me to your mother. Did she not ask this of you?”

Kirstie nodded, before she threw her arms around the old man. She hugged him gently because he was old, and she cried all over him until he pushed her away and she wiped her teary eyes. “I’m ready,” she said, and added, “Hold hands,” because she was not sure exactly what might happen.

“Thank God,” he responded and closed his eyes.

Kirstie took Wilam’s hand without looking back, turned to the fire, and searched for the gift of Njord inside of her. She opened her mouth, and a river of water came and put out the fire. As the fire went out, the room became utterly dark, as dark as a cave where no light ever penetrated. Kirstie stepped forward, and on the third step she seemed to see a light in the distance, or her eyes started paying tricks on her. After a few more steps it became a definite light ahead. She tried not to hurry but let them get there in good order. She saw then that the light appeared to be at the end of something like a cave or tunnel.

When they reached the light, she had a bad feeling and asked the others to stop and wait. She thought she recognized the place, and it did not look right to her. She could see mountains and fire, like volcanic maybe in the distance. She stuck her head out into the sunlight and immediately pulled it back. Tremendous flames came from somewhere above and covered the whole outside of the cave opening. They heard a roar.

“Dragon Island,” Kirstie said. “That is not right.” She lifted her hand, and something appeared on the cave wall. “Mother Freyja did not set her portal to come out on Dragon Island.” She pushed her hand up again and again as lines of some writing appeared to shimmer against the wall.

“There is something behind us,” Erik said. They all heard the chittering sound and Kirstie had to quickly choose.

“He has the whole program messed up,” Kirstie complained. “He doesn’t know how to use it. Moron.” The chittering grew louder. “Damn. Not the best choice. Hold hands again,” she yelled the last and grabbed Wilam’s hand as she touched a line of writing on the wall. Everything around them changed in less than a second.

Medieval 6: K and Y 17 The Rainbow, part 1 of 2

November 26, 2024October 1, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

The next morning, Kirstie did not feel a great deal better. She tried to shrug it off, but her heart and head knew there was more to it than that. The excited cries and shouting in the far distance woke her. She wondered if they caught the murderer. Poor Father Damien. He worked tirelessly to bring the good news to her pagan people. He seemed to be making some real headway in Nidaross and up on the Frosta Peninsula, but then he got found three days ago by the Varnes River, shredded to pieces. Some said a bear did it, but others whispered the word Hag. Kirstie thought it could not be a hag. Abraxas, the would-be-god, and hag maker was banished to the second heavens and not allowed again on the earth. It had to be something else, but what?

The shouts came again all the way from the village. She recognized that sometimes, in the right weather conditions, the sound would echo off the mountains around the fjord. Still, this was shouting and loud. She could not imagine Strindlos making all that fuss over a sail on the horizon. Old Captain Olaf was expected. She imagined it was him coming from his stop in Nidaross. She sat up with hope. Wilam stood by the window and tossed Kirstie her dress. “Hurry,” he said. “They are coming this way.”

Kirstie took a moment to reflect. That much sound coming all the way from the village suggested something more, like maybe fighting. She stood and rejected the dress. She called to her armor back and it arrived, but with the weapons all detached. She grumped and had to attach everything by hand. She just got all the blades and accoutrements exactly where she wanted them when she heard a knock on the door.

“Kirstie.” Thoren, Kare’s friend called. “You, too, Halfdan.” He called Wilam. “The council wants to see you.” Kirstie let him finish speaking before she opened the door. Inga came with Thoren, but quietly stood a step behind. She would not look up. Kirstie sneezed.

“You didn’t sail with Frode?” Kirstie asked.

Thoren shook his head. “We had a falling out. Mostly, I was not willing to move Hilda and the family to Nidaros.”

Kirstie understood. She deliberately took Wilam’s hand. “I’m ready,” she said. “Did they catch the murderer? Is there more trouble looming around on the horizon?”

Thoren laughed. “Captain Harrold asked, what murder? Does another dead Christian count?”

“Yes,” Kirstie said firmly and hit Thoren in the arm hard enough to be sure he felt it. He stopped laughing.

“A shame on our homes and hospitality.” Inga finally spoke.

“You’re right,” Thoren admitted. “But no murderers caught. It’s the bow,” he said, and then he said no more.

Kirstie did not ask.

When they arrived, Mother Vrya met them at the door and led Kirstie away from Wilam and the men, or maybe Kirstie led the crippled old woman to a seat. Captain Olaf sat there along with the captains Jarl, Harrold, Frode, and Kerga the Chief. Kirstie turned to get Inga’s attention and only then noticed Inga had moved away.

