Avalon

R5 Greta: Usgard Above Midgard, part 3 of 3

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By long standing tradition, meals were not to wait the arrival of the Kairos.  In fact, little of daily life changed when she was present, so little changed when she was absent, which became most of the time. All the same, Mrs. Kettleblack who had been cooking for the Kairos for nearly five hundred years, banged her wooden spoon on the urn when Greta came in, and everyone rose, including Lord Gotlieb, though he rose with two handfuls of food.  Still, he rose because he knew if he did not, Mrs. Kettleblack would have banged her spoon on his head.

Poor Mrs. Kettleblack, Greta thought.  The dwarf looked like she aged, and Greta felt sorry that even in the rarified atmosphere of the second heavens, her little ones still did not live forever.

“Buffett this morning.”  Mrs. Kettleblack announced.  “But any of my poppins will be glad to fetch.  Just be askin’ and we’ll be getting’.”  She pointed to a special place which had been set aside for Berry. Berry looked at her and Greta thought a moment.  She decided, no.

“Get big, please, Berry,” Greta said.  Berry paused to look around.  She had never seen so many full blooded, special little ones in her life.  She got big.  She felt very human and thought she might as well look it.  “She had better sit beside me this morning,” Greta concluded. The place at Greta’s right hand was empty at the moment.

“Good morning.” Thumbelin said, as they sat down.

“Good morning Thumbelin,” Greta said, and then she added, “Good morning,” generally to the crowd. Most responded, except a few, like Gotleib who had just stuffed his mouth full of eggs and sausage.

“Good morning sweet Berry,” Thumbelin added.

“Morning,” Berry said.  She got distracted, watching the young lady elves who looked like glittering young children of light.  They fixed plates for her and Greta with a little of everything, and they watched her, too, and giggled.

“For all of the magic that gave her little wings, she is still three-quarters human,” Greta explained.

“Oh, my sweet dear,” Thumbelin said, in a very sympathetic voice.  “That must be very hard for you, but I am sure it is a good thing, too.  Good will happen.  You will see.”

The two plates were delivered while Gotleib and an ogre Prince jostled for position in line so they could get twelfths.  Greta looked away, glad that the ogres had their own corner of the room, out of sight of most.  She did not want to look at one while she ate, and did not want to watch one eat.

“But you have the same things I have,” Berry said, which took Greta’s attention, and Greta thought she should explain.

“You see, Berry, I have never been here before, myself.  The last time I was here I was someone else.”

“Sheik Ali.” The Lord of the Rainclouds spoke up. “And a fascinating gentleman he was. I never knew much about the desert before, but now I see it is an intriguing world all its own, full of wonders and life.”

“Exactly,” Thumbelin brought things back to the point.  “But we have not seen our lord, now lady in twenty years.”

“But you got the same as mine,” Berry said, being very one tracked.

“But I have never tasted any of this before,” Greta said.  “Not with these taste buds.  I know what Ali liked, but I might not like the same things.”

“Uh-huh,” Berry said.  She did not really understand, but by then she got busy sampling.

“She is sweet,” Thumbelin remarked.

“Uh-huh,” Greta responded in the midst of her own sampling.  Then she thought to say more.  “Barring an unforeseen accident, she will probably end up my sister-in-law. I worry about her.”

Thumbelin and several others gave knowing smiles and nods.  “I thought it might be something like that,” Thumbelin confessed.

There were private conversations after that, but finally, when breakfast was nearly over, Lord Madwick could wait no longer.

“Lady Kairos, forgive this impatient spirit, but now that you have come we must do something about these unlawful intrusions into the realm.  With all due respect, the knights of the lance simply cannot be everywhere at all times.”  He sat down.

“What he means.” Lord Burns spoke without standing up. “The fire sprites are ready to guard all of the portals at your request.  There are more than enough volunteers to cover all known ways.”

“The ethereal spirits who have kindly taken the lance are insufficient in number.”  Lord Deepwell of the dark elves confirmed.

Greta looked around the room.  It was full of kings and queens, but these were not the rich and powerful as they would have been in a human assembly.  Instead, these made a righteous gathering as each of these spirits came acclaimed by their people as worthy to represent them in their affairs. Greta felt she did not come to Usgard often enough, but then, she always felt that way.

“My Lady.” Lord Zephyrus spoke.  “Do not think the children of the winds and the sprites of the sky are less serious about helping, even if the fire burns hottest.

“My Lady.” Lord Shoals spoke.  “Waters surround our home.  We are disappointed with ourselves.  Ours is the first line.  Ought to be enough.  We wish to do enough.”

“Lady Corallion?” Greta asked hoping she would explain what her husband just said.

“We want to help make Avalon safe, too,” she said.

“Us, too.” Princess Burntbottom spoke up from the ogre table.  The unfortunate child got born some sixty-six years earlier, during the eruption of Mount Vesuvius.  Of course, as an ogre, she wore her disfigurement as a badge of honor.

“And us.” Everyone else chimed in, and Greta had to hold up her hands for silence.

“Lady Kairos.” The deep and eerie voice caused a hush. It was Lord Darkvein, the goblin king. “All of your people wish to help. It is gracious of you to provide this place of refuge and peace for us all.  The least we can do is help defend it from demons, unwanted.”

“It is decided,” Thumbelin said softly, and Greta frowned.  It got decided, as usual, without her having any say in the matter.

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

MONDAY

Th visit to Avalon is not over, but at some point, Greta knows she and Berry will have to return to Ravenshold, and reality.

Next Week, look for “And Back Again”, same blog, same website.  Until then, Happy Reading

*

R5 Greta: Usgard Above Midgard, part 2 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Berry became enchanted by the softest lawn, the brightest stars and most glorious moon she ever knew.  The trauma of the last few minutes went completely from her mind.  Greta turned to the knight who was in truth a knight, like something out of the latter Middle Ages, in full plate armor so that no flesh or anything else showed.  She knew immediately that the knights of the lance never spoke, so she voiced her thought. “Thank you.”  And then she realized that she knew a lot of things that Greta never knew.

Greta looked up toward the castle on the hill.  It was her tradition to enter the castle across the lawn and through the main gate to give the little ones inside time to prepare.  “Huh!”  She said to herself, but it felt like a comfortable word, not a curious one.  She felt more herself than she ever felt before, and she decided that in Usgard, she became more the Kairos, her true self that lived again and again, than any individual, given life, even though she remained the Traveler Greta more than any other Traveler.  “Huh!”  She said again, and she called for Branworth.

Branworth appeared nearby as she began to walk toward the castle, Berry in her train, and escorted by the remounted knight.

“Lady Kairos.” Branworth bowed.  “The knights of the lance have made wonderful progress in guarding the borders, but as you see, even they have not been entirely successful.”

“I would not call the front lawn before the Castle successful at all,” Greta said.

“No, my lady. You are right,” Branworth admitted. “But the knights are not nearly as numerous as the ways in and out of the land and the isles.  Since the cracks developed in the days of young Lydia’s difficulties, at the time of dissolution of the gods, even their sleepless vigil is not enough to guard all ways at all times.”

“So I see,” she said.  And she did see.  She did not condemn the effort being made.  Rather, Greta sounded grateful, and felt rather inadequate to guard even her small charge; to give the little ones a safe haven from the world.  “We will work on it, Master Branworth,” she said. “We will figure something out.”

Greta stepped up to the castle gate and felt overawed by the enormous size and complexity of the structure, even if she knew it as a small thing compared to the Great Hall of Valhallah, the Hall of Odin, or the home of her mother, the goddess Vrya. That is to say, Nameless’ mother.

“Lady Kairos.” Thimbelin arrived and she curtsied slightly.  Greta greeted her friend with a hug and a yawn.  She passed pleasantries with the Queen of the Fairies before she excused herself for the night.  She apologized to the fire sprites, Madwick and Burns, and said their concerns would have to wait until morning.  Then she led Berry to her own rooms where the mistress elves had already made up two scrumptious beds.  They had fairy cloth laid out, and Greta slipped into hers, grew it with a thought to a full-length nightgown and colored it pink before changing it to blue.

Berry spent a great deal of time in front of the full-length mirror, stretching and shaping her own clothes.  She changed the colors and tried dozens of patterns before she ended up very much where she began.  “It’s just no good,” she complained.  “I don’t have any shape.  No matter what I do, I still look like a stick.”

“You’ll have shape soon enough.”  Greta laughed as she curled up in bed, while Berry curled up on the window sill. “Don’t stay up,” she said. “Tomorrow will be a busy day.”

“But I want to have as much of the land of wonder as I can before we go home.”  Berry said.

“Don’t worry.” Greta yawned once again.  “There is time enough.  There is time.”  And she fell fast asleep.

Time under the second heavens, like everything else, is a relative matter.  They stayed two days and three nights in Usgard and Greta insisted that when they went home it would be the very next morning of the night they left, as she more or less promised Darius.  From the first morning, however, Greta felt rested and refreshed, like she came home at last.  She imagined no other word for it.

