Elf

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

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Yasmina

Yasmina wandered through the meadow where the wildflowers grew, and the bees came to collect the pollen to make their honey. It was not exactly the sculpted garden she grew up in, or the imitation garden in Fustat, the Princess garden in Alexandria, or the newly planted and manicured garden she practically lived in when she was held prisoner in the palace in Madhiya, but it would do. In some ways, the meadow was better. It was natural. The flowers, many different kinds, grew wherever they found a place, or more accurately, where the local fairies encouraged them.

The nearest fairy troop live in the hills some distance away, but she spied one every now and then. In exchange for a bit of honey, they kept the flowers growing big and strong for the bees. Of course, the people saw them as little birds, if they even noticed, but Yasmina could see beneath the glamours, and even see the gnomes who mostly worked invisible and insubstantial, if she cared to look.

Aisha fell in love with a local elf and joined a troop that lived in the distant woods where only a few human farms interrupted the verdant wilderness. Of course, Aisha and her husband Castaneis visited once or twice a year, “Just to check up and make sure all was well.” Yasmina was happy for her friend.

Also, once or twice per year, or at least every other year, Norsemen began to come to the port of Amalfi to trade. Amalfi was easier to reach than sailing all the way to Byzantium. The Rus had trade down the rivers blocked to competition, especially since they took Kyiv a couple of years ago. The Normans in particular had to come the long way around, through the so-called Pillars of Hercules. Still, Amalfi was closer and less taxing than Constantinople.

They brought furs like ermine and beaver, and sometimes amber and ivory to trade for silks, fragrances, glassware, and wine that would fetch a fortune back home in the north. It was all due to Captain Frodesson, Oswald the elder, and Edwin the dog. By 945, southern Italy had regular and friendly trade with the north, in particular the Normans, as they came to be called. Yasmina understood the general thrust of history. It would be fifty years before the Normans came to settle southern Italy, piece by piece. She would be gone by then, but her children and grandchildren, and maybe great-grandchildren would be part of that.

Yasmina sometimes got called on to settle things when there was a dispute, since she got credited with setting up the Norse trade in the first place. Those disputes were usually minor and easily resolved. It was a different story when Islamic ships came to the port. Yasmina got called on then, too, and sometimes those disputes were not so minor.

Yasmina herself donned her armor three times over the last ten years to fight off Muslims that tried to establish settlements in southern Italy. She fought alongside Naples, Salerno, Capua, the Byzantines, and plenty of princes, dukes, and counts from here or there. She was instrumental in keeping Italy Muslim free. Al-Rahim taught her well. She knew Islamic ways, weapons, tactics, and what the Muslims in general and in particular the Isma’ili fanatics were capable of. Francesco got knighted after one victory. They did not knight women. She did get a thank you note from the Pope, but that was it.

It was not that she turned away from her faith, but she knew if Italy became divided, her children would never have peace. As Kirstie often said, trade was better, and trade works, or as her Kairos self said in many lifetimes, peace was better than war. And she knew the way Muslims and Christians viewed the world and everything in it was incompatible. There might always be war between the two, sad as that would be for the human race, but at least she could help keep her corner of this world from all that bloodshed.

Yasmina had some pieces of the Koran which she diligently read. She kept her Islamic traditions in Italy, and celebrated all the festivals, at least as well as she could. It was hard to fast on Ramadan when the children came along, and especially when Francesco’s mother cooked a huge meal for the whole family after church on Sunday. Mama Rosita lived in a castle-sized house, but then the woman had eleven children, so the room was needed. Francesco was the third child, the second son.

Interestingly enough, Francesco’s father, uncles, and all the boys, brothers and cousins accepted her right away. A few were jealous of Francesco. Yasmina was very pretty. It took the women longer to get adjusted to this foreign girl. Mama Rosita and Francesco’s older sister, Maria were especially stubborn. They finally softened when Yasmina had sons. Peter was first. Antonio, a well-used family name, came two years later. They did not fully accept her, though, until she had a daughter, Sophia, and she wore a small crucifix around her neck and went faithfully to mass on Sunday besides, and she kept her head and hair covered, even if she rarely wore a veil in Italy. She worked hard to fit in with the family and the people of the town because, quite the contrary to Yasmina’s upbringing where she was ignored by her mother and father as often as not, and she only had the grandfatherly al-Rahim to care for her before Aisha arrived, in Amalfi family was the most important thing. Children mattered, so Yasmina had some adjusting to do, but in the end she decided she liked it that way.

Francesco was not the most faithful husband in the world. He loved Yasmina passionately when he was around, and she was all he wanted. But he traveled. He was part of a family of tradesmen—Italian tradesmen. And when he traveled, he often sought comfort in the arms of a local woman. Yasmina did not feel terrible about that. The women in the family understood that was normal, healthy behavior for the men. If he did not dally, like Don Giovanni, they would have thought something was wrong with him. Then again, Yasmina did not have to worry about Francesco having concubines, or a harem where she might be demoted to second or third wife, so there was that. As long as he came home and loved her when he was home, she would not rock that boat.

“Sophia,” she called to her three-year-old and the girl came up holding some wildflowers she had picked, and she smiled for her mother. Yasmina returned the smile as she took her daughter’s hand and started down the path toward home. She thought about how Kirstie ended the days of Abraxas. She completed her work in the world. In fact, Yasmina smiled for the last three days, and considered visiting Avalon herself and how wonderful that would be, but by the time she got home, Kirstie got home.

Yasmina began to cry and stayed a moment on the front porch of her home. When Kirstie found armed men in the streets, she had to sit down right there in a chair on the porch. She could hardly focus on what was going on around her. She felt as though her whole being was absorbed by events that happened thirty-one years ago in another land—in another world. The boys came out on hearing their mother. Aisha who came for a visit followed. Francesco and Castaneis were just coming up the road.

“Liv!” Yasmina shouted for no reason anyone could see. Even Sophia and the boys could not get her attention.

“Two for two,” she mumbled before she shouted, “My scimitar.” The weapon appeared at her feet. Big Sister Maria who also came for a visit raised her eyebrows at that and looked again at Yasmina like maybe something was wrong with the girl.

“No!” Yasmina banged into the arms of the porch chair she sat upon. The arm of the chair cracked, and Yasmina grabbed her own arm, and then rubbed her side. Her arm was not broken, and her ribs were not crushed, but she felt the blow like the pain was her own.

“Now. Do it now,” Yasmina cried out, and her own hand looked for a second like it was on fire before water came from her mouth, like she filled her mouth with water and then spit it out. Yasmina sighed. The job was done. It was enough.

Yasmina knew as surely as Kirstie knew that the big house in Strindlos would burn to the ground. Chief Kerga was dead. Mother Vrya was dead. Whoever remained in the village would move. The farms in the north would be attached to Varnes. The farms in the west would connect with Nidaross and Strindlos would be no more. In the future, Nidaross would be dedicated. The Jarl of the Trondelag would build there, not a fortress, but a strong house, and Strindlos would become a memory.

Yasmina wanted to cry, but her eyes went wide instead. “Gruden,” she said and practically growled. Kirstie could not twist out of the way. Yasmina tried to twist for her, but she could not. Yasmina pushed with her hand, Kirstie’s hand that still worked. She felt the sting in her belly but felt satisfied that Gruden was a dead man. Then Yasmina slid out of the chair and collapsed to the floor.

Francesco picked her up and carried her inside, to her bed. “Wilam,” she called him. She cried. She wailed, “I died.” Then she felt something she could never explain. She was not nothing. She was not something. She became like the wind, or perhaps like light, and for one brief moment she felt all the warmth and peace of her mother’s womb before the memory stopped.

Yasmina cried all afternoon and into the night. In the morning she felt a wreck, but she got up, hugged her children, gave Francesco a kiss, and began her daily routine. She said only one thing of note that morning. “Kirstie died. Now it is up to me. She did not live beyond my age so what I do from here is all new. I hope it is a good story.” Then she did not want to talk about it.

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

MONDAY

The last of the Kairos Medieval stories, the story of Don Vincenzo Giovanni, Ringmaster and his adventures in Venice, Italy, and the Holy Roman Empire just in time for Y1K. Don’t miss it. Happy Reading

*

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

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MONDAY

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

*

Medieval 6: K and Y 12 Follow, part 1 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

“Lady?” Yrsa stepped up alongside Kirstie and Wilam as they looked at the approaching islands. Kirstie looked worried. “Lady?” Yrsa prompted again.