“This is foolish,” Jarl said and pointed to the rainbow clearly visible in the middle of the room. “It is a mirage, such as one sometimes sees when at sea. I can walk right through it.” He did, and Kirstie noticed the rainbow came down through the roof and shot to the floor.

“What need have we to hear from the women?” Frode wondered with a glance at Kirstie.

“I have said Inga may tell what she knows.” Kerga said, gruffly. Kirstie caught the chief looking at Mother Vrya and her slight nod in agreement.

“And I have said I will listen.” Harrold growled. “Sit down, Jarl.”

The captain sat. Brant Svenson said nothing since everyone knew of his closeness with Inga. Likewise, Olaf, now with Wilam beside him, knew it was not his village and not his turn to speak. Behind the Northumbrians, Kirstie saw Hilda and Thoren’s Erik at the front of the crowd of witnesses. Erik, seventeen-year-old, newly married, and newly accepted by Frode for a spot on Frode’s ship pulled up a spot right behind Wilam as Inga stepped up to speak.

“It was the year the Vanlil came, and the Hag drove them to war. I was eighteen, and my young charge was ten and a handful. Kirstie’s parents were already killed, but she did not know her father was also gone, and so we used to sit along the south beach as she looked for signs of a sail. I remember the day as if it was today. We were always searching the horizon and so we did not notice the boiling of the sea which began at our very feet. Soon, however, the boiling of the sea became violent in that one small place before us. Then, to my shock and near death at the sight, Njord himself rose from the waters, larger than this big house and more awesome than all the men of Valhalla put in one place.”

“Nonsense!” Jarl began, but Harrold slugged him. Harrold liked a good story, even if he did not believe a word of it.

“Kairos.” Njord spoke to the girl as you might speak to a good friend not seen in years. “Traveler.”

“Once Grandfather,” Kirstie responded with the slightest bow as if the Lord of the Seas himself deserved no more. “But why are you here? Did you not cross over with the others, ages ago?”

“More than eight hundred years ago,” the Great God spoke.

“Yes, and Old One Eye wasn’t too happy about it, I bet.”

“Frigg had to drag him,” The god said, and young Kirstie giggled. I tell you, she laughed. I did not know what to think.

Kirstie felt beet red at the moment, and surprised that Mother Vrya was not appalled at the flippant way she spoke to the god and referred to the King of the Gods as Old One Eye. Certainly, the others in the room looked appalled.

“But what are you doing here?” Kirstie continued.

“Where the Waters are, my Spirit will always linger and never be far away,” Njord spoke again. “But I am not really here. I am just reacting to the fire still loose in the world that is seeking to harm my grandson, though at the present you happen to be my granddaughter.”

“I don’t understand,” Kirstie admitted. I remind you; she was only ten.

“Just open your mouth and close your eyes and you will get a big surprise.” Njord said, and she did, trusting him with a complete trust. Then I saw the Great God change into a mighty river, then a roaring stream, and last a gentle fountain of water that filled Kirstie, entering her mouth, and vanishing away.

“The girl seemed the same after that day, but in some ways, she was also subtly changed. You know how she swims, and the cold of the waters do not harm her. You know how the fish always come when she casts her line, and how she knows the storms at sea before their time.”

“A fantasy!” Jarl interrupted.

“A fanciful tale.” Harrold agreed. “But what of the truth?”

“It is true.” Kerga astonished everyone. The room became completely still. “The good Mother Vrya and I were not far from that very spot on that day. I would even say that was a very plain telling. The truth, Harrold, was far more frightening and hard to believe even when seeing and hearing it with my own eyes and ears.”

Several people looked at Mother Vrya, but all she could do was nod her assent to what Kerga said.

“But Lord.” Inga struggled to regain the floor. “There is more.” The quiet came slowly. “I did not understand the references to Grandfather, Grandson, and Granddaughter when the words were spoken. All these years I kept those mysteries in my heart. But now, after the events of the evening when Father McAndrews came to us in peace and we brought shame on ourselves in his murder, events which I suddenly remembered in great detail when his young companion, Father Damien was most recently slain, I begin to understand. It was not Elgar the Saxon, or Mother Greta, or the good doctor, but one we have not met. My heart keeper, the beautiful Fryja was his mother, wasn’t she?” Inga and all eyes turned suddenly toward Kirstie. Where she had been embarrassed and then felt very uncomfortable. Now she felt mortified. She could not even look up.