At some point in the night, Berry curled her small self up on the pillow next to Greta’s pillow and completely ignored the bed which had been made up just for her. Presently, she was lying on her face with her knees pulled up and her little butt sticking straight up.  Greta could not resist taking her finger and knocking her over.  Berry sat up. Her wings fluttered while she rubbed her eyes.

“I’m not awake yet,” she protested.  “Do I have to get up?”

“Yes, sweet,” Greta said.  “It’s time for school.”

“School?” Berry’s eyes got big for a second before she snuggled down deep into the pillow.  “I can’t go to school today,” she said.  “I feel sicky.”  She pretended to sleep some more, while Greta got up and looked in the mirror.  She needed that bath and the time to wash and dry her hair; but then she did not want to keep Mrs. Kettleblack and all of the others waiting, especially on the first morning.  The sun had already gotten up and that seemed late enough.

Greta went to the mirror and shaped her fairy cloth into a plain brown dress such as she might have worn at home.  Then she decided that she was only seventeen, so she shortened the dress to knee length, then shorter, and got it as short as pixie length, and almost as tight.

“Too muchy,” Berry said, and made a face.  Greta sighed. She made plain shorts and a simple T, with sandals for her feet.

“Ready for breakfast?”  She asked quickly before Berry made her wear something ultra-boring.

“Breakfast?” Berry fluttered up and hovered about two feet above the pillow.  “I thought we were going back.”

“Not just yet,” Greta said.  “I think we will stay a while.”

Berry zipped around the room in excitement and then followed Greta out the door.

R5 Greta: Usgard Above Midgard, part 1 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Greta went to the city that evening, escorted by Sergeant Gaius and an honor guard of Romans and Dacians.  They had a feast in the banquet hall of the Roman fort.  Fae stayed with her people at the outpost, but Hans went with his sister. He felt well recovered, being young, and since he went, naturally Berry went too.  Greta did not even have to insist.

Greta thought she ate less than Berry, and considering the size of Berry’s true stomach was smaller than a thimble, that said something.  Hans, on the other hand, got his old appetite back.  He ate with both hands, and Berry had a wonderful time feeding him.

The men argued about what to do.  In a way, it felt like being back in the village of the Bear Clan.  Greta’s headache did not feel improved by it at all.

Marcus looked up at her, concerned a little by her silence.  “Tell me, wise woman, what is your opinion on these matters?”

Greta just looked at him.  She suddenly felt very tired, and she yawned to prove it.

“Come now,” Marcus said.  “You came all this way and risked your life to cross the forest.  Surely you had a reason.  You must have something to contribute.”

“Sleep,” Greta said.  “There won’t be anything decided tonight that you won’t still be arguing about in the morning.  I intend to get a good night’s rest and take a fresh look at it all in the morning. Berry.”  She stood.

“Oh, please,” Berry said.  “One more potato.”

Hans pushed back from the table.  “No, I could not eat another bite,” he said, and Berry put down her potato, only a little disappointed.

“Hans, you need to get to bed, too,” Greta said.

Hans paused to look around the room, and then with an annoying tongue he said, “Yes, mother.” The men laughed.  Greta frowned, but Hans got up and followed without further protest.

There were rooms prepared for them in the fort.  Berry would be staying with Greta.  Hans would stay with Darius.  Berry had spent her own time in tears earlier in the afternoon, because four years was forever.  Perhaps because she had been worn so thin, when they reached their room, Berry curled up and went right to sleep.  Greta cleaned up, and then sat and thought and thought.  As tired as she felt, her mind would not let her rest.

It may have been as late as ten or eleven o’clock when she woke Berry.  Berry sat up, rubbed the sleepies from her eyes, and waited patiently for Greta to speak.

“Berry,” she asked.  “How do we get to Usgard?”

“My Lady knows the road to Avalon, certainly,” Berry said.  “I tried to find my way once, but all I did was get lost.”

Greta knew of Usgard, of course.  She knew all about it if she cared to think about it, but in some ways, it seemed like encyclopedic knowledge, lacking any real substance, and that being the case, it felt almost equally true to say she knew nothing about Avalon.  She knew she had to go there, but she felt reluctant to go alone, uncertain of what they would find once they arrived.  “Will you go with me?”  She asked.

“Yes.” Berry spoke with evident excitement. She grabbed Greta’s hand and said, “Let’s go.”

It would not be that easy, Greta thought.  Then again, maybe it would.  Greta and Berry stood and Greta simply raised her hand.  A doorway slowly formed at the back of the room by the window.  It took a moment to come into focus and solidify. Greta looked once at Berry before she reached out and opened the door.

Berry screamed. Greta screamed.  Two creatures attacked.  It took a few moments for them to cross the open lawn which appeared on the other side of the doorway.  They could see them clearly in the moonlight, and did not doubt their intentions. These were not like guard dogs. They were not Greta’s creatures. They did not belong there.  In retrospect, Greta should have closed the door, but at the time she stayed too busy screaming.  Another panic situation.  Even so, she saw the horseman in the distance, but feared he might be too far away to do anything.

The first creature leapt and Berry and Greta separated so it landed between them.  It turned immediately on Berry, but that became a mistake.  For the second time, Greta felt a power beyond reckoning surge through her.  She felt a bit like she had when, as Salacia, she stood in the eye of the hurricane.  She discharged.  The first creature collapsed and gave off the distinct smell of ozone and burnt fur.

The second creature hesitated.  It looked at Greta as if trying to remember something, or trying to figure something out. It took too long.  It had to turn because the horseman came upon it.  It growled an unearthly growl and leapt, but the horseman had a lance and knew his weapon well.  He caught the creature dead center, pushed through the door by his momentum and pinned the creature to the far wall, even as the bedroom door crashed open.  Hans ducked. Darius said something, but Greta could not hear.  He had a sword in his hand as did the dismounted horseman.  They made sure of both the creature on the floor and the one against the wall, then the knight went to one knee before his mistress. Greta looked away for most of the time. Berry, cradled in her arms, still screamed.  Then Greta moved suddenly, before she changed her mind.  She grabbed the knight by the arm and dragged Berry behind and through the door.

She turned to look at Darius.  “If you need me before morning, you can come fetch me, but only you.  No, Hans.  You must not come.”  She closed the door and left the facsimile of an actual door on the other side.

R5 Greta: The Way Things Are, part 3 of 3

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“My lord.” Berry interrupted.  “If you are going to marry my lady, it is important that I do what you say.  That makes you our lord, and all of us need to pay attention to what you say.”

“All of us?” Darius asked.  Greta took his arm again and turned him back toward the tents.

“I have a kind of special relationship with the little ones,” she said.  “It is kind of hard to explain.”  And she tried to explain as well as she could, doing everything in her power to avoid using the word, “goddess.”  She ended by begging him not to tell anyone, especially Marcus. “I know you and Marcus grew up together and you are very close, but I would be so afraid that Marcus might take advantage of them and they might end up slaves, or worse.”

“Marcus wouldn’t,” he assured her.  “But don’t worry.  I won’t say a thing.  This will be our little secret known only by you, me and Berry.”

They heard a wild party going on in the tent.  Baggins beat the drums and Fidget stroked his fiddle.  The visible Hobknot danced a jig and Fae clapped delightedly to the rhythm. Gaius stood by the door, also clapping, while Hersecles both clapped and tapped his feet.  Vilam kept bobbing up and down, keeping time.  Vedix and Cecil circled arm in arm like a couple of hicks at a square dance, while Marcus, worst of all, looked doubled up on the ground, laughing so hard he appeared to be in pain.

“Baggins!” The drums stopped beating. “Fidget!”  The fiddler stopped fiddling.  “Hobknot!” Greta did not sound happy. “Right here, right now!”  The little ones vanished and reappeared instantly outside the tent.  “You call that staying invisible?”  Greta turned on Hobknot.

“They were just passing by,” Hobknot said.  Even Darius rolled his eyes as he picked up on the fact that “Just passing by” was ten or twelve miles away.  “And I figured one more wouldn’t matter,” Hobknot went on. “There’s plenty of humans that think we all look alike, anyway.  Besides.”  He played his hole card.  “I haven’t been paid yet.”

“How would you like no teeth and have to mush the grain and take it through a straw?” she asked.

“Oh Lady, you wouldn’t,” Hobknot protested.

“Miss Fae is a frail, old woman,” Greta pleaded.  “I need someone with a brain to watch over her and tell me if I am needed. You claim to have a brain.”

Hobknot quickly changed the subject.  “Who’s the beef?”

“Lord Darius is my betrothed,” Greta said and reached for his hand though she did not really focus on Darius.

“Oh.” Hobknot got down on one knee and pulled the other two down with him.  “Great Lord Darius, on behalf of all the little ones from the Great Trolls of the mountains to the littlest of smidgens, I hereby pledge our eternal loyalty and devotion ‘till death do us part.  Your word is our command.”

“Ya-di, ya-di, ya-di,” Greta interrupted.  “You swell his head and you will get a lot worse than no teeth.  Now tell the truth.”

Hobknot stood up again.  “Of course, the odds are good we might not follow your commands, exactly, or even one for that matter.  We are all natural liars, you know, and good for nothing thieves, besides.  Hey!  I didn’t intend to tell him that.”

