Dwarfs

Golden Door Chapter 21 Guards in the Deep, part 1 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Strongheart and Inaros guided David, Floren, Alden, Oren, and the elves safely to the Bailiff’s Courtyard. Mickey O’Mac stayed off to the side most of the way where he could keep an eye out for possible intruders or obstacles, but they found the way easy going and saw no sign of activity.

“Too easy,” Mickey decided. “We dare not let down our guard.”

“Most of the Castle under the Sea has been emptied,” Strongheart said. “And with the air bubble in place, the mermaids and water sprites seldom visit. Most of what is here is up on the castle walls looking for you on the outside.”

“And here we are on the inside,” Inaros said with a big elf grin. “I take it the women are in the deepest rooms.”

“Yes,” Strongheart nodded. “The fourth floor down, in a small room off the area that is one wide open, room but for the basement column supports. It is the room where they keep the forgotten things. There is bedrock beneath them so they can’t dig out and the bedrock is enchanted so the dark elves like Lady Goldenvein can’t go to ground and escape.”

“Go to ground?” David wondered.

“Dark elves, trolls and such avoid the light,” Floren explained quietly in David’s ear. “The sun can even turn some to stone, so when the sun comes up, they sink into the ground and they can move through the dirt and rocks until they find a cave, or maybe a basement, or anyway a place where they can rest until nightfall.”

“How can they make their flesh move through solid matter?” David’s scientific curiosity started acting up.

Floren scrunched up her face. There were all sorts of possible answers. Magic was a good one, but one David would never accept on face value. In the end, Floren told him, “Let us just say the flesh of the little ones is more flexible in one way or another than the mud and dust flesh of normal mortal humans.”

“Boy.” Inaros spoke and David looked up. “We have to go now and rescue your mother.”

“Is my father here?” David asked. He presently thought of his father and had in that moment the slightest glimpse of what it might be like to have responsibility for all these little ones, as Floren called them. He thought, no wonder his father lived so many lifetimes. One life could not possibly handle them all.

“Your father is somewhere, I am sure, but ladies first.” Inaros kept one hand on his cane and held his other hand out so David could step up beside him. David imagined the old man would need help with the stairs, assuming there were stairs.

“Floren.” Strongheart also spoke, but to his daughter. “You need to keep Oren and Alden here. You should be safe if you stay quiet in the courtyard.”

“Quiet? Oren and Alden? Father, by myself?” Floren certainly sounded like a teenager.

“I’ll stay and help,” Micky decided.

“Two of my soldiers will stay with you, so you boys better behave until we come and get you.” Strongheart gave them a stern look before he turned with Inaros, David, and a dozen elf warriors and went into the tower. David heard Floren behind him until the door closed.

“Sit! Stay!”

Mrs. Copperpot said Warthead had to stay outside the gate and not come into the courtyard. “All the halls in the castle have an enchantment that stretches them to accommodate to the big ones, like ogres,” she explained for James. “But Warthead is too young. Picker, Poker, and Grubby, you too. Stay here.”

“Hey!” Grubby protested.

“Will four of my men be enough?” Lord Noen asked.

“I’ll stay and help,” Pug volunteered. “My world is full of forest and grasslands. You know I am not much for buildings and underground positively gives me the creeps.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Copperpot thanked the gnome before she turned to the boys with the kind of fire in her eyes that caused the big ogre to look at his feet and caused Picker and Poker to look away. “Four guards had better be enough.” Grubby also looked away, but he whistled softly as if to say he was not listening. “Now, come along James.” Mrs. Copperpot held out her hand for him.

James moved under the old dwarf’s protective wing, but he could not help the words that came out in his softest voice. “I’m too young for this, too.”

When Lord Noen led them in they saw the light from the torches in the hall reflected off good steel and heard the voice of Strongheart. “Friend or foe? Whom do you serve?”

Lord Noen signaled his dwarfs to put down their weapons. “We serve the Kairos. Strongheart?”

“Noen?” Strongheart stepped out from the shadows down the hall. “It is good to see you free of that wicked one’s domination.”

“More like damnation,” Noen said with a ruddy grin that sprang up beneath his full beard. “I must say, I am glad to see you. I can use the help setting the women free. No telling what is down there or what kind of guards she may have in this place.”

Strongheart returned the smile and gave the shorter man a hearty slap on the back. He did not say anything, but he looked like he would not mind having a band of dwarfs at his back.

“James!” David noticed first and shouted.

“Quiet,” Inaros scolded, and David nodded, but nothing would keep him from his brother. He hugged James and James, not the touching type, nevertheless hugged him back.

“You won’t believe what happened to me,” David began, still too loud.

“Quiet,” Mrs. Copperpot repeated the word. “You will just have to tell him later. Right now, we need to be quiet.” She hushed David and David quieted.

“Later,” David whispered.

“Me too,” James agreed. At least, unlike Davey, James always seemed to whisper.

They came to the stairs, and it would be four long flights down. They stopped on each floor and looked around but found nothing and no one. David at least hoped that was a good sign, but Inaros and Mrs. Copperpot looked more worried at each stop. At the bottom of the stairs, they came to a wide room with pillars spaced equally in every direction. The pillars made it impossible to tell how big the room really was, but James and David got a good idea from the echo, especially when Inaros placed his hand over David’s mouth.

Strongheart signaled with his hands. He placed several elves to guard the stairs and along the path without a word. Noen mirrored him with his dwarfs. The last two elves and two dwarfs they told to guard the door and then tried to figure the lock. Strongheart risked a whisper.

“They are in here?”

Inaros put his hand to the door as if feeling for what might be inside. He nodded while Noen took a great whiff of air with his bulbous dwarf nose and whispered, “Yes, and I smell something else, too. We best hurry.”

Mrs. Copperpot grabbed Inaros’ hand, and Strongheart and Noen added what they had as well so the old dwarf woman could use her cooking spoon to the greatest effect. Nothing happened at first and Inaros gritted his teeth and leaned into it. Then the lock popped with a great sound that echoed everywhere. The door opened but squeaked, loudly every inch of the way. Whatever might be in that big basement room certainly knew they were there, and where they were, too.

The women all sat around a table, playing Rook, and sipping tea. It seemed a small room, but there were mats, pillows, and blankets on the floor, and a bathroom behind a back door. There also appeared to be a sink and stove in the corner with clean dishes in the drain. In all, the women made it work.

David saw his mama quietly watching the game. She sat between the goblin and the bearded dwarf wife. David felt amazed his mother was not totally freaking out, but she stood so he could run to her, and hug his mama, and cry a little. Noen went straight to his wife, Lady Biggles. Strongheart also caught Lady Lisel in a big hug and added a brief kiss. Lady Goldenvein, the dark elf stayed seated, but Ivy, the Fairy Queen stood and dropped Seabass the cat from her lap.

“Oak?” Ivy asked.

“No sign of him yet,” Inaros said. “But Beth is with him, and Chris is with Deepdigger.”

Seabass went straight to James and let out a “meow.” He had always been a verbal cat, and James picked him right up and heard him softy purr.

“We must go,” Lord Noen said to everyone, even as they heard a word shouted from the distant stairs.

“Ghouls!”

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MONDAY

David and James with the women need to escape the ghouls and get to a place of safety. But the place of safety turns out to not be so safe. Until Monday, Happy Reading

*

Golden Door Chapter 14 James and the Ogre, part 3 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

James felt groggy, but he only had to sit down for a few minutes in the rain. The ogre, and that was what it was, apparently suffered the worst of it, being thrown back by the blue lightening to crash into the cave wall. Luckily, ogres are very hard to damage, and he rather damaged the stone wall of the cave.

“Are you all right?” Grubby asked James in most uncharacteristically impish fashion. Nature would have had an imp rolling on the floor with laughter over such an encounter, but James was the son of the Kairos.

James nodded, though one hand stayed on his head. The ogre shook his head and spoke. “That little guy is powerful. I never been beat up before.”

“First time for everything,” Grubby said, and puffed out his chest a little. “Storyteller’s son.”

“But my Ma and Da said to watch the cave and don’t let in strangers.