Kirstie shook her head to bring her thoughts back to the task at hand. “I’m sorry. My mind is worried about Soren. I have never been away from him for so long.”

“Don’t worry,” Wilam assured her with a hug. “He has three grandparents to spoil him, if we include Brant’s mother, and three uncles to keep him entertained.”

“Birdie and Missus Kettle will watch over him,” Yrsa said. “Soren has known the dwarf wives since birth and loves them well.”

“I know all that,” Kirstie said, and added in a small voice, “But I miss him.”

Captain Olaf stepped up to the railing and commented, not quite catching up to the conversation. “I’m also sorry we missed them in Aberdeen. Catching all three there would have simplified things.”

“I thought we might catch all three of them,” Kirstie agreed. “But it is almost like they knew we were coming,”

“Yes,” Wilam agreed with his wife. “We will have to ask the one here in the Orkneys how they knew and slipped out to sea just before we arrived.”

Captain Olaf offered a suggestion. “They were not likely welcomed in Aberdeen and may have left before they got arrested. It might have been coincidence that we just missed them.”

“Well,” Wilam said. “At least we lost one of our slow belly boats in Aberdeen because they had trade there. We will lose another one here.”

“Well.” Captain Olaf said the same word and in much the same way. “Captain Otto has a ship like my own and many crew from Lucker. We both have some fill-in crew from Lucker and Ellingham. There will be at least two ships to the end of the journey, wherever that takes us.”

Wilam and Kirstie nodded. Yrsa kept her eyes on the port, as Brant directed the rowers and guided the ship into the bay where they would drop anchor and take a longboat to the dock.

Yrsa began to report what she saw with her good elf eyes. “It is Kare’s ship. They are making no preparations to hurry away. There are many officials in the port. They appear to be waiting for our arrival. It looks like Kare and the men of Strindlos and Nidaros are being watched.”

They stopped and dropped the anchor. Captain Olaf ordered the lifeboat to be lowered. Captain Otto stopped close to them, and he lowered his own lifeboat. The belly boat that had timber to trade for the Orkneys angled in toward the dock. The other belly boat that said they could take their trade to the Shetland Islands, or even the Faroe Islands if they had to go that far kept back from the others in a place where they could watch.

“There are men on the dock that look like soldiers,” Yrsa warned as they squeezed ten people into the lifeboat.

When the two lifeboats reached the dock, Captain Olaf went straight into merchant mode. “Torf-Einarr, my old friend. How good it is to see you again.”

Einarr Rognvaldsson, Earl of the Orkneys grunted. “Olaf.” He kept his eyes on the women who came to the dock. Olaf went with it.

“May I present Lady Kristina of Strindlos, the Maid of Lindisfarne, and her faithful companion, Yrsa.”

Einarr looked at the two in their comfortable dresses and smiled. He imagined the story he heard had to be terribly exaggerated.

Kirstie caught the look and called for her armor. It instantly replaced her dress and came with all the weapons attached, including her battleaxe. Yrsa quietly changed her dress to her leather and pulled her bow almost as fast.

Einarr’s eyes went from unbelief to shock, and he mumbled, “Your husband is waiting for you.”

“Wilam is my husband,” Kirstie said, patting Wilam on his chest. “I divorced Kare the jerk two years ago.” She marched right passed the Earl and his guard so she could yell at Kare to his face. “You idiot!”

“As soon as I found out you were following us, I stopped to wait for you. I swear,” he said.

“Men of Strindlos,” she said, looking around at the faces behind Kare, many of whom she knew. “And Nidaros,” she added for the rest. “I am ashamed of you all. You are acting like a bunch of Vanlil. It was not that many years ago we drove off the Vanlil that wanted to loot our homes and kill our women and children, and now you have gone and done it! Thoren, I am especially ashamed of you.”

Thoren stepped up. “I refused to participate. There were five of us. We kept the ship while the rest went.”

Kirstie nodded that she heard, but she noticed Einarr stepped up to listen to the exchange. “Kare. Captain Riggson has agreed to make room for our stuff once he unloads the timber he brought. You need to return everything you pirated.”

“Too late. It has all been confiscated.” Kare looked at the earl.

Kirstie turned her eyes and Torf-Einarr spoke softly. “I will keep some, but I can return some and maybe compensate a bit for what I keep.”

Kirstie knew that he would return a pittance and offer a token of compensation, but it was better than nothing. She turned back to address Kare’s crew and drew on some information her Storyteller hastily researched. “The earl here spent his first years as ruler driving the pirates away from his islands. Now you have played the pirate and you are in his hands. You should listen to what I told the captains of Strindlos. Trade works. We have a great forest full of Norwegian lumber, and animals whose furs and hides would be much appreciated by these… Orcadians. Fair and free trade makes for happy people on both sides of the North Sea.” She turned to the earl. “And happy people are not rebellious people and will defend their happy homes from invaders.” Einarr gave her a slight nod as he thought about it.

She turned again to Kare. “I am sure the earl here, or his merchants would pay a fair price for some lumber and quality furs. It would require some work and would not make you instantly rich, but you can make a good living and not worry about someone wanting to chop your head off for piracy.” She shrugged, like it was not her choice. “Personally, I would send you home with nothing. Poorer but hopefully wiser. But it is not up to me.” She turned her back on them.

“Kirstie,” Kare pleaded, and Kirstie turned back, but only to say one more thing. “Thoren, with the earl’s permission, you and your five that refused to participate in the raid on the villages can ride with us, if you want.”

Thoren looked at Kare. He looked at the earl. Then he looked at Kirstie and shook his head. “I think we may negotiate and work something out. I also believe it is important not to abandon one’s captain and crew.”

“I’ll tell Hilda you love her,” Kirstie said.

“Hilda?” Einarr asked, enjoying the drama.

“His wife,” Kirstie said.

“My wife,” Thoren said at the same time.

Kirstie turned back around and did not even flinch when Kare called her again. She called to her dress and her armor vanished. She hugged Wilam as soon as she could. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” she whispered. “I was forced into the marriage. I tried, but he was just horrible. I thank God for you every day.”

Wilam just smiled at her.

“Ahem,” Captain Olaf got their attention. “I’ve arranged with the harbor master to supply food for the three ships for a voyage of unknown duration. It is getting expensive.”

“I will pay you what I have. Money doesn’t matter. I have a family now, including a younger brother. I always wanted a younger brother.” She smiled at Wilam, but he spoke.

“Nonsense. The people of Lucker and Ellingham will pay your expenses.”

“Some of the men will not be happy that these are being let go,” Captain Otto interrupted. “Some would like to see these men hung for what they did.”

“I understand,” Kirstie said. “And they may well be hung or give their heads to the axe. The thing is it is out of our hands. The Jarl of Orkney will decide their fate.”

Captain Otto indicated that he understood, and added, “I have got a promise from the clerk to send a full accounting of the goods and any coins the earl may return or pay. It is not that I don’t trust Riggson, but he has been known to scoop some off the top as a transportation fee.”

“Delivery fee,” Kirstie said. “Not entirely unreasonable.”

“So, only one question.” Captain Olaf patted his ample old belly. “Where do we go from here?”

Kirstie nodded. “Vingevourt,” she called. He came right away and reported without being asked.

“The two ships anchored in the Shetlands for two days. They resupplied, whatever that means. Then the one with the women and the hag headed for the Faroe Islands, and the other headed toward the Norwegian shore, but just about an hour ago, the one headed for Norway turned around and also headed for the Faroe Islands. The second ship is at least a full day behind the first.”

“Odger,” Kirstie guessed. “He knew he could not go home to Vigg but imagined he might hide out somewhere in Norway where I could not find him. It took a day to realize I would find him no matter what. The elves or dwarfs would find out and tell me, wherever he went.”

“We can cut the corner by skipping the Shetland Islands and heading straight for the Faroe Islands. When can we leave?” Captain Otto asked Olaf.

“As soon as we resupply. First thing in the morning, on the morning tide,” Olaf answered.

“Lord Vingevourt,” Kirstie began, but Wilam interrupted.

“The one ship has a hag aboard?” Wilam caught the word. “Are you sure?”