“I think I knew that already,” Darius said, and eyed the dwarfish imp with a look that was not fooled and not going to be fooled.

“Miss Fae,” Greta said.  “Or do I get someone else?”  Greta knew he really wanted to be with her, but he just was not going to make it easy.

“It’s a dirty job watching over that old bat,” he said.  “But I wouldn’t wish it on anyone else.  I better do it myself.”  He walked back into the tent.

“Baggins and Fidget!”  Greta’s words thundered.  “You two helped Ragwart and Gorse keep my poor brother prisoner for three days.” This did not come out as an allegation. The goddess knew the reality, and they knew that she knew.  “Do you know what punishment they got?”

“Oh, no, Lady. Please not that,” Baggins began to weep. “The Mrs and the little ones. What will become of them? Anything but that.”  Then Fidget hit him on the head.

“They didn’t get no punishment,” Fidget said.  “In fact, the Lady gave them permission to steal some things.”

“That’s right,” Baggins suddenly perked up. “How did they get so lucky?”

“Do you want the same punishment they got?” Greta asked.

“Oh, no, please.” Baggins started again so Fidget hit him again.  “I mean, yes, please.”  Baggins finished.

“Then here is what you must do,” Greta said.  “Go over to the Quadi camp.  Take as many other musicians as want to go.  Throw a big party.  Keep the Quadi up all night dancing and singing.  Only one condition.  I don’t want you or any of my little ones to get hurt.  Do you understand?  Party all you want, only no little ones get hurt.”

“Party, but no one gets hurt.”  Baggins nodded.

Fidget stood and knocked Baggins on the shoulder to follow.  “Yes, ma’am.  Thank you ma’am.”  Fidget said quickly.  They bowed several times and vanished before Greta might change her mind.  Only three words floated back to their ears.  “We do weddings.”

Darius looked at her.  “I’m afraid to ask what that means,” he said, and he laughed; but to Greta it sounded like nervous laughter.

“What will they do to the Quadi?”  Marcus stood right there to ask.

“Probably not much,” Greta answered.  “Despite the bravado, they really have no interest in humans or human affairs. They will party.  I only hope it will keep enough of the Quadi up and prevent them from making a serious, full scale attack in the morning.  Give you and Darius another day to argue.”  Greta meant that as a joke, but Marcus looked serious and Darius looked at her with an uncertain eye.  Greta stepped into the tent and found Gaius and Vedix already beginning the arguments.

“Excuse me.” Darius said.  He stepped from the tent, found his horse, and rode back toward the city.

“What’s with him?” Marcus did not really ask.

“I have a terrible headache,” Greta said, and she went back to where she, Darius and Berry had spoken privately.  Damn it! It felt true enough.  She did love him.  And she had to cry about it because she felt sure he was lost to her.

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

MONDAY

Greta needs to think.  The rebels have the guns and are fortified on the temple mount.  The Roman numbers are small for the moment, and the legion is days away. And the Germanic Quadi invaders are arriving in their thousands.  Greta needs to get away, to think.  She will go to Avalon, her real home, the home of the Kairos, or as she calls it her her Dacian tongue, Usgard above Midgard…

Until then, Happy Reading

*

R5 Greta: How May Miles to Avalon? part 1 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“Oh, no, my Lady.”  Berry jumped up.  She remained full sized, and Greta decided that perhaps Berry was thirteen after all. “But that would mean, Bogus, oh dear.” Berry finished without saying anything at all.

Greta spoke up loud as the men picked themselves off the ground.  “It would be a great kindness to me if you would clean up the three in the lock-up and feed them so they are ready to travel when I return.”

“It will be done.” Baran spoke graciously.  He dared not speak otherwise.  He behaved like a politician, after all.

Greta smiled, but turned to Fae.  “Coming?” She asked.  She stepped over to help Fae to her feet the way she used to help Mother Hulda.  At first Fae looked reluctant to have Greta even touch her, but at last she accepted Greta’s help even as a small tear fell to her feet.

“Where are we going?”  Fae asked.

“To see Bogus the Skin.”  Greta answered.  “This foolishness has gone on long enough.”

“Oh, oh, but oh!” Berry tugged on her own hair as if trying to hide in it, pacing in a quick two step back and forth, and not sure of where to go or what to do.

“If you get little again, you could hide in my hair.”  Greta suggested.

Berry looked at her with astonishment.  She had not thought of that.  Immediately, Berry flew to Greta’s shoulder and stayed hidden from view.  This caused Greta to consider her hair.  It felt frizzled and badly frayed and in need of washing, and so was she, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Vilam?” Greta looked up.  “Will you and your son kindly escort us back across the river?”  Vilam said nothing.  He doffed his hat, nodded to her and to Fae, and went to fetch his son.

They made a quick trip back across the water, and though Finbear continued to stare at Greta, he did not give her the same discomfort as before.  Greta believed he kept trying to catch a glimpse of the fairy on her shoulder, but Berry stayed firmly hidden in her hair.  Every now and then, when Finbear’s attention would waver and he would look down at his pole for a second, her little head would pop out and so would her tongue.  By the time he looked up, Berry would be hidden again, so Greta could not be sure if he ever actually saw the sprite.

When they reached the other side, Greta asked Berry which way to go.  “All ways are equal,” she said.  “All roads lead to Avalon if it is your heart’s desire.” Greta understood.  They would not find Bogus the Skin so much as he would find them.  They said farewell to Vilam and Finbear who headed back for a called council of the Bear Clan.  They did not know it, but Danna made sure that representatives from nearly all of the other Clans would be there by the time the council got into full swing. Only the Dragon Clan in the mountains lived too far away for such short notice.

They waved, and then Fae, who was hardly of the age for a long journey, asked very sensibly, “How many miles to Avalon?”

“Three score miles and ten,” Berry said, without hesitation.

“Can I get there by candlelight?”  Greta asked.

“Yes, and back again.”  Berry completed the story and clapped her hands and giggled.  Fae did not get it, so while they walked in the direction of the fairy circle where Greta and Berry first met, Greta tried to explain.

“Usgard above Midgard is my home, in a sense,” she said, naming the place in her own tongue. “It is a small point of relative stability in the Second Heavens, a universe which folds in and back on itself in ever new, kaleidoscopic fashion.  It is anchored by the seven isles of Elfhome, Dark Elfhome, Dwarfhome and so on.  They act sort of like the tail on a kite, and the innumerable isles stretch out beyond that. All the same it is a small place in the infinitely large and infinitely small universe that divides Midgard from the throne of the Most-High.”

Fae shook her head and did not follow.  “I know of Avalon,” she said.  “It is among the oldest of the stories of my people, but it was always said that Avalon could be found just around the next bend, or just over the horizon, or at the end of the rainbow.”

“Or here and gone in a blink.”  Berry chimed in.  “Or the way you didn’t go, or…”

“Enough,” Greta said, and Berry sat, quietly.  “Mostly it is home for the little ones, much more in the Second Heavens than here under the first.”

“Have you been there?”  Fae asked.

“No.”  Greta shook her head.  “But maybe someday, perhaps, but now, what was I saying?”

“How far is it to Avalon?”  Fae prompted.

“Three score miles and ten.”  Berry shot right back and she would have gone through the whole rhyme again if Greta had not covered her little mouth with her finger.

“It is right there all the time for the little ones.”  Greta said, remembering Fae’s quarter blood.  “It is accessible simply by being there.”

Fae looked very sad.  “How often I felt it was right there before me, and I would reach out and stretch out my hand, but always it stayed just beyond my fingertips.  And when the Villy, the imps of the boon, the spirits of the earth, the sprites of life were in the fields and trees and sky and the moonlight, I could almost see them and almost hear the strange, magical music by which all life danced.  But I never did until today, and now I dare not speak her blessed little name for fear that she will vanish away and prove once again to be only a dream.”

“What?  My name?”  Berry asked, actually following the conversation.  “But my name is easy to say.  You just say “Berry” and I say, “What?”

“And I promise that she won’t vanish,” Greta said.

“Your name is easy, too.”  Berry wasn’t finished.  She squeaked, “Fae.”  She spoke in her normal voice.  “Fae.” She dropped her voice an octave. “Fae.”  They stopped moving.  Berry stood on Greta’s shoulder with her hands on her hips, looking very miffed. Fae just looked at Berry in wonder until she shook herself free.

“What?” Fae asked.

“Yippee!” Berry shouted and did a back flip, landing perfectly again on Greta’s shoulder.  The wings helped.  “Now it’s your turn.”

Fae hesitated, but at last she pulled herself up.  “Berry.”

“What?” Berry yelled as loud as she could. Greta put her hand to her ear, but Berry could not help it.  It all built up inside of her, and with that much built up in that little body, it just had to explode.

“You know,” Greta said.  “Maybe this conversation would go better if you rode on Fae’s shoulder for a while.”

“Oh, may I?” Berry liked the idea but she wanted to be sure it was all right.  She knew the rule that the little ones and humans were not supposed to mingle.

“Yes, if it is all right with Fae,” Greta said.

“Oh, please,” Fae said, and Berry waited for no more invitation.