“His name’s James. Now he’s not a stranger.”

“At least not any stranger than you guys,” James mumbled while Grubby helped him to his feet and got him out of the rain. It looked ready to pour.

“James.” The ogre caught that much. “Good to meet you.” Warthead stuck out his tremendous hand and James’ hand got completely swallowed up in the big mitt. He would have been better to shake one of Warthead’s fingers. But then, James watched the handshake because he could hardly look at the ugly puss of the ogre, and besides, he did not feel altogether certain if there might be more blue lightening. It turned out to be safe enough, and James could not imagine anything more special than making friends with an ogre, so he looked up at last, but when the ogre smiled in delight, James had to quickly look away to avoid throwing up.

“Ma and Da aren’t here,” Warthead repeated himself in his gravel-deep voice. “They gone up to the castle for special visitor, I think. I don’t rightly remember.”

“Woah!” Grubby was by the entrance to the cave. “There must be a monster storm coming. Listen to that thunder.” They heard a dull roar in the distance, but it was growing. James paid close attention and after a moment he voiced his skepticism.

“I don’t think that is thunder,” he said.

Warthead, who was not particularly able to follow their thoughts, looked around instead and pointed at something else. “Spiders.” Grubby and James looked quickly. They were at the bottom of the mountain, quite a long way, but obviously excited as if sensing they were getting close to their prey. They began to climb the hill at a rapid pace.

“James!” The word came wafting down from above with the wind and the rain.

“James!” It was Mrs. Copperpot, Picker and Poker.

“Grubby! James!” Pug was with them, and the trio in the cave had to go outside to look up.

They were soon spotted, though the dwarfs and the gnome were quite high up the mountainside above them. “Up here, James. Quick! Tsunami!” Pug pointed in the direction of the roar which was becoming very pronounced. They began to hear trees crash in the wave.

James looked for a way, but there was no easy way. The cave was carved out of a small cliff. Meanwhile, Warthead scratched his head and Grubby had his eyes glued on the spiders. He saw when they abandoned the rush up the hill and began climbing trees in an attempt to get above the onrushing water.

“Hurry James!”

“There’s no way up!” James shouted.

Grubby picked up a stone and threw it at a spider which was ahead of its fellows. It cracked against the spider’s back but did no real damage. James spun around to see. The spider was almost as big as him, and he might have screamed at the sight if the water did not come first. With a great roar and something like the sound of freight trains, the wave crashed through the last trees like a flood breaking through a levy.

“Water!” James shouted, and Warthead moved. He grabbed Grubby in one big paw and James in the other and stretched his arms as high in the air as he could, which was almost high enough for James to reach the rock ledge above the cave mouth, but not quite.

“Spider!” Grubby shouted, as the water quickly rose above the ogre’s mouth. A spider had made the jump to Warthead’s arm and zeroed in on James. James panicked, but tried kicking first, and to his surprise, he caved in the beast’s head in a way that Grubby’s stone had not. A second kick sent the spider flying off into the drink, as the water was now up to Warthead’s elbows. It actually reached to his upraised wrists, and the water stayed up for a few minutes before it began to recede almost as fast as it came in. James understood that if the tidal water did not drown them or crash them and crush their bones against something hard while coming in, it could still do the same, or drag them for miles on the way out, and just as easily.

The time went by slowly, slow enough for Pug and Mrs. Copperpot to climb down almost within reach. Mrs. Copperpot looked full of fret and worry, but Pug seemed a rock of calm and kept assuring them that everything was going to be all right.

Warthead stood that whole time with his arms raised straight up to keep Grubby and James above the water. James felt a little surprised the ogre was not brushed aside in that torrent, but he was not. He stood like the stones themselves, unmoving, even long after James imagined the poor ogre drowned and had to be dead and gone. As the water went down somewhat slowly, it felt agonizing to watch the big creature, hoping against hope for signs of life. When the water was once again below the chin and it started to pick up the pace of retreat, Warthead looked like no more than a statue, and James imagined he might stand in that pose for a thousand years. He wanted to cry, and Mrs. Copperpot did not help with her words about the ogre’s bravery and heroic stand. Then Warthead shook his head and opened his eyes.

“Warthead!” James and Grubby shouted together.

“Are the spiders gone?” Warthead asked. “That one tickled and I almost laughed.”

“But how did you?” James could not decide what to ask. “The water was up for a half hour at least, or twenty minutes or more. How?”

“I held my breath,” Warthead said, in an intuitive moment—a very rare thing in an ogre.

“Good choice.” Grubby praised the ogre’s thinking. It was a fifty-fifty proposition of Warthead coming up with the notion of holding his breath underwater.

James twisted his face. “I thought after so many minutes without oxygen the brain cells started dying.”

“No fear of that,” Grubby said, and waved off the whole problem with his hand. “He hasn’t got any to lose.”

Warthead grinned and nodded and began to wonder why he kept holding his arms straight up in the air.

It was still an hour or more before Picker and Poker found a way down from above and the water went down enough to gather in the cave entrance. The others were a bit leery of the ogre, but he seemed such a good fellow, and Mrs. Copperpot recognized how young he was. Why, converted to human ages, she imagined that Warthead might be the youngest of the lot, despite his hulking size.

“You know,” she said, as she sighed and accepted that she now had five, a full handful of boys to watch. “Now that the spiders are washed away, the path to the gate should be open.”

“At least for a little while.” Pug agreed. “And we ought to go before it gets dark.”

Mrs. Copperpot looked up at the sky where there was a genuine stroke of lightning and boom of thunder, and the rain began to strengthen. “Yes.” She agreed, before she added, “And I don’t like the look of that sky.”

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MONDAY

Chris boards the ship to cross the underground sea but the cavern wall cracks and the volcano bring up a monster from the deep while Beth flies above it all and gets to taste sweet puffberries. Until Monday. Happy Reading

*

Golden Door Chapter 14 James and the Ogre, part 2 of 3

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“Look.” Picker pointed to the sky. They saw shadows now and then since about mid-day, observable even in the darkening sky. Everyone looked. Something paced them, flying overhead, and likely several somethings, but it seemed impossible to tell what by looking up through the trees.

“I don’t like the looks of that sky.” Mrs. Copperpot repeated her comment from earlier, and while James agreed that the heavy, dark clouds closing in overhead did not look good, he now realized that even her earlier comment had been intended to disguise the fact that she saw something overhead, shadowing them. No doubt, she did not want to frighten James, as if anything could be more frightening than those snakes.

“Shh!” Pug stopped their progress. They heard a clicking sound ahead. “That’s new here,” he said. “But I am not sure what it is.”

“Not animal?” Mrs. Copperpot asked with some surprise. She felt that surely the gnome would have been aware of any animal that might make that sound.

“Not machine.” James breathed in his quietest voice. At least not any machine sound he ever heard. This click-clicksounded like someone tapping sticks together, and he said not machine because he kept trying to think of what, other than an animal, might make such a sound.

Click-click. It became pronounced, and they began to hear a kind of chittering with it. It sounded like a hundred squirrels tapping their teeth all at the same time.

“Better wait here while I check see.” Pug said, and not even Mrs. Copperpot would argue with that good advice.

They waited for what seemed like a long time, but what was probably a rather short time. The clicking never went away, though it did not sound like it got any closer. The chittering sound came and went, but it also seemed to keep its distance. Then there came a terrible crashing though the bushes, and James and the boys backed up and prepared to climb or run behind trees, while Mrs. Copperpot pulled out her magical spoon, apparently, her only weapon. What came from the woods was a great bear, and it reared up momentarily as it reached the path. Mrs. Copperpot almost did something to the beast but held back just long enough to see the beast return to all fours and Pug seated firmly on the beast’s neck. Even as Pug shouted, Mrs. Copperpot already scooped up Picker and Poker, one for each arm, who protested being treated like sacks of flower.

“Hurry! Get up! Spiders coming!” Those were Pug’s words and all the explanation they needed. Mrs. Copperpot leapt on the bear’s back and James climbed most of the way up, holding on to Mrs. Copperpot’s dress as the bear passed by, but barely paused. Only Grubby looked close to missing the ride.

