Elf

Medieval 5: K and Y 9 Hiccups, part 3 of 3

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Kirstie

When they returned to Strindlos, Kirstie told Mariwood to vacate the sack of grain he had lived in for the past month while they made their way home. He made a hole in the sack where he could slip out to exercise his wings flying around the outside of the ship beneath the rail so he could stay hidden from the crew. Some crew members swore they saw something flying around from time to time, but they all assumed it was a seabird of some sort and Kirstie did not tell them otherwise. Of course, she knew he was there, but she did not bother him. Yrsa also knew he was there and slipped him a bit of fish or herring now and then when the crew ate. Yrsa did not need a full man’s portion, and Mariwood was small enough not to need much at all. It worked out.

“How did you know?” Mariwood asked, and then corrected himself. “Of course, you knew.” Kirstie just nodded and let him come to her shoulder where he could hide in her hair while they went ashore.

Inga stood on the dock waiting for her, Buttercup hiding in Inga’s hair. Surprisingly, Hilda also stood there beside a young man. Hilda knew nothing about the fairies and elves, but she was Kirstie’s old friend, her best friend, and Kirstie felt curious. Hilda was sixteen, and Kirstie imagined she wanted to introduce her boyfriend. She found out differently. Hilda married the nineteen-year-old Troels, and the girl was already pregnant.

“Married?” Kirstie shouted and hugged the girl. Kirstie was nearly fifteen, but she could not imagine herself getting married. No one but Kare showed any interest, and he was not an option in her mind. She imagined she did not have time for a boyfriend, though she also admitted the Vanlil invasion and her part in it may have scared off some of the boys. Her proclaiming herself a shield maiden and sailing off with a shipload of men did not help either. Though she also wondered if maybe Kare threatened others to stay away. That would not have surprised her. He did have some sway over the fifteen to twenty-five age group of young men. That was not necessarily a good thing for those young men.

“You must come and see our home,” Hilda said with a smile for her husband.

“I will. I promise,” Kirstie said. “But first I have to go to the big house for the dividing of the loot, and then I need to check my own house. You cannot imagine how tired I am. How about tomorrow morning? I can come for a visit tomorrow, and we can spend the whole day if you don’t mind shopping a bit. It could be just like the old days, you know, sweet sausages and all.”

“She likes to shop,” Troels said about Hilda in a noncommittal way.

Hilda looked a bit disappointed that Kirstie did not want to run and see her house right away, but she really did understand. They hugged, and Hilda took her husband off before Kirstie turned to Inga and whispered. “Married?”

Inga shrugged. “It is in the air,” she said, and as they began to walk, she added, “Buttercup wants to know who your friend is.”

“Mariwood. He came all the way from the Frisian shore,” Kirstie said. “I made the mistake of mentioning Buttercup and he said she sounded nice, and he would like to meet her,”

Inga nodded slightly so she would not knock the fairy off her shoulder. “It is in the air,” she said without explanation.

When it came to dividing up the loot, Captain Stenson said Kirstie deserved the lion’s share since it was her honey, ivory, and amber that made them rich. Kirstie insisted that she get her fair share, like any other crew member, and no more. Yrsa also got a share which she later gave to Kirstie because she said elves did not use coins or care about such things.

First, after they all marched to the big house, Captain Stenson offered a share to Chief Kerga on behalf of the village. He also set aside four shares for the four families who lost men in the battle of Bremerhaven. Finally, Captain Stenson took a share for his ship, which he paid for out of his own pocket. The rest got evenly divided under the watchful eye of the village elders. They had four pieces of silver left over at the end and gave one to Kirstie. Captain Stenson kept one and gave one to Frode.

“And the last one,” he said, and handed it to Inga. “For the Witcher Women. A contribution.”

“Here,” Kirstie said. “You can have my extra too.” She handed it to Inga and looked at Frode. Frode handed over his extra without a word, and they all looked at Captain Stenson. He gave them all a hard stare before he raised his eyebrows and sighed, an expression that became all too familiar around Kirstie. He handed Inga his extra and declared the division of the goods to be over, though it was not exactly over.

Most of the men left the big house, happy, even as Mother Vrya came in, followed by several strangers. A few men stuck around to pay Captain Stenson for the plows and farm implements they got in Frisia. Captain Stenson felt it only fair to give Kirstie another ten pieces of silver, since it was her amber, but Kirstie had another thing in mind. She divided her ten pieces in half and gave five to Frode and the other five back to Captain Stenson. “This is payment for a dozen sheep from each of you, and they better be good breeding stock, not just the old and the lame.”

Frode looked at her and could not resist asking, “So what do you have in mind for the rest of your money?”

Kirstie paused before she answered. “I need to hire a couple of men,” she said, and changed it to something understandable in her culture. “I need to buy a couple of thralls. I’m thinking there is no telling what condition my house and property are in right now since I have been away. I am going to need some help I can depend on to keep the land when I go off on the next voyage.”

“You plan to sail again?” Inga asked, though she did not really sound surprised.

Kirstie looked at Inga and glanced at Mother Vrya. “It is inevitable.”

Mother Vrya nodded, stood between the strangers and Kirstie, and turned to introduce Engel Bronson, the king’s representative, to Chief Kerga. The others with him were Bieger, Lind, and Gruden. Engel started right in.

“Since talking to you, we have spoken with the men of Varnes, Oglo, and on the Frosta Peninsula. All have said they gathered here in this meeting house, and Elgar the Saxon came here to draw up the plans to defeat the exiles and their allies.”

Kerga nodded. “We are the closest to Hladir, the king’s house, and the Nid River. We attacked the enemy from here.”

“Yet you say you do not even know where he came from.”

“I do not recall, exactly,” Kerga said, and tried hard not to look at Kirstie who stood with Inga beside Mother Vrya. Yrsa stood behind the others.

“Wessex,” Mother Vrya spoke up. “From the big island in the west. That was where he said he was from.”

Lind quickly spoke to the women. “There was a girl as well, a young blonde. She and Elgar were never seen together at the same time.”

“The child,” Mother Vrya nodded. “She traveled with Elgar. She was just a young child.”

“Her name?” Lind asked, demanding an answer. “Did she have a name?”