“Yes indeed,” Vingevourt said in all seriousness. “A most terrible monster. I remember Lord Festuscato faced the hag prototype, the one named the Grendel, the son of the werewolf.”

“Festuscato?” Wilam looked at Kirstie.

“Me. Five hundred years ago.” She tried to whisper in Wilam’s ear.

“Grendel,” Captain Otto asked. “Beowulf?”

“That’s the one,” Vingevourt said. “But Beowulf did not finish the monster or the mother…”

“Wait. That part does not need to be told,” Kirstie said out loud. “It is a long story. Anyway, Lord Vingevourt, we will leave in the morning. With some speed, we might catch the one ship in port and the other just arriving.” She turned to the captains. “I hope we can arrive about the same time as Odger.”

“We will help,” Vingevourt said.

“Thank you for all your help,” Kirstie said. “And thank all of your sprites.”

“Our pleasure,” Vingevourt said, and the words sounded truly gleeful. He fell back off the edge of the dock and a couple of men reached out instinctively, like they were going to keep him from falling into the water before they realized what they were doing. Vingevourt disappeared in the waves.

Medieval 6: K and Y 3 Helpful Decisions, part 1 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Inga, and the disguised elf Lonn led the group of thralls and possible tenant farmers. “I acted as the go-between, if you don’t mind,” Inga said, as she came to stand on one side of Kirstie. Yrsa and Alm stood on her other side. Lonn started with the introductions.

The first couple, an older couple had a sixteen-year-old boy who did not appear to be the shiniest apple in the bin. “They are from Sula, an inland village that was attacked by the Jamts in that year. They have not had good fortune in that place and thought the new village on the Nid River might give them a fresh start. My thinking was they would do well on the far property next to the long field. The woman can keep the garden, the men can plant the small fields on that property, and the boy can keep the sheep where most of that land is better suited to pasturage.”

The second couple was a young couple with a two-year-old baby girl. “They are from Lundar on the Gaul River, again an inland village where the men feel no need to go to sea or go to war. Their story is simpler. They are the younger ones in big families. There is only so much arable land in that place, and though the dowry is small, they hoped to find a place of their own in the new town. I believe they will do well here on the near property where the land is better for crops. They might keep a few cows for the milk if they choose to have a big family of their own.”

The young mother stepped up. “Oh, Lady. I have seen the home. It is like a dream come true.”

Kirstie looked serious and spoke without any sense of jesting. “My husband is captain of a longship and a hard man given to talk down on those he considers beneath him. As long as you don’t rile him, you should be fine.” she let that thought sit for a minute in case one or both couples decided to back out. Lord Amber took the silence to step in.

“I have drawn up contracts. Since you own the properties, not your husband, the tenants will be responsible to you alone. The agreement explains how after so many years of good service the land can become their property. Meanwhile, they have full use of the land and house as long as they remain tenants in good standing. Trust me.” He said that last to Kirstie since he knew she had not read the agreements. She signed everything. When the couples made their mark, because they were unable to read or write, Kirstie, much to her surprise, received five silver pieces from each, and they smiled about it.

“Oh Lady. I just know working for you will be wonderful. You need not worry. We will work hard and do a good job. You’ll see.”

“Your name?” Kirstie asked because the introductions went by too fast.

“Tove,” the girl said.

“Tove,” Kirstie said the name. “And Helga.” She pointed to the older woman in the first couple, who nodded. “It is my intention to stay home for many years to come, but you should know, I am a shield maiden and a navigator. The time may come when I may have to go to sea maybe for months, or even a year or longer. In that case, Inga, our Volva will watch over the properties, and Yrsa here will run the farm and the properties. Or if Yrsa chooses to sail with me, Alm will be your boss. Under no circumstances will you work for my husband.”

“And your children?” Tove asked.

“I have only a son, but if it is children, they will stay with my friend Hilda while I am away.”

“Oh,” Tove looked disappointed and her husband, which Kirstie thought was Sven, spoke on her behalf.

“My wife loves children. She wants to have another right away.”

Kirstie, having just survived childbirth, thought presently that one was enough. “And these last two?” Kirstie said to change the subject.

“Gustavs and Thomas,” Lonn said. “Gustavs is the elder. He is from Latvia in the east. Thomas’ heritage is from Strathclyde in the west, but he has been a thrall since birth. Gustavs worked a farm in the north where the old owner died, and the son got killed in the attack on Howick. The old woman could not afford to keep him. Thomas was second generation in service to a family that fell afoul to the king. They had to sell some thralls to meet the king’s demands. I will also say, the woman of the house was sorry to see Thomas go. He was a good and faithful worker.

“I will do a good job for you,” Thomas said.

Kirstie acknowledged his pledge but turned to Gustavs. “I was there. I told Ulf and Odger to leave Howick alone, but they were stubborn.”

Gustavs nodded, having already heard that she was a shield maiden, before his eyes got suddenly big. “You were the woman who stood alone and faced down eight ships of men before the abbey of Lindisfarne. I heard the story.”

“And you disapprove?”

“The opposite. I am third generation Christian.”

Kirstie pulled out her little wooden cross and turned back to Lord Amber. He answered her before she could ask the question. “I took a small portion of your money from the hollow of the tree. I knew it was your desire to run the farm yourself and not depend on your friends, so I had people look for suitable help as they looked for suitable tenants.”

“Thank you,” she said, and pointed to Fiona’s house. “You may wish to fix it up a bit and rearrange things a bit, but that will be your quarters.”

“Just so you know,” Lord Amber continued. “These men are yours and work for you. They are like this farm, your property. Your husband has no claim on them, and he should not have been allowed to sell Fiona and the boys. They were not his to sell without your permission. You see, he waited until you were ready to go into labor to make the sale and took all the money to pay for his ship. You could force a claim on his ship if you have a mind to do so.”