“Wait up!” Grubby yelled, but Pug would not stop, and neither would the bear as the clicking and chittering sound came suddenly much nearer.

“Grubby!” James yelled back and grabbing tight with one hand to a great tuft of bear hair, which the bear hardly felt, he reached his other hand out and back as far as he could. Grubby ran, and in one great effort of speed, he managed to grab hold of James’ hand. They rode that way for a little bit as the sound of clicking and chittering receded into the distance. Grubby bounced on his feet like a frog while James held on as well as he could, but for all their effort, the imp seemed unable to get up on the bear’s rump. Finally, James thought to slide back a little to better help the imp, only his grip on the bear’s back slipped altogether and both he and Grubby went teetering off into the bushes. The bear did not stop. The twins kept yelling and so they likely did not hear the boys fall, and neither did they see them, looking only ahead toward safety.

“Ugh!” Grubby rubbed his head. “I think I smashed into the tree, but lucky it was only my head.”

James also moaned, but he had crashed into a bush, which frankly, broke his fall. Otherwise, he certainly would have broken something else. “Where are we?” James looked back to be sure they were out of range of the spiders, even as he got slowly to his feet. Grubby took a good look around.

“I think I know,” he said. “This is the ogre way. Come on. I’ll introduce you to a friend of mine.” Grubby also looked back in the spider direction. “We better hurry,” he added as he started off at a good pace. James had to hustle, but he felt well worn by then and could not really keep up with the imp who might not have had elf speed, but certainly moved faster at a jog than James could run.

“Wait up.” James had to call after a little way, but Grubby did not hear or did not listen. James stopped anyway, put his hands on his knees, and took a number of deep breaths. It did not take long for the young man to recover, but he thought he better walk after that, at least for a little while.

James did not feel happy about being left alone in the woods again, especially on the edge of the Craggy Mountains and ogre land. Then again, he had never seen an ogre. He had seen spiders and imagined they were giant spiders, so he really had no choice in the direction he went. He came to the first stone filled rise almost immediately, and he thought he saw where the path wound its way up between the stones; but it appeared hard to tell. He decided to sniff. He looked for Grubby and figured that Mrs. Copperpot and the others were likely out of range by then. This time he decided to trust his sixth sense.

“A little to the left,” he said out loud to himself.  It appeared as if Grubby had deviated off the main path about halfway up the rise. James began to climb, sometimes needing his hands to help pull himself up, and in this way he eventually came to where a smaller path separated from the main ogre way. “Grubby,” he said out loud, pointed down the smaller path and started out that way without hesitation.

The way remained rough, mostly up hill, and James began to wonder if maybe he was in the mountains already. He finally had to stop and sit on a rock for a fifteen-minute break. Of course, he saw the shadows pass overhead the minute he stopped, but he ignored them with the hope that they would go away. When they did not, he moved on, thinking that his break seemed like a very short fifteen minutes.

James paused. He raised his head and sniffed, almost without thinking about it. His mind kept thinking of Grubby and he felt a strong sense that Grubby was close, up off the left-hand side of the trail. Not far from there, he came to a place on the side of the mountain covered with stone and the occasional hardy bush. He found a cave a little bit further up the side, and it looked dark. James looked overhead. The sky also seriously started darkening now, like it might start raining at any moment. James tried to convince himself that the cave looked dark because of the sky. Then a few drops of water fell on his head, and he decided he had no choice. He did not realize that Grubby was still pulling him forward.

James got to the cave entrance before the downpour started, and then he heard a voice.

“Who is the stranger in my door.” The voice sounded terribly deep and frightening to hear. James dutifully screamed.

The deep voice screamed in echo of James’ sentiment, and James caught a glimpse of a giant who put his hands to his ears while James started to scramble away. Unfortunately, the rocky side of the hill had not been designed for a rapid escape. A giant fist shot out of the cave, right over James’ head, and would have smashed James flatter than a cracker if it hadn’t bounced off. There were great blue sparks, like lightening, that passed between the giant’s fist and the boy’s head. At the same time, Grubby hollered as loud as he could.

“No, Warthead! No!” He yelled too late.

Golden Door Chapter 10 James and the Tree part 2 of 2

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The imp became the first to recover. “Aw. I’m not scared of her,” he said. He looked back at the twins for support, which they gave by nodding their heads, though they looked plenty scared.

Tekos turned serious. “She should scare you.” He whispered in a James sort of soft voice. Then he spoke up. “Back in the day, we were considered lesser gods, ourselves, though not immortal like the Gods, and yet this one even scares me.” It felt like a big admission.

“Well, we’re not afraid.” Grubby the imp tried again.

“I am,” James said. He remembered the witch and the arm half-way into the room, reaching for his neck. He shuddered.

“Me, too,” one of the dwarf twins admitted.

“And me, too,” the other echoed.

“We all are.” Mrs. Copperpot nodded and looked ever so stern. “But we still have to do what we can while we are able. The Lord Kairos is depending on us. There is no one else.” She paused to explain their mission to Tekos; that they were headed to the castle on the hill to try and set Lord Noen free and release the prisoners from the dungeon if they could.

With that said, Tekos leaned down to James and smiled, his wooden face crackling with the movement. He laid a gentle, though bark-rough hand against James’ cheek. “But I would not see you go defenseless into the lion’s den,” he said. He lifted his hand to James’ head, and his eyes went wide. “Son, I see that you have already been given every talent and connection to the dwarfs and those that walk the earth in between the light and the dark. There is much that you will have to discover and learn, but there is one thing I can activate in you.” He paused and appeared determined. “I have no authority to change you into a lion, you understand. I may not be able to affect the son of the Kairos at all, lesser god though I be. But I think it would be good to keep up with these other misbehavers, and glamour your way to the castle. Yes, I think you ought to be able to put on a good glamour when you have a mind.” He took his hand away as if already finished with his work, and the twins pushed forward.

“Try it out,” they echoed each other again.

James did not understand. “What’s a glamour?” he asked.

“An illusion,” Tekos responded.

“It’s how we move about sometimes when we are in substance form like now,” Mrs. Copperpot began to explain, but stopped when she saw it did not help.

Grubby pushed the twins back behind him and spoke. “Like when some human person comes tromping through the woods, and there isn’t time to go invisible-like, we make an illusion.” Grubby stepped back, and James suddenly saw a bush of thorns where the imp had been. “What dumb mortal is going to guess I’m not a real bush?” The bush finished the comment.

“Try it out,” the twins said again, though they kept back as if even they seemed reluctant to get too close to the thorns.

“It’s easy,” Grubby said, and he reappeared as the bush disappeared.

“But.”

“Just think about what you want to be,” Tekos said, gently. He laid a very long fingered hand on James’ shoulder.

“Just think,” Mrs. Copperpot urged. “But think with your belly, not with your head.” She stopped. She imagined she would confuse the boy again; but in this case, James understood what she said, or he thought he did. He did not think of it exactly. He more felt it. Then he was not there, but aware of the illusion which was a lion, and he roared loud enough to echo through the forest. The twins jumped behind a tree, and Grubby swallowed hard. Even Mrs. Copperpot looked startled, but Tekos merely smiled.

“And now the glamour will remain as long as you want,” Tekos explained while James licked his hand like Seabass his cat so often did; and the illusion lion licked its paw and looked every bit like a real lion. “You must think yourself James again to come back.”

The inevitable thought came. What If I can’t do that? But James tried, and it turned out to be very easy.

“That was great. I’m Picker.” The head stuck out from behind the tree.

“That was really great. I’m Poker.” The other called down from the third branch above. The young one quickly climbed down, while James studied them. He decided that apart from their short stature, not unusual for boys, the only way he could distinguish them from the purely human boys in his school was the fact that they both sported the beginnings of serious beards. Otherwise, they looked like perfectly normal, dark-haired, bright-eyed boys.

“’sall right,” Grubby admitted, but he looked impressed. Grubby, on the other hand, had a bulbous nose that seemed a bit too big for a human nose, and bulgy eyes which looked more nearly like little saucers. He did not exactly look non-human, but then he did not exactly look human, either.