Kirstie interrupted and lied a bit. “Her Christian name was Katherine, why?” Everyone stopped to look at Kirstie who wore her armor with all her weapons. They glanced at Inga and Yrsa, what they could see of her, but Kirstie clearly stood out, dressed as she was, like one ready for battle. Engel Bronson stepped forward with another question.

“Several women went with the army, did they not?”

“I went with the army, with one of the Witcher Women,” Mother Vrya said. “We cared for the young child and healed what men we could. When men fight there is always so much blood.” The king’s men nodded, but Engle kept staring at Kirstie until she spoke.

“Don’t look at me. I went to fight. I am the daughter of Arne Carlson, the Navigator. Perhaps you heard of him? He died in Normandy, but you see, the sea is in my blood. In fact, I just returned from guiding my ship to the Frisian shore. We had a successful journey.” She lifted her bag of coins and rattled it. “And, yes,” she added. “I killed a man.”

“Do you remember the girl?”

“Katherine?” Kirstie appeared to think. “I remember Chief Birger and Captain Kerga here. I remember my captain Rune Stenson and Frode, his skipari. I remember being scared. It was my first battle. I’m not scared anymore.” Kirstie smiled and said, “Come on Yrsa. Let’s go home.” And they left the big house.

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MONDAY

Kirstie need to build her home to have a home, and she needs to get help around the house for when she hears of another hag and has to go away again. Until then…

 

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Medieval 5: K and Y 9 Hiccups, part 1 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

After Bremerhaven, the crew treated Kirstie like one of their own. On the way to the Weser, they were not sure how to treat her, and by extension, Yrsa. These women felt like intruders on their male bonding. They were not treated badly, knowing what Kirstie had done at the king’s house, but they did not treat her well, except the three young men who wanted to get to know Yrsa better. Kirstie was fourteen and still skinny. Yrsa looked eighteen and beautiful. Fortunately, for Kirstie, Yrsa was not interested in any of the men. That was a complication Kirstie did not need, and to that end, she only had to threaten one of the young men once.

On the way back down the Weser, Kirstie told some jokes she gathered from Giovanni, a life she had not even lived yet. They were jokes Giovanni taught Leonora, the harlequin in his circus. A couple of them were bawdy enough to embarrass Yrsa, but the men liked them.

Captain Stenson and Frode spent the day they took to sail back down the river counting all the silver they got in Bremerhaven. The guild masters had to get together and pool their money. With the fairy Aldean on Frode’s shoulder, the guilds did not have enough for all the amber, but they got a fair share of it along with all the ivory, honey and wax, furs, and leather. Only the grain remained unsold, and a bit of the amber.

At the mouth of the river, they found the same fishing boats turned out to block their way. Kirstie felt miffed at first before she thought to say, “I wonder what he wants.” Yrsa and Kirstie dressed in their dresses and waited for the longboat to be lowered. This time, there appeared to be a delegation on the shore, complete with some tents and real looking soldiers. Captain Stenson steered the longboat directly there.

When they landed, Kirstie got out of the boat and shouted, “Where’s Waldo?” She confessed to Yrsa, “I always wanted to say that, but Genevieve did it first.” Yrsa frowned, not exactly knowing what Kirstie was talking about. Kirstie just figured out that Sir Waldo showed the piece of amber to someone who knew its actually worth, and he could not let them go without seeing if they had any more.

One man on the shore looked better dressed than the soldiers around him. He stepped forward and talked to Captain Stenson and Frode by introducing himself. “I am Count Duko come from the king’s court in Utrecht. It has come to my attention that you have obtained some amber. I would like you to consider a trade if such may be arranged.” He looked back at his soldiers as if to suggest they better agree to give up the amber, one way or another, or he might just take it.

Captain Stenson put on his shrewd face, which was not very shrewd. “We only have a little left, but I think something may be arranged. Where is Sir Waldo? He seemed a reasonable fellow.”

The count shook his head. “This is the king’s business.”

Kirstie heard from Mariwood and the local elf king that they were present and available if they should be needed. Despite the implied threat of the count, she hoped they would not be needed.

“I am sure something equitable can be arranged,” Captain Stenson said.

Frode interrupted this time. “How fortunate. Since the Lady Kristina may represent the King of Norway in certain matters, having come home from the king’s house not that long ago. It is fortunate to be able to speak with a representative of the King of Frisia. Perhaps you two can share notes on the disposition of various kings.” Frode wrapped up the lies in his friendliest smile, and Yrsa, being an elf, translated the lies with a perfectly serious and unflinching face.

Kirstie played along with a kind smile and a slight curtsey, which she imagined she did a bit better than the last time. “Harald Fairhair, my king of a thousand ships and ten thousand men at arms sends greetings to the King of Frisia in the hopes that we may establish an equitable relationship for mutual benefit.”

Count Duko hesitated. He had not expected this, but he did not hesitate for long. “But your king is far away and not able to know what transpires on a foreign shore. Yours is a trade mission, not a diplomatic one.”

“A simple ruse to see if our two peoples may share in fair economic benefit for both of our peoples. Who, but the king would have access to such precious commodities as amber and ivory? Alas, we only have a small bit of amber to test the waters, so to speak, but we might be willing to fairly trade it for some of the things we need. We have resources to make us rich, but we lack some of the common commodities that make life better.”

“This is nonsense,” Count Duko decided.

“I perceive that you have no light saber,” Kirstie whispered as a handful of men rode up to the shore and dismounted right away to march to the meeting. Kirstie scooted past Count Duko, Yrsa following, and Kirstie hugged the big man. “Sir Waldo. I found you. I was beginning to be afraid you would leave me in the hands of the wretched Count Duko.” She let go and took Sir Waldo’s arm, and he patted her hand like a doting grandfather.

“Waldo. The king will have the amber these people carry, and it is none of your business,” Count Duko spoke sternly.

“This is my business,” Sir Waldo shot right back. “This is my land by the king’s decree. I am here to defend the sea and the river delta against all who would disrupt the peace. You have no right to come to my land and interfere with legitimate merchants and trading ships that I have allowed to proceed.”