Good, Greta thought, perhaps now they could get moving again.  She no sooner turned around, however, when she saw a little one standing in the path, baring their way and looking very cross.

Kairos Tales Preview

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Beginning Monday, April 2, 2018

If you have read some of the Avalon stories that have appeared on this blog (available at your favorite e-book retailer), I thought it only fair that you get a look at several of the actual Kairos stories in their full form.  If you have not read any of the Avalon stories that have appeared on this website, that’s okay.  The stories here are self-contained with one exception:

The books (not presently available to buy) weave the partner stories like a fine tapestry.  For this blog, however, I have pulled the stories apart so you can read a whole Festuscato story, for example, without having to flip back and forth to Gerraint and Greta, or as the case may be, to Gerraint and Margueritte.  Hopefully, that will work well.  You can just ignore the rare references to what is happening in those other stories, knowing, that like the Kairos, you will get there, eventually.

This series of stories will begin posting on Monday, April 2, 2018, just in case you want to go into the archives and read from the beginning.  All weeks will have posts on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday = 3 individual, easily and quickly read posts per week to carry the story forward.  A good way to start the day.

 

Kairos

A Greek word meaning opportunity, the right time, a propitious moment, event time, or as the Kairos defines it, history.  It is the name the old titan Cronos gave to the polyploidy being he struggled to bring to life as a complete male and a complete female.  Knowing his time would soon be over, he imagined this complex “one being in two persons” would be his replacement.  When Cronos died at the hands of his children, the mere counting of days ended, and with the birth of the Kairos, history—event time began.

The Kairos might be called the god of history, though the Kairos prefers the term watcher over history, because unlike the gods of old, he or she is not immortal.  Instead, the Kairos normally lives as an ordinary mortal, male or female, sort of taking turns, and as such is subject to all the frailties of the species, while at the same time, being captured by the very events where he or she must inevitably act.

Not allowed to fully die, the being or spirit of the Kairos is taken at death and reborn somewhere else on the planet, where some important historical juncture looms on the horizon.  On bad days, the Kairos complains about being no more than a cosmic experiment in time and genetics.  On good days, the Kairos averts a disaster.

Taken out of the hands of the most ancient gods, and placed in the hands of persons unknown; it is her or his job to see that history turns out the way it has been written.  With access to future lifetimes, as well as past lives, the Kairos knows the way things are supposed to go.  But getting it to turn out right is not ever easy.  Fortunately, the Kairos is able to borrow lives from the past or future that often have the skills and knowledge to meet whatever might arise.  No guarantees, of course.

Stories

Kairos and Rome 5: Rome Too Far

R5) Festuscato: The Last Imperial Governor of Britannia.   9 weeks of posts

Festuscato Cassius Agitus is both a wealthy Roman senator and a cad.  Because of his indiscretions, the emperor’s mother has him sent to the abandoned province of Britannia to bring order out of chaos.  The people there appealed for help.  He can’t end the fighting.  Thus is the age.  But maybe he can bring the Gaelic people together long enough to face the real threats: Angles, Saxons, Jutes, Picts, Irish, and especially, the Huns.

R5) Greta: Over the River and Through the Woods.   23 weeks of posts

Greta, wise woman of Dacia under Roman rule, must go through the haunted, forbidden forest to reach the capitol in time to stop the rebellion.  The Masters buried some hundred-year-old rifles in that area, and Rome and all of history will be in danger if they are dug up; especially if they are discovered by the wicked witch.

R5) Gerraint: In the Days of Arthur, Pendragon.   10 weeks of posts

Gerraint, son of Erbin, with Percival and Arthur, romp through the early days of Arthur, Pendragon.  They fight off a rebellion and beat back the Saxons, Irish, Jutes and Picts, and rescue Gwynyvar.  Sadly, as the boys become men, the fighting never seems to stop.  And Meryddin, a fly in the ointment, appears to be on his own agenda.

Kairos and Rome 6: The Power of Persuasion

R6) Gerraint: Love and War   12 weeks of posts

Gerrain, son of Erbin wins Enid, his love before he is called to the continent to help Brittany stay free.  After a time of torment, Gerraint and Arthur continue to fight off Picts, Scots, Danes, and Angles, before the final battle of Mount Badon.  And still, Meryddin has his own agenda working, subversive in the background.

R6) Festuscato: The Dragon in Ireland   10 weeks of posts

Festuscato gets roped into providing safe passage for Patrick to get to Ireland.  Festuscato wants to see Patrick get started on a good foot, but that isn’t easy when the so-called king of the Irish is against you, not to mention the reluctant druids, the Irish pirates, and the Saxon intruders.  The boy and his pet dragon don’t help, either.

R6) Greta: To Grandfather’s House We Go   20 weeks of posts

Greta’s ward, Berry, and her sister Fae, along with Greta’s brother and Fae’s husband go north, looking for Berry and Fae’s father to bless their marriages.  They get trapped in the land of the lost, and the shattered pieces of the old god Mithras stand against Greta when she sets herself for a rescue mission.  Soon enough, the Iranian (Mithraic) tribes in the wilderness come to knock on Dacia’s door, which doesn’t have enough strength to stand against them.  And the Roman ranks are full of Mithraites.

Kairos Medieval 3: Light in the Dark Ages

M3) Festuscato: The Halls of Hrothgar   8 weeks of posts

After seeing to the safe withdrawal of troops from Britain, Festuscato, Senator of Rome, is shipwrecked on the Danish shore.  With his strange crew in tow, he finds his way to the halls of Hrothgar where a beast called the Grendal has come like a plague on the mighty.  Festuscato leaves nothing to chance.  He sends for Beowulf, but then he has to tread lightly to keep history on track.  He knows things will turn strange as the Grendal, the creature of Abraxas, cannot be harmed by any weapon forged by man.

M3) Gerraint: The Holy Graal   13 weeks of posts

Gerraint, son of Erbin feels his days of struggle should be behind him.  All he wants is to retire to Cornwall with Enid, his love.  But when ghostly hands carry a cauldron across the round table, he knows he has to act.  Arthur deftly turns all talk to the Holy Graal, but Gerraint knows he has to stop the older men from recovering the ancient treasures of the Celts and dredging up the past.  Christendom is only a thin veneer and if Abraxas is allowed to strip that away, history might be irrevocably changed.

M3) Margueritte: The Old Way Has Gone   18 weeks of posts

In the early days of Charles Martel, Margueritte experiences everything a Medieval girl might want: fairies, ogres, a unicorn, dragons, knights to love and daring rescues.  But it is Curdwallah the hag, the devotee of Abraxas, that haunts her dreams in the dark.

Kairos Medieval 4: Saving the West

M4) Festuscato: Senator of Rome   6 weeks of posts

After years of exploring Germania and the Eastern Roman Empire, Festuscato returns to the west, to Saxony and the land of the Franks.  There isn’t much time.  The Huns are moving.  Attila has his eye on the weakened western empire, and the Roman commander in the west, General Aetius, appears stuck in Rome, preoccupied with the Vandals in Africa.

M4) Gerraint: The Last Days of Arthur   6 weeks of posts

Lancelot has taken most of the young men to Brittany, and Greater Britain appears to be falling apart.  Arthur and Gerraint go to bring him back.  They make peace with the Franks, but Lancelot will not be moved.  Upon their return, they discover that Mordred has captured Cadbury and Gwynyvar with an army of Scots, Saxons, and traitors.  The stage is set for the last battle.

M4) Margueritte: The New Way Has Come   18 weeks of posts

The god Abraxass has moved the Muslim Sorcerer to keep Margueritte occupied so the Muslim army from Iberia can invade the north.  Margueritte has to help prepare Charles Martel for that inevitable time, and she must build heavy cavalry for the Franks, virtually from scratch.  What horrors will the sorcerer do to keep Margueritte out of the picture, and will she be too late to save the west?

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

A Brief Introduction

Hopefully, you are a rational and reasonable person in search of a good story, though not necessarily willing to break ranks with the relatively dead and sterile universe in which we presently and conceptually find ourselves.  And if you are not naturally given to flights of fantasy, you may be wondering how all this began.  Where did the idea for such a complex character come from?  If the Storyteller could be interviewed, the answer might be something as follows:

“I was sitting at my desk one day at work, staring out of the window, bored out of my mind, when I had a vision.  I think that was what it was.  At the time, I could not remember having had a vision before, but to be perfectly honest, that is the only word that fits the experience.  Anyway, without warning, I found that instead of sitting at my desk, I sat cross-legged in the grass at the top of a ridge, clothed in odd, but very comfortable Roman style chain armor, and holding a sword across my lap.  The sword felt heavy, and appeared sharp, too.  It all felt weird, but the sword and armor, the grass and all was not the weirdest thing.  As I looked down at the sword in my lap, I saw some obstructions to my vision.  You see, I was a woman, a young, and beautiful woman, I knew that much, with long, light golden brown hair that looked to me almost blonde in the bright sunlight.  I backed away instantly and found myself at my desk.  It all seemed too strange for me.  Like most men, I had regular ideas about women, but being one of them was definitely not on the list.  After that I got to work.  That daydream, as I called it, was not something I wanted to think too hard about and certainly not something I wanted to dwell on.