James had a thought. “Will you come with us to the castle and help rescue everyone?” he asked before anyone could stop him.

“Oh, no, dear,” Mrs. Copperpot spoke quickly. “It’ll be dangerous enough just for the two of us.”

“Oh, please.” Tekos spoke almost as quickly. “My dear Mrs. Copperpot, you are a far better choice to watch these young ruffians than I. I understand the danger,” he assured her. “But if they do not go somewhere, I fear you may return to find no forest at all. You may find nothing but cinders.” He looked cross as he pulled a small broken branch from Poker’s shirt, and then snatched several light-anywhere matches from Grubby’s pocket with such speed and dexterity, the young imp could not do anything but shout.

“Hey!”

“Please, my dear Lady Copperpot. I must insist.” Tekos looked stubborn. One might say he looked rooted in that position.

“Yes, my Lord.” Mrs. Copperpot would not argue, but she had something more to say. “You three had better mind,” she insisted, shook her finger at them and lingered on the imp.

“We will.” Picker and Poker readily agreed, and even the imp nodded.

“Will you come with us?” James asked the dryad.

“Alas,” Tekos said in his most tender voice. “Apart from an invitation and under the protection of Lady Alice, the Kairos, your father, I cannot. Like the Naiads and their springs and grottos, and the Oreads and their stones and mountains, I am bound to the trees. I cannot go far from my roots, you see?”

“I see,” James said, but he felt disappointed to hear it. He imagined this great, tall tree-man might come in very handy against whatever they faced.

“Well, then,” Mrs. Copperpot said, as she came to grips with her extended responsibilities. “Let’s be off. Time is short, and there is a ways to go yet to reach the castle.” She reached out one hand, and the dwarf twins came forward. Grubby held back a bit, until James took the imp’s arm in encouragement. Grubby smiled.

“Son of the Kairos, indeed,” Tekos said, with his own creaking smile. He no sooner finished speaking, however, when the ground began to tremble. It felt like an aftershock from the previous night’s earthquake, perhaps, but this one felt stronger than the other, and it went on longer as well. Everyone fell to the ground. The twins crawled up beside the bigger dwarf, and the imp all but buried his head in the dirt. James tried not to scream, even as he tried not to get sick. The crashing of trees started in the forest, and the voice of Tekos rose-up.

“Hold to your roots! Keep a deep grip!” It felt hard to tell what or whom he spoke to as a nearby tree began to topple toward them. James got a good look, but afterwards, he could not say if the two big branches happened to be in the right place to catch the tree before it crushed them, or if the branches sort of grew and reached out to grab their fallen comrade. Then the earthquake subsided, and the earth stilled.

As soon as she caught her breath, Mrs. Copperpot stood. “Come,” she said. She looked up briefly as a shadow crossed the clearing. “Time is short.” The young ones followed, and only after reaching the path did James think to look back and say, “Thank you.”

“Don’t be a stranger.” James heard Tekos, either on the air or in his mind, but he could see nothing but trees.

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MONDAY

Chris discovers there are dangers in the dark, and Beth could tell him there are dangers in the bright sunshine as well. Until Monday, Happy Reading

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Golden Door Chapter 8 Morning Matters, part 2 of 2

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“But we only saw one castle,” David said. He tried to turn his mind from the sight of Ashtoreth.

“Castles.” Inaros underlined the plural.

“Yes, you see, this place is in the second heavens, which is not like on earth under the first heavens. Things are different here.” Mrs. Aster spoke quickly.

“An understatement,” Chris muttered, and James got a very broad grin.

Deathwalker held up his hand for quiet before he tried to explain. “There is only one castle, but four castles in a sense. It is all in how you look at it. In the same way, there is only one island, but many, many islands in the sea. They are separate islands, so you can sail to them and all the way around them, but you can also go from one island to the next without ever crossing the water.”

Mrs. Copperpot interrupted and spoke to James and to all by extension. “Most of the monsters now on Castle Isle belong on other islands, but the demon-goddess is now controlling the doors and has Avalon cut off from the Earth, and she has made the innumerable islands of Avalon leak into each other. She is using the monsters to guard the ways to the castles.”

“Enough.” Deathwalker regained the floor. “So there is one castle, but four that are one and the same. There is the Castle on the hill that you have seen. It is called Castle Perilous or Castle Turning or the Castle of the Kairos or Nameless’ Castle.” Mrs. Copperpot cleared her throat to stop the litany. Deathwalker swallowed before he continued. “Yes, it is where the spirits of the Earth reside and where the Kairos usually makes his or her home, but then there are three other castles as well. One is the castle under the earth, Castle Sidhe or the Castle of Darkness, you know, Danna’s Castle.” He paused long enough to stare at Mrs. Copperpot before the next cough. “The castle underground is where the dark elves and fire sprites reside. Lord Deepdigger is master there right now, and his Lady Goldenvein is in the dungeon.”

“He has his own lady in the dungeon?” Beth asked.

Deathwalker waved off the question. “He is enchanted. All the Lords of the Dias are enchanted, and the ladies are all in the dungeon. We think the ladies are all together in the same rooms with your mother, but who can know?”

“You forgot Lord Noen, the Dwarf King is in Nameless’ Castle and his lady is Lady Biggles,” Mrs. Aster interjected.

“Yes, and the Castle in the Clouds, the Castle in the Sky, the Castle of Light, Junior’s place is presently ruled by Lord Oak of the fee.”

“Fairies,” Mrs. Aster whispered.

“It is where the sprites of the air live, and Lord Oak’s lady is Queen Ivy.” Deathwalker nodded to Mrs. Aster and then looked at a contemplative Inaros. “The fourth castle is called the Golden Palace under the sea where Amphitrite used to rule over the winds and waves. Lord Galadren, the Elf King has been made ruler over the water sprites and mere people. He did the most to resist Ashtoreth and his punishment is to be assigned under the sea.”

“His lady?” Chris asked.

“Lisel.” Deathwalker said.

Inaros spoke. “Galadren means strong heart, and he was very hard to enchant, and Lisel means beauty, and that she surely is. My own lord and lady confined to live with the seaweed.” He shook his head.

Mrs. Copperpot rapped her spoon on the table in front of the old man. “I should say Lord Sweetwater and Lady Wavemaker might take exception to your sentiment.”

“To those it suits, dear Lady. To those it suits.”

“Anyway.” Mrs. Aster took the floor again by fluttering down to stand on the table. “We thought we might be able to liberate one or more of the lords from their enchantment and they might know a way to overcome the demon-goddess. After all, and I mean no offense, but what can a bunch of old has-bins and human children do against the likes of her, even if you are the children of the Kairos.”

“Hey. That’s right.” David sat up and looked pleased, as if two and two just connected in his mind.

“That makes us what?” Chris asked. He was going to say nothing special, but Inaros spoke first.

“Like a prince of the realm, and a princess for Miss Beth, in whose blood runs all the power of the rightful king.” He tipped his hat toward Beth.

“More like demigods,” Deathwalker said quietly to Chris and James, but he found his hand slapped by Mrs. Copperpot’s spoon. He popped his hand into his big mouth while she spoke.

“Truth is, if you don’t want to do anything, we can’t make you even if we had all of the power of the little ones on earth.”

“You’re not has-bins.” David backed-up in the conversation.

“Kind of you to say.” Inaros smiled for him.

“I want my mom safe and my dad well,” James said, quietly. Beth nodded, and Chris spoke for the group.

“We’re in,” he said.

Mrs. Aster likewise looked around the table. “As are we,” she said, and it would have been a beautiful moment if Deathwalker had not removed his hand from his mouth to mumble.

“Probably in for the dungeons.” He jumped to get away from the cooking spoon.

“Beth.” Mrs. Aster ignored the exchange and got Beth’s attention. “You are the eldest. We are first.” They all looked again at the open door and the garden-like scene outside.

“It doesn’t look too bad in daylight,” David admitted.