The count steamed, but before he could erupt, Kirstie spoke.

“We would be glad to trade what little amber we have left if Sir Waldo is able to procure from his people the things we seek. Then I imagine Sir Waldo might sell the amber to the king to recoup his expenses and maybe a bit extra for his trouble, and it would still be far below what the amber may be worth in some markets. I am sure the lords of Lotharingie, Austrasie, Alemagne, and Burgogne would pay handsomely for the rare jewels since they have no access to northern ports to buy it directly. What say you, Sir Waldo.”

Count Duko looked at the man. Indeed, everyone looked at the man who appeared to be thinking. “What is it you seek?” Eyes turned to Kirstie who felt glad Count Duko did not outright object like a man who maybe wanted the amber for practically nothing.

Kirstie pointed to her people. “Captain Stenson, a fine captain, and his number one Frode are shepherds back home. Their families are well known for the fine wool they produce. We had some carded wool from the captain and his skipari among the furs and leather we brought, but that went to the people of Bremerhaven.” She pointed out to the ship. “As you can see, we have plenty of lumber to build fine sea faring ships. And you see the crew? They can fight like berserkers when they must, but do not be fooled by their appearance. The secret of the Norsemen is they are mostly just farmers and fishermen as well. What we would like is some quality plows and farm implements, some good quality tools, and the like such as farmers and fishermen need and use. That should not be a problem for you, though we would like to get a fair number of things for the amber we have left. We may bargain some, but we wish to make a fair deal so we may come again knowing we have an honest trading partner. I cannot say how much more amber we may be able to bring on a future visit, but you never know.”

Kirstie took a breath and looked at Count Duko. Clearly, he had not considered the idea that this might be more than a one-time event. If Waldo could get the amber for the price of some farm implements, and if he could buy it all at a modest price and sell it at a high price as the girl suggested, he could become rich, legitimately, and not have to kill anyone to do it.

Sir Waldo smiled as he thought about it. He said a couple of good plows and tools would not be a problem. Captain Stenson and Frode also smiled. It was what they mostly wanted, and it would save them the silver it would cost in the Danish or Norwegian trading centers to purchase the same things.

“I am sure something equitable can be arranged,” Captain Stenson repeated himself.

Medieval 5: K and Y 7 Buying a Ride, part 2 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Kirstie sat, so the men sat. She dressed in slacks and a simple tunic that covered the shape she was developing at her young age. The men came dressed in what may have been their best. They bathed and maybe even washed their hair. They wanted something from her and were willing to make the effort of a good appearance. Kirstie smiled at the thought of them making the effort.

“So, tell me,” she began. “How did your voyage work out?”

Captain Stenson looked at Frode before he began the story. “On our first trip, we followed the land south, thinking the men needed a good beginning and we did not want to get lost at sea,” Captain Stenson explained. “We had furs, grain, mostly wheat, and several bundles of down and feathers. We should have made a good return on all that. We visited Kupang, our own main trading center, but we lost most of our grain in the king’s tax. We gained some silver for the feathers but could not find an interest in our furs and hides, which was mostly what we had. We thought to try the Danish center of Ribe. Back when I sailed with Captain Birger, I recalled they were interested in the fur trade.”

“We headed for Jutland,” Frode interrupted. “We sailed two days down the wrong side of the peninsula before we turned around.”

“One day,” Rune insisted. “We figured it out after the first day.”

Frode shrugged. “We backtracked and went around.”

“Anyway,” Captain Stenson continued. “We found Ribe was willing to take our goods, but we hardly got their worth. We did not fail on the trip, but we hardly made any profit.”

Frode looked like he was going to complain so Kirstie interrupted. “What did you take on your second trip? I am guessing the men contributed all the furs and feathers they had for the first trip.”

“No,” Captain Stenson said. “We have brothers and sons who continued to get furs and hides over the year we were away. Trade is very much a family business. We had some grain again, though this time mostly barley, but most of what we had was bundles of carded wool from my family and Frode’s family. We thought to visit the Oyskjeggs thinking the island must have very cold winters.”

“Orkney and Shetland Islands,” Frode explained.

Captain Stenson frowned. “We landed in Danelaw, in Northumbria where they have flocks of sheep covering every hillside.” Kirstie nodded. She understood why so many of her people turned from honest trade to taking what they wanted. They simply did not have the trade goods for a good exchange.

Frode groused. “We unloaded our wool in East Anglia for practically nothing.”

“We crossed straight over the sea,” Captain Stenson said with a hard look at Frode. “We thought to hit the Danish coast but landed in Frisia near Utrecht. They came out armed against us, and we ran. Eventually we found a Frisian fishing village and the men all but rebelled. We went into the village and took a few things. A couple of good plows and farm implements, and some glassware.”

“They paid us off to go away.”

“We left our leftover wool, fur and hides there. Some good leather, so we did not actually steal their things,” Captain Stenson said. “At least I like to think of it as a trade.”

“I understand in Iberia and North Africa, quality furs like beaver, ermine, and fox pelts go for a premium price,” Kirstie said.

“But that is so far away,” Captain Stenson countered.

Frode looked at the ground. “I honestly would not know how to get there.”

“So, what do you have this time?” Kirstie asked. “Obviously, you came to me because you are getting ready for the next trip. I know right where to go if you have the right goods to trade.”

Rune and Frode looked at each other again, and Frode spoke softly. “We were wondering if you could maybe teach me what your father taught you… What?”

Kirstie simply shook her head. “I am going. I would not be the first maiden to go on a trading expedition. Besides, you will need the goods I bring to trade. Did you forget?” Kirstie called, and her slacks and tunic became instantly replaced by the armor of the Kairos with her sword at her side, her battleaxe and shield at her back, and her long knife across the small of her back. “Yrsa,” she called while Captain Stenson and Frode got over their shock.

“Lady?” Yrsa came from the other room dressed in fine leather with two knives at her side and her bow and arrows at her back. She looked ready for war. She also appeared as the elf she was, having neglected her glamour of humanity.

“You need to dress,” Kirstie said.

“Sorry,” Yrsa said and applied her glamour to appear human. Yrsa and Kirstie worked this out in advance to remind the men without frightening them too badly.