Kirstie would have to think about that. “For now, let us begin on a good note. Welcome to all of you. May your days here be filled with joy and happiness. Now, I am tired, and my son needs to nurse.” She stood and went into the house hoping that everything would work out well.

~~~*~~~

By the time Kare came back from his maiden voyage, all three properties were being well run and productive. Kare began to count up what he could gather for trade goods, but Kirstie shot down that idea first thing. “These are not your properties. These are not your tenants and not your thralls. And you owe me thirty pieces of silver for Fiona and the boys.”

“I didn’t get that much,” Kare protested.

“You owe me thirty pieces of silver,” Kirstie repeated.

Kare looked at his son but did not touch him. He looked at Kirstie and she saw the look in his eyes. He wanted to hit her, but he thought better of it. He bellowed, “You are my wife.”

“I am not your thrall.”

Kare thundered and threw a chair across the room, breaking one leg against the wall, and he stomped out and stayed away for a week.

When he came home, Kirstie softened a little and honestly still tried to make it work, but it did not take much to set him off. Over the next three years, Kare stayed home about a third of the time. A third of the time he spent sailing off to who knew where. Roughly a third of the time he spent at Nidaros.

Kirstie heard that Kare bought a home in Nidaros and moved his girlfriend Randi into the place. She also heard he started hanging out with another girl named Thurid. Kirstie never threw their names in Kare’s face, though she was tempted often enough. Kirstie tried to make it work, but honestly, it got to where it did not take much to set her off either.

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

MONDAY

Yasmina has some thoughts about marriage and children, and Kirstie wants a divorce. Until then, Happy Reading

*

Medieval 5: K and Y 20 Misdirection, part 1 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Yrsa woke Kirstie after roughly six hours of sleep. The late spring sun looked ready to rise, and Kirstie asked first thing, “Has the island been evacuated?”

Yrsa had to pause and sense her surroundings before she answered. “I don’t think so. There seem to be humans in a big room not far from here, yelling. I can feel the anger and upset from here, but I can’t hear their words, exactly, so I can’t tell you what it is about.”

Kirstie stood and touched her dress. “Fresh and clean, and no wrinkles,” she said, and the dress complied. “Too bad I can’t make my body do the same thing.” Yrsa nodded, but Kirstie felt it was not exactly fair. Yrsa always looked fresh and clean. “So, we go and find out,” she said, though she could guess. She walked into the run-down church, really a chapel overlooked by the ruins, and arrived in time to hear what the abbot said.

“But we are a small community. We have no riches. Most of our land has been taken from us, and we no longer have any influence on anyone. Why would anyone come here looking for gold and silver? I have prayed about this, and the Lord has assured me this holy island will not be despoiled for as long as I am here. Why would you come now and tell such mean and awful lies, and stir up so much trouble among the people?”

“He is not lying,” Yrsa said.

Father McAndrews mumbled something followed by a whispered “Forgive me.”

“Well then,” Kirstie shouted, interrupting the men, and gaining all of their attention. “I have my work cut out for me.” Kirstie called and became clothed in her armor and weapons. The men in the chapel shouted in response, except Father McAndrews who appeared to nod. Yrsa changed more subtly to her leather but pulled her bow seemingly out of thin air. “Come on, Yrsa. We have to see if we can stop almost four hundred men from despoiling this place.” Kirstie stopped in the doorway. “No promises on my part.”

Father McAndrews spoke. “I pray that those who are with you are more than those who are against you.”

“Good choice,” Kirstie said, and they left the building.

Kirstie contacted Fardlevan as soon as they were outside. She asked him to keep track of the progress of the longships. He said they were not far offshore and headed straight for the rise between the chapel and the old end rock. They would have to come uphill to reach the monastery and the ruins, but with more than three hundred and fifty men, they had ten times the number of men, women, and children left on the entire island, and of the thirty-five humans that refused to escape to the mainland in the nighttime low tide, twenty were unarmed monks and the rest were relatively unarmed fishermen..

Kirstie sat on the edge of the rise where the chapel stood. She found the remains of a wall in that place and sat atop the wall to wait. In front of her, between her and the sea, a flat and open space reached all the way to the small cliff and rocky shoreline. The Viking ships landed carefully along the rocky shore, and most dropped their anchors to steady the longships. a few men were left on each ship, but most came to shore and climbed the short cliff easily enough.

Kirstie got down from the wall to face them, and Yrsa joined her. Kirstie pulled her battleax, set the handle on the ground, and gripped the top of the axe with both hands, like one might hold a cane. Then she waited and growled a little.

When the men came to field, they saw her, and some stopped to look at their captains and skipari. Ulf, Harrold, Odger, and the two captains Kirstie did not know well did not stop. Rune, Jarl, and Bo Erikson paused. Kirstie concentrated. She did not want to burn Yrsa. She did not want to burn the men if she could help it. “Close your eyes,” she told Yrsa, and let a touch of the sun the god Fryer gave her out from her pores. She tried to direct it toward the front and not toward Yrsa.

The men across the way all yelled and shouted. They covered their eyes and felt what little heat did go with the light. Some sounded angry. Some sounded afraid. But they all stopped moving forward which is what Kirstie wanted. She quickly yelled as she stopped the light, hoping at least the ones who mattered would hear.

“You will not desecrate this holy island. These few monks have lost their property. They are barely able to grow enough for their daily bread. They have no gold and no silver. You have come here for nothing. Turn around and leave this place and leave these holy men alone or suffer the wrath of God.”

The angry men responded. “That won’t satisfy Cnut. We won’t get paid. You are lying.”

Captain Ulf raised his voice. “Which god?” Everyone grew silent.

“God almighty, father of our Lord Jesus the Christ,” she answered.

“And are you champion of this lord and god?” Ulf asked.

“We are here,” Kirstie heard behind her. Father McAndrews and three of the monks came to stand with her and Yrsa.

Kirstie turned her head and quietly commanded, “Stay here.” She stepped ten paces from the wall and shouted. “And you, Captain Ulf from Steinker, are you champion for these men or are you afraid and a coward?”

Plenty of eyes turned to Ulf and saw him spit. He came out from the group and stepped forward to meet her. “You insult me. Now I will have to kill you.” Njal the giant followed his captain a few steps behind.

As Kirstie stepped forward to meet Ulf in the middle of the open field, she mocked the man. “You need to fight two against one? That is hardly fair, even for a coward.”

Ulf looked back when he stopped to face Kirstie. “Stay out of it,” he told Njal before he spoke to Kirstie. “Njal is my second, just to make sure you don’t cheat.”

“So, I get a second,” Kirstie said.

“You have your girl.”

Kirstie shook her head. “To make things more even,” she said and called, “Vortesvin.” The troll appeared behind her and took a few moments to orient himself to where he was and what was happening. Vortesvin came still covered in his glamour of humanity, so he looked like an eight and a half foot true giant, not like Njal who was merely a tall man. Vortesvin came in work clothes complete with a floppy straw hat, and he only carried a hoe, but he was not only a foot and a half taller than Njal, he looked much wider as well, with muscles like the incredible Hulk. Njal took two steps back and likely considered turning around and running away.

“Vortesvin. You are not to interfere. You are here to observe, and make sure Ulf does not cheat, and see that Njal does not interfere either. If Ulf cheats or Njal interferes, you have my permission to rip them to shreds.”

“Yes, Lady.” The slight growl in the words of Vortesvin did not help Njal one bit, or Ulf for that matter.

Kirstie pulled her shield from her back, raised her battleax, and stood at the ready. Ulf pulled his sword and did not bother with his shield, like he thought this would not take long. He came at her with three quick strokes and forced her back. She swung her axe at his head, and he jumped back. She swung at his legs, and he jumped back again. He got mad and came at her, but she blocked his sword with her shield and swung again for his neck. He avoided the hit, but she scraped his shoulder and tore the leather. If this had been a more modern duel, first blood would have ended it in Kirstie’s favor, but this was not really a duel. Someone would die.

Ulf stepped back to think. Maybe this won’t be so easy, and he pulled his shield. Both combatants paused as an arrow flew passed. Someone in the line of men cried out. He was one of Ulf’s crew. He grabbed his chest where Yrsa’s arrow pierced his heart. His own arrow left the bow but did not travel far as he dropped the bow and fell over, dead.

“Cheater,” Kirstie said, and Ulf roared and rushed her, landing blow after blow. It hurt her left arm to fend off the sword with her shield. Kirstie got a couple of blows against the man which kept him from simply overpowering her, but sometimes he used his shield like a club, and she kept backing up because of it. Finally, she swung a hard blow to the top of his head, but he got his shield up in a way that caught the blade. Her axe busted the metal border and stuck fast in the top of the boss. Ulf grinned and yanked the axe right out of Kirstie’s hand. It smarted something terrible.

The axe flew to the ground, and after a moment to examine his broken and cracked shield, he threw the shield after the axe. He got both hands on his sword where he could take advantage of his superior strength. He grinned at her. He thought he had her, but Kirstie called, and her sword, salvation, vacated the sheath and flew to her hand. Ulf paused in wonder, but it was what Kirstie needed. She moved her shield to her right arm and gripped her sword with her left hand.

Ulf came at her, swinging wildly. Again, she backed up and turned toward his sword side, so he kept having to turn to get at her. She did use her shield as a club a couple of times to make him back up. She was told not to do that. It would tire her out much too quickly, but she had no choice. He was relentless, and while she tried to respond with her own sword, she eventually had her sword knocked from her weak left hand.

Finally, she tripped, or got pushed, or blocked his blow in just the wrong way. Her shield slipped from her arm as she landed on her back. His expression turned to gloating. He turned his sword to point down on her. He planned to pin her to the ground like a bug. He stood over her, but he forgot. Kirstie called the sword to her hand, and as he struck down, she shoved her sword up into his middle even as she twisted and sat up, so his blow missed her completely.

Ulf’s eyes got big. Kirstie used her foot against the man’s chest to pull her sword from his middle. She pulled some of the man’s insides with it, and he fell on his back to bleed out.

Medieval 5: K and Y 19 Taken by Strangers, part 2 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Yrsa kept her elf ears wide open. She reported that she did not hear anyone say anything to suggest they were seen. Soon enough they got swallowed by the dusk and all but disappeared, a mere speck on the water. Father McAndrews said they were in danger of striking rocks until they got beyond the islands altogether, but Kirstie had something in mind. The women stopped rowing and pulled up the oars.