Beth walked to the doorway but hesitated while Mrs. Aster turned back to the others. “We’ll meet you in the Castle in the sky,” she said. They moved through, and the door closed.

“Well, Gentlemen,” Inaros said. “And the ever-blessed Mrs. Copperpot. Who shall go next?”

The thump came and the door opened on pitch blackness. “Looks like the decision has already been made,” Deathwalker said, still out of reach of the cooking spoon. “Come on, Chris.”

“But it is totally dark in there. I can’t see a thing,” Chris protested.

“Now that Holy One gave you eyes.” Deathwalker told him. “And I will admit that those creatures know what they are doing, so I would guess all you have to do is use them. Try looking at the dark in a different sort of way.”

Of course, that honestly explained nothing, but suddenly Chris said, “Wow!” in a way that suggested he saw something, and they stepped through the door together, and the door closed.

“You go next,” James said.

“No.” David immediately protested. “You go.”

James shook his head, but then the next thump came, and the door opened on a real forest scene. They saw a path through the trees, but otherwise the forest looked dark and thick with plenty of bushes and large clumps of fallen leaves at ground level.

“I think I know this place,” Mrs. Copperpot said, as she stepped up for a closer look.

Inaros put his old hand on David’s shoulder. “I think we will call it ladies first,” he said.

Mrs. Copperpot turned around. “Come along, James. At least you won’t starve.” She held out her hand. James reluctantly took it as he looked at his brother. Then he broke free and came back to give David a hug and whisper in David’s ear.

“Good luck. If I can do it, so can you,” he said, and he turned and rushed out to follow Mrs. Copperpot before he changed his own mind.

David nodded, and then he set his courage and he became determined to see things through. His face became stern and stubborn. Inaros noticed but said nothing as the thump came one more time. This time the door exposed a view that looked more like highlands. The trees were strewn sparsely among great rocks and boulders and heather of some kind for beneath the feet. Many of the trees were evergreen trees, and in all they smelled the aroma of cold stone and late spring flowers where spring came later in the highlands. David did not look encouraged by the scene, despite his determination. He hated camping out, but Inaros slipped his arm all the way around David’s shoulder and began to walk, alternately leaning on his stick and the boy.

“Reminds me of Nova Scotia where I sailed with the great Captain Hawk on the Golden Hawk.” He lifted his cane to use again as a pretend sword and leaned more heavily on David as he did. David, kind heart that he was, kept the man upright and helped as much he could.

“Why was he called Captain Hawk, because of the ship, the Golden Hawk?” David asked.

“No,” Inaros said. “It was because he had a great aquiline nose.” He used his cane hand to represent the nose with his fingers. “Made him look a bit like a hawk.” He laughed. “Elizabeth loved him for his quick wit, you know.” Then to David’s curious look, he responded. “The queen, boy. The queen.”

David looked around suddenly, but they were already outside, and the golden door had gone.

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

MONDAY

David gets in trouble with a fish and James has a fine conversation with a tree on Monday. Until then, Happy Reading

*

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

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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 16 Good Men, part 4 of 4

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Kirstie

“Though enough of these men are young and untried,” she told the king. “Don’t expect too much from some of them.”

“As long as they hold the line and push forward when the time comes.”

Kirstie understood but thought to add one thing. “If we are successful and the men go home enriched, all will be well. but if we are unsuccessful, don’t expect the Trondelag to come up with so many men again.”

“That is the way with battles and wars,” the king answered.

“Just so we understand, I cannot do the impossible.”

“You have not disappointed me so far.” the king smiled, and Kirstie turned to a map spread out on the table.

“So, what are we looking at? Where are the Danes and how many?”

“They are everywhere and more than I care to count.”

The king was moderately successful that year. The Danes were pushed off the Oslo Fjord, but they did not go far away. They would push in again and Fairhair would drive them back again. That area would not get resolved for at least three hundred years.

Somehow, between the fighting years, Kirstie managed another baby, a girl she called Heidi. She said she named her baby after the Valkyrie who started it all, or maybe the nice, peaceful girl on the mountain who live with her grandfather. They also squeezed in another summer trip to Northumberland.

Kirstie went three times to fight for the king. She brought six hundred and thirty on the second trip, and this time the Swedes joined with them against the Danes. They seriously pushed the Danes back that year. The third time, seven hundred and three followed her, only this time they fought the Swedes, or at least the Geats. It got tiresome, but as long as the men were successful enough to bring home some coins and some pillaged goods, there were some that would be willing.

Kirstie turned thirty on that third trip, and the king kept them fighting, until Kirstie got word there was trouble at home. Fortunately, Sigurd was of age. He fought with them the last time along with his friend Haakon, the king’s son. They said they learned a lot from Kirstie, and the king was pleased. On this third time, Kirstie told Sigurd she had to go but it was time for him to fly. Haakon flapped his arms like a bird and laughed, but they understood.

Kirstie and Wilam got a ride home with Captain Frode. The man got his own ship, and was teaching his son, Knud, the ways of the sea. He had long since moved to Nidaross and parted on the most friendly terms with Captain Rune Stenson, who himself moved to the town at the mouth of the Nid River. Strindlos was becoming a ghost town where only the determined few were hanging on.

Chief Kerga still oversaw the village. Many of the village elders remained, though for the most part their good land was up by the Varnes River, and they mostly counted themselves as men of Varnes. The Volva, Mother Vrya, and the Witcher Women held on, though Mother Vrya could hardly hobble down the road and appeared older than dirt. That meant Inga stayed in the town, if only to take care of old Mother Vrya. For all practical purposes, Inga had become the Volva for the community, for Nidaross, and to some extent, for the whole Fjord, not the least because of her close association to Kirstie.

Kirstie bought several more farms as people moved out. She set her childhood friend up in a farm across the road from the place of the Witcher Women. It had much better land for growing crops and keeping the cows and some sheep. Thoren and Hilda were grateful. Of course, Hilda had her own crew of children by then and needed the better land. The fact that it put Hodur just down the road from his best friend Soren was a plus. For Kirstie, she became something like a noblewoman. She was land rich and cash poor.

For better or worse, Kirstie became something of a ruler, in the loosest sense of the word, for the whole of the Trondelag. She certainly became one of the main leaders for several reasons. Men learned what a hag was during the Vanlil invasion, a terrible hairy monster that could shred a man better than a bear. Kirstie was the hag hunter, and a successful one. Some men were afraid of her. Then, she killed Captain Ulf at Lindisfarne. Lots of men looked to Ulf or followed him on raids. When she slew the man, she took over that group leadership, or at least they dared not cross her. Then, it was not exactly a secret, though men only talked about it in whispers, but Kirstie had some unaccountable power over the things of legend. The dwarfs and elves, light and dark, seemed to do what she wanted. She had an actual giant working on her farm for a time. She was a fire starter and had a deep connection to water and the sea. The sea, and even the storms bent to her will. She could call the fish to surrender themselves to her boat and to the fire in her fingertips. Such magic had not been seen in the Norse lands in ages, if ever. Needless to say, when she talked, the men listened. Of course, it was not something she especially wanted, but it was thrust upon her, as the man once said. Her husband being the son of Halfdan Ragnarsson did not hurt.

When Kirstie returned home and cleaned up the mess that was made, she feared being discovered at last. The king’s captain, Engle Bronson was involved, and though he died, he finally had the proof that Kirstie was indeed the Kairos, and no doubt passed that word on to Bieger. Bronson was a servant of the Masters as was his skipari, Bieger, and so were the king’s assassins, Lind, and Gruden, who would no doubt come after her. Kirstie did not want to sound paranoid, but those four had been searching for her, the Kairos-her, for the past twenty years. The thing is, they could never prove it or be sure. She seemed such a good little Viking. Now they knew. Her days in Strindlos, indeed in Scandinavia were numbered.

“So, we move to Northumberland,” Wilam said. The grandparents, my parents won’t be around much longer. My brothers, Ecgberht and Godric are more than capable of running the farm. They basically do that already, but I can help. I have learned being here that I am something of a farmer after all.”