“More than two thousand years ago,” She mumbled in utter softness.

The crowd began to make noise again, but somehow Thoren stood and said, “Wait. There is more.” He shouted in echo of Inga’s words, “There is more,” and the people quieted to hear.

Medieval 6: K and Y 13 To the New World, part 1 of 3

October 30, 2024September 29, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

The storm came quickly. Kirstie, who was presently tuned into the sprites of the water and the air got the impression that the ship stayed on the edge of the storm. The wind and waves pushed them toward North America as it slowly turned to swipe the southern point of Greenland. The water sprites made something like a stream in the sea that kept them moving in the right direction, though it was hard to tell given the way they went up great hills of water and zoomed down the other side. The crew certainly had no control over their vessel.

The rain pelted them all day and night. In the morning, Wilam thought the rain slackened off, but Kirstie knew that was wishful thinking. She could sense where the tail edge of the storm was located and knew when they finally broke free of it about two that afternoon.

Everyone weathered the storm, and they lost no one overboard, but there were any number of cuts and bruises as men banged into the wall, the deck, the railing, the mast, and seemingly whatever else they could find. One man busted his arm on his own rower’s bench down below. One man, one of the three on the steering board that held on for twenty-four hours, got thrown from the board at the last and cracked his head against the stern dragon’s tail, giving himself a concussion.

No injury was life threatening, so after a hot meal of fried fish and being warmed by some particularly strong mead that Olaf had down in the hold, they raised the sail and continued their pursuit.

Traventor reported that they lost about half a day on the Viking ship, but that ship, once they hit the coast of Labrador, began to sail slowly to the south along the coast looking for something. Traventor said they could make up the half day by cutting the corner and heading for where they anticipated the Viking ship would be. Kirstie hoped they could catch sight of the ship once they hit the Labrador coast, but they were still too far away for that.

Yrsa got Kirstie’s attention when she reported that she was picking up something like a spiritual broadcast. The hag was reaching out to the tribes as she went by, looking for a people that would be amenable to her word about Abraxas. Abraxas might have been banished from the earth, and everywhere on the earth that he had some connection. But Kirstie understood if he forged a new connection with people unknown to him, he might yet come back to earth and ruin everything.

History has no record of Abraxas being worshiped in the new world. He has no more place here than in the old world.

Captain Olaf’s ship had a small mizzenmast for a second sail. Even though his ship was heavier and sat deeper in the water, it could almost match the speed of the longship. It could not maneuver as well, and when they had to get out the oars it lagged behind, but as long as they had the sails up and a good wind the Viking longship would not get further away.

“The hag needs to find a people confronted with two different worldviews and confused about what to believe,” Kirstie said to Yrsa, Wilam, and Brant. “She seems to be reaching out to the tribes along the shore, looking for the right set of dynamics.”

“She is looking for people with no faith that she can fill with faith in Abraxas?” Brant asked.

“No. I think it is more people whose view of the world seemed rock solid and are suddenly confronted with something that tears down that view. It is people who have always believed, but now don’t know what to believe. That is where she can gain converts, and with enough believers, she can invite Abraxas to return to the earth and start all over again.”

Kirstie imagined she knew where the hag would end up. When the Vikings came to Belle Isle and turned into the strait, she felt sure they would park a L’Anse aux Meadows on Newfoundland. That was where the future said the Vikings built a settlement. She figured they were about fifty or eighty years too soon, but maybe the stories would pass on and one or more of the men might help guide Eric the Red or Leif Ericson in the future.

In fact, the Viking ship hardly slowed when it entered the strait. It sailed all the way down to the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and for a day, Kirstie feared they might sail up the river, but they turned. They reentered the Atlantic, turned again, and sailed down the coast of Nova Scotia.

Captain Olaf’s ship had some difficulty following that course. When they reached what would someday be called the Cabot Strait, the wind turned completely against them. They had to row their way back out into the Atlantic, and that lost them another day.

Captain Ulfsson’s ship left Nova Scotia and skipped over the Gulf of Maine, making a beeline for Cape Cod. Still not finding what they were looking for, they sailed around the islands off the coast and headed into Long Island Sound. When they reached the East River, they pulled up to the eastern shore of Manhattan and went to work.

The island was divided between Iroquois speakers and Algonquin speakers. The struggle for dominance was as much cultural and psychological as physical warfare. It was the earliest version of West Side Story with the Jets and the Sharks struggling to control the neighborhood. Most of the innocents on the island got caught up in the struggle, and frankly did not know what to do.