“Fardlevan,” she called, and realized the water sprite must have been following them as he jumped straight to the edge of the boat and saluted. “Fardlevan, this is Father McAndrews of Lindisfarne. Fardlevan, the water sprite of the Farne Islands.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Fardlevan said, pleasantly. “I’ve watched the good father go back and forth from the island of the monkeys and this island lots of times. I guessed the poor father can’t make up his mind.”

“No… Well, sort of. I’ve thought about taking up the hermitage, but I don’t feel the lord is calling me to that. I’m just not sure what call there is on my life now that I have aged a bit.”

“Aged like a good wine, maybe,” Yrsa said as she finally just about got the water out of the bottom of the boat.

“They are monks, not monkeys,” Kirstie corrected the sprite. “And we need to get to the Holy Island to warn the people there. The Vikings are coming in the morning to steal, kill, and destroy.”

“That sounds bad for the poor mudders who live on the interruption in my beautiful sea,” Fardlevan sounded distressed. “They live such short lives as it is.”

Kirstie agreed and asked. “Can you help us get there safely, help us avoid the rocks and all?”

“Better,” Fardlevan perked up. “We can take you there. Keep your oar things in the boat and we can make a current and carry you through the deep water to the shore.” The sprite jumped back into the water and in a moment, the boat began to move. It soon got dark enough so they could not honestly see where they were going, but Yrsa and Kirstie trusted the sprite completely so Father McAndrews hardly knew what to say.

“The sea and the sky are my friends,” Kirstie told him again.

“Still, it would be nice to see where we are going,” Father McAndrews said and looked out into the growing darkness.

Yrsa let out a yawn and said, “We are far enough away from the men and putting an island between us and them. A little fairy light should not give us away.” She rubbed her hands together and produced a fairy light that she let float in the air. She pushed it out in front of the boat. It did not light up the whole area, but it stayed a few feet up in the air and out front so they could see where they were headed.

Kirstie had to concentrate before she began to glow like moonlight. She kept as much heat out of her light as she could. Father McAndrews hardly blinked when Kirstie said she was filled with a piece of the sun, but she could tone it down. “I am a fire starter,” she reminded the man.

He just nodded. “And your maid?”

Kirstie thought about saying Yrsa was also gifted at some point. It was why they ended up together, or basically, a lie, but Yrsa spoke first.

“I’m an elf,” Yrsa admitted. “A light elf not made to wander around in the nighttime.” She let out another small yawn.

Father McAndrews did not look surprised. “But you are mostly human.”

“I am completely human,” Kirstie said sharply before she softened her voice. “I have just been gifted way beyond what I deserve.”

Father McAndrews smiled. “I was right the first time. You two are much like angels, anyway.” He turned to watch their progress. Two hours later they docked at the abbey on Lindisfarne and Kirstie thanked her water sprites for their good help.

Men, mostly monks came to the dock, having seen the lights. Yrsa extinguished her fairy light right away and said now she was really tired. Kirstie took a minute to figure out how to turn off her glow and agreed with Yrsa. “Is there a place to sleep?” she asked. “They won’t be here for at least six hours. They will probably come with the high tide when the walkway is covered with water.”

The men on the dock, some with weapons did not know what to say. Kirstie and Yrsa were dressed in their blue and green dresses, and Father McAndrews scolded the men for even having weapons. He got their attention when he said, “The Vikings will be here first thing in the morning. Any who wish to leave better hurry while the walkway is safe and while they can. But first, we need to see these angels housed and left to sleep, and then I need to see the abbot, so someone needs to be brave enough to wake him.”

“If the ladies will follow me,” one monk said. His fellow monk carried a torch.

Kirstie nodded her agreement, though she could hardly be seen in the torchlight. She considered what she could do to prevent a bloodbath. Nothing she could think of. She would have to decide what to do when she saw where they men intended to land, and when she learned if there were people foolish enough to not leave when they had the chance. “Good night sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest,” Kirstie said to Father McAndrews, and she joined Yrsa in following the two monks. The cobblestone walkway from the docks was rough and not well kept. The monks knew where to put their feet, but Kirstie and Yrsa needed to watch their feet. Kirstie made her flashlight hands to help, and only one of the monks let out a sound of surprise. Kirstie figured the other was the silent type.

They soon came to a room with several cots. The women did not say anything. They made beelines to the cots, laid down, pulled up blankets, and turned their backs on the monks. The monks hardly got the door closed before they were both asleep.

Yasmina

Al-Din and Francesco snuck into the garden to see the girls. Badroul could barely contain her excitement. She never did anything so naughty before. Yasmina looked at it differently. She knew if the boys got caught, they would lose their heads.

“Badroul,” al-Din whispered too loud. Abu the Jinn assured the boys that the guards, Suffar, and the governor would all be busy with other tasks and not have their eyes on the girls. The garden wall was not a hard climb. “Badroul.”

“Hush,” Yasmina said. “The guards are busy, not deaf.”

Badroul flew into al-Din’s arms. Their kisses were the tentative kisses of youth, but they got the hugging part down pretty well.

“You didn’t fly into my arms,” Francesco objected.

“You are still a stranger to me,” Yasmina responded, though she reached for the man’s hand and took him to a bench mostly hidden by the bushes. She looked down the whole time, even when they sat, side by side. He never took his eyes off her. Yasmina felt some anger at herself. She was not this shy. She forced herself to look the man in the eye and he responded.

“I know that you are a beautiful young woman.”

“You can’t see more than my eyes. How do you know what I look like?”

“I have a good imagination,” he said. “Back home, there are nuns who walk around in tent-like clothing such as yours, and they often cover their faces. Young boys have learned to use their imagination. It is a terrible, sinful thing to do, but all the boys do it. It can’t be helped. Beyond that,” he said and briefly looked away. “They say the eyes are the window to the soul and I can see the beauty inside your eyes. I believe that is the important part.”

Yasmina kept wanting to turn her head away. Her face wanted to redden, but she steeled herself and answered him. “Is that how the Romans conquered the world, through flattery?”

“No, that was hard work. The thing that made it worthwhile was occasionally finding things worth flattering.”

Yasmina smiled beneath her veil but got serious. “Can we come back to reality now? I still don’t know you.”

“But I know you,” Francesco said. “I have seen you around the home of Ala al-Din, my friend. I have seen how well you treat the servants and slaves, how you care for your horse, and how gentle, kind, and loving you are. There is much more to you, I am sure, but I believe it can only be good.”

“Ha!” Yasmina scoffed, but she nearly laughed.

Medieval 5: K and Y 19 Taken by Strangers, part 1 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

In the morning, when the sun rose and Father McAndrews and the girls finished their Haddock with a bread and water breakfast, the girls hugged the old man, promised not to give him away, and headed back toward the ships. Kirstie offered a thought.

“Even if we end up staying here for a week, he should be all right with the smoked fish we left for him.”

“And the full water bucket,” Yrsa said, and then she added, “Have you thought about what you are going to do about you-know-who?”

Kirstie looked at her friend and shook her head. “Danna, the mother goddess says she is ready when the time comes, but I don’t see what else I can do. He has had three chances to do the right thing and go over to the other side, and three times he has refused. He seems determined to be worshiped and bring humanity back under the old way of the gods, his gods. This cannot be. The old way has gone, and the new way has come.”

Yrsa nodded slightly but said nothing.

“Kirstie!” Kare, of all people, saw her first and ran to her. He grabbed her and sort of hugged her before he angrily grabbed her by the upper arm and dragged her into the camp. “We were worried about you out there in the rain and the dark. We searched for you until it got too dark to see and the rain came hard. Where did you go? What did you do all night?” He showed concern, but anger as well, like how dare she run off without him right there to watch her.

“You must be hungry,” Thoren said, but Kirstie shook her head.

“Kirstie called a fish from the sea,” Yrsa said. “We found a place to shelter, and she made a fire so we could cook the fish. We are fine.”

All Kirstie could think was at least Kare knew how to hug.

“Come on,” Kare said. “Captains Ulf and Odger came in early this morning, and he has called the captains together for a meeting.” Kirstie arrived in time to hear something very disturbing.

“Cnut remains a believer in the old ways, and he is fighting against this Christian business as much as against the kings in the land. He knows Lindisfarne is responsible for reaching the people with the Christ. He wants it utterly destroyed. He wants to finish the job Halfdan Ragnarsson started twenty-five years ago. I figure after twenty-five years the monks have had plenty of time to refill their coffers with plenty of gold and silver, and that will be ours to take.”

“So, to understand,” Harrold said. “You are telling us now that Cnut is not concerned about Bamburgh. Lindisfarne has been the target all along, only you are just now telling us.”

“No. The raiding was an important first part of the deal, but I figured we needed to keep one eye focused on the king’s city in case he did send the army after us. Now I figure all eyes will be focused south from here and no one will be looking north toward the monastery, so ruining the place should be easy.”

“And Cnut won’t pay us unless we destroy the monastery. Is that so?” Jarl said.

“Basically,” Ulf said, but he said it in a way like he was surprised anyone might object. “Look, there is no rush. Let my crew rest today and tend their wounds. We can sail to the island in the morning and still take them completely by surprise.”

No one said any more. Kirstie and Yrsa backed away. Unfortunately, Kare and Thoren stayed right with them.

Kirstie whispered. “We have to get free and get Father McAndrews. We have to warn the people of Lindisfarne.”

“Thank you, Lady. I was thinking the same thing but did not know if I should say it.”

They began to make plans.

Near the end of the day, Kare left their little camp to talk to Harrold. Thoren stayed by the fire to watch the girls, but Kirstie imagined she would have no other chance. “Now,” she whispered and stood.

“Where are you going?” Thoren asked.

“To relieve myself?” Kirstie said.

Thoren looked closely at their faces and said something Kirstie did not expect. “You better hurry before Kare gets back.” They hurried.

“He knew we were leaving the camp” Yrsa said.

“Not necessarily,” Kirstie tried to object.

“He knew we were leaving the camp,” Yrsa repeated. “I would say he knew we had found a way to get to Lindisfarne and warn the people, and he let us go to do that.”

“So, like he said, let’s hurry.” Kirstie thought Thoren was a better man than Kare. She did not mind the man marrying Hilda.

When they reached the shore and cave, and explained what was happening, Father McAndrews panicked a little. He calmed when he said the journey in his little boat only took a couple of hours.

“So, no need to rush,” Kirstie said. “They won’t move out until tomorrow morning. We can have supper first and you can pack before we go. Where is the boat?”

Father McAndrews took them to the edge of the cave and pointed down. “There. in the hollow space between that big rock and the cliff. It is covered against the rain and any breakers big enough to wash over the big rock, but that only happens in the worst of storms. Last night was not so bad.”