“I am sorry about that,” Kirstie said, and rubbed her nose. “You wanted to be a navigator on a ship and have adventures, and I made you pick up a plow and a hoe.”

Wilam laughed. “I can’t imagine a more adventurous life than following you around. Besides, I got what I wanted.” He kissed her forehead and she smiled and pulled closer to him.

“You get to go again,” she said, without explaining. She sneezed. She pulled back and sneezed again.

“Are you all right?” Wilam asked.

Kirstie nodded. “I may be coming down with a cold,” she said.

“Maybe we should go to bed so you can rest,” he suggested.

“What? You got me all interested with you got what you wanted and then you just want to go sleep?” She sneezed again and found a cloth to blow her nose.

“Come on,” he said, and put her to bed.

Medieval 6: K and Y 14 And Back Again, part 2 of 2

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Kirstie

When they got to Brant’s house, Soren came running. He gave Wilam a big hug. Kirstie put her hands on her hips and huffed. “He is my son too,” Wilam said, and after a second, Kirstie nodded, and thought that thanks to Wilam, the boy had a family. That was important, and not something Kirstie could give him. She would not mind giving him a baby sister, though. She looked again at Wilam and had all sorts of thoughts.

Soren took Yrsa’s hand as they walked into the house. He wanted to introduce Yrsa to his grandma and grandpa, and his other grandma, and his three uncles, though they kept trying to tell him only two were actual uncles.

“I might as well be invisible,” Kirstie said.

“Not to me.” Wilam slipped his arm around her shoulders.

They went inside, and on sight of Wilam, his mother Wilburg began to cry for Mary Katherine. They sent word, and some of the crew that lived in Lucker certainly spread the news, but seeing her eldest son triggered some serious tears in the woman, and her lifelong friend Eadgyd cried some with her.

Kirstie left Wilam’s protective arm to hug both women. She took Soren and Yrsa out back to check on Birdie and Missus Kettle. The dwarf wives appeared content with their work, but Kirstie knew that was not exactly true.

“You know,” Birdie said. “Now, after a month, with Wilburg’s arm mostly healed, and Eadgyd’s leg healed to where she can get around, I just don’t feel needed anymore.” She sighed a great sigh and looked down at the mud that surrounded the kitchen area.

“Not me,” Missus Kettle the cook said. “I got my hands full feeding four boys and the old man. Wilburg and Eadgyd say they don’t know what they would do without me, or how I manage to cook so much so well. I will say, though, it would help if I had Buckles, my husband here. He is a most excellent hunter and could help supplement these meagre rations I have to work with.”

Kirstie counted. “Hrothgar, Ecgberht, and Godric. Four boys?”

“Soren counts,” she said. “He is getting to be a good little eater.”

Of course. How could she forget her own son? She smiled for him and turned to the dwarf wives. “So, here is what we will do.” She hugged Birdie before she clapped her hands. Birdie went back to Norway, to her husband Booturn and Buckles appeared by his wife.

Buckles shouted for a moment. Missus Kettle hit him on the head with her cooking spook and he spouted, “Oh, it’s you.”

It did not take long to explain the situation, and Buckles said he would be glad to help out. Missus Kettle banged her cooking spoon against the big kettle on the fire and all three boys showed up. She had them well trained. “Hrothgar, Ecgberht, and Godric. This is Buckles. He is an excellent hunter and trapper, and he will teach you, if you want to learn.”

“What happened to Birdie?” Ecgberht asked.

“She had to go home,” Kirstie answered.

“We didn’t even get to say goodbye?” Godric whined.

“I am sure she will miss you too,” Kirstie said. “But now, you need to listen to Buckles here. He is Missus Kettle’s husband and will help keep the food on the fire.”

“Good thing,” Hrothgar said. “With Father Espen and his bad knee, we could use the help. Our supplies are running a bit thin.”

“Buckles will also go with you when it is time to harvest the crops on Espen’s farm, maybe in a month or so. That should help see us through the winter.”

“Some for God, some for the tax, some to eat, and some to sell is what I always try to get from my farm,” Espen said as he hobbled outside to take a seat by the fire. “Don’t know how I’m going to be able to plant again in the spring. I don’t know.”

Kirstie quickly introduced Buckles, and Buckles spoke. “The lady has asked me to help and that is what I intend to do. We will work out the spring in the spring. First, we got a fall harvest to plan, and then the winter meat to feed this lot.” He sounded very reassuring and did not have a single complaint about having so much work to do. It was very un-dwarf-like. “I hope you don’t mind if I teach your sons a thing or two about the hunt.”

Espen slowly nodded as Buckles smiled. “I would appreciate that very much,” Espen said, and almost went to tears as he thought with his busted knee, he might never be able to teach his sons as a good father should. Ecgberht, at seventeen, had the basics, but Godric at fourteen hardly learned how to string his bow and properly hold his spear.

Wilam and Brant came to the back door, and Brant said, “We need to do it.”

“Do what?” Kirstie asked.

“We are packing everyone up and moving back to the farm,” Wilam said.

“Now that the immediate threat of Vikings is over, the farm has food to harvest for the winter and plenty of trees nearby for firewood and to hunt,” Brant said.

“Not to mention the farmhouse has more room, and the Barn is big and can be fixed up for living quarters,” Wilam added.

“I don’t know where the animals might be,” Espen interrupted. “Probably taken by the neighbors or stolen.”

Wilam and Kirstie both looked at Yrsa and she opened up. “I asked Lord Marsham. Lupen and Flora, a very nice couple volunteered to watch the farm over this last month. They are very good with the animals.”

“Couple of skinny doodles.” Buckles shrugged like he did not mind too much. “No offence, Princess,” he added for Yrsa.

Kirstie just stared at Yrsa until Yrsa defended herself. “Lady. Alm and I have been overseeing your farm for years now. We have gotten very good at knowing who will enjoy the work and do a good job. Lupen and Flora have even gotten a few local gnomes to help. Everything will be in good shape when we arrive.”

Kirstie nodded as Soren finally climbed up into her lap and gave her a hug. “We are going back to the farm,” she told him.

“Are we going home?” Soren asked. He sounded a little homesick, but also like he did not want to lose his grandparents and uncles. Kirstie just hugged him back.

It took three days to close up the house in Lucker and move everyone to Ellingham. The neighbors were glad to see them, and welcomed Brant, Hrothgar, and Eadgyd as family. Most already knew Brant. It took another week to get settled in, but then the routine of plain old farm work took over and kept them busy enough.

Kirstie imagined she became pregnant in September. She felt certain in October, but she did not say anything until November, after the harvest. Wilam got excited like a child at Christmas. Kirstie just smiled a lot. She figured she would deliver either June fifteenth or July fifteenth, although last time, Inga calculated her due date as March fifteenth and Soren was born on the sixth, so maybe she delivered a week early. July fifteenth was most likely, but she would not mind June. She should be home well before then, she imagined.

The fall went by fast, and the winter dragged, as winters do. As much as Soren loved his grandparents and uncles, he got terribly bored and ready to go home by his birthday on the sixth of March. Brant and Wilam set things up in the fall. Despite the Viking raid, the smithies kept their forges hot and produced some fine goods for trade. In March, they only had to collect it all and get it to Captain Olaf in Bamburgh.

Medieval 6: K and Y 11 The Chase, part 1 of 2

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Kirstie

Gathering men proved difficult. Most of those who were alive were too old or too young, or they were too busy grieving their losses and being afraid. Some wanted revenge, so they did gather some, about twenty-five or so. Most could not ride, even if they had the horses, so they were stuck moving on foot, just like the Vikings. Kirstie could only hope that the mules and oxen pulling the Viking wagons would slow them down enough so they could be caught.

Wilam caught up with Kirstie in the village center. “I sent a man on Brant’s horse to Lucker to see if he can raise more men. I told him the route, being the road to the coast, so they can find us. Are you sure they will stick to the road?”

Kirstie nodded. “Fairly sure. They have wagons. They know from the last time that the nearest fortress is hours away, and the nearest Manor house with soldiers is also a long way. They are not worried about an army from Bamburgh. They figure they will be gone before men can be fetched from Bamburgh.”