It did not take long for the hag to gather people to her side. A demonstration of power and the promise of having a god with us was all it took. Many came willingly, wanting an end to the struggles. Some did not believe, but they soon moved out of the way. The Iroquois fled to the Bronx or abandoned the struggle altogether and tried to navigate the paths between the Lenape and Mahican tribes to get back to Mohawk land. The Algonquins crossed over to Brooklyn where they had a strong base, made strong by the twelve-foot giant, Anenak, who lived and all but ruled there.

When Olaf’s s ship arrived in the East River, Kirstie had them row first to Brooklyn. It would be dangerous, but they would need allies against the hag if the Lenape were willing. They were met on the shore by an armed party, and the giant. At least they were not met with arrows.

The captains, their officers with Kirstie and Yrsa came ashore and walked a short way to where the natives stood armed and ready. Wilam whispered. “Thank you, Yrsa, for contacting the light elves in this region and gathering the information we need.”

“And they are watching the hag and Ulfsson’s crew?” Brant wanted to be sure.

“They are, but we have our own problems first,” Wilam answered, and just missed grabbing Kirstie’s arm because of the distraction of the question. Kirstie, as was her way, rushed out in front of the captains and the officers, Yrsa on her tail, and she shouted.

“Giant. Why are you here? The only giants remaining in the north are around the great lakes or scattered across the distant mountains. Anenak, do you not fear the wasting disease being around so many ordinary humans?”

“Who are you to know about the wasting? Are you the one I was told was coming, or is there another?” he asked, even as an elf-like man came to appear beside the giant. Many Algonquin warriors stepped back from the sight, and the captains and their men looked uncomfortable. The man did not exactly look like an elf. He looked like what the Kairos sometimes called a new world elf. He went to his knees in front of Kirstie.

“I am the only one in this time and place,” Kirstie said. “But why are you not with the last of your kind?” she asked.

The giant conceded and told his story. “When I was a child some four hundred years ago, my mother told me the tale of Yazu the Great and his companion, the young mortal girl Huyana not Ugly. They came from the west, far and far. They came to destroy the serpents who walked and talked. The battle was fierce, and in the end, Yazu the Great destroyed the last of the serpents, though he gave his life to do it. The serpents who walked and talked were removed from this world to never return, and Huyana not Ugly buried Yazu in a great mound of all honor. I do not know the truth of this tale, but when the last of my tribe became taken by the wasting, I escaped and thought to come to this place and see if I might find the mound of honor. I have not found it, and now I wonder if the tale is true or just a story.”

“That was ages and ages ago,” Kirstie said. “But it is true. The great evil was utterly destroyed. I know this,” Kirstie said, and reached into the deep past for a life she once lived. She traded places with the young woman. “I know this because long ago I was called Huyana.” She opted to leave the not ugly off her name.

Anenak went to his knees and found a few tears. The natives did not know what to think, but they lowered their weapons, and some of them also went to their knees.

Huyana felt the dizziness come upon her and thought it prudent to trade places with Kirstie again, and Kirstie spoke. “Anenak, my friend. In this life I am called Kirstie, and this time I have come from the east, far and far. There is a new evil that must be utterly destroyed. They are women who become monsters of great power and who speak to the mind about a god that must not be. We chased them across the endless water and came to this place where they plan to do their evil magic. Will you go with us to end this threat to all people?”

Anenak agreed and many of the warriors agreed with him. After all, it was their land and their people at risk.

“Lord Chestnut” she spoke to the elf on his knees. “Please rise. You must ride with us on the ship and explain to the captains how Ulfsson and his crew are preparing to defend themselves.”

Anenak, bring your warriors across the river and we will meet you on the shore and go together.

“They are building a fort by the lake,” Lord Chestnut told the captains as they went to the lifeboat, returned to the ship, and went to the other side.

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

MONDAY

Yasmina reaches Alexandria only to run into trouble but there is both a ship from Amalfi pulling into the docks and the last ship she ever expected to see and hopefully both crews might help. Until Monday, Happy Reading

Medieval 6: K and Y 12 Follow, part 2 of 2

October 29, 2024September 29, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

“But, Mary Katherine,” Wilam said.

Kirstie set aside her worry about Soren to comfort her husband. “We don’t know which woman is the hag,” she said. “It might not be Mary Katherine.”