Captain Stenson started to think. “We need to take both of you?”

Kirstie stood and got the men to stand. She said little as she and Yrsa took them to the barn. She showed them what she gathered in preparation for this day. “Three large jugs of the finest honey, compliments of the Fairies of the Glen.” She unscrewed the lid of one jug and let them stick a finger in to taste the sweetness before she carefully closed it tight again. She showed them the beeswax to go with the honey before she pulled back a horse blanket and spoke. “Three pairs, six walrus tusks of good ivory, a gift of the dwarfs of the mountains. They said there is plenty more, but I would not let them kill any of the beasts. These are from walruses that died of natural causes. They are from older beasts, and you can see where a couple of them are chipped and this one is missing the tip end. Walruses, you know. They fight each other like men fight each other.”

“This is worth a fortune,” Frode mumbled, but Kirstie was not finished.

“And last,” she said and removed another blanket to reveal a basket of amber. “From Lord Amber and the elves of the woods. This is a one-time deal, but these things go with Yrsa and I, and they go where we need to go.” She paused to let the men calculate how much silver they could get for what they were looking at. “Yrsa and I will be sailing with you, and Frode, I will teach you what I can while we are on the way.”

Captain Stenson did not ponder long. “So, where are we going?” he asked, though he looked at Yrsa and wondered how such a good-looking eighteen-year-old girl might do on a voyage.

“Bremen, in Saxony,” Kirstie answered, and when they got on the ship, she made Yrsa sit in front of her where she could keep an eye on the elf maiden and wondered much the same thing as the captain.

Medieval 5: K and Y 7 Buying a Ride, part 1 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Kirstie got word through the elf and fairy grapevine that a hag was seen in Saxony, around Bremen on the Weser River. She imagined she guessed right. She would have to direct Rune’s ship to the Frisian shore and up the Weser to find the hag and put her out of business.

She looked at her hands and thought about the fire and the water that killed the hag of the Vanlil. She could start a fire by merely pointing at the wood and thinking about it. She could project a light from her hands, like two flashlights on a dark night, and could make herself glow in the dark if she wanted. Then, she could shoot the fire from her hands, or put the heat and light together, like some alien heat-ray. She only tried that once, but the result was a pile of ash where a tree once stood. Kirstie remembered when Fryer visited her, he turned a whole copse of trees into ash just by his mere presence.

She also thought about Njord’s visit. It did not seem like much at the time, but since then she found she could stay underwater for an indefinite amount of time. It was like she was breathing underwater, and she could see and even hear underwater just like she was on land. That was about the best she could describe it. What is more, she always felt warm in the water, even when it had ice by the shore. On cold and blustery winter days, she often threw herself into the ice water of the fjord to warm up. She could swim fast as a dolphin, almost like flying through the water, and she could call to any fish that were nearby. She could actually tell the fish to jump into her boat, so she always had a good catch of fish and without having to cast a net or fishing line. It felt strange that she could do these things, but she figured they were gifts and more than she needed. She knew that basically she needed the fire and the water to kill whatever hag she encountered. Kirstie pictured herself setting the hag on fire with the fire in her hands and then putting it out with the water she carried inside. That would do it, and it would be enough, as Grandfather Njord and Father Fryer said.

When Kirstie turned thirteen, she first wondered why the Norwegian hag went all the way to Jamtaland in the first place. She must have been a Norwegian from Northumbria in the British Isles; the only place Abraxas was permitted to go. She must have done a kind of reverse immigration, but she could have landed at Hof or Upphaugr on the coast in the first place and worked on the people there to invite Abraxas to come across the sea to their homes. Why travel all the way to Jamtaland where she had to invade and fight her way to the sea?

Kirstie imagined she figured it out when she thought of the hag in Bremen, and when she remembered Margueritte, a life she lived in Brittany some two hundred years earlier. Margueritte fought her own hag and found the hag gained power over the people when the celts and their druids were confronted with Father Aden and his Christians. The people became confused and no longer certain what to believe. That was when the hag stepped in with word of Abraxas, a god of the ancients, but a living god to be worshiped.

The people of Hof and all the Trondelag worshiped the gods of the Aesir and had no confusion in their mind. Likewise, the Vanlil—the Jamts worshiped the Vanir. but then they took in many Aesir worshiping exiles who claimed that some of the Vanir had become Aesir. That happened as a result of a war in the lifetime of Faya, daughter of Fryer. Kirstie remembered being Faya briefly when Fryer came to visit. Faya, as an outsider, found a way to make peace and bring the two waring houses of the gods together. That happened ages and ages ago, but the Vanlil, just now learning about that, must have thrown their minds into confusion, not knowing what to believe. They became fodder for the hag and the worship of an actual living god, Abraxas.

Kirstie thought about the hag in Saxony. There were certainly plenty of Saxons in the British Isles for Abraxas to choose from. He no doubt sent the woman back to Saxony, but then she needed to find a place where the people still clung to the old gods and the old traditions but were being confronted with the Christian world. The Storyteller life she lived in the future told her about how Charlemagne slaughtered some four thousand five hundred Saxons between Verden and Bremen. The Saxons there were in rebellion against the empire and thus against the Christian faith the empire promoted. Now, all these years later, more confusion. Another opportunity for Abraxas. Kirstie remembered Margueritte’s friend, Boniface did great work among the Saxons and Frisians alike, but sometimes and in some places the old ways died slowly.

That must be it, she thought to herself. He needs to find a people who don’t know where to turn so he can offer stability if they turn to him. Sadly, that did not help her get to where she needed to be. But then she turned fourteen, and Rune and Frode returned from a second trip. Captain Harrold sailed into the docks a week earlier and the people mourned for the crew members he lost. When Rune came home, several men deserted his ship to sail with Captain Harrold Harroldson, including Kare and Thoren.

Captain Stenson and Frode finally came to visit Kirstie in her house, not exactly carrying their hats in their hands, but near enough. She had ale and snacks prepared and sat them in her living area. “The ale is from the special recipe of Bjorn the Bear. Tell me what you think. I know he enjoyed it while he lived.”

“Bjorn the Bear?” Frode asked, knowing the name well.