“The very next day, I sat again at my desk, not entirely bored for a change, because I was considering a topic which I always found fascinating.  I wondered about the idea of the Trinity, and I could not figure out how God could be one God in three persons.  I was one me in one person, and I thought that was difficult enough, but then I heard a voice in my head that said, “No, you are one you in two persons.”

“What?”  I said that out loud, I think.  I looked around, but I seemed to be the only one in the office at the moment.  Everyone else went out to the field.

“Woah!”  I did say that out loud.

Now, please understand, when I said I heard a voice, I did not mean an actual, audible voice.  I meant it came as something in my mind, only it was not just me imagining a voice or thinking some thoughts to myself.  I knew the voice was somehow external, though I could not tell you exactly how I knew that.  Anyway, I said, “What do you mean, one me in two persons?”

“Male and female,” the voice said.  “It is how you were made to be, even if you are only living as one gender at a time, as far as your present consciousness is concerned.”

“Wait a minute.  Who are you?  And what do you mean one at a time?”

“Chronologically speaking, yours is the one hundred and twenty-first life you have lived.  And there are future lives you will live as well.”

“You’re mad.”  I responded, by which I meant, I’m mad.  I concluded that this boring rut of a job had finally driven me off the cliff.  Here I go, falling, over the edge, I thought.  Er, no…  I don’t like heights.  Then the voice sort of took over.

“It is time for you to learn these simple truths about yourself, your many lifetimes and your making, because soon you will begin to experience your other lifetimes.”

“What?  You mean like that woman in the suit?”  I managed to interject that much.

“You will experience far more than that.  And you will find in the course of these experiences that your lives have been lived in partnerships of two or more, but not necessarily in chronological order.  I know that may be confusing for you, especially when you experience future lifetimes; but you will do well if you simply take and record each experience as it comes.  It will all come together in the end.”

“Experience the future?  What?”

“It may be that only you and your partner with you will experience every lifetime, but that is because it is your job to record the events of your many lives.  The other lives you live call you the Storyteller.  But then, you have another job to do in all of those other lifetimes.”

“A-ha!”  I did not actually get the words in, but I thought it loud enough.  “The catch!”

“Your job is to watch over history and make sure it comes out the way it has already been written.”

“A-ha!”  I repeated, and remembered last Sunday’s hymn about God working His purposes out.  I wondered, why me?

“God is working His purposes out.”  The voice knew my thoughts.  “But as you well know, the work is always done through agents of some sort, and mostly human agents.  The Source even emptied himself at one point to take on human flesh in order to act on his own behalf.  Why should history be any different?”

I did not have a ready answer for that one.

“As you experience these other lives in partnership, you will find that still other lifetimes may temporarily break through the natural barriers of time and into the life you are currently experiencing.  Then you will have access to certain skills and knowledge.”

“Wait!”  I practically shouted.  “Why should other lives break through?  Why should I need access to skills?”

“Because there is no telling in advance what skill set or knowledge or other help you may need at a given moment.”

“What?  No telling?  Does that mean you don’t know or that you won’t tell me?”

The voice paused for a minute before it resumed speaking.  “You know full well that the universe is not the dead empty your current culture believes it to be.  The universe is full of great varieties of life.  There are powers and principalities in the universe, and some of those are ambivalent at best toward humanity and human history, and some may even want to change history to serve their own ends.  The universe is full of powers, and as you know, some of them are not very nice.”

I swallowed.  Trying to keep history on track sounded like dangerous work.  Of course, I had no idea at the time, and no frame of reference to understand just how dangerous it could get.  I did have one more question, though.  “Why me?”  I asked.  “I’m nothing special.  In fact, I would say just the opposite.  I have not exactly lived a sin free life, and more importantly, I have just about failed at everything I have ever tried to do.  I am so ordinary in that sense, it even boggles my own mind.  And besides that, I am not a great writer.  Oh, I can tell a story all right, but my writing is rather pedestrian.  Again, it is just so ordinary, you might say.   So, why me?”  I asked, but the voice did not answer. It had gone, and after a while, I decided that maybe the fact that I was so ordinary was precisely why I was chosen.  I understood that someone who already had an inflamed ego and sense of their own importance and abilities would not have been a good choice.  No, not at all.

To be sure, that very night I did begin to remember some early childhood snapshots, as I called them.  Some came from my own life, and some came from the life of the Princes who was, and apparently is, my partner in this lifetime.  She is my time access partner, which is a bit like time travel and connects me to this keeping history on track thing that I am experiencing and remembering.  After that night, things just got stranger and stranger.”

Author’s Note:

I have done my best to keep to the record of the Storyteller as written, only trying hard not to let the facts stand in the way of a good story.  For that matter, some of the facts, like names, dates, exact locations and so on have been fudged a little to protect the innocent, in some cases, but more often because it would not be good to give the Masters, or any other enemies of history an exact roadmap of the activities of the Kairos.  Basically, don’t send me any letters saying such-and-such is historically inaccurate.  It won’t do you any good.

Happy Reading

*

Avalon 5.12 Bad Wine, part 5 of 5

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

The travelers got hauled in front of Solomon, no matter how much they insisted that they needed to see Korah.  They tied their horses out front, and armed up, just in case.  They left the Patton sabers wrapped at the back of their saddles, but they brought their gun belts, and Decker and Katie carried their rifles while Lockhart shouldered his shotgun.  Lockhart figured the locals might not even recognize the guns as weapons, though they said nothing about the knives the travelers carried on thier belts.

“Remember what the Kairos told us last time.”  Alexis spoke to everyone before they entered the audience chamber, and she focused especially on Lincoln and Katie.  “It would have been better to avoid seeing Solomon, but for Pete’s sake, keep you mouths shut.”  She shot the last at her husband who raised his hands in surrender.

The room looked overly large.  Solomon sat at the far end, in a comfortable looking chair, on a raised platform.  The travelers were used to that.  The unusual part was how many, mostly less comfortble chairs, sat up on the platform with him.  Most were empty, but a few were filled with what looked like advisors of a sort—or possibly close, personal friends, not one of whom looked under sixty.  To Solomon’s left hand, one chair got filled with a young girl, maybe fifteen or sixteen, and an Egyptian from her look.

The travelers looked around as they marched up front.  The guards and soldiers were inconspicuous.  Decker, Katie and Lockhart certainly noticed, and Decker probably counted them, but the others paid no attention, which was likely the idea.

Alexis saw one woman, an African looking woman, but with European features, which felt odd.  In fact, Alexis had an odd feeling overall, just to look at her.  The woman did not go about some duties.  She certainly scrutinized them with a knowing look, but Alexis had to move on before she could explore her feeling further, and when they reached the front, she forgot about the odd woman.

The travelers stopped several yards from the platform, and when Solomon waved his hand back and forth, they took the hint and spread out into a single line.

Solomon scrutinized the travelers, and spoke when he was ready.  “You are?”

“Robert and Katherine Lockhart.  Benjamin and Alexis Lincoln.  Elder Stow and his daughter, Sukki.  Mary Riley, that everyone call Boston, and Major Decker.  I assume you are Solomon, the Wise.  It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Solomon let out a slight grin.  “Some think not so wise, including sometimes your friend, Korah, who has been sent for.”  He stared at them again before he asked, “And where are you from?”

Lockhart looked at Katie, Lincoln and Alexis.  He figured if Solomon was half as wise as his reputation, he would see right through any lie he came up with.  So much for Alexis’ admonitiion, he thought, before he turned again to Solomon and answered, “The future.  And we are headed back there, slowly.”

Solomon smiled again.  “We are all headed slowly into the future.”

“But some more slowly than others.  And no, we cannot tell you about the future, and I probably should not have told you that much.”

“Sukki was born before the flood,” Boston blurted out.  “She is not technically from the future.”

The little Egyptian girl huffed.  “Suliman.  These people are boring.  Telling a strange tale that makes no sense does not make them less boring.”  Solomon looked at her, but let her ramble as she turned to the travelers.  “You see, in my hands I have Sekhmet, the lion, who is the real goddess.  I have seen her outside my window on the hot days when she has come into the shade of the wall.  She is my protector, and if you lie about things, and say you are from some imaginary place called the future, she will eat you.”

“She would not do that,” Kaie said.

The Egyptian girl huffed again, and spouted, “What do you know of the real gods?  How can you say that?”

“Sekhmet is our daughter,” Lockhart said, and with a glance at Solomon, added, “adopted, though I believe she adopted us as much as we adopted her.”

“We last saw her when we married,” Katie said, and took Lockhart’s hand.  “That was when the Philistines came from the sea and conqured the land you call Philistia.”

Solomon tipped his head, like he understood something.  “Both my father and King Saul before him struggled mightily to keep the Philistines from overrunning the whole country, and to make a lasting peace.”

“We could call her,” Lockhart suggested.

“But I am sure she won’t come here,” Katie interrupted.  “This place is given to worship the Most-High God—the God of the gods.  The old gods of this world have no place here.”

The Egyptian girl frowned.  “Liars.”

“I don’t think so,” Solomon responded.  “Even if they are not telling the whole truth.”  He scrutinized them once more before he said, “You should not hide yourselves behind such masks.”  He seemed to indicate Boston and Elder Stow, beside Sukki.