Kirstie nodded. She built up the fire while Yrsa fixed the second haddock, the smaller one. Small was fine since they would not be saving any for breakfast. Somehow, she managed to remove the smokey flavor, so it tasted like fresh caught.

“How did you do that,” Father McAndrews asked.

“Secret old family recipe,” Yrsa answered, and Father McAndrews did not pry.

When they had eaten, Father McAndrews said they better hurry. “The sun will set in an hour and we want to be well out of these islands by then. There are rocks in many places to avoid and I have to be able to see the landmarks.”

Kirstie shook her head. “Better we leave after dark, so we won’t be spotted by our people.”

“That would be dangerous,” Father McAndrews countered.

“Have faith,” Kirstie said, and they waited until it was nearly dark, and only moved because they heard men talking and shouting, scrounging around on the clifftop.

“Quiet and careful,” Kirstie said and went first down the rocks that made something like a very steep and narrow stairway. They uncovered the boat when they heard the men overhead get louder. They got the boat in the water when one man shouted. They found the cave.

Kirstie and Yrsa sat side by side and each took an oar. They would not let the old man row. Kirstie said he had to stay in the bow and spot their direction, to tell them left or right to avoid the rocks. Getting out into the sea between the islands took some effort, but the father had been correct in his assessment. The waves below the cave were not nearly as strong or high as elsewhere, though the boat still bobbed up and down like a cork.

Medieval 5: K and Y 18 Unexpected Meetings, part 1 of 4

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

When the men got back to their ships, they asked the men left to guard the ships if they had any trouble from the locals. The men said they were not disturbed.

“We had men up on the hills there and there. A couple of fishing boats came in our direction, but not passed the mark where we could be seen. Nothing on land as far as we know.

Ulf took that as an invitation to plunder Howick. He sailed by the village a couple of times, which is how he knew about the cove, but the people there seemed vigilant in their sea watch. It never occurred to him before to park his ship up the coast and attack the village from the land side.

“We can be in and at their throats before they know we are there,” Njal the giant said, and smiled about it.

Captain Erikson said he was not going. He said the plan worked well. They got in and out, enriched themselves, and did not have to fight. “My crew is intact, and I would like to keep it that way. Besides, the others will be expecting us in the Farne Islands. We need to get moving while we can.”

Captain Odger decided to join Ulf on the venture, which left it up to Harrold. Toke kept the crew in line, but never offered an opinion on the captain’s decisions. Kirstie sometimes called the man Smee. Kirstie said she was not going and Yrsa supported her. Thoren volunteered to watch the girls. Kare got angry. He wanted to go, but in the end, Harrold decided to head for the Farne Islands with Captain Erikson. Most of his crew from Strindlos looked relieved, and Harrold did not grumble about it too much.

They spent the early morning dividing the loot they gained so each ship carried roughly the same amount. When they later arrived home and divided that into individual shares, no one would get rich. They wished Ulf and Odger luck and rowed out to sea. Once they set the sail, the men could relax, and most of them slept. They had been up about twenty-six or more hours by then.

“Lady,” Yrsa said. Kirstie hoped she did not want to start a long conversation.

Kirstie got as comfortable as she could on the deck before she asked, “What?”

“You know you spoke with Wilam and the people in the village in English, not the Norse we speak at home.”

“I did?” Kirstie thought for a minute and realized what Yrsa said was true. “I did. I guess Elgar helped with that.”

“I was thinking maybe Lady Alice from Avalon might have given you the language.”

Kirstie thought some more. “No? Maybe.” She shrugged.

“Avalon must be lovely,” Yrsa said. “I would love to go there one day.”

“Someday,” Kirstie responded. “But right now, I would like to get some sleep.”

Yrsa groused. “But I’m a light elf. I had a hard time marching through the dark time, but now that it is light time, I can’t sleep.”

“Good,” Kirstie said. “You can take my watch.” She turned on her side and promptly fell asleep.

Once in the Farne islands, they quickly found Rune, Jarl, and the two captains that sailed with them to the Coquet River. Frode mostly told the story with only a few interruptions.

“We got to the river mouth and had to wait a day for everyone to catch up, but we found a swampy area not too shallow for our ships, where we could cover and hide them from watchful eyes. We left five from each crew behind to guard the ships and took a hundred and seventy men to strike the village. We moved in the night, north to the Ain River. It was tricky moving between the city of Rothbury and Burling on the coast without being seen. But once we reached the Ain and had rested, we attacked the village and took them completely unprepared. They surrendered, and we gathered all their things. About a hundred men under Jarl then went down the Ain to the next village and attacked them as well.

“We got so much stuff, we could hardly carry it all,” Jarl said.

“We took weapons and knives, plus some things for the farm and home,” Frode continued.

“And mostly whatever silver coins they had, and any gold,” Rune added.

“Then came the tricky part,” Frode said and paused in case he got interrupted again. He continued. “We left the area near sundown and hurried through the night. A troop came out of Rothbury, maybe two hundred, and maybe a hundred men came from Burling. The stragglers reported seeing the men behind them, but they were all going the wrong way, toward the Ain River where they assumed we had our ships.”

Jarl interrupted again. “I imagine by the time they figured it out, we were back at our ships and sailed into the North Sea. We made a wide swing around to stay well away from the shore so we would not be spotted if they sent out their own ships to sail the coast, looking for us. In any case, we did not see them and arrived here a day before you. We spent that day dividing our loot, so each ship got an equivalent amount of the take.”

“So, tell me,” Kirstie spoke up loudly to get their attention. She was concerned about her own captains, Jarl and Rune. “How did you feel about attacking innocent civilians and stealing everything they had?”

“That wasn’t the way of it,” Frode began, like he had it all rationalized and justified in his mind.

“The people surrendered,” Jarl said. “And we rounded them up and held them in the village open market while we searched their houses and buildings. Only a few of the men who resisted got killed.”

One of the captains Kirstie did not know spoke. “I am sure their king will help replenish them for their losses. Meanwhile, we did our job, and with minimal killing, as you said.”

Kirstie looked again. He must have been at the meeting in the big house. “And you think if we got raided, King Harald Fairhair would compensate us?” People looked away. No one thought that. “I don’t recall any help when the Vanlil attacked us.”

Rune spoke again, but quietly. “No women got abused, as far as I know.” He felt he had to say that for Kirstie’s sake.

“I never thought of it that way” Harrold said. “I just saw them as people, like enemies, people who had things we wanted and needed, and they were greedy and not willing to share.”

“Trade works,” Captain Erikson interjected. “Fair trade can get us what we need without all the killing.”

 “But we don’t have much the people here want or can’t get for themselves,” One of the captains protested.

“Besides,” Frode said. “We are getting paid to do a job.”

“Like mercenaries,” Leif said. “That is an honorable occupation.”

Kirstie kept her mouth shut. The debate about whether or not it was honorable to kill for money would have to be saved for another time.

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

MONDAY

Kirstie finds a hermit on the island and Yasmina and company arrive in Alexandria where they find a surprise. Next time. Happy Reading.

 

*

Medieval 5: K and Y 17 Surprises, part 3 of 4

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Kirstie looked at the men who were all watching the exchange. She saw that Yrsa had her eyes on the village and the people starting their day. Those people might have looked and wondered who these women were, but they did not stop to ask. Kirstie looked again at Wilam and motioned for him to come away from the others.

“Excuse me, fellows,” Wilam said and stepped toward Kirstie. Kirstie grabbed his hand and dragged him well out of earshot. She looked at him and hardly knew what to say, or how to say it, so she just blurted it out.

“There are a hundred and fifty Vikings back on the hillside ready to overrun this village as soon as I return to them.” She looked up into his eyes and began to babble. “Some of them are good men, from my home village of Strindlos, but if you try to resist them everyone will get killed. They are being paid to cause panic in the countryside. King Cnut of York wants Northumberland in a panic. He imagines negotiating with your king to make an alliance, to watch the coast against those terrible Norsemen. He plans to put his men along the coast and eventually betray and overrun Northumberland for himself. What can we do? Some of the men with me are not so nice. They are pagans in search of gold and silver and will not hesitate to attack the church and any young women they can find. What are we going to do?”

“Wait here,” Wilam looked determined. He stepped back to his small group of men who never stopped staring at the three of them, because Yrsa stayed with her mistress. Kirstie stood, feeling exposed in the street. She moved up to stand beside Wilam.

“You have to get the young women out of town, and your priest if you have one,” she interrupted the men.

Wilam turned to her, and he still smiled for her which at least meant he was not mad at her. “Believe it or not, we planned for this possibility. Of course, we imagined we might get word when they were a couple of hours away and headed in our direction, but this will do.”

One older man looked unconvinced. “Can you prove what you are saying?”

Kirstie did not hesitate. She called for her armor and became instantly outfitted for battle with all her weapons attached. “If you resist you will get everyone killed. Some of the Norsemen are terrible mean ones. Also, they need to find enough silver and gold and precious items to satisfy them, or they may chase you into the wilderness.”

After getting over their shock at her transformation, the men scattered. Wilam stayed with her and walked her to the edge of the village. She smiled for him, thinking he did not even raise an eyebrow at her change from pretty girl in a blue dress to shield maiden ready to chop someone’s head off.

“Got any more of those gnomes hanging around?” Wilam asked.

Kirstie shook her head. “Just my elf maid.” She pointed to Yrsa who was back in her leather and had her bow in her hand, though no arrow on the string.

Wilam nodded to her, and Yrsa responded. “Pleased to meet you,” and she smiled and bowed her head a little for the man. Kirstie saw that sign of respect and knew she was in trouble. Elves were very perceptive. They would like anyone she liked, or at least they would not play any tricks on such a person, and they would respect and defer to anyone she loved. It was self-defense on the part of the little ones. They did not dare mistreat someone loved by their goddess. But it was also a natural response led by their goddess. They reflected her feelings on such things.

Wilam reached for Kirstie’s hand again, and she gave it to him with her smile. “You are a deep and unfathomable woman, and I would like to get to know you better.”

“Get Captain Olaf and come to the great fjord in Trondelag, old Prondalog and the village of Strindlos. Bring well-made items, like weapons, but also plows, farm implements, household items in glass and metal, and things like that. We are not so different. We all need to grow our daily bread.” She looked down at his hand holding her hand and smiled more deeply. They stayed like that and talked for almost an hour. In the end, Yrsa interrupted.