“He taught me to handle my weapons, especially the battleaxe. I understand he was an expert who killed many men.”

Captain Stenson drew a long face. “I do not doubt you know how to defend yourself. Bjorn the Bear was an expert, as you say.” He looked around the room before he thought of what to add. “But it will take more than just knowing how to defend yourself to sail in a longship.”

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MONDAY

Kirstie needs to secure her ride and then get to Saxony to confront the hag. Until Monday, Happy Reading

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Medieval 5: K and Y 6 Getting Ready, part 2 of 2

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Kirstie

In those days, Inga and Buttercup visited regularly to where Kirstie’s house became like a second home, and they spent the night often enough.

“But there was so much yelling,” Buttercup explained about Captain Harrold’s visit. She fluttered down to the table where Kirstie made a soft cushioned stool just her size. “It was scary.” she finished and settled down.

“But it turned out all right,” Inga said.

“I heard the yelling all the way up here,” Yrsa said whether that was true or not.

They all looked at Kirstie, but Kirstie had something else in mind. “Buttercup, come here.”

“Come where?” Buttercup asked. “I am here.”

“No, here,” Kirstie said and used her hands to show where she meant. She thought there would be enough space in that spot. The fairy complied and everyone looked curious before Kirstie said, “Now, get big.”

Buttercup fretted and swayed a little back and forth in the air until she made up her mind. She got big and lost the points to her ears and the wings at her back. Of course, her fairy weave clothes grew with her, so she did not appear naked in her big size. She looked down, like one embarrassed, but as Kirstie thought, she never got big before for Inga.

Yrsa let out a little gasp at how beautiful the fairy was, as all fairies should be. Buttercup looked to be about eighteen, the same as Yrsa, and Kirstie nodded to say she understood in human terms they were a smidgen younger than Inga, though Buttercup was actually one hundred and fifty-seven and Yrsa was one hundred and thirty-three. Of course, Inga saw Svator get big in the big house war meeting, but for some reason it never occurred to her to ask Buttercup to get big.

“Is this okay?” Buttercup asked without looking up.

Inga stood and hugged the girl. “You look beautiful,” she said. Yrsa and Kirstie passed a glance and got up to join the hug, and Buttercup’s small voice came out from the midst of all those huggers.

“Now I am going to get happy-weepy.”

Kirstie let go and Yrsa followed, wiping her own eyes a bit. Inga backed up and Kirstie spoke. “You can get little again if you like.”

Buttercup thought about it and shook her head. “I can stay big for a while,” she said and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Kirstie found her a regular chair and said that now she could get big when she wanted to help Inga or Mother Vrya in their work.

“I don’t know,” Inga said. “She already helped in the birth of Bodil’s baby. Poor Bodil was in terrible pain, screaming pain, and even Mother Vrya was at a loss as to what to do. Suddenly, Buttercup came racing in and hovered over the bed, hands on her hips and shouting. “Quiet. You are not having a leg chopped off. You are having a baby and that is a wonderful thing. You keep screaming and you will just scare your own baby. You don’t want to scare you own baby.” Bodil looked up at the voice and said, “Oh, a fairy.” She reached up, but Buttercup kept back. But after that, Bodil delivered her baby without another sound. It was like magic, like a miracle, like you talk about.”

Kirstie reached down beneath her shirt. She had a small wooden cross made and wore it around her neck on a leather string, but she said nothing at that time. Instead, she said, “Can’t count on that response from every human. Some might see the fairy and scream louder.”

“I know,” Buttercup said. “That is why I stay hidden in Inga’s hair.”

Inga turned to Kirstie. “I’ll never be able to braid my hair again.”

Kirstie smiled. About half of her hair was loose, but about half was beautifully braided in two long strands that fell down her back.

When Kirstie was not learning about weapons or visiting with Inga and Buttercup, she went to the village center. That happened regularly enough, and Yrsa often went with her. They always found the people in the village warm and friendly. It was not just that they knew Kirstie all her life, or even that they knew Kirstie’s parents and like them well enough. It was because they credited Kirstie with saving their village and saving so many of their lives during the Vanlil invasion and the rebellion of the exiles, all of whom eventually had their heads chopped off by the king.

Often enough, Kirstie went to the village to keep up with her friends. She met with Hilda regularly, and Hilda took her to the marketplace to look at things such as a wife and young mother might want. There was no disguising what was on Hilda’s mind. Yrsa went with them occasionally. Hilda expressed a little jealousy toward Yrsa’s closeness with Kirstie, but oddly enough, she never asked where Yrsa lived. Somehow, she got the impression that Yrsa might be from Varnes, though maybe she lived on this side of the river.

“What I honestly don’t understand is your obsession with weapons and fighting,” Hilde said. “I mean, look. Isn’t this cloth just beautiful?”

“Silk,” Kirstie named it. She knew Captain Harrold brought it back from Kent at the cost of a few men’s lives. “I’m not obsessed. I am sure when I am older, I will agree. It is beautiful. But right now… My father had a son, you know, but he did not live. I feel it is my duty to carry on the family tradition for the day when I have a son.”

Hilda did not exactly buy the explanation. “So, you plan to marry someday and have a son?”

“Kare keeps threatening me.”

Hilda smiled at that. “Liv says she is never going to marry.”

“Liv’s father might have something to say about that.”

Hilda shook her head. “Liv’s father and mother are not around much. There is something strange there. Liv is strange. She is getting stranger and stranger the older she gets.”

Kirstie nodded. She saw Liv a few times over those years. and while the girl seemed normal enough in a way, Kirstie could not disagree with Hilda that in some ways the girl seemed stranger and stranger.

One time when she got to the village, she found the king’s ship in the dock. Two men in particular, Lind and Gruden, seemed especially interested in finding Elgar the Saxon. They heard in other villages how Elgar organized the counterattack that defeated the enemies of the king.

“We just want to honor him for his help,” Lind said, though he was not a convincing liar.

“Being a Saxon, I am sure he went back to Saxony, or West Saxony, or wherever he came from,” Chief Kerga told them, and they left, not entirely happy. Kirstie sighed her relief. The people in Strindlos would not betray her, even if the king offered a reward. Well, at least that would depend on how much of a reward he offered.

