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

September 24, 2024August 11, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Wilam and Kirstie spent as much time together as they could over the week his ship was in port. Sadly, it did not amount to much time. Fortunately, it was enough time for Kirstie to know she would say yes when he asked again. She realized how important it was that she decided to divorce Kare first, back when she never expected to see Wilam again.

Wilam left all too soon, but he promised to be back in a year. They had a contract with the village. Kirstie swore the divorce would be settled by the time he returned, but then Kare did not come back to Strindlos for almost the entire year. She heard he returned to Nidaros after a roughly five months of good weather. He stayed there a couple of months, sailed off again for another couple of months before the winter came full on. He landed again in Nidaros and returned to Strindlos only in the early spring. He saw the grain and wool as well as the furs and hides she collected and tanned for trade. He also found the two ivory walrus tusks the dwarfs brought her in early March, around Soren’s fourth birthday.

“They rut in February and the old ones die off then, sometimes,” Booturn said.

Kirstie asked if she could keep Birdie and Missus Kettle for another year. He said, “By all means,” but she could tell he was beginning to miss her. She vowed she would find a cook she could hire, which is how she preferred to think of it, and another woman she might get to do the wool, linen, and the general sewing and constant mending and washing needed around the place.

“Too bad Mother Freyja is not around these days,” she told Yrsa one afternoon when they walked home from visiting Kirstie’s properties. When Yrsa asked why, she said, “Because she could find just the right two women for Thomas and Gustavs, and I would not have to worry about them so much.”

“They seem content,” Yrsa said.

Kirstie agreed. They had no complaints. But content and happy were two different things. “I guess now I have to depend on the Lord to direct my steps,” she said, but did not explain what she meant.

When they got home, Kirstie found Kare rummaging around in the barn and drooling over the ivory, which he found, picked up, and covered with a blanket so no one would know. He started toward the barn door and got caught with the goods. He had to quickly toss them aside.

“Get out,” Kirstie yelled first thing before she even realized he was stealing her stuff.

“What?” He played stupid.

“You no longer have any business being here. I’m divorcing you.”

“What?” He got suddenly serious. “You can’t do that. You are my wife.”

“I can do that, and I am doing that.” She let out some steam. “Get out and don’t come back.”

He got triggered. Kirstie saw the red boil over in Kare’s eyes. He had to have heard about her decision to divorce him and maybe he thought he could talk her out of it, but she knew how to push his buttons. He clearly wanted to hit her but paused when he heard a voice behind him.

“You heard her,” Thomas and Gustavs both stood there, and Thomas had a hoe while Gustavs carried the pitchfork.

“You heard her,” Yrsa mirrored the words and appeared beside Kirstie, her knife in her hand. Booturn also stepped up, and he held an axe as big as himself.

“Get out,” Kirstie yelled again.

“I would do as the lady says,” Booturn spoke calmly.

“Okay. All right. I’m going,” Kare backed down, but he kicked the ivory tusks and slammed the barn door as he left.

Kirstie fought back the angry tears. “He came back to steal my stuff,” she concluded.

“You need to get to Inga, Mother Vrya, and Chief Kerga first thing in the morning,” Yrsa said, showing a remarkable bit of sense. Kirstie nodded and went into the house. When Inga came with Soren, she told Inga what she was going to do.

“I’ll be ready,” Inga said, and Kirstie thanked her. She fed Soren and put him to bed. She crawled into her own bed alone until Soren toddled in and got up in the bed beside his mother. Then Kirstie slept.

When the morning came, when the sun just touched the horizon, Yrsa came to take Soren’s hand. They followed Kirstie who went straight to the Witcher Women. Despite the early hour, Mother Vrya was ready and waiting, and Inga stood with her. They got to the big house in time to see Chief Kerga go in ahead of them.

Chief Kerga had to send two men to fetch Kare. Kare was preparing his ship for departure, and he refused to come on his own, by request, or by an order from the chief, so he had to be brought in. Jarl and Harrold were there to witness along with Mother Vrya and several of the village elders. It did not take long for Kirstie to explain. Kare was unfaithful, a drunk and a thief besides. Yrsa was a witness to his thieving. He tried to walk off with her ivory.

“The word of a woman supporting a woman,” Kare said. “That hardly counts as proof.”

“Thomas and Gustavs were both witnesses, too,” she said.

“The word of thralls? What did you promise them to lie for you?”

“There are other witnesses, but I hesitate to call them. Anyway, it does not matter. You were caught stealing before.”

“What? You have no proof of that.”

“But we do,” Jarl interrupted. He called two men to testify. They were once part of Kare’s crew, but Jarl enticed them to sail on his ship, and they did not take much enticement.

“Yes,” they said. “We were with him last year when he tried to take the grain and wool from the barn. He said it was his to take. We did not know.”