Boston looked briefly at Lockhart and Alexis before she removed her glamour of humanity.  The Egyptian girl shrieked and covered her eyes with her hands.  Elder stow looked only at Sukki and nodded.  They removed their glamours as well.  Even Solomon looked shocked at their appearance.

“We are of the elder race that once roamed these very lands,” Elder Stow said.

“Do not be afraid,” Alexis said.  “They are very nice people.”

“We all are,” Lincoln added.

“I am sure this is so,” Solomon said, as he watched the Egyptian girl slowly uncover her eyes, to stare.  “And you are traveling back to the future at a slighly faster rate?”

“Sorry,” Lockhart said, with a smile.  “Still can’t tell you about the future.”

“And you didn’t even say Back to the Future,” Katie said, and squeezed Lockhart’s hand.

“Lockhart,” a man’s voice sounded out from the back corner of the room.  “Have you been telling stories?”  The old man paused while he hobbled into the room, leaning heavily on a cane.  “Boston,” he said, and opened his arms for a hug.  Boston only glanced at Lockhart and Alexis before she raced into the hug.  Everyone smiled, except Lincoln, who asked.

“Korah?”

“Yes,” Solomon said, and he tried not to smile.  “And we haven’t had any stories yet.”

Boston whispered in Korah’s ear.  “You are old again.”

“Every lifetime,” he said, and leaned on her.

“We might tell something from the past,” Katie suggested.

“Like our encounter with Apophis,” Lincoln said.

The Egyptian girl shrieked.  “Please, no,” she said, and covered her eyes with her hands.

Solomon sat up and stroked the girl’s hair, like a doting grandfather, or maybe like a man might pet a faithful dog.  He asked a question while he pretended to be unconcerned.  “So, tell me about this black cloud that chased you into the city so you could not wait for the gate to be opened.  Why did you jump into the pool of Siloam?  Why is it waiting for you, even now, just outside the gate?”

The travelers hesitated, so the Kairos spoke up, now that Boston had helped him get to where he could sit down.  “Go ahead.  Tell us about the djin—the genie.”  He added that word for the men sitting there.

“My wife better explain,” Lockhart said, and he smiled at Katie while he slipped his arm around her.

Katie returned the smile and began.  She told how they entered the time zone, and the djin tried to kill them with the sandstorm. They made it to the city, only to find Ashtaroth, who threatened to sacrifice them in the altar to Moloch.  Boston called to Moloch, and he sent the djin somewhere unknown, and after seeing that they were hedged about by the gods, he sent them to the other side of the Jordan River.  “We set out this morning, after very little sleep, and even so, we almost did not make it to Jerusalem.  We fell into the pool from exhaustion and thirst, after all that time in the heat and desert sands.”

“A djin?” Solomon confirmed.

“A marid,” Korah said.

“Oh, but that is easy,” Solomon responded.  “I have some rejuvination juice right here.”  He stood, slowly for an older man, and picked up a clay jar with a lid that was not exactly like a cork, but near enough.  He lifted the lid, took a sip, and then called to the Egyptian girl.  He leaned on her as he walked, even as Korah continued to lean on Boston.  He took them all to a door that lead out to a balcony right next to the wall.  The cloud floated there, and Solomon called to it.

“Marid, I am Solomon.  I am king of this city and all the land you can see around you.  I have many Marid who are friends in my court.  I wish you no ill will, and I tell you, no harm will come to you here, as long as you do no harm in this place.  Here.  I have rejuvanation juice to toast your health and life.  Come join me in the toast.”

The cloud wavered, but did nothing.

“Come. this will strengthen you after your long hunt.  I drink some every day, but only a little so I don’t become too powerful.  This is stong drink.  You know, I have seven-hundred wives, and three-hudred concubines, and you can imagine at my age how much I need rejuvination.  Even so, all I need is a little of this magic elixir.  They say it can fully restore a person and all of his abilities—even magical abilities, though I have no such talents.

The cloud still appeared to hesitate.

“I see.  You fear the drink may be poison or something.  Here, let me show you.” He took a small sip, waited a moment, and hauled the Egyptian girl to his chest and kissed her, hard.  All the while he held out the jar.  “I am a bull now, ready to mate.  But first I drink to frendship with all the djin.  Will you try some, of course just a little.  No telling how strong you may become if you were to drink it all, or something so foolish…”

The black cloud rushed in, creating a wind it came so fast.  It squeezed itself down into the jug without so much as taking human form.  Solomon put the lid on top and smiled.

“That should keep it.”

A man stepped up with wax and a flame, like he rushed to get them as soon as the king stood.  He melted wax all over the top of the jug and all along the edge of the lid, effectively sealing it tight.  Solomon took off his ring, and while the servant held the jug, he made an imprint of his ring in the top.

“So we don’t forget which jugs have the djin, and which have the fresh wine,” Solomon said.  “That wine had a poor aftertaste, anyway…”  He let the Egyptian girl help him back to his throne.

“We can make love now?” the girl asked.

“Maybe later,” Solomon smiled for her as well as he could.  “Later, if I can stay awake.”

“That’s it?” Lincoln asked.

Korah nodded.  “As long as no one is stupid enough to break the seal, the djin should be held indefinitely.  Even if the seal is broken at some point, the djin will have to return fully to the desert world made for the genies, and heal, before he can do anything else.  And even the powerful and mighty marid cannot return to earth without help from someone on earth, so I would say, yes, that is it.  I do not expect it will be able to bother you any more.”

“But, that is it?” Lincoln asked again.  “But that was so easy—so nothing.”

“Yes,” Korah said, and paused to think.  “You feel let down after all that build up?  You wanted a magical duel, buildings blowing up, sparkas flying everywhere, that sort of thing?”

Lincoln nodded as Alexis answered.  “All I feel is relief.”

“Tell you what,” Korah said.  “Come to my place.  You can eat and rest for a time.  Ignore the boys.  They have the first garage band in history, but at least it is not electric.”

“You don’t want us to move on right away?” Boston asked.

“Lockhart?” Korah looked for him.  He saw him and Katie, still out on the balcony, kissing.

“Still newlyweds,” Elder Stow explained.

Korah nodded.  Solomon spoke.  “You owe me a good story, or two.”

Korah said, “No reason you should not take the chance to rest a bit.  The twenty-first century is still a long way from here.  The gnomes have your horses.  Eat, rest and relax for a bit before you return to the road and your journey… Back to the Future…”

“You said it,” Decker did not sound pleased.

“I know.  If I’m not careful, I’ll get hit with a cease and desist order.  Good luck finding me a thousand years before Christ.”

END of Season Five.

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

Special preview post tomorrow.

Please stop by, and Happy Reading

*

Avalon 5.12 Bad Wine, part 4 of 5

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

The travelers found themselves in a pleasant grove of trees beside a river.  The horses all appeared unharmed.  They also appeared to have their equipment.

“My guess is the Jordan River,” Lincoln said.  “It was the way we were headed.”

“Good guess,” Boston said as she checked her amulet.  “We are about a day from where the Kairos appears to be.  We got a whole lot closer without having to move ourselves.”

“Any idea where the djin might be?” Lockhart asked.  Everyone shook their heads, including Boston, who spoke.

“The amulet doesn’t show the djin.”

“The other side of the Jordan River,” Alexis said, and sighed her relief.  Everyone got it.  When Moloch threatened to send them over to the other side, the way the gods talk about the other side of death, he did not mean to kill them.

“We need to find the Kairos as soon as we can,” Lincoln said.  “Hopefully before the djin finds us.”

“Agreed,” Lockhart said.  “But we need to rest, and heal, and so do the horses.  We take eight hours.  Two for each pair on watch.”

“I could put the screens back up, just in case,” Elder Stow suggested.

“No,” Lockhart said.  “The djin might more easily find us that way.”

“I don’t suppose we could stay long enough to hunt,” Decker asked.

“Bread crackers,” Katie said, with a shake of her head.  “Be glad it is not cold.  I don’t think even a fire would be wise.”

Decker did not argue.  He was military, and knew better than most the trouble any delay might cause.  Tents were teken back from the horses and went up.  Horses got some extra care, then Lockhart started the eight-hour watch.  He knew they would be sleeping after the sun rose, but not for long after.

###

“Still no sign of the djin?” Lockhart asked, as he tried to wake up.

“No.  Nothing,” Boston answered.  “It has been quiet since Sukki and I got up to watch.”

“The sun is well up,” Katie said, as she checked her saddle.  “We still have time to get to where the Kairos is?”  Boston nodded.

“And we go around Jericho,” Lockhart said.  He underlined that for Lincoln.

“We have not been there since that first time, way early in our journey,” Lincoln said.  “I am curious to see how it has changed, that’s all.”

“It is where I joined the others,” Elder Stow explained for Sukki, who nodded, but held her tongue, as usual.

“We ready?” Decker asked.  The others mounted, and they set off through the wilderness.

The travelers found a village and a well-worn path to Jericho.  They asked the way to Jerusalem, and got shown the cut-off that went around the outside of the city and pointed straight at the capital.  Soon, they picked up a better path, almost a road between Jericho and Jerusalem, and they made very good time.