Another time in the village, she ran into Kare and Thoren. In fact, she saw them several times over those years, and each time they seemed creepier than the time before. Fortunately, they sailed in Rune’s ship twice before they found a place in Harrold’s ship. Captain Harrold lost a few men in the encounter in Kent, and since Kare and Thoren had some seasoning, and since they wanted to make a change, he took them for his crew.

Thoren said, “Rune and Frode could not find their way out of a sack of grain.” Kirstie heard that as out of a paper bag. She smiled at the time and ran home to get out her father’s charts and things and review everything she could remember about navigation, as her father taught her.

After Kirstie turned thirteen, and she began to show that she might not be a skinny little blonde beanpole her entire life, Kare started in on the drumbeat that he was going to marry her. It got annoying. He said he was saving all his money, and Thoren’s, too. He said he was going to get his own ship someday soon. “Just you watch.” She watched. Granted, he was something of a leader among the boys in his generation, about Inga’s age. But he was roughly eight years older than her, which made him twenty-one to her thirteen.

To be honest, eleven, twelve, and thirteen was when girls did start thinking about marriage. If Kirstie’s father was alive, that was the age when he would start looking around to make a good match. The presumed quality of that match depended on his wealth, power, status, and standing in the community and region. It had nothing to do with what she wanted. Kirstie imagined she would have been married at sixteen or seventeen to some stranger, and it would have been up to her to make it work. But then, her father was gone, and that liberated her in some sense.

Kirstie thought about Inga, who turned twenty and almost qualified for the term old maid. Inga was pretty enough and would have made an excellent catch for any man, but her parents were also gone. Her father died at sea. His ship got caught in a terrible storm and he got washed overboard to never be seen again. That happened often enough. Then, her mother caught the winter flu and died despite the best efforts of Mother Vrya. Mother Vrya took Inga at that point to be her pupil, and Kirstie’s mother somehow convinced the girl to help watch over her wild child, Kirstie. Mother Vrya encouraged that situation, because it gave her pupil some income and a stable home environment she could count on in time of need. It also gave Inga a chance to provide a steadying influence on the wild one in her charge.

And Kirstie did settle down, some. But Inga did not marry, though she may have had a couple of offers. Kirstie got the feeling Mother Vrya ran interference for Inga with Chief Birger and others to see she did not get roped into a relationship she did not want. From time to time, Kirstie thought Kare would not be a terrible choice. At least she knew the boy—the man, creepy as he could be at times. He was not a stranger. Still, at thirteen to his twenty-one the age difference seemed insurmountable. Kare was serious. Kirstie had some words for him.

“Pervert,” she called him. “Pedophile.” Mostly, she had no interest in marriage, so it was just as well she did not take his comments seriously. She normally laughed in his face when he brought it up. At that time, she had far more important things to worry about, like where she needed to go.

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

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Kirstie

First, Kirstie grew through some more ordinary and strange things. She had her house rebuilt, and the men were glad to do it because of her help in driving off the Vanlil invasion. One old man, Bjorn the Bear even volunteered to teach her how to use those weapons she carried. He was not much of a teacher. He mostly knew the long handled single blade battleaxe, and she got good with hers. Also, the old man drank too much. He said it was because he spent all those years at sea fighting the Angles, Saxons, Franks, Frisians, and so many people he could not name them all. One afternoon, in a moment of honesty, he said it was because he killed so many men. In his old age he imagined there were better ways for people to settle their differences without all that fighting and killing. So he drank. But Kirstie learned and became something of an expert with her battleaxe. In the end, since Bjorn the Bear had neither a wife nor children, Kirstie let him move into her rebuilt barn where he proceeded to drink himself to death. She wept when she buried the old man.

Meanwhile, she learned mostly from the elves who built a small enclave in the woods by the house. It was a place where Yrsa could live and be close. Buttercup had no interest in learning to fight. She attached herself to Inga, and the two of them learned from Mother Vrya, in particular how to heal the survivors after the men got done fighting. Yrsa, on the other hand, felt reluctant to learn about the weapons at first, but after the first month, she seemed to get into the whole idea. She even admitted that it felt like her life calling.

“It’s the endorphins,” Kirstie said.

“I am sure you would know,” Yrsa answered, and shot her arrow perfectly into the bullseye. “What are endorphins?”

“I’m not sure,” Kirstie answered honestly and shot her arrow a little off center. “But you got them.”

Kirstie started learning with Defender, her long knife. She found she had a second shorter but wider knife she called Cutter and learned with two knives for a while. Kirstie found the spear a bit awkward, and she did not have the upper body strength to throw a good javelin, but she told herself she needed to know these things in case the opportunity presented itself.

Kirstie turned twelve before her elf teacher allowed her to pick up her sword. She had to use two hands at first, but she worked out and got stronger. She tried just her right hand and eventually picked up her shield with her left hand. It was not too hard since she had been using her shield already in her axe lessons and gripping her axe with only her right hand. Just when Kirstie thought she was getting good with her sword, her teacher made her switch hands. Putting the shield in her right hand was not hard, though she needed to not use it like a club, but the sword in her left hand felt awkward.

“Your left hand used Cutter just fine,” her teacher said. “Salvation is simply a longer version of Cutter.”

“My head knows that.” Kirstie responded. “But my hand wants to act stupid.”

She eventually made an acceptable swordswoman with her left hand, and thank goodness, they went back to her right.

Yasmina

Yasmina wore a dress to ride. When she stood on the ground, it looked like an ordinary enough dress, but it had a slit front and back so when she sat on her horse, the dress would fall to the sides down to her stirrups. The dress had a hood and mask attached that covered her nose and mouth so only her eyes could be seen. She also had good solid boots on her feet. Al-Rahim said in the real world they did not always ride on smooth cobblestone courts.

Ahmed, al-Rahim’s sergeant in the harem guards taught her to ride. Her horse was a gentle beast that would never be used as a war horse. When it was younger, it helped train recruits, but now that it was old, it could not even do that. It could walk and trot with encouragement, but it could not really gallop, even with only a skinny little girl on its back.