“But it was not his to take,” Kirstie said. “Besides, he sold my thralls, my property without permission. He owes me thirty pieces of silver. Better yet, he should be forced to go and get my thralls back at whatever cost. Besides that, he hit me once, and more important, he hit my son. You all saw the black eye. I know, some men beat their wives and children. Some men take from the family and from their wives and get away with that. Some men even have lovers on the side. But all these added together say I cannot trust him. The marriage is dead and should be ended. Besides that, he never paid the bride price, and for that the marriage should be counted as if it never happened. I would rather have poor Soren be a bastard son than continue in this farce.”

Kare choked on the words “bride price.” He tried to think of some defense, but he had nothing. The beating, the mistress or two, even taking the wife’s property without permission might not of themselves be grounds enough for a divorce; but he forgot all about the bride price. It was too late. He could never pay enough. She would not accept it, and without paying the bride price, they were not really married. He finally said, “But you are the one I was always going to marry. You are my wife.” His anger flared, but he got cut off by Harrold’s words.

“Not anymore.” He looked up, not at Kirstie, but at the ceiling, and said, “Divorce.”

Jarl said “Divorce.”

Mother Vrya and Chief Kerga said, “Divorce,” and the rest of the men said it, though some of them whispered it.

Kare roared. “I’ll be back soon enough, and then we will settle this.” He stomped out of the building.

“It’s already settled.” Kirstie shot after him with her anger. She raced to the door. “I won’t be here when you get back.”

“You had better be.” Kare shouted. “Or I will find out who he is and kill him.”

“No.” Kirstie shook her determined head, her light blond hair going every which way. “It is over between us.”

“You are my wife.” He roared once more.

“Forced.” She growled. “But no more.”

Kare rushed back and his hand came up to slap her face, but Kirstie stood her ground ready to fight him off. “You know what will happen if you ever strike me.” She said in a low, hard voice. She would kill him, and he knew it. He thought better about the slap. With a growl of his own, Kare spun around, raced to his ship and they cast off. As the oars came out and the ship began to pull out into the fjord, Kirstie sat down, right on the dock, and cried. All those years of pent-up frustration, disappointment, and feelings of hopelessness came out all at once.

Medieval 6: K and Y 2 Home, part 2 of 2

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

Come September, October, and November, when the leaves fell and the days turned cold, Kirstie lightened up on Kare. They had to share the same house and the same bed, and peace was better than war. Kare still threw fits now and then, especially after he discovered Bjorn the Bear’s beer recipe. He was not a happy drunk.

Kare spent much of his time with the shipbuilders. The rest of his time got spent examining the house and barn in every nook and cranny. It did not take long for Kirstie to figure out he was looking for whatever money, silver, or gold she had hidden. He found the beer recipe when he started tearing through the barn.

Kirstie had her bit of money safely hidden. It was not much since she bought those properties next to her own place, but just to be sure, she took what she had and deposited it with the elves who had no use for money. She figured it would not be safe with the dwarfs. They would likely melt down the metal to use for their own purposes. Also, the fairies might keep it, but the risk was too great that they might leave it lying around, unprotected, and accidentally forget about it.

Lord Amber put it in the hallow of a tree and covered it with spells designed to scare away any humans that got too close. He assigned a half-dozen young elves to watch it, which mostly they did. Kirstie said thank you and went straight home. The sky looked like it might snow.

Kirstie stayed home in January. She feared she might slip and fall where the ice covered the path to town. Besides, she started feeling very full, even if Inga still insisted her son would not be born until mid-March. Kare started to get anxious about something, but he would not say what. Sometimes, Kirstie imagined he cared about her and was anxious about her and the baby. Usually, she thought he was anxious about his ship. The builders stopped working about mid-November and would not start up again until after her baby was born. Whatever was bothering him, it only seemed to get worse as the time went on. And in winter, when people spent most of their time indoors, he was often around, brooding over something he refused to talk about.

Things came to a head around the first of March, when Kirstie felt ready to burst. Kare took Fiona and her three sons and sold them to a man in Aurland in Sygnafylki, a completely different province and a long way from Strindlos. He got drunk. He knew she would object, and he did not want to hear it. He hit her and knocked her down. Her hands went straight to her belly to calm her baby and make sure nothing got shaken too badly. She got up slowly. She caught his eye and even drunk, he realized he made a mistake. Kirstie’s words were very cold and directed. “If you ever raise your hand to me again, I will kill you.” He knew she meant it. She might do it, too.

“You just don’t understand,” he yelled, took his money, and left. He stayed in his rundown shack for the entire month of March. Kirstie gave birth on the sixth. She named the boy Soren Kareson, because Kare never even came to see or to name his son.