“Much better than the first time we came through here,” Lockhart said, when they paused to walk the horses, to rest them.  “Back then, Old Salem was ruled by the Kairos whats-his-name as an independant city.”

“Yadinel,” Katie told him.  “The Elohim people lived there, but the Jebusites were on the verge of overrunning the city.”

“Now, David might be king,” Lincoln spoke up from behind, his nose in the database.  “But I suspect we will deal with Solomon.  It says here that Nathan was the student of Samuel, and Korah was the student of Nathan.  Korah has two students, Shemaiah and Ahijah.”

“Elijah?” Boston asked from behind Lincoln.

“Ahijah,” Lincoln corrected her.  “Elijah comes further down on the list.”

“So, Korah is a prophet?” Lockhart wanted to get it straight.

“No, technically, he is a musician.  So was Nathan.  Apparently, with some other Korahites, not named after the Kairos, Korah… they composed and play most of the temple music that made the Psalms into songs.”

“Korahites?” Alexis asked.

“Yes…” Lincoln paused to read before he spoke.  “They are levites, the ones who specifically carried all the sacred items all those years in the wilderness, including…” he paused to read.  “Including the Arc of the Covenant.”

“So, now that there is a temple, he has turned to music?” Katie said, like a question.

“So, what do we call him?” Lockhart asked.

“Can’t be Elvis,” Boston spoke up.  “Because we aren’t in Memphis… Egypt.”

“Rabbi, I think,” Lincoln said, and read some more.

“There were Rabbi’s this far back in history?” Boston asked.

“No, I don’t think it’s that kind of Rabbi,” Alexis said.

“Rabbi just means teacher,” Katie shouted back as Lockhart stopped the column.

“Mount up,” he said.  “We have really pushed our luck.  We need to get to Jerusalem, and whatever the Kairos, Korah is doing, I hope he can help us with the djin.”

“I hope we get there before the djin finds us,” Lincoln agreed.

###

“I see the gate,” Boston shouted from the back.  At four in the afternoon, they would easily get there before dark.  Even with that encouragement, everyone dragged toward the gate.  They, and their horses, were exhausted from a whole day of fighting the wind and sand, and then getting very little sleep in the night, and then riding all day without a stop.  They dared not stop for lunch.  They all felt hungry, sick of plain bread crackers.  Mostly, they sweated and were thirsty.  The idea of food and water, and maybe rest kept them going, but they had no speed in them.  That changed when Sukki shouted from the rear.

“I see a black cloud following us.  It looks like it is catching up.”

Everyone looked.  Lockhart shouted, “Ride.”

The road they were on seemed better than most they had seen.  Even so, they probably rode faster than it was prudent.  The wind began to pick up around them and blow dust into their faces, but Alexis pulled out her wand, and the wind detoured around them.  She did not have the power to counter the djin, but she could divert the wind.

Fire came up from the ground, like a living thing.  It shot at them, but Boston had her wand out already.  She could not delete the fire, but she could cause it to bend away from them long enough to pass by.

Decker and Elder Stow came in from the wings to cover the rear.  As the cloud came closer, lighting began to shoot out and explode on the ground where it hit.  The lighting tried to hit them, but Elder Stow had prepared his screens in advance for just this possibility.  He flipped the switch, and the lightning struck the wall of screens he made come up behind them.  It struck the screen and dissipated.  Otherwise, the djin had to fire his lightining too far in front of the group, or too far to either side to be effective.

The travelers galloped flat out where they could, and near that speed in every other place.  They looked like they might make it, but Boston shouted, and made herself heard, as elves can.

“The gate is closed.”

Elder Stow touched something on his screen device and sprinted his horse to the front.  They all understood if they stopped to ask permission to enter the city, the djin would catch them.  Elder stow did not ask permission, or even think clearly of the consequences.  Somehow, they all imagined if they got inside the city they would be safe.  Elder Stow pulled his weapon, adjusted the setting on the run, and fired.  Whatever small part of the door around the edges that did not vanish, exploded and caught fire.

The travelers raced into the city, and the soldiers and watchers in the gate dared not stop them.  Dead ahead, they saw a pool of water.  They rode into it, and after a moment, they got down into the water.  It felt glorious.

They all looked, of course, and noticed that the cloud of the djin stopped outside the city.  It almost seemed as if the wall kept him out.  It made no sense, that a wall could stop a cloud that could easily fly over top.  But something kept the djin out.

As the travelers, and their horses reveled in the water, the guards in the gate pulled themselves together.  After only a minute or so, the soldiers came.

Avalon 5.12 Bad Wine, part 3 of 5

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

The travelers were not disappointed with the tantrum.  The ground began to shake, which Elder Stow said had to be below the screen.  He reminded them the screens formed a globe and projected below the ground as much as above the ground.  The travelers watched as the desert cracked.  Steam shot up from several cracks, like wild geysers.  Flame came up from others.  The Tornado slammed into the screens.  The whole landscape turned from the desert, to an image of Hell.

Boston saw one of the streams of fire waver, and curiosity made her go invisible.  She saw a big, vulture-like bird had fallen to the ground.  It smoked, like it had been burned, and it took a moment to get Alexis’ attention well enough to explain what she could see in the dark, lit up by the light of the flames.

“Of course,” Alexis said.  “It isn’t just us stuck between two worlds.  The whole area around us is shifted, like the real world and the sand world are being overlapped in our location.  We are mostly insubstantial to the real world, and the real world is mostly unsubstantial to us, but not entirely so.  We pass through the real world and the real world through us, but not entirely so.  We have substantial shadows, we might say.”

“Uh-huh,” Boston said, but it would take her some time thinking about it before she understood what Alexis understood.

The ground began to rise, beneath their feet, and while the rest of the people, and the horses, began to panic, Elder Stow smiled.

“Something like rock must be pushing us up from underneath,” Lincoln said.

“The ground won’t stay still,” Sukki complained.

“Why are you smiling?” Boston returned to visibility and asked Elder Stow. He played with the screens, and slowly let sand fall out of the screens from beneath the traveler’s feet as they rose.  The travelers began to sink in the globe or protection.  Elder Stow began to float so he, and his scanner and equipment, stayed in the center of the screen globe, even as the bottom half of the globe got pushed out of the ground from underneath.  Elder Stow left enough sand in the bottom part of the globe for the travelers and the horses to stand upon, but soon enough he floated well over their heads.  He seemed to know exactly when the screen globe broke free of the sand, and he moved without warning.

They flew.

The travelers, the horses, the sand beneath their feet, and Elder Stow overhead.  The whole screen globe flew toward the city, and the djin appeared stymied, like this was an option he had not considered.

“My little flotation device is not designed for all this weight,” Elder Stow shouted down.  “It may give out after a short way.  I do not know how we may hit the earth.  I hope we don’t roll.  I hope the horses are not damaged, or worse, roll on top of you and damage you, but for now, we might as well take advantage of the djin’s mistake.”

“He is flying,” Sukki gasped.

“It is how he got around at first, when he followed us,” Boston told her.  “He went invisible and flew after us.  Nothing we could do about that, until he decided of his own free will, that it was safer and better to join us on the journey, since we were headed in the same direction he was headed.”

They did not fly fast, but some time passed before the djin figured out to raise the wind and sand again and try to blow them back.  Too late.  They reached the city, and Elder Stow just had to figure out how to set them down, safely.  He found a market square, deserted in the night, but big enough if he trimmed the size of the screens.  He went for it, though it took some fast and delicate manipulation of the screen and floatation controlers.

As the screens sank back into the sand, and Elder Stow returned to set his feet again, on the ground with the travelers and the horses, he flipped the invisibility disc back on to show them where they were in relation to the town.  He imagined it was a market.  Katie knew better.

“We must be in Rabbah, and this is the temple complex.”  Katie pointed toward the three-story tall bronze looking statue of a man with a bull head which took up one whole side of the square.  “That is the altar of Moloch.  He eats the sacrifice of human children.”

“Ashtaroth land,” Lincoln read, before he explained the Sukki.  “The one with the basilisk, who ate your entire expedition.”

“No,” Sukki whispered, and hid her face in her hands.  Boston and Alexis comforted her, while Lockhart kept Katie from getting closer, to examine the altar.

Something swirled in the square.  It became a little tornado before it began to form, outside the screen.  The travelers feared the djin, but it turned out to be a woman.  She came dressed in a plain, pull-over dress that fell around her like a shapeless tent.  She did not appear a bad looking woman, though it would have stretched the truth to call her pretty.  Mostly, she looked haggard, or cruel, or broken in some way; and angry, which did nothing for her looks—that, and the two big horns, like bull’s horns, that grew out or her forehead.  Still, she looked human-like despite the horns, but from the way the travelers trembled, they knew she had to be the goddess.