“But I fear that it is,” Wilam answered. “I was not there to watch over her like a good big brother. She became a teen and I lived with Brant’s family in Lucker. When she married at sixteen, I was at sea. I never met her husband. I asked, but no one could give me a good description of the man.”

“He had a name?”

“Adam,” Wilam said. “She called him the first man. No one knows where he went when he disappeared, but after that, Mary Katherine became different. She brooded, never said much, and never showed interest in other people, girls or boys.”

“And where were you? At sea for the whole month?”

“No, actually. I got home just two days before I found you in Ellingham.”

Kirstie shook her head and said, “I found you.”

Wilam smiled but stayed serious. “He left the day before I arrived. Said he had some business to attend to, but he never came back, and nobody has any idea what business he may have been talking about.”

“And two days later you found me?” Wilam nodded, and Kirstie had to think it through. Two days before she found Wilam in Ellington, they were gathering in the inlet above Howick. Someone helped them when the workers on that farm all left just before the body of Vikings arrived to cross their fields. And Captain Ulf. He seemed to know all about her connection to the spiritual world and all the sprites she had responsibility for. He knew more than Harrold, her own captain from her own village. Granted, Harrold was not there for the Vanlil invasion. He did not see the hag that came with the invaders. But still, Harrold must have heard all the stories, and yet Ulf was the one who knew she could get directions to Ellingham that would avoid all the farms and villages along the way. Abraxas showed up on Lindisfarne right after she killed Ulf, and he called her a cheater. Why should he care about one more mean Viking? He might have wanted her to be killed, but the circumstantial evidence pointed to Abraxas being more involved in that whole enterprise. Ulf was the one who got them to invade Lindisfarne.

Kirstie looked at Wilam but said nothing. Mary Katherine getting married, and the timing of her husband’s disappearance coincided to Abraxas meddling and appearance on the Holy Island too closely for coincidence. If Abraxas was Adam, Mary Katherine could very well be the hag they were after.

“Nolsoy Island on the right,” Brant said, interrupting the couple. “The port of Havn is dead ahead.”

“Yrsa?” Kirstie said as she and Wilam got up and went to the railing.

“I’m looking,” Yrsa responded, but it was an hour yet before they were close enough for even an elf to see anything. It turned out she did not have to report. When they got close, Odger’s longship came out from the port and turned north to try and escape out the top side of Nolsoy Island. Fortunately, Olaf sent Captain Otto to come around the island and approach Havn from the north. Otto moved his ship to block the way and managed to maneuver to force the longship toward the island. Odger had to fight if he wanted to break free, and it got bloody.

In those days, ship to ship battles were fought on the decks of the ships, often grappled together. Otto’s ship, like Olaf’s was built on the Viking model, slim and fast, but like Olaf, he had a below deck. His main deck stood higher in the water than a typical Viking longship, especially when there was not much in the hold. It was from the high ground that Otto’s crew threw several hooks to the Viking ship, to fasten the two ships together. Then the crews went at it. Odger had forty-eight in his Viking crew. Otto had sixty-three, many of whom were men from Lucker and Ellingham, who were still angry enough to want revenge. So the sides were about even. Odger’s men were killers.

The third and final belly boat pulled into Havn to unload their goods, but Olaf sailed north in the wake of the longship and came upon the battle. They rowed to the ships and lowered their anchor on the far side of the Viking longship, far enough to not be caught up in the flames. The longship was on fire. Otto’s ship looked like the place the fire started and it would sink soon enough.

Several men, those that could, swam to Olaf’s ship. They risked serious hypothermia in those waters, even in August. Otto’s longboat came around the back of Otto’s ship. There were some fifteen men squeezed into the boat, and about half of them looked wounded.

Brant took six men in Olaf’s longboat to risk the flames. They gathered another six wounded men before the fire threatened to engulf them. Back aboard, they watched the two ships sink. There was nothing more they could do for any men there who were not yet dead.

Captain Otto made it to Olaf’s ship with a cut in his arm. Greta sewed up lots of deep cuts that day, while Brant turned the ship around and headed for the port. Greta also questioned the few Vikings who were wounded but she did not get any good information until she found Captain Odger’s Skipari.

“Njal is not the captain of the other ship,” the man said. “Gottard Ulfsson has taken the place of his father and says he is sailing to America so he can start again. I do not know where America is except it is west. Far to the west.”

“And the hag is on Ulfsson’s ship?” Greta wanted to be certain they did not drop the hag in the Faroe Islands to begin her work there.

“She is. She is the one who said they must go to America. I thought that was the ancient name for Brittany. I have seen it on some ancient maps.”