Much later, Kirstie found out Kare needed the money to make the last payment on his ship. Once the builders were paid, they went back to work and finished it in March. Apparently, some of the delay was waiting for Kare to finish paying for it. On the first of April, Kare gathered his crew and set out on his maiden voyage. “April fool,” Kirstie called him. After he left, she found out that while she was busy being pregnant with Kare’s child, Kare was off having secret rendezvous with a woman named Randi.

Randi came from the town at the mouth of the Nid River when the Vanlil attacked. She lost her young husband and her child when she escaped the fighting. She came to Strindlos with some others, but now most of them were returning to the new town of Nidaros. Maybe that was where the whole idea of migrating to Nidaros started. Kirstie hoped Strindlos would remain a viable village for as long as she lived, but there was no guarantee. If the king came to rebuild his house, he might insist Strindlos, the closest village, be abandoned so the people could fill his adjacent town. If the king built a fortress, he might not have to insist. People would flock to the protected town. Rune and Jarl already had land around the Nid River. The ship builders were mostly there as well. The rest of the people might not be far behind.

Hilda had a boy about a week after Kirstie. She named him Hodur Thorenson. Hilda was happy enough, though Thoren went off sailing with Kare. Thoren had been studying navigation and Kirstie did not imagine Kare would get very far without him. Curiously, Thoren never questioned her for her knowledge about the subject, not to say Kirstie was the only navigator in town.

About the time Hilda went into labor, Kirstie felt strong enough to step outside. She wrapped Soren carefully in plenty of blankets for warmth against the chill and walked to the cooking fires. Birdie introduced her dwarf friend Missus Kettle. Missus Kettle came down from the mountains, a volunteer to cook for the house now that Fiona was gone.

“Thank you,” Kirstie said. “Everything I have had so far has tasted wonderful.”

Missus Kettle grinned. “My husband and his friends, dwarfs you know, I don’t think they chew anything long enough to taste the food. I don’t mind cooking for someone who appreciates it.”

Kirstie smiled and turned to the lords of the woods and hills. Lord Bjork, king of the fairies was there with his wife, Bellflower, their daughter Buttercup, and her husband Meriwood. Booturn the chief dwarf and his crew of a half-dozen fellow dwarfs stood remarkably still and quiet, waiting their turn. Lord Amber and his wife Heather also stood with their daughter Yrsa and her husband Alm. Kirstie turned first to the fairies and Bjork spoke right up.

“The spring is upon us. The young ones have said good-bye to Mother Vrya and the Witcher Women. Buttercup may visit young Inga from time to time, but they have work to do in this world and we have let things go for too long. The grain is ready to be planted. The flowers are beginning to grow in the fields. The snow and ice are leaving the trees and there is much to do. I have told the young ones you will be much happier seeing us attending to the work given to us. We have let things go for too long.” He repeated himself.

“Yes, my friends,” Kirstie agreed. “We all have much to do.”

“We will not be far away if you should need us,” Lord Bjork said.

“The best of blessings on you and your son,” Lady Bellflower said, and they flew off to disappear among the trees.

“Booturn,” Kirstie called to him though he was right there. “Report,” she said, but she could not hold back the smile.

Booturn worried his hat as he spoke. “Me and the boys have done about all we can for your blacksmith, and now that the lady Fiona is moved on, we decided we better move on, too. We want to get back to some real forges and some real work before the dark elves down below come up and steal our things.”

“And don’t you steal theirs either.” Kirstie shook a playful finger at them.

“No. No Mum. Never dream of it…” The dwarfs answered.

“Besides,” Booturn continued. “Smithy Svend is talking about moving his operation to Nidaros, and it makes my feet tired just thinking about walking all that extra distance.”

“Go home, with my thanks and blessing,” Kirstie said. “I will keep Birdie and Missus Kettle for a while if you don’t mind.”

Booturn made a face which might have been a face of hardship, but which looked slyly like a face of relief and joy. He spoke of the hardship, like he was making a great sacrifice. “It won’t be easy without our womenfolk, but I can see you need the help most right now. They can stay as long as they have a mind. We will just have to make do.” He let out a great sigh, but it was not convincing.

“Go on,” Kirstie said. “Skat and have a safe trip home.” Kirstie had to think for a moment before it came to her. “And Booturn. Maybe your daughter will have a son you can leave the family tools to in the future.”

“A grandbaby son?” Booturn puffed out his chest like it was already a done deal. Kirstie looked at Birdie, but Birdie answered her unspoken question like she was reading Kirstie’s mind.

“My baby does not want her mother interfering. I’ll see the boy when she brings him for a visit, and then I’ll spoil him rotten and she will have to deal with that.” Birdie turned back to her loom without so much as a crack in her serious expression, but Missus Kettle grinned to think of it.

Booturn frowned and cleared his throat. “Come on boys,” he said, and they also vanished in the woods.