“Lady, we need to get back to the others.”

Kirstie nodded and backed up as a man came to them with two horses in hand. Kirstie looked and identified the man. “Brent Svenson, Captain Olaf’s skipari.”

“Brant,” the man corrected and joined in the smiling. “I thought it was you when I first saw you, but I was not sure until you changed into your armor. Do we have a hag around here?”

Kirstie shook her head. “Worse,” she said, and finished her sentence with Wilam. “And I have no control over what the men will do. Please remember that. I have done all I can to minimize the damage.”

Wilam said, “We understand.” He mounted and he and Brant rode off. Kirstie turned with Yrsa and walked back to the others.

“You all but bowed to Wilam,” Kirstie accused her maid.

“Just a feeling I have,” she responded and let out her elf-sized grin.

“Shut it,” Kirstie said, and they walked quietly until they began to climb the hill.

“You are well into your seventeenth year,” Yrsa said. “You will be eighteen soon enough. That is more than old enough for a human to be full grown and ready to mate.”

“Shut it,” Kirstie repeated.

When they got back to the men, Kirstie quickly explained how they went straight to the village center and watched. They wanted to get some notion where the people were, where the fighters were, and where the money might be. Then all at once, people began to run around like crazy. One man saw us, an elder I think, and he took us to the edge of the village. He said a farmer spotted Vikings just beyond the farm fields and they had to flee. He said they would leave their valuables in the village center with the hope that the Vikings might be satisfied and leave their village in peace. He said he did not know what business we had in the village, but we needed to get out before it was too late. We came straight back here to tell you.”

Ulf roared in anger, like a lion deprived of his rightful prey. Odger and Captain Erikson got their men up and going. Harrold said, “Hurry,” and “Quickly,” several times. They rushed to the town and caught some older men and women that were slow in escaping. They only killed a couple of them and let the rest hobble off.

Ulf wanted to follow the old ones to see if they led them to the rest of the villagers. Kirstie noticed Njal, Ulf’s giant, seemed especially interested in finding the women, but the other captains voted against that idea. The village left a nice pile of cups, glassware and silver piled up in the center. The captains sent their men to rummage through the houses and buildings, looking for anything that might be valuable back home. Several people were found and about half of them were killed.

Some houses were burned at random, and two of the buildings in the village center went up in flames. They also burned the church in town, though it was mostly stone, so it did not burn well. Kirstie was surprised and not surprised to see that mostly the men looted things for the farm and some blacksmith tools. They did not find many weapons worth stealing but took what they found. Some men were burdened down with too much loot to make the trek all the way back to their ship. Kirstie figured that would sort itself out as they walked.

Kirstie paid attention. Ulf’s men were as wild and bloodthirsty as she imagined. Odger’s` men from Vigg were more like Harrold’s men from home. They would not hesitate to fight and kill, but that was not what they were there for. They came for the silver and what they could steal. If they did not need to kill anyone, or risk being killed, that was a good thing. Captain Bo Erikson’s crew also behaved like Kirstie guessed. They might take some things they needed and probably liked being paid to do a job, but they would rather not fight and risk their lives if they could help it. They were nominally traders, not raiders as she imagined.

Gunhild, from Captain Erikson’s crew, found a silver hair clip and a good kitchen knife, or maybe an all-purpose knife. She came and brought a chair to where Kirstie and Yrsa sat and watched the madness around them. “Men have no idea,” she said.

“I bet some of their wives would love to have some well-made kitchen utensils,” Kirstie agreed. She held on to an iron poker for the fire. She almost did not get it because a man thought it might make a good weapon.

“But men don’t think that way,” Gunhild agreed.

Not long after that, they left the town behind. Kirstie knew Wilam sent riders to the nearest fortress, to the closest lord in his manor house, and all the way to Bamburgh with the news of the raid, and before the raid even happened. He said for her not to worry. The nearest one would not get back with any soldiers until nightfall, and they would not begin to follow until morning.

“So, we have until nightfall before they are anywhere near ready to follow us,” Kirstie explained why the villagers abandoned their homes. “The nearest help is too far away for quick action. They probably won’t begin to search the area until well after we have gone. If we walk into the night, we should make it to the ships before they ride out in the morning.”

Harrold understood. They did not especially need to hurry. As long as they kept to a good pace, they should be fine.

Kirstie and Yrsa led the way again. Kare and Thoren followed. Thoren appeared to have picked up some of those kitchen items they talked about. No doubt, he wanted to make Hilda happy. Kare carried a bag of silver coins he found. He grinned a lot, but he probably would not be allowed to keep it. They would put it in the pot for the distribution, and they would ignore his complaints, but meanwhile they let him carry it and think that it was his.

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

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Jarl and Leif met them at the ship. Frode also came with a boy and holding a puppy. Kirstie wondered about that, but first she had to get her things loaded. The dwarfs kindly put the things where they belonged and then sang a bit of a tune and danced their way back to the dock.

“What was that?” Leif asked. Kirstie noticed Leif kept his distance from the dwarfs and stared at them with wide eyes.

“Nothing bad,” Booturn said. “Just a good luck song and dance so you have a successful voyage.”

Kirstie had to cover her mouth, but Alm laughed. They were singing an old dwarfish song about being freed of their burden and about needing a good, stiff drink before they went back to work.

When Leif and Jarl faced Kirstie, she had something to say. “We need to leave on the morning tide. You better not sneak away this evening with all my goods.”

Jarl and Leif looked at each other, and Jarl spoke. “You know, I really am a nice person, and mostly an honest tradesman. You have to trust me if you are going to be part of my crew.”

Kirstie nodded. “I do trust you, but there are sticky fingers around here, and my dwarf friends have to get back to Svend and Fiona. They can’t stand here on guard all night.” She put her fingers to her lips and let out a great whistle. A big wave came up to the side of the boat and broke into hundreds of water sprites that clung to the railing and splattered on the deck. They looked like gelatin forms of gingerbread men. They all looked alike to human eyes, and many sounded the same, saying the same phrase in squeaky, baby-like voices.

“Lady needs us. Lady needs us.”

Leif let out a shriek. Jarl blinked, twice. Frode just smiled, and the boy next to him said, “Wow,” sounding much like Oswald and Edwin used to sound.

“Vingevourt,” Kirstie called the head sprite who stepped forward and gave the humans a mean look. “I am asking. Would you and your wave makers please keep a watch on this ship and all the goods, like the amber and the ivory, so it is all here safe and sound when I come back before the dawn?”

“It will be our pleasure to guard all these things.” The sprite saluted and several sprites saluted with him.

“Thank you. I will sleep well tonight knowing my treasures are in good hands.” She turned and began to walk away without another look. The men followed her.

“How will they stop a determined thief? Jarl asked.

“Men drown.” That was all Kirstie planned to say.

“See you in the morning,” Leif said that much and the captain and his skipari walked off on some last-minute errand.

Kirstie turned to Frode. She petted the puppy in his arms. “He is lovely,” she said, and smiled for the boy.

“She,” the boy said.

“Our buhund had a litter of puppies. My wife thought you might like one. You could use one to help herd the sheep and keep them out of the grain fields. They are also good with cattle, and boys.” He paused to smile at the boy beside him. “This is my son, Knud. I don’t know if you have met.”

“We have,” Kirstie said and also gave the boy a smile. “Let me see,” she said and reached to take the dog.

“They are wary of strangers,” he said before he realized the puppy seemed willing. “They have lots of energy and can be well trained. Unlike some people, they seem to prefer to have something to do. They can get ill-tempered if they are bored.”

Kirstie nodded that she heard but stayed focused on the puppy in her arms. Yrsa, who walked behind holding Alm’s hand poked her head forward and noted, “He likes you,” she said, even as the puppy gave Kirstie a wet lick.

“I would not worry about the puppy getting bored,” Kirstie said. “We have two overactive boys at the house, Fiona and a giant.” Frode stopped walking, but then started right away again. “Birdie, the dwarf wife keeps the clothes patched and clean. The dwarfs mostly eat and sleep. Alm, here, keeps everything together.

Frode gave a nod behind him to what looked to him like an ordinary young man. “That must be hard.”

“It is not always easy,” Alm admitted, and Yrsa leaned over to kiss his cheek.

They walked quietly for a while, and Kirstie made soft noises to the puppy who seemed happy in her arms. She thought about a baby when she talked to Yrsa about having a Yrsa baby. She thought about it again while holding her puppy baby. She tried really hard to not think about Kare, but sadly there was not anyone else she was interested in and at least he seemed interested in her.

“Ours is not a big village,” Kirstie said. “When I was growing up, Hilda was the only girl near my age. Liv, Thorbald’s daughter came along later. Fortunately, we became friends, but honestly there was not anyone else.” She leaned over a bit to speak to Knud. “Oswald just turned eleven. Edwin will be nine soon.”

“Knud is ten,” Frode said.

Kirstie nodded and asked. “You don’t mind him being friends with thralls?”

Frode answered honestly. “I hope they may become friends. Knud spends too much time alone.”

“Not true,” the boy protested. “Brunhild plays with me, and now that she has had puppies, I have my hands full.”

“Understand,” Kirstie told Frode. “I hope they may become friends, but if he treats them like thralls, like less than human, he will be sent home and not invited back.” She did not glance at Knud, but the boy heard, and he heard his father’s response.

“I would expect no less,” Frode said. “We have done our best to raise the boy right.”

“Fair enough,” Kirstie said, and they arrived.

“Lady. Lady.” Oswald and Edwin came running to see what the wiggling thing was that she held in her arms.

Kirstie held the puppy out to the boys. “This is Flika,” she said, and then she added something the others did not understand, but she was honestly answering one of her own lifetimes. “I know it is the name for a horse, but I haven’t got a horse and I like the name.” She continued. “Flika, meet Oswald and Edwin. Oswald and Edwin, this is Flika.” The dog barked. “And this is Knud Frodesson.

Frode spoke right up to the boys. “I thought Knud and I might stick around this afternoon to help Flika get adjusted to a new home.”

“The puppy is ours?” Edwin said in his excited voice while Oswald and Knud sized each other up.

Kirstie set down the puppy who was wiggling up a storm. “Why don’t you start by showing Knud and Flika the sheep pen.”

The puppy paused and looked up at Kirstie. She said softly, “Go on,” like she was giving the dog permission. The three boys and the barking puppy ran off with Alm and Frode following.

“We need to get ready to sail in the morning,” Kirstie said to Yrsa’s nod. “I hope Alm will stay with Frode in case the dwarfs or Vortesvin shows up.

“I am sure he will,” Yrsa said, and they went to the house to put a few things in a shoulder bag.