“Similar,” Greta said just before the man passed away.

Six young women got taken from Ellingham. Mary Katherine at twenty was the eldest. Mildgyd, Hild, Heather, Cyneburg, and Elizabeth followed, with Elizabeth being just thirteen. Most of the crew imagined they were taken to be thralls, but Kirstie, and a few others, namely the leaders of this expedition understood. If Ulfsson said they were beginning again, they would need some women to do that. The men on his ship could not count on capturing enough native women to make that happen.

“Mary Katherine is the hag,” Wilam said for the hundredth time as they pulled out of the harbor in Reykjavik. They were a day behind Ulfsson, and they did not appear to be getting any closer.

“You don’t know that.” Kirstie tried to sound certain, though all the circumstantial evidence pointed to Mary Katherine. “And if she is, you are not responsible for that. She is a grown woman, able to make her own choices, and has to deal with the consequences of her own actions.”

Wilam heard her, but he still looked at her like he felt responsible no matter what she said. “She is, and now I will have to kill her.”

“That is not your responsibility either.” Kirstie did not say it was her job, but she thought it real hard.

When they reached Greenland, the water sprites who directed their voyage brought them to a native village along the southern coast, or what was left of it. Ulfsson landed there, as the water sprites followed Ulfsson’s path, but nothing remained of the people in that place. The men, including Captain Olaf and Captain Otto hoped that some of the people escaped.

“Maybe there is another village not too far inland,” Captain Olaf suggested.

It looked like a massacre. And some of the men in that place were shredded, clearly the work of the hag.

“We can assume they took whatever food and water these villagers had,” Brant said. “They will eat while we go hungry.”

“Maybe we need to stop and see what we can gather from the wilderness.”

“No,” Kirstie said. “We push on. The water sprites can supply us with fresh water, and we can fish.”

“How so?” Captain Olaf wondered.

Kirstie turned to face the water and shouted to the sea. “I need three salmon, three mature cod, and three mature redfish.” They waited, but eventually three salmon, four codfish and seven golden redfish leaped out of the water and landed on the deck. Men gathered the fish and began to clean them for the fire while Kirstie said, “Thank you.”

“I count seven redfish,” Wilam pointed out.

“So? Fish don’t count well,” Kirstie said, and she called to Vingevourt.

Vingevourt came with a friend. “This is Traventor, Lord of the Labrador Sea. I must return to the North Sea and to my work, but he will take you from here, and he has important news.”

“Lady,” Traventor bowed. “I have spoken with your children in the clouds. The hag has called on some unknown power and called great winds from the north. It will race down the straight between the lands and strike the sea when you are half-way across. The rain will come with it, and there is no stopping it.”

“Sky babies,” Kirstie immediately called to the clouds. “Come to me my children.” Two small clouds separated from the already darkening clouds overhead.

“The storm is coming,” the clouds spoke.

“We cannot stop it.”

Traventor also spoke. “The waves will grow big as is their way.”

Kirstie nodded. “I do not ask you to stop the storm, but can you turn it some toward the land we came from.? And Traventor, can the sprites in the waves keep this ship steady and on course?”

“We will do all we can,” the clouds spoke again.

“May it be enough.”

“We can keep you from tipping over or sinking,” Traventor said. “We may even move you faster than you have been moving if the cyclone cooperates. If not, we will try to keep you from falling behind. But you better hold on.”

Kirstie thanked them and the sprites went back to their business while Kirstie turned to Captain Olaf. “Prepare for storm running,” she said. “We better tie ourselves down.”

Brant, Captain Otto, and Captain Olaf all tried not to panic as the sky darkened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Home,” she said.

“I don’t live there.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Medieval 5: K and Y 20 Misdirection, part 3 of 3

August 21, 2024June 29, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Kirstie cleaned her sword on the spring grass before she sent it home to Avalon. She checked her shield and battleaxe. The shield was beat up but repairable. The axe was in good shape but would need sharpening. She sent them and the sheath for the sword to Avalon as well. She found Excalibur on Avalon in her mind’s eye. It was the sword made in ancient days for the young Diogenes of Pella and used so well by Arthur. She called it to sit at her back. It felt a bit heavy, but it was what she had. Then she looked up.

Half of the men had crossed the field and come to stand on Kirstie’s side of the field. She saw Rune and Jarl, Bo Erikson, and one of the captains she did not know well They all brought their crews to her side. Gunhild waved to her. She looked back and saw Toke start across the field. She heard Harrold yell.