Kirstie turned to Lord Amber, but Amber pointed first to Vortesvin who stood there quietly, straw hat in his hand, which he pretty much tore to pieces while he waited. Kirstie imagined she saw a tear in the old troll’s eye. He seemed to be waiting for her to speak, so she did, though it broke her heart to say it.

“You know, you cannot follow Fiona and the boys. Fiona’s life will be but a breath of years, and the boys not much longer. As for Sibelius, though he will not live as long as a full blood troll, we may hope he will live long enough to see his father again.”

“I was good,” Vortesvin said. “I did not fight or anything when your man took them away.”

“You were very good, and I thank you for that.”

Vortesvin nodded and looked in the direction the dwarfs went. “I think I will go home to the mountains again. I will remember Fiona, and the boys, and my son, and be glad that I know what love is.” He wiped his nose with his arm and shouted, “Hey. Wait up,” and he crashed into the trees, running after the dwarfs.

Kirstie looked at Lord Amber again and wiped the tears from her eyes. Lord Amber smiled to be reminded just how much Kirstie loved all of her little ones, even the ones that were not so little. Then he thought he better speak.

“While you were busy with your new son, I took the liberty over this last month to seek out possible tenants for the two properties you bought. I was discreet.” He nodded at the path toward town. In the remarkable timing the little ones often displayed, Kirstie saw a small crowd coming up the path and headed toward the house.

Medieval 5: K and Y 17 Surprises, part 2 of 4

July 24, 2024June 4, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Harrold and Ulf surprised Kirstie when they walked up to Kirstie and Harrold asked straight out. “Which way do we go?”

To Kirstie’s surprised face, Ulf added, “It is your plan. Best we travel in a way that avoids hamlets and farms where the people might see and give warning.”

“Why are you asking me? I’ve never been to Northumbria.”

Harrold smiled for her, and it was a wicked smile. “Why don’t you ask your maid and her elf friends. Maybe some of those little things that flitter around the home of the Witcher Women. Maybe this place has some little hairy men like the ones working with Svend. The blacksmith has never produced such good work as in the last year or so.”

“Dwarfs,” Kirstie said. “The little hairy men are dwarfs, and I would not recommend speaking badly of them. They are experts at holding a grudge and getting even.”

“Lady,” Yrsa interrupted. “We can go this way.” She pointed up the beach. Ulf looked around like he expected to see some fairies or light elves, but Harrold smiled more broadly and got the men up and moving.

Kirstie added one note to the captains. “We can avoid the obvious farms and Hamlets along the way, but you better tell the men to keep quiet or we will be heard long before we are seen.”

Yrsa and Kirstie walked out front and whispered. Kare and Thoren followed them like they were not about to let the women get out of sight. Kirstie looked back now and then to be sure the men were keeping up, but all she saw was Kare’s vapid smile. It made Kirstie curl her lip in response.

Kirstie could know and hear from the little ones that volunteered to lead the group, but being strictly mortal and human, she would risk getting a headache. Yrsa was tied directly into the network of little ones and could hear and sense the way to go without much effort at all. She did most of the leading and relayed the information to Kirstie, not that either of them had to concentrate on the directions. Mostly, the directions consisted of keep going straight in the direction you are going.

Around noon, Kirstie sent word back that they should be extra quiet. They had to thread the needle between two small hamlets and their farm fields that practically touched. One field had men working, but they got called off for some reason and went down the back of a hill and out of sight as the Vikings moved by. Kirstie got the word as well as Yrsa. “Someone is helping us.” Kirstie did not want to think about it.

They stopped shortly in a wooded area where they could eat and rest. “No fires,” Kirstie insisted, and the captains agreed with that.

“The smoke would be seen for miles.” Captain Erikson spelled it out.

The afternoon was much the same, and they stopped early in a meadow on the side of a hill, surrounded by deep forest. Kirstie showed the three places where the men could build their fires for the night. She explained that the rocks, and the natural contour of the hill, plus the trees would block the light from the fire. Also, the wind appeared to be blowing in the right direction to take the smoke away from the village.

“This is not good farmland, being full of rocks on the hillside,” she told the captains. “The village fields start on the other side of the hill, and there is a road that comes around the hill and leads to the village center. We can pick up the road in the morning when we reach the fields. Meanwhile, though it is less than ten days into May, the day was warm, and I expect the night will not get too cold. Let the men eat and sleep tonight so they will be rested and ready to go in the morning.”

“What about after the deed is done?” Odger asked.