~~~*~~~

In the dark of the night, well before the dawn, Yrsa woke Kirstie with the word, “Time to go.” Yrsa yawned. She was an elf of the light and did not normally get up in the dark time.

Kirstie sat up and petted her puppy who chose to sleep in her bed. She dressed in her armor. Her weapons attached themselves and she picked up the curious puppy. They went first to the cooking fire which had been banked for an easy restart in another hour. They found some bread and water along with some leftover roast in the oven.

“I can’t imagine the dwarfs did not eat everything available,” Kirstie said.

“Oh, Fiona stole a bit and hid it in the oven for us. She knew we would be leaving early,” Yrsa answered.

“Not like the dwarf noses could not have found it,” Kirstie countered.

“She told them to stay away from it and Birdie threatened them.”

Kirstie nodded. “A threat from a dwarf wife would do it, but I imagine Toodles is watching even now to claim what we don’t finish.” Yrsa smiled as she heard the sound of shuffling in the bushes with her good elf ears.

After a bite to eat, Kirstie picked up her puppy again and went to Fiona’s house. Vortesvin slept outside by the door. He opened one eye to see who it was, but Kirstie just told him to go back to sleep. They went in. Fiona slept in the front room, and she stirred, but did not wake. The boys slept in the same big bed in the back room. Oswald did wake. Edwin almost woke. Kirstie put the dog down between the boys with a word. “Now, go to sleep.”

The puppy panted at her. Oswald laid down and closed his eyes, a smile plastered on his face. Edwin mumbled something unintelligible and slung an arm around the puppy. Flika licked the boy’s face, and that brought out his smile while Yrsa and Kirstie backed out of the room and out of the house.