“Where do you think you are going?”

Toke answered in a very flat voice hardly loud enough for Kirstie to hear. “I can see how this is going. I don’t want to be on the losing side.”

Most of Harrold’s crew from Strindlos followed Toke. After all, Kirstie was one of theirs, and for some, a good friend and neighbor. The rest followed Harrold when he stomped across the field swearing loudly most of the way. He paused long enough to point a finger at Kirstie and yell. “Don’t think you are getting away with this.”

Odger said nothing. He took his crew down the bank to the sea, boarded his ship and set sail. After a few minutes, the other captain that Kirstie did not know well did the same thing. Finally, Ulf’s crew, being the last crew on that side of the field, followed.

The men that came to join Kirstie seemed happy, most of them, that at least they would not have to fight anyone, but Kirstie had a thought and raised her voice. “The tide will go out soon and there is an army waiting to cross the bridge. We need to be gone before they get here.”

Rune and Jarl started it. Soon, all the men were headed back to their ships. They generally waved and smiled for Kirstie, not wanting to get too close to the giant. Frode braved it, and Gunhild. They hugged Kirstie. Thoren and Kare stopped out of Vortsvin’s reach, and Kare yelled at her. She ruined everything. She yelled back for a minute before she pointed out that he should at least be happy that she is still alive. He did not listen, so neither did she.

Thoren interrupted when they seemed to run out of thing to say. “We need to go.”

Kirstie looked at him and said, “I’ll catch up.”

Thoren tapped Kare on the shoulder, and Kare turned to follow his friend, apparently thinking deep thoughts.

Kirstie saw Yrsa caught up with her, and Father McAndrews stopped to talk to the giant. Vortesvin had his hat in his hands and kept calling the priest “Your Holiness.” Kirstie thought it best to interrupt.

“Vortesvin,” she called.

“Yes, Lady. Excuse me.” Vortesvin stepped to Kirstie who shook her right hand to get the circulation back in the hand, and she moaned a bit as her shoulders and back were going to ache with her legs, or for that matter, all of her. She figured for the moment the adrenaline was still pumping.

Kirstie spoke softly. “Thank you for being here and keeping me safe. You need to go home now. Tell Fiona and the boys I will be home as soon as I can and tell the same to Inga if you see her.” She patted the troll on the shoulder, about as high as she could reach, and Vortesvin disappeared. Immediately, Abraxas appeared in a flash of light.

“You cheat,” he said, almost before he became fully manifest. “What?” he added when he saw the look on her face. Kirstie just killed a man. She was in no mood to kill again, or even deal with this monster. She traded places with Danna, the mother goddess of the Celtic gods on whose land they stood. Abraxas flinched, but he did not run away, not that he could have gotten away. Danna suspected he had something in mind, but she could only deal with that when it happened.

“Morrigu, your mother, and Janus, your father are both waiting for you on the other side,” Danna said.

“How do you know what is on the other side?” Abraxas complained, sounding a bit like a child.

“Boys,” Danna called. Gwyn came from his hermitage in Tara and Manannan came from the sea. They appeared on either side of Abraxas where they could hold him in check. Danna already glued Abraxas’ feet to the earth so he could not escape. It did not take long to figure out what she would do. “I banish you from my islands, so now you are banished from all the earth. Anywhere you set your feet on the ground, or the waters will be death for you.”

“What about these two,” he complained. “Why are they still here?”

“My disobedient children are not your concern,” Danna answered. “But let me say that they are not trying to turn the human race to worship them. They are not trying to build a new dynasty of gods. They are not making hags to threaten and terrify the people. You don’t seem to understand that the day of the gods is over. The old way is gone, and the new way has come. I trust they will go over to the other side in due time. I do not trust you. I have given you three chances to do the right thing, and three times you have failed.”

“Who made you the decider of all things?” He sounded bitter.

“The source through the council of all the ancient gods gave me the responsibility to watch over history, and you are seriously messing it up. So, now you no longer have a place in Europe, North Africa, or the Middle East, and there is nowhere else on this earth that you have a claim. Even so, I will not take your life. You can wander through the Second Heavens until you find the courage to do what you should have done ages ago. Visit the ruins of Olympus, the land of your father. Visit the broken-down halls of Aesgard, the land of your mother. Only, do not return to the earth under penalty of death. It is so,” she said and waved her hand, and Abraxas vanished.

“Mother,” Manannan nodded to her and vanished.

“Mother.” Gwyn stepped up and gave her a hug.