“We cut diagonally through the land back to Howick. A false trail is being laid that points due east toward the sea. Even if they gather fighting men right away, and even if they have horses, they should head toward the sea. By the time they figure it out and come down the coast looking for our ships, we should be well away.” That was all Kirstie planned to say, but then she thought she better add one more note. “Just remember, we can burn houses and loot everything, but we need to drive the people away. We especially want the women and children to complain to the king. Desperate women and children will get the men in Bamburgh moving like nothing else, so no indiscriminate killing.” The captains looked like they were half listening.

Kirstie got awakened by Yrsa before dawn. Gunhild got enlisted to wake them, but Yrsa sensed they were coming so she got Kirstie up and ready. The captains Harrold, Ulf, and Odger had a request. Captain Erikson was kept out of it for some reason.

“You two need to put on your blue and green dresses,” Harrold said. “You need to go into the village and check it out. Let us know where the men are gathering, and if there are any fighters or soldiers in the town, we need to know where they are.”

“The general layout of the place would help,” Odger added.

“I expect you back here two hours after sunrise. That should give us enough time to move in and do the deed and be gone by noon. We will have to move fast but knowing what we are doing will speed things nicely.”

“You don’t want to run into a troop of soldiers or find a local fortress near the town,” Kirstie concluded.

“As you say,” Ulf spoke kindly, though it was clearly not his natural voice. “We wish to minimize the fighting and killing.”

Kirstie frowned at the men and stood. She packed her little bag and glanced at Gunhild. The woman stood with her mouth open. Who knew what she was thinking except maybe sending two young girls in to spy on a strange town seemed dangerous. Kirstie also glanced at Kare and Thoren who were not far away and still snoring, not aware that anything was happening. Kirstie caught a sudden image of Kare as a husband. The burglars could break into the house, rape her, and steal everything, and Kare would sleep through it all.

“We will be back,” Kirstie said with, “Come on Yrsa.”

“Don’t you need to change?” Harrold asked.

“Don’t worry. We will be dressed properly before we get to the village.”

Kirstie and Yrsa got to the road and out of sight of the men behind them before they changed. Kirstie called her blue dress out of Avalon. It replaced her armor and weapons. Yrsa simply had to touch her fairy weave and think what she wanted, and her leather changed into the green dress she liked.

“Let’s try and stay out of the mud,” Kirstie mumbled and said nothing else until they came to the village center. There were only a few people up and out that early. The blacksmith was stoking his fires. One woman was setting a stand in the market area and another woman complained that she was taking her spot. One man walked down the road beside an ox drawn wagon full of hay. A few men stood around the front of a shop, talking quietly, and Kirstie recognized one of them. She said, “Wilam.”

Wilam turned to see who called him. Kirstie stopped a few feet away and watched Wilam’s face turn slowly from curiosity to recognition. “Kirstie?” He got it right.

Kirstie tried not to smile too hugely. “You remembered.”

“It took a second because I never imagined, well, I imagined, but I never saw you in a proper dress,” he said. “You look very nice… Lovely… Beautiful… Stop me when I get to the right word.”

“Any of those will do fine,” she responded and looked down to check herself. She wanted to make a good appearance. “But what are you doing here?” she said, some concern creeping into her voice.

“I live here. Why? What are you doing here?” He picked up on her concern.

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

MONDAY

Kirstie spies out the Northumbrian village and has to try and save as many people as she can. Until then, Happy Reading.

Medieval 5: K and Y 16 Going Again, part 1 of 4

July 15, 2024June 2, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Kirstie got to do some serious thinking on the voyage home. It occurred to her that Abraxas would not be giving up. The church covered much of Europe, but there were still pockets of paganism and other religions vying for the people’s attention. The right Gael could go to Spain where Christianity and Islam struggled. Frisia, and Flanders would be easy targets with the right bloodline. He could try Brittany again like he did in Margueritte’s life, or maybe southern Francia around Septimania or Provence, like Arles, though she remembered he tried that once already. Denmark would be easy. He could send a Dane, an Angle, or a Jute to the Jutland peninsula. She worried herself to no end.

She knew better than to try to get Jarl to turn to the English shore, though she did ask him several times. She even suggested he could drop her off and leave her there. Jarl shook his head. “Inga, Mother Vrya, and maybe your giant and other friends might never forgive me.” At least he was talking to her pleasantly again.

“Maybe after you are home, like in a few months, like after the winter?” Kirstie suggested.

Jarl shook his head and Leif looked up because he was never far away and always listening. Jarl spoke plainly. “I am thinking about the town that was at the mouth of the Nid River. The Vanlil killed half the town, and most of the rest fled and settled in with family in other villages. There is plenty of good land there, cleared, and ready to plant. I’m thinking with what we made on this trip I may buy some of it. My younger brother and his young family could move there to keep it and live well.”

Leif interrupted. “I heard the king is offering to pay to repair the docks there, and the shipbuilders are talking about moving their drydocks to that place.”

“But they agreed to build Kare’s ship,” Kirstie said. She knew that much.