“The coastal watch might catch them,” one man suggested, but Kirstie shot down that idea.

“The coastal watch might call up forty men or so after a couple of hours, but we are talking at least three shiploads of Vikings. That is maybe a hundred and forty warriors. Even the coastal watch would have to wait for reinforcements, and by then the Vikings will be long gone.”

“So why are we going after them with just twenty-five men?” One man raised his voice and several men sounded like they might back out of going.

Kirstie had to get up on the steps to talk to all the men. She called to her battleaxe and her shield. They came to her back and her sword automatically shifted to her hip to make room, and she yelled. “I once stood down four hundred men by myself on the island of Lindisfarne. We will be the reinforcements for the coastal watch, plus men will come from Lucker to join us. If we move now, we can catch them before they go to sea. Are we ready?”

Most men mumbled, “Yes,” and “I guess so.” But when Kirstie started down the road, the men fell in behind. One hustled to her side and smiled.

“You are the woman of legend,” he said. “I heard the story as the bards tell it. We all have.”

Kirstie looked up at Wilam on horseback to see if he was listening in. She told the man, “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

When they got about half-way to the coast, they had to stop. A rider caught up with them. They waited for some thirty-five men to join them. Brant came with them, and he apparently got his horse back. They had sixty men at that point, and twenty were on horseback, so Kirstie called the horsemen to her. She had an idea.

“Is there a back way to the coast that does not run along this main highway?”

“Several,” the men said. “But they wind more through farms and such and take longer to get there.”

“But not so long on horseback as on foot.”

“No. Not so long.” The men agreed.

“And how many of you know the coast and the people who still live there? Do you know the coastal watch people?” Most of them knew someone. “So here is what I recommend. Ride ahead. We will start marching again, but you ride ahead until you spot the Vikings on the road. Then ride around them and raise the coastal watch and as many others as you can get to come out and block the road just before the coast. Don’t let them get on the north-south coastal road or they will elude us. But send at least two or three men back to us to let us know how far away we are and whether we need to hurry.”

“We will have them surrounded,” Wilam said.

“Not exactly,” Kirstie answered. “They might still outnumber us. But we should have the road blocked in hopefully a strong defensive position and might negotiate to get back the hostages. And if they try to escape by cutting across country, they will have to abandon their wagons.”

“Right,” Brant said and gave the horsemen no choice. They mounted and rode off at all speed, and Kirstie started the rest of the group moving again. about an hour later, three men came riding up to report. The Vikings were about an hour ahead. The coastal watch had the road blocked, and if they hurried, they could trap them on the road.

They hurried, but when they arrived at the expected place, they found only the men from the coast there. The Vikings had vanished.

Brant, Wilam, and two men rode out from the other side. The coastal men spoke to the leaders from Ellingham and Lucker, and Kirstie. Kirstie had to yell to be heard.

“Is there a cutoff?” the men paused and Kirstie spoke. “Is there a trail or path that cuts the corner from this road to the coastal road?” The men looked at each other, and one of the coastal watch said there was.

“But it is not easy to find. How could they even know about it?”

“Hostages,” Brant figured it out, and the men instantly understood.

“We might still be able to catch them,” Kirstie said. She looked at the men on horseback and yelled at the one she recognized. “Hrothgar, give me your horse. You need to hurry these men as much as you can.”

Hrothgar looked like he did not want to do that. He looked at his big brother, Brant, but Wilam just scowled and said, “You heard my wife. Hurry up.”

Hrothgar got down reluctantly, and Kirstie mounted the horse. She knew how to do that much. Then she traded places again with the Princess and rode off quickly before the men could get a good look at her. The rest of the men on horseback, now about thirty, took a few minutes to catch up. The other ninety or so men on foot would come along more slowly.

The Vikings got to the coastal road before the horsemen arrived. It took another half hour to find the place where the longships were hidden. The Vikings were loading their ships and abandoning the mules and wagons. One man and two horses took arrows from the dozen that shot out from the rocky ridge overlooking the inlet and the ships. The riders had to pull back and get down behind some trees.

“Damn,” Kirstie swore in English and followed up with several words from several languages unknown to the men that were there. They all understood the sentiment. Some men had bows, but the distance was too great for their arrows. It meant the men in the rocks could not reach them with any more arrows either, so it became a standoff.

While Brant and a couple of elders tried to figure out how to get around and dislodge the men in the rocks. the Princess stepped aside to close her eyes and reach out with her thoughts. She found all sorts of little ones watching the events transpire, but they were not in any better position to disrupt the Vikings than the men. The young elf lord Marsham had a group up from the southern coast that lived near the mouth of the Coquet River. Dwarfs under the leadership of Warthog, son of Piebald were marching down from the Cheviot Hills. A fairy troop under Hassel and Lady Heath, daughter of May and Pinewood from the Till River were the first to arrive.

Hassel got there first and moved without asking permission. His troop, which the Vikings probably took to be a flock of birds, came to the rocks, got big, and shot half of the Vikings before they could abandon their position. The other half went down when they tried to run away. Before the fairies could move on the ships, Kirstie, who had come back to her own life sent the mental message that the fairies needed to stop and come to her. She became very afraid that they might be injured if they pressed too hard. Even as she feared, a blast of fire like from a flamethrower came from the ships and covered the rocks. The fairies got small and ducked down in the cracks and crevasses, but even so, a few got burned, though none badly.

Kirsti moved carefully toward the rocks where she could look down on the ships. Wilam, Brant and a few of the men followed her, though most of the men kept back with the horses, being spooked by the flames that temporarily covered the rocks.

When Kirstie arrived, she heard from Marsham who also just arrived. “We are not in a good position to charge the ships. They appear to be getting ready to sail.” Even as he thought, one of the ships pulled away from the landing, abandoning the wagons and mules on the rocky shore.

“No,” Kirstie spoke out loud. “And Hassel and Heath are not permitted to go there, either.”

“You better save some for us.” Kirstie heard from Warthog, though he was still some distance away.

“No one is getting a chance,” she spoke out loud. “They are already setting sail. Warthog, you might as well go home. You too Marsham. Thank you for your concern. Maybe next time. Warthog, maybe next time. We were not quick enough this time.”

Kirstie heard Warthog’s colorful language in her head. It sounded much more colorful than her own brief swearing session. “When I get home, I’ll tell Booturn what you said.” Warthog chose not to answer her.

Marsham apologized. “We came as quickly as we could.”

“I know you did” Kirstie continued to talk out loud. The men, other than Brant and Wilam, looked at her with curious faces. “Thank you. Just give a hug to your mother, Letty when you get home.”

“Lady,” Hassel and Heath came to face her, and Hassel looked prepared to get yelled at.

“No,” Kirstie said, even as the fairies came into focus and several of the men backed off. “No yelling. Thank you for rousting out the Vikings. We were too slow getting here. If we caught them on the road and you and Marsham blocked the way to their ships, we might have held them long enough for the men on foot to arrive, and… and Warthog. But they escaped, and now we have to follow them. And Heath, thank you for coming with your husband. You know, I miss your parents. I’m sorry I never saw them with these eyes.”

“Lord,” Hassel acknowledged Wilam.

“Lady,” Heath curtsied in mid-air, and it was about perfect.

Kirstie mumbled, “That is how it is done.”

Wilam turned to her and asked. “What do you mean follow them?”

Medieval 6: K and Y 8 Shame On Us, part 2 of 2

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Wilam said thanks to Alm and Yrsa for being there for Kirstie. Hilda was also there, but it was mostly to pick up Hodur and Soren and take them to her place for the night. No telling where Erik went. Wilam also said thanks to Thomas and Gustavs, whom he had met. They seemed extra happy, Kirstie figured, not the least for being relieved of Kare. There were also small presents from her tenants, Tove and her young family, and Helga’s family.