“Is this a touch of gray hair I see? Are you eating right and getting enough sleep?”

“Mother, the daughters of Macreedy are sticklers about such things and after these last few hundred years, I can’t fool them like I used to.” He sighed.

Danna asked, “When?” She touched Gwyn’s radiant cheek before she let him go.

Gwyn backed up. “As you said. In due time.” he vanished, and Danna let Kirstie come back, aching muscles and all, and she spoke right away. “I question the wisdom of that. I may regret letting Abraxas live. He submitted to his judgement too easily. He must have something up his sleeve. He presented himself for judgement.”

“One day, when the trumpet sounds, we will all present ourselves for judgment.” Father McAndrews stepped to Kirstie’s side with his eyes still focused on where the ancient gods stood. “The god of the sea and the bright and shining Gwyn ap Nudd.”

“That was one of his names,” Kirstie nodded.

“And the one who called himself the god of fire and water.”

“Abraxas.”

“And you are Gentle Annie, Anu, the mother of the gods?”

“I was once, but that was ages and ages ago. In this life and this world, I am a mere mortal girl, or woman.”

“One gifted beyond what you deserve.” Father McAndrews smiled for her and handed her a little gold cross on a metal chain. “To replace your little wooden one.”

Kirstie nodded and hugged the man. “You know I won’t be allowed to keep this. Captain Harrold will steal it as compensation for making him miss the treasures of Lindisfarne.”

“But this is not from Lindisfarne. You can tell him. It was my mother’s.”

Kirstie looked at the cross while Yrsa spoke. “Good thing it is not bigger. More gold would tempt Captain Harrold to turn around and come right back here looking for more.”

One of the monks who inched up in Father McAndrew’s tail spoke. “The only treasure we have at Lindisfarne is the Gospel of Jesus Christ.”

“And that is the finest treasure in all the universe, only my people don’t know it,” Kirstie said, and slipped the cross and chain into a small purse she had hidden inside her armor where it looked indistinguishable from the rest of her outfit.

Father McAndrews hugged Yrsa and returned Kirstie’s hug. “We all have our divinely appointed path to follow. I can see that yours is a hard one, but all the same, I would say you are a fine young woman.”

“And one who must go,” Kirstie said. “But you must visit my home. We are in need of the good news of salvation. We need to hear about God and the forgiveness in Jesus. Come to the great fjord in Trondelag, and my home Strindlos. Kerga is Chief. Bring him a gift. It is tradition. Mother Vrya is the Volva, a healer, storyteller, and sage whose advice is sought by chiefs from all around the fjord. Mother Vrya. Chief Kerga. Strindlos. I will look for you.”

Kirstie was ready to go, but Yrsa added a complication. “Look for Wilam of Ellingham. He is a navigator and Brant Svenson is the skipari. They sail with the merchant Captain Olaf out of Bamburgh. They may be willing to brave the Norwegian shore. In fact, you may find Wilam with the men of Ross even now sailing to the island. Despite moving in the early hours before dawn, our longships were seen. Good thing Lady Kirstie convinced our people to leave. Otherwise, this holy island would have become a battleground. Wilam of Ellingham. Brant Svenson. Captain Olaf out of Bamburgh.”

“Go with God,” Kirstie started walking. She wanted to yell at Yrsa, but she could not get the words passed her smile that came from thinking about it.

END

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MONDAY – TUESDAY – and WEDNESDAY

A brief respite: three short stories that are all wonderfully politically incorrect. Of course, in this current cultural climate that makes the stories unmarketable, but they are worth reading. I hope you enjoy them and Happy Reading

Storyteller Tales & Thoughts

Stories and reflections on storytelling

Abraxas

Medieval 6: K and Y 20 End and Beginning, part 1 of 2

Kirstie

Medieval 6: K and Y 19 To Abraxas, part 2 of 2

Kirstie

Medieval 6: K and Y 19 To Abraxas, part 1 of 2

Kirstie

Medieval 6: K and Y 18 Aesgard to Avalon, part 2 of 2

Kirstie

Medieval 6: K and Y 18 Aesgard to Avalon, part 1 of 2

Kirstie

Medieval 6: K and Y 17 The Rainbow, part 1 of 2

Kirstie

Medieval 6: K and Y 13 To the New World, part 1 of 3

Kirstie

Medieval 6: K and Y 12 Follow, part 2 of 2

Kirstie

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

Medieval 5: K and Y 20 Misdirection, part 3 of 3

Kirstie