Jarl understood but countered her words. “It may be the last ship they build in Strindlos. The town at the Nid mouth is only a day away, and with help from the king, many may go there to rebuild the place. We have an advantage being as close as we are, but I figure we need to move soon and stake our claim before the others come.”

“Lots of people are talking that way,” Leif said. “Maybe the whole village will go there.”

“And, I expect the king will eventually rebuild his house, and probably with stone this time, like a fortress. That will cause even more people to go there to shelter under the protection of the king.” Jarl shook his head for Kirstie. “I have enough to keep me busy for at least the next year. I’m sorry. Besides, we did our hag, and good men died, and Rune did his and more died. I figure it is Harrold’s turn.”

Kirstie curled her lip at the idea of sailing with Harrold but nodded. She did not want to go anywhere on Harrold’s ship. The man upset her, burning churches and monasteries. But mostly, Kare would be aboard the ship, and she did not want to be in such close quarters with him for maybe months.

When they pulled into the dock at Strindlos, Inga came with Mother Vrya. Poor Mother Vrya looked like she was ageing rapidly. She walked with a cane. Hilda was there, with Kare’s friend Thoren of all people, and Alm came, but he kept a couple of steps back from the crowd. Husbands and sons hugged wives and mothers. Some wives and mothers wept when they found out some men died on this voyage. Honestly, Yrsa and Kirstie wanted to cry with them, but Mother Vrya indicated there was some urgency.

“Lind and Gruden came from the king. They heard some dwarfs came down from the mountain to work in the forges. No telling who talked, but they said that only the Kairos could get dwarfs to cooperate in anything. I would not have guessed Lind or especially Gruden even knew the word Kairos. Anyway, the blacksmith and his people admitted nothing. Chief Kerga said nothing, but they went to a few of the outlying farms and seemed to focus on yours.”

“Everyone there seemed human and normal enough,” Inga added. “They have no reason to suspect you except you being a shield maiden is most unusual. I told them your father was a navigator who died in Francia, and you learned navigation from him. That made you a valuable member of any crew. I think they bought it.”

“Are they still here?” Kirstie asked.

“No,” Mother Vrya said. “But they will be back. They spoke with Chief Kerga about moving the whole village to the mouth of the Nid.”

“Nidarosss. Nid mouth,” Kirstie named the town.

“The king wants the town re-founded,” Inga interjected.

“Kerga said he would think about it.”

Kirstie sent up a little prayer that she might live this life without being found by whomever was looking for her—servants of the masters, no doubt. She stopped to hug Hilda and glanced at Thoren whom she thought of as the nice one. “So, are you married yet?” she asked.

Hilda pretended shock, but Thoren said the truth. “Not yet.” He seemed happy about the prospect, and so did Hilda so Kirstie did not mind.

At the last, Kirstie turned to Alm. Yrsa had already run ahead and loved on him, so Alm was ready to speak when she arrived. Without any fanfare or anything to prepare her, the elf said, “Fiona is pregnant.” Kirstie was shocked, especially when he added, “Vortesvin.”

“Humans are not made to carry troll babies,” Kirstie protested. “What was she thinking?” Kirstie did not bother to ask what the troll was thinking. She started to walk toward home. Inga and Mother Vrya had their hands full with the grieving women. Yrsa and Alm began to follow Kirstie, but Kirstie nixed that. “Yrsa, you need to go to the big house and make sure we get a fair share each. Tell Captain Jarl and Leif I will haunt them if they don’t do right by the families that lost loved ones.”

Yrsa nodded, took Alm by the hand and led him to the big house. Kirstie walked alone on the road to her house until the very end when Buttercup caught her. Mariwood stayed back and looked pensive. “Lady don’t yell. Please. Pleasy-please. They are liking each other very much, and Vortesvin is good to the boys. Even Birdie likes the troll, and I never thought I would in a billion years, but so do I. Fiona is a nice lady and a friend. Please.”

“Humans are not built to carry troll babies,’ Kirstie repeated herself and pushed passed the fairies. She walked right passed the cooking fire and the ladies there, continued passed the cows where Vortesvin and two human disguised elves were fixing the fence, and she came to the trees where she stopped just inside the forest edge. She screamed just as loud and long as she could. Thanks to Njord’s gift she could take an inhumanly big breath. She screamed a long time. She felt sure that was not what Njord had in mind. She smiled and rubbed her throat when she came back out from the trees and said in a hoarse voice, “There. Now I feel better.”

Medieval 5: K and Y 14 Side Steps, part 2 of 2

July 3, 2024June 2, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

While the men rowed, Kirstie and Yrsa disguised themselves as well as they could. Yrsa simply changed her glamour, so she looked like a young boy instead of a girl. “Cheater,” Kirstie said, and immediately traded places through time with Elgar, the Saxon. Most of the men knew Elgar from years earlier. Leif even complained.