Wilam met Mariwood and Buttercup who stayed big the whole time they were there out of deference to the humans. He also met Booturn and Buckles who went with Birdie and Missus Kettle, and who came dressed as dwarfs and did not care about the humans. They had more food and drink which Booturn said was fit for human consumption, the drink being Bjorn the Bear’s recipe. Also, Inga and Brant Svenson were there, sort of a couple. It was a feast on top of the feast, but after a couple of hours, Wilam and Kirstie slipped away to their room.

 Around nine o’clock, Wilam and Kirstie got up. Kirstie felt uncomfortable about something, and after assuring Wilam that she was not uncomfortable with him, she lay there in the quiet trying to puzzle it out. Wilam pointed out that someone was in the main room, talking. They found Inga and Brant Svenson still there. They must have stayed when all the others left.

“Wilam,” Brant said, and smiled. “Inga tells me it is a Norse tradition that people stay by the couple to make sure they are undisturbed on their wedding night.”

“We are undisturbed,” Wilam said, but I think Kirstie is having some kind of premonition. No idea what about.”

Kirstie confessed to Inga that she imagined that whatever troubled Avalon also troubled her; but it was not that. It was more than that, like something else. “I did not feel troubled by Avalon all week. It just never occurred to me. Soren got well, and I got well all at once, the minute Wilam showed up. But now, something is wrong somewhere. If not Avalon, then where?”

“I feel the trouble myself, now that you mention it.” Inga said, and that seemed all Kirstie needed to trigger her actions. She stepped back into her room and to her closet.

“What’s up?” Brant wondered.

Kirstie looked at her armor. She kept it with her rather than sending it back to Avalon as usual. She felt afraid, even then, that if she called to it, it might be slow to respond. She decided not to risk it and stripped to dress the old-fashioned way. Inga kindly averted Brant’s eyes.

“She’s not my little girl anymore,” Inga said while she kept Brant from peeking.

Wilam asked, “Where’s the fire?” Always ready for adventure, it was one of the things Kirstie liked about him.

“I’m not sure,” she said, but with her weapons in place she felt ready for it.

“I’m not sure either,” Inga agreed. Kirstie and Inga looked at each other for a minute while the men stared. They agreed to go to the big house. Kirstie was not certain if the trouble would be found there, but it seemed a logical place to start.

They stepped outside to find someone peeping through the window. Young Erik escaped from being stuck with the babies, Soren and Hodur. He was out much later than he should have been. Hilda was probably worried about him. He started to turn, to run away, but stopped and spoke instead.

“Where are you going?” he asked, with a bright smile but some embarrassment at having been caught.

“Just looking for trouble,” Kirstie answered and smiled her reassurance. She didn’t mind, even if he peeked through the window while she changed. She simply did not have that sense of prudishness common among some. Instead, she would have felt sorry for him if he had not looked. “Come along,” she told him on a whim. Wilam responded by putting his arm around the boy and bringing him to the front of the line.

“Captain,” the boy said, sheepishly. He appeared a bit awed by a real longship captain, though Wilam was the navigator, not the captain. At eight years old, Erik already angled for a place in someone’s ship. He wanted that nailed down before he got old enough.

“We must hurry.” Inga was the only one paying attention to the task at hand. The rest of them seemed more like they were out for a moonlight stroll. They hurried at her word.

The big house looked still lit up from the all-day feast. They saw a big man, running away from the building at all speed. He showed clearly against the bright windows of the house for a minute, but rapidly vanished into the dark. By the time they arrived, the drama was over. They found broken furniture in several places and a broken man sitting against the wall. He bled profusely from his stomach and his left hand did little to stop it. His right hand hung limply at his side.

“Father McAndrews!” Inga jumped to his side. She was the Volva in training, after all, and no doubt would fill Mother Vrya’s place soon enough. She quickly checked the wound and just as quickly concluded. “There is nothing I can do.” Inga pleaded in Kirstie’s direction.

“Erik.” Wilam got the boy’s attention. “Go find the strangers, Lind and Gruden. Just find out where they are and come back here immediately.” Wilam looked at Inga, questioning, because he did not want to put the boy in danger. All she could do was wave without looking up. Kirstie and Inga were too busy. “Go.” He scooted the boy out the door.

“Wilam.” Brant paused. “No, I had better fetch the young priest, and Kerga. You don’t know the village well at all.”

“Nor you,” Wilam said.

Inga stood, shaking her head for the man on the ground and for Brant. “No,” she said. “I’ll go. Your arm may be needed if the murderers come back.” She hid her tears as she gave Brant a quick peck on the cheek and left.

“I failed.” Father McAndrews became conscious. “I fought. I raised my hand to them. Lord, forgive me. I failed.”

“You did not!” Kirstie shot at him as she tied the old priest’s shirt securely around his middle in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. “You did not fail. Jesus never said turn the other cheek to the devil. He said resist the devil and he will flee.”

“They did not flee.” The Priest took her hand. “They are merely men, not demons. They lured me here with the promise that they would hear my testimony, and I suspected they were lying. And even knowing this, I struck back. I failed.”

“Whether men or demons I will not argue.” Kirstie said, even more softly. “But do not worry. Our lord already paid the penalty for all of our failures.” She would not argue with the priest any further.

“Yes,” he said and suddenly smiled. “It is right I should enter heaven in total dependance on the Savior.” He closed his eyes.

Wilam gently lifted Kirstie by the shoulders. “Inga’s back with young Damien.” Brant spoke from the window. “And Erik at a run. Good boy.”

“They left.” Erik interrupted everyone and then took a long breath because he was winded. Father Damien knelt by his mentor. Inga said Kerga was coming in a minute but slow to react to the news. “They sailed off just now on the evening tide,” Erik finished his report. “I saw them untie the boat.”

A crack like thunder shook the big room, and everyone shielded his or her eyes for a minute against the great light.

“The old priest?” Wilam wondered.

“No.” Inga pointed when the light became bearable. They saw a shimmering figure, a woman, floating near the ceiling, a couple of feet off the ground, looking around as if trying to orient herself to new surroundings. Kirstie recognized her, or rather, her Nameless self far in the past saw her through Kirstie’s eyes and gave her a name.

“Mother Freyja.” She called the goddess and the attention of the goddess focused on her. Freyja continued to shimmer and float in an eerie ghost-like way, and Kirstie alone knew it was because she was a ghost. She, and the other Gods of Aesgard and Vanheim passed over to the other side ages ago.

“Kirstie, my daughter.” The ghost spoke. The others stared while the goddess continued. “You are my son even when you are my daughter.”

“Mother Freyja.” Kirstie interrupted before the others could start asking questions. “Father McAndrews.” She pointed.

“No, my heart,” Freyja responded. “My Nameless son knows the laws of the gods. Rule number one is that mortals die, and number two is the gods must not change rule one, even for favorites.” Kirstie dropped her head. She knew Freyja was right.

“But now, listen closely because I do not know how much time I will have to speak,” the goddess continued. “Your soul, Avalon, has been far more plagued than you imagine. It has been hidden from you. That was part of the problem, yet it may also help you in the time to come. The one of fire and water found my secret way between Aesgard and Avalon, but your father found him and drove him back to the golden streets of Aesgard. My love now guards the way. But soon you must go the way of the heart and with my son within, you will not go alone. Send my love to me.”

“Mother.” Kirstie spoke loudly because the goddess started to fade. “Freyja, what do you mean, the way of the heart?” Freyja smiled a smile so warm and loving the people could hardly take it all in. Every heart felt warmed, and everyone there thought for the first time they knew what love was. Something like golden sparkles came from the goddess and settled on Kirstie’s head. Then Freyja looked sad, and everyone gasped to see that love vanish. A small tear fell from the eyes of the goddess before she left. Kirstie reached down to the floor and picked up the teardrop of solid gold.

“What is this?” Kerga burst into the big house.

“He’s gone.” Father Damien spoke of Father McAndrews at almost the same time.

“A shame on our homes and hospitality,” Inga said.

“Wilam, take me home,” Kirstie pleaded, and he did. Kirstie suddenly felt very sad, but she did not cry.

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MONDAY

The Journey Begins. Kirstie is headed toward Northumbria, and Yasmina is headed out into the desert still looking for a safe place to call home. MONDAY. Happy Reading

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