Aisha, in a similar outfit, rode beside her. Aisha knew full well how to ride, and honestly, she spent most of their time on horseback making sure Yasmina did not fall out of her seat, at least at first. Yasmina got tired of going around and around the courtyard soon enough and complained about that almost from the beginning. Eventually, they got to go out the palace gate to a small field where they could at least trot along at some speed. That lasted for a while, but by the time Yasmina got ready to turn twelve, she began a new complaint.

“When can I have a real horse? I want to ride and feel the wind in my face. I want to ride like the Pony Express, like the cavalry coming to the rescue.” No one knew what she was talking about, but they got the general idea.

When they got down, Yasmina went straight for her bow. Aisha had a beautiful bow in her slip, her invisible, personal piece of the second heavens that followed her around and only she could access. She also knew how to use the bow. Yasmina got an acceptable bow with an easy draw. She aimed and exhaled before she fired. Aisha fired two arrows in the same time. The princess hit the second circle on the target. It hit low and to the left. Aisha’s arrows both struck dead center, or near enough.

“Endorphins,” Yasmina said with an accusatory look in Aisha’s direction.

“What are endorphins?”

“I have no idea, but you have them,” Yasmina answered. While she stared at Aisha with her deadpan face, she called the way Kirstie called. She became instantly clothed in her armor, and al-Rahim, who came from the side door yelled.

“Princess!”

Yasmina looked at herself. Her legs were partly exposed beneath the short skirt of her armor and her arms were completely exposed from her short sleeves. She had boots to just below her knees and fingerless gloves up to her elbows, but they were form fitting, so they showed her shape.

“Oops,” Yasmina said and since her armor had fairy weave properties, she could tell it to lengthen to cover her knees and give herself long sleeves. Then she called to the cloak of Athena and made it come together in front, leaving only slits front and back to be able to sit her horse. She raised her hood and caused the material to cover her mouth and nose. She went one step further when she made the outside of her cloak imitate the color of her riding dress.

“Let me see those weapons,” al-Rahim insisted.

Yasmina detached the front of her cloak with a thought, though the hood stayed up and her face remained veiled. She pulled a shield from her back. It was round but smaller than Kirstie’s being something like an old Roman cavalry shield. She pulled Defender, her long straight knife from her back, one perfectly weighted to throw. She left the scimitar at her side. It looked thin, but strong, like a saber, except it curved at the tip so it could slice anything, but it would not work as a stabbing weapon.

He rubbed his chin as he spoke. “We can begin by learning something about the knife when I get back with your mother from Jeddah.”

Yasmina opened her mouth. She was excited about learning to use her long knife but had to complain. “You are taking mother to the beach without me?”

“Princess. You better let me hold on to the sword for now,” he said, completely ignoring her complaint.

Yasmina looked at her scimitar. “Sword, go home,” she said, and the sword vanished.

Al-Rahim did not even blink. Aisha smiled and said, “She is learning many things.”

Kirstie

Captain Stenson and Frode came to see Kirstie when she turned twelve. “I’m not ready,” she yelled to them before they could come close. “Go back to sea for another practice run. I’ll be ready for the next trip.”

Once again, neither Rune nor Frode said anything. They simply turned and went back into the village.

In the village, Captain Kerga got elected chief. He limped a little for years and could not reasonably go back to sea. He arranged for Jarl to take his ship, young as the man was, but his men made no objection. Jarl the Younger had proved himself worthy on several occasions, and Kerga certainly put his trust in the man, so that was settled amicably.

Then Captain Harrold came home. He missed the Vanlil invasion, the death of Chief Birger, and everything. Tension filled the village as many feared Harrold might have wanted to take Chief Birger’s place. Mother Vrya spent two days in the big house with Kerga, Harrold, Jarl and several others who came and went. They brought in food. In the end, when the crowd was gathered outside the door, Harrold came out and said, “Kerga is Chief.” Then he turned from the crowd and went to his home by the sea. He stayed there, minding his own business, until the call of the sea got him to gather his crew and sail off into the sunset.

Medieval 5: K and Y 4 Battle Plans, part 2 of 2

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Kirstie

Elgar called. “Stovelurne.” That was the chief dwarf’s proper name in the land, though when the dwarf chief appeared out of nowhere, and the men shouted, and the dwarf shouted with them, Elgar reverted to his native Old English to name him. “Booturn, your people will behave when we camp in the night, won’t they?”

Booturn shook his head to clear it and took a quick look around the room before he answered. “We will keep to our own place in the night. We will even feed Vortesvin, the mountain troll, so he won’t go looking for a snack in the night.” He grinned. He just could not help himself. “But I must say this.” He turned serious. “When the fighting starts, the mudders better stay away from the king’s house. Truth is many dwarfs can’t tell the difference between one human and another, so you best leave us alone to do our work.”

“Maybe we should give the king’s house a wide berth,” one man said.

Svator spoke to the men, which surprised some of the men. “They know we are coming. As long as you are with Lord Elgar, the dwarfs will behave.” He looked at Elgar as Booturn sighed and nodded.

Elgar continued. “We will camp in the king’s south field tonight to be ready to assault the south end of the town at first light. Just remember, we are not there to engage them in battle, just drive them to the water. God willing, that will be where they think to go in order to escape aboard whatever ships they are able to capture. Svator and his people will fly cover. They will route out any attempt to gather the enemy forces to counterattack, so do not be surprised if you see fairies land on a roof, get big, and use their bows expertly.”

“But look,” Chief Birger was thinking. “What if they don’t go for the ships? You said the Vanlil are not sailors. What is to prevent them from slipping out of town to the east and west as soon as we begin our attack on the south? They can then gather in the wilderness and come up with a new plan, as you said, and we will be right back in the same mess.”

Elgar shook his head. “Lord Amber,” he called, and the elf lord appeared beside Svator, not entirely disoriented at first. The shouts were a little less this time. “The elves of light have positioned themselves in the east and west to prevent that very thing.”

Lord Amber bowed to Elgar. “Lord. My people are in position. We will not let any escape into the wild even if we have to chase them down.”

“I still think we should be allowed to chase the ones on our side,” Booturn spoke up. “You can trust us not to let any escape.”