“You don’t look like you have aged one day since then.”

“I do try to keep in shape,” Elgar smiled and called for a different suit he knew he had on Avalon. It was mostly leather, it replaced his armor, and with some minor adjustments, he looked like one of the crew.

“Elgar,” Jarl said. “I thought you might show up.”

They bumped the dock softly and men jumped out to fasten the ship. Six men stood on the dock waiting to board. The speaker from the longboat stood in front. Two soldier types, though they may have been mercenaries stood behind him. Three clerks with tenth century versions of clipboards, velum, and something to write with followed.

“I am Captain Jarl Hagenson of Strindlos. My skipari is Leif. Old Man Skarde is our scald and with Elgar and Yerser, they will accompany your clerks and answer any questions you may have.” He smiled as the speaker from the longboat frowned. That told Jarl, and at least Elgar, that the clerks and probably all six of them had sticky fingers and needed to be watched.

Jarl stayed with the longboat speaker. Leif grabbed another member of the crew to stand with the two mercenaries and pass pleasantries while they waited. The whole center aisle of the ship was filled with bags, boxes, and bundles to trade, and Yrsa and Skarde watched their clerks closely, though there was not much they could pocket. Elgar helped his clerk step over the rowing benches to get to the front of the ship where Kirstie kept the most valuable items.

He let the man taste the honey with his finger, but it was an especially big jug, and the wax could hardly be snitched. The man was impressed by the polar bear skin, and his eyes got big looking at the ivory. Then he counted and asked why there were only five tusks.

“Walruses,” Elgar said. “They fight, you know. They fight for dominance, and sometimes one breaks a tusk. My supplier said one must have broken completely off, probably by the water where the tide took it out to sea. Such a shame.”

The clerk nodded. It was a good story. He looked at the basket of amber, and counted, but Elgar never let go of it.

“Half empty?” the man asked.

“We got caught in that storm a week ago. Do you recall? It was terrible at sea.”

“You don’t mean some washed overboard,” the clerk looked horrified.

“One crew member did,” Elgar said. “But no. We had to stop in a village on the Eider River in Saxon territory to make repairs.” he showed the man Kirstie’s railing. “You can see the new wood. It is not the same color and hardly weathered. We had repairs all over the ship and even needed a new mast. They were good people, though. The Lord of the Castle gave us a keg of wine, but all of it cost us some amber. Even if we had silver to pay, which we don’t, he would only take amber. I guess there is a good market here on the continent for the stuff. It is hard to come by as Captain Hagenson said.” He brought the clerk back up front and away from their special items. “Are we all done?”

“Not yet,” the speaker from the longboat said. “I only need to know where you have hidden the rest of the things.”

“Why would we hide things?” Elgar asked. “You have a list of all of our things, so if anything gets stolen, we will know, and more importantly, you will know and hopefully help us catch the thief.”

The speaker eyed Elgar like he was not supposed to think of that, but he said something different. “You speak with an accent.”

Elgar looked down like a man ashamed. “My mother was a Saxon, but polite people kindly don’t notice.”

All this while, Skarde kept trying to draw attention to himself by trying hard not to draw attention to himself. Finally, Yrsa could not stand it. She lowered her voice as she had with the clerk, though she still sounded like a young man whose voice had not yet changed, and she said, “Skarde, what are you hiding?”

Skarde quickly pulled his half open shirt together and said, “Nothing. Nothing.”

That finally provoked a reaction. The speaker from the longboat stepped to face Skarde. He put his hand out and frowned again. Skarde shook his head and turned away without actually moving away.

Jarl spoke. “Give it up, man,” he said, and Skarde reluctantly pulled out a piece of amber. The speaker from the longboat took it but kept his hand out. Skarde pulled out the other piece with a word.

“There. That is all of it.” He opened his shirt and showed his fat belly. He turned around and showed there was nothing down his pants. The speaker from the longboat decided he did not need to look there, and he spoke.

“Since these are not on the inventory, it is my duty to confiscate them. This man is not allowed to come into town, but the rest of you are welcome to come to the tavern on the water while your captain negotiates his sales.” The man gave Jarl a smile that looked sickly, and he left.

Jarl waited until the man was out of earshot before he laid down the rules. Same as before. No one gets drunk and don’t provoke anything. No stealing and no fighting. Leave your swords and axes here but take your knives. Keep the knives hidden. I don’t want the locals to know you have knives on you. Remember. We are trying to make some good money, but there is reported to be a hag in town, so keep your eyes open and be prepared to fight if needed.

“Skarde, Yrsa and Elgar need to stay here and guard the treasure.” Jarl held up his hand to forestall the protests. “The hag does not need to know you are here looking for her. I will send word when I find her, meanwhile, we are trying to make some money here.”