“Let me see you,” she demanded, and Elder Stow wisely turned off his screens.  It seemed better than her breaking them. The woman squinted, growled, and waved her hands.  The travelers felt themselves drawn back into the real world.  The only thing missing was the thump! when they landed.  They watched as Ashteroth grinned a wicked grin.  “The two ancient ones from the before time,” she said.  “And six ohers that do not belong here.  How nice.  What fun we will have.”  She looked up at the black cloud that appeared to hover in the sky and defy the wind.  No one had to guess who that black cloud represented.  “I might even let you live for bringing them to me,” she spoke to the sky.

“Who should we call?” Lockhart whispered.

Katie shook her head.  “In this place, only Moloch, her husband.”  Katie pointed at the altar, the big, bronze bull-headed man.

“Yes,” Ashtaroth said.  “And my husband will be very pleased with your sacrifices.  We have seven chambers in image.  We will cook you, and eat you, and I will relish your spirits.  One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…” she stopped when she pointed at Boston.

“Eight,” Boston prompted, in case the goddess forgot what came next.

Ashtaroth shrugged.  “I have no need for a spirit one.”

“Moloch,” Boston called.  “Moloch…”

“No,” Ashtaroth said, but it was too late.  The god appeared, eight feet tall, muscular, naked, bull head and all.

“You have trespassed on my place,” he said.  “I claim your children.”

“We have no children,” Katie responded.

The bull head looked up at the black cloud and yelled.  “I said no.”  He clenched his fist and the cloud disappeared, leaving a night sky full of stars.  “I claim you,” he said, and Ashtaroth smiled.

“We are hedged by the gods,” Boston said.  “By Enlil, Enki, Marduk, Ishtar, Hebat, Arinna, Hannahannah and Astarte.”

Katie found courage in the names and added to the list.  “By Odin, Zeus, Amon Ra, Tien Shang-Di, by Ameratsu, Leto, Artemis, Apollo and Ares.”

“By Hathor and Horus,” Boston continued.  “By Varuna and Brahma.”

“By Maya, and the Great Spirit over the sea.  By Poseidon, Feya, Bast and Anubis, Sekhmet and the Kairos, and many others.”

“Are you prepared to bring the wrath of the gods down upon you?” Boston asked.

“Harm us at the risk of your life,” Lockhart added.

“The gods will send you to the other side,” Lincoln said, using the words the gods used for death.

“You will be cast into the outer darkness,” Alexis added.

“Even into the lake of fire,” Boston said with a shiver, her head lowered that whole time.

Moloch did not appear to be a bright person.  He held his unclenched hand out to the travelers, like he felt for something.  He seemed to sense something.  He roared loud enough to shake the nearby buildings.  Then he spoke.

“You should not be here.  You should go to the other side.”

Moloch unclenched his fist even as Ashtaroth shouted, “No.”  The travelers vanished from that place.

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

MONDAY

Go to the other side…of what?

Be sure to return for the second half of episode 5.12, and the end of Season Five

Until then… Happy Reading

*

Avalon 5.12 Bad Wine, part 2 of 5

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

The sandstorm kept up for several hours, but with a couple of hours to work, Elder Stow made something like a window, high up on the back side of the screens.  He even bent one section of the screen dome above the window so the sand slid off it, like rain off a roof, and did not come in the window.  Boston, the engineer, asked how he did that.  Elder Stow grinned his best Neanderthal grin and answered the question with a question.

“And how did your father Mingus make a window so only I could see you, though you remained invisible to the rest of the world?”

Boston, who had become visible right away, because staying invisible was too draining, wrinkled her nose as she spoke.  “That is very complicated magic,” she said.  Elder Stow nodded, but said no more.

“How long do you think he will keep this up?” Decker asked.  He chewed on some beef jerkey that had to be at least sixty-years-old after coming through the time gate.  He handed some to Sukki with a word.  “I don’t swallow it.  I just chew it for a while and spit it out.  I don’t have any gum or tobacco.”

Sukki understood.  She tried a piece for something to do, but she did not care for it much.  Gott-Druk, in general, were not big meat eaters.

After Elder Stow set the window, and made sure the screens were functioning properly, he joined the others and had a request for Boston.  “The sand appears to be covering the front end of the screens very nicely.  Boston, would you mind going invisible again and tell me what you see.”

“Okay,” she said, and it took a minute of concentration before they heard her voice.  “I see the field, the trees and the big rock, like no sandstorm ever happened.”

“Good,” Elder Stow responded, and he touched something on his belt and went invisible.  Sukki shrieked before she covered her mouth, and they heard Elder Stow’s voice.  “I see the same, trees, open field, and rocky hillside.”  Elder Stow became visible again, and Boston became visible a moment later.  “Now, let’s see what happens.”  He reattached the invsibility disc to the screens, and when he turned it on, everyone saw the native area.  Dog and Cortez let out sounds of surprise.  Misty Gray and Honey came up to stand beside Alexis and Boston.

“Question.” Lockhart spoke.  “Can you move us with the screen around us, like you did back in Althea’s day when the volcano went off?”

Elder Stow had to think about that.  “I can, but I would have to let solid items pass through the screen, like sand.  Perhaps we can move out from beneath the piled-up sand first before adjusting the screens for easier movement.”

“I don’t believe we have moved back into our world,” Alexis said.  “By becoming invisible, we have made the world visible, but in reality, I suspect we still have one foot in that other world.”

Lockhart understood, as well as he could understand.  Everyone mounted, and did their best to cover themselves and their horses against a blast of invisible sand.  They moved a small way, and could not move any further, like the sreens got stuck or caught on something immovable.

“Okay,” Lockhart said, and Elder Stow switched the screen settings, and they felt the wind, and the sting in the wind, though they did manage to get out from under the collapsing sand hill, which they could no longer see.

“We may have to take this bit by bit,” Katie shouted against the wind.

Lockhart nodded and started them in the direction they needed to go.  They got about a quarter mile before they had to stop and Elder Stow had to restore the screens to their previous condition.  He turned off the invisibility disc.

Everyone saw the sandstorm still raging, and Lincoln asked this time how long this could continue.

“A true duststorm can last from several minutes to several days,” Katie said, having dug up the relevant information from somewhere in her memory.  “It depends on a number of factors that I have no way of knowing right now.”

“Well, we have passed the few minutes part,” Lockhart said.  “We will see how long the djin keeps it up.”

“Hush,” Alexis told Lockhart.  “Let me see your eyes.”  She found some petroleum jelly in the medical kit and made them aply some to the insides of the nostrils, while she explained.  “This storm will dry you out worse than making your breathing heavy.  Your nose and mouth can dry.  We should keep the masks moist.  Your eyes can become dry enough to cause blindness, even permanent blindness. Best not to look up, and not into the wind at all.”

“We should probably cover our horse’s faces completely, and keep their face covering moist as well,” Lincon added.  He read in the database.

“Hey,” Boston got their attention.  “Why don’t we completely cover the horses with our tents, like we do in the snow, like medieval blankets, you know.”

Lockhart nodded and looked at Decker.  Decker appeared to be thinking, but in fact he was meditating and letting his eagle spirit haul him up above the screens to see what he could.  Sukki spoke up.

“Why are we heading straight into the wind?” she asked, innocently.  “Could we go to the side and go around the storm?”

“I imagine the djin wants to blast us head on,” Lockhart said.

Lincoln said, “Tacking,” and Alexis said, “A sailboat,” at almost the same time.

“We would be hit on the side,” Alexis explained.  “But we would not be hit in the face, and could better see where we are going.  With the blanket-covered horses, it would not be so bad.  And when the djin swings the storm to hit us in the face again, we swing to angle in the other direction, to be hit on the other side.”

“At a forty-five-degree angle, our forward motion would be about cut in half,” Lincoln said.  “But it should be more bearable.”

Elder Stow spoke.  “I have to assume the djin is subject to the same laws as anyone.  He can’t hit us from more than one direction at a time with wind and sand.”

“Keep the masks moist,” Alexis said.  “We brought plenty of water, so for a couple of days, if need be, should not be a problem.”

Decker came back and reported.  “The storm in about half-a-mile high and roughly half-a-mile in front, but from the way it dies instantly behind us, I would guess it is being artificially created.  I bet he can keep this up as long as there is sand.”

Lockhart stood.  “We are going to tack to the city, like a sailboat.  Get your tents and get the horses covered.”

###

The crew stopped for about the tenth time, well after dark.  Stopping proved no problem, but if they stopped for too long a period of time, the sand built up again against the screens, and then they had to backtrack before they could move forward again; and progress came painfully slow as it was.  People and horses got as much rest as they could, and they turned off all the lanterns but one to conserve power each time they stopped, but there was not much rest to be had.  Alexis checked people’s eyes and noses every time.  Boston and Katie took on the task of checking the horses.  It did not help matters when Boston said the horses should not go out again.  She said that the last two stops, but this time Katie agreed with her.

“Quite all right,” Elder Stow said.  “It appears our djin is tired of the game as well.”  He threw a switch on his scanner and the screens solidified, even as they had been at first.  He also turned off the invisibility disc so everyone could watch.  The storm ended, suddenly, and a tornado took its place.  It slammed into the screen, but it could not penetrate.  Elder Stow spoke calmly.

“Over our various stops, I tinkered with the scanner.  I managed to see what was going on in the desert world through or around the invisibility disc.  I expect a temper tantrum.”