Elgar growled at him and traded back to Kirstie in her own armor who still made the growl, though a whole pitch higher.

Jarl, Leif, and the men all vacated the ship, the men to the tavern, and Jarl, Leif, and three others to the guild hall. Kirstie turned straight to Yrsa.

“What resources have you got?”

“Like you don’t know?” Yrsa said.

“Yes, but you are here, and I have a headache.”

Yrsa nodded and shut her eyes for a moment. “There are not many around here right now,” she said. “All the fighting not to mention the hag is scary. The land is rather torn up. Let’s see. There is an elf troop in the glens on the hillside, a fairy camp on the shore toward Dieppe, dwarf homes in the hills of Talou, and dark elves in the swamps around Lillebonne, this side of Rouen. As you know, there are always some here and there, but those are the closest that feel available to manifest in the face of the humans.” Yrsa turned to Skarde. “Facing human can be scary. Humans are so mean and unpredictable.”

“Exactly as I think,” Skarde said.

Suddenly, Kirstie felt guilty. Margueritte reminded her that she used to travel with a fairy from the Frisian shore named Tulip. Kirstie checked. Tulip was getting up in years, having passed eight hundred. But she had a daughter, Anemone, who was only two hundred and three, a good age for a fairy. Kirstie decided if she survived this encounter with the hag, she would urge Jarl to stop where she could see Sir Waldo and maybe Captain Otto and visit with Tulip and her daughter.

Kirstie called to her blue dress. Yrsa immediately changed into her green dress and removed the glamour of the boy, so she looked like Yrsa again, albeit still covered to look like a human woman, and she said, “So where are we going?”

“I thought you two were going to stay and keep me company,” Skarde said.

Kirstie shook her head. “You need to come with us. I have a bad feeling about this. I expect since he got the whole crew to go to the tavern, Longboat Bigmouth will be back with a bunch of soldiers to kill you and take everything.”

“They wouldn’t,” Skarde said.

“And where are the Danes? Not even a guard left on their ship.”

“No movement on the ships anchored in the port, either.” Yrsa pointed out.

“I said a brace is only as good as the glue that holds the wood in place when I showed my clerk the repair to the railing. He heard “a brace is” and looked up, like he expected a different word.”

“I use the word abrasive, and mentioned pirates’ ambushes, and I think both times he looked for the word Abraxas.” Yrsa looked pensive. “The clerks and soldiers did not seem entirely focused,”

“Enchanted by the hag,” Kirstie said.

“I would guess the same,” Yrsa agreed. “They will be back now that the ship is deserted.”

“I think this hag is greedy, or she is working on the crews to turn them to Abraxas so when the time comes, they can sail home and spread the word.”

“Or both,” Yrsa added.

“Kind of like spreading a disease.” Kirstie said, and Yrsa nodded.

“Shall we?” Yrsa asked and took one of Skarde’s arms.

“We shall,” Kirstie said and took the other arm.

They walked the dock to town looking like a grandfather and his two granddaughters. They made it to the main street just in time as sure enough, Longboat Bigmouth and twenty soldiers scooted past them, not giving them a second look, other than the young soldiers who might have looked twice at the girls. The soldiers headed straight for their boat and Bigmouth even called out. “Old man, come out and show yourself.”

Old Man Skarde watched for a minute before he said, “How did I get so lucky.”

Kirstie answered. “Blame the elf.”

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

MONDAY

Things in Normandy don’t go as expected, and there is the hag. Until Monday, Happy Reading.

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

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

Yasmina

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Time to pack,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kirstie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kirstie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you bargaining?”

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

“The elf?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yasmina

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

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

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

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

“Come in,” Aisha yelled to the door.

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

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

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

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

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

MONDAY

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

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

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

Kirstie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“May I see it?” Vortesvin asked kindly.

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

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

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

Booturn frowned. “What do you want?”

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

“A cup?”

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

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

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

Booturn nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fairy weave?” Svend asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kirstie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A pleasure,” Mariwood said.

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

“I hope I may stay,” Fiona said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MONDAY

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

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

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

Kirstie

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

“I hope it works,” Inga said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Giants?” Inga asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Basically,” Kirstie nodded.

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

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

Storyteller Tales & Thoughts

Stories and reflections on storytelling

Dwarfs

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

Medieval 6: K and Y 2 Home, part 2 of 2

Medieval 5: K and Y 17 Surprises, part 2 of 4

Kirstie

Medieval 5: K and Y 16 Going Again, part 1 of 4

Kirstie

Medieval 5: K and Y 14 Side Steps, part 2 of 2

Kirstie

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

Yasmina

Kirstie

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

Kirstie

Yasmina

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

Kirstie

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

Kirstie

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

Kirstie