“Yes,” Elgar said. “And leave bits and pieces of chopped up humans all over the woods. I don’t think so. Besides, there are dark elves just itching to be part of the action. If any should escape Lord Amber’s people, it will be much worse for them in the woods at night.” Elgar paused and let that thought settle among the men in the room. He saw from the horror painted on several faces what the men thought about that. “You stick to your assignment and stay off the King’s ship. If they escape to the skied, the longship, you need to let them surrender.”

Booturn sighed again. “It won’t be easy,” he said, but he nodded.

Elgar looked around the room and spoke to his little ones. “Thank you for helping these men understand that we have a good chance to stop these exiled chiefs and their Jamts in their tracks. Please go back to your people,” he said. “Svator, you need to get small and keep your eyes on the proceedings.” Svator got small, and when Elgar waved his hand, and Booturn and Lord Amber disappeared, Svator sped back to hide in the rafters at such a speed, it looked to the men that he disappeared too. “Please tell the ones outside that it is safe to come back in.” Elgar said. “Only humans here now, and we need all-hands-on-deck to prepare. And I’ll not hear any bad talk about men who acted in a perfectly natural human way. Save that coward talk for any who might run away in battle. I hope no one will.”

Captain Kerga appeared sensitive to the few who came back into the big house and sat in the back. He spoke right away, “So, now all we have to do is figure out the timing, so we bring our ships in at the right time to block the port.”

“The timing will be difficult,” Elgar said. “If the ships arrive before the enemy is backed to the water, they may yet find a way to slip out from our fingers. On the other hand, if the ships arrive too late, the enemy may grab the ships in the town dock and slip out into the fjord.” Elgar thought for a second when he heard Yrsa speak up, contrary to all etiquette where women only spoke in the council when given permission.

“Perhaps we can help.”

“Of course,” Inga understood what Yrsa was suggesting. “The three of us can ride in Captain Kerga’s ship and the other ships can follow his lead.” She stood to speak so Yrsa stood with her, and Captain Kerga asked an obvious question.

“The three of you?” Kerga glanced at Mother Vrya, but Mother Vrya shook her head.

“Buttercup, show yourself,” Elgar insisted.

A little head poked out from Inga’s hair. “Do I have to?”

Elgar smiled. “You have to,” he said. “In fact, I think you should come over here and face me.” Elgar made it a command, but he tried hard to not smile as he said it.

Buttercup came but stopped out of arm’s reach. “But I like Kirstie,” she said. “You’re too scary.” Several men around the room snickered.

Elgar looked at Captain Kerga, who stared at the fairy as he stared at all the little ones. He opted to call Kerga’s number one, what some might call the first mate. “Jarl the Younger,” he called, and the man came. He looked delighted to see the fairy. “This is Jarl, Buttercup. When your father or Svator, or Eik, or one of the other Fee send you word to go, will you tell Jarl to go. Shout it nice and loud when that happens. Your friend Inga can remind you. Would that be okay?”

Buttercup took a moment to fly around Jarl. It got him to turn once all the way around, but Buttercup, in that annoying fairy habit, stayed always barely in his peripheral vision until she faced Elgar again. “He seems nice. I can do that.”

“Very good. Thank you. You can go back and visit Inga again.”

“Goody,” she said, and fast as a bolt of lightning she hid once again in Inga’s hair. Elgar saw the smile that colored Inga’s face and turned to Yrsa.

Yrsa did not need to be prompted. “I can also say go when Father sends word to my heart.”

“Your father?” Jarl asked, young man that he was.

Yrsa stared at Elgar. Elgar lifted his hand briefly, so everyone caught a glimpse of the elf under Yrsa’s glamour of humanity. “Don’t go there,” Elgar told Jarl. That was one complication he did not need, or rather, Kirstie did not need it, young as she was.

“Well, Saxon,” Chief Birger rubbed his hands. “You seem to have covered all the angles.”

“No pun intended, I am sure,” Elgar mumbled, when Mother Vrya stood and spoke.

“Not all the angles. What do you propose we do about the hag, the power behind this Vanlil invasion?”

Rune Stenson also stepped forward and had something to say. “And these spirits of nature. We have all heard terrible stories. Can they be trusted?”

“More than most men,” Elgar answered Rune and went away from that place to let Kirstie come home in case any of the men present had forgotten. “The hag will be my responsibility,” she said. “And concerning the little ones, they don’t like their word and loyalty questioned, so Rune, you and your crew better stay with me. You can keep me safe when the fighting starts. And as for the rest of you, if any of you hurts a fairy, elf, or dwarf, even by accident, I dread to see what punishment will await you. Remember, they are on our side. Normally, they would not be permitted to interfere with a human conflict, even with a power on the other side. In this case, we do not have enough men to assault the town and block the port at the same time. So, they are allowed to be part of the action as long as they… as long as we all stick to our assignments.”

Inga spoke up into the silence that followed. “You will not be going with us in Captain Kerga’s ship.” She made a statement, but it was really a question.

Kirstie shook her head and said, “Come on.” She headed toward the door. “I want to have a snack and gather my things before I have to walk all the way to the king’s field.”

Medieval 5: K and Y 4 Battle Plans, part 1 of 2

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Kirstie

Word came from the fairies Eik and Svator that the enemy overran the king’s house on the sixth day, even as the ships from Olvishaugr arrived in Strindlos Bay with a hundred men from the north. The enemy burned the king’s house to the ground. Svator was surprised that even at that distance the people in Strindlos could not see the great cloud of black smoke that wafted into the sky.

 Chief Birger’s spies arrived in the morning. They traveled through the night to get back first thing in the morning and reported that there were about four hundred men gathered to attack the town. By the fourth hour, about ten o’clock, the chiefs from Oglo, Frosta, and further north arrived in the big house and Captain Kerga took the lead in explaining the situation as well as he knew it. They began to argue about the best way to attack the enemy and drive them back into the mountains.

When the women arrived outside the big house, Inga asked. “Are we ready?”

Yrsa and Buttercup both nodded. They spent the night avoiding the widows, though Mother Vrya saw Buttercup fluttering around twice, and saw Yrsa once. Mother Vrya did not appear surprised on seeing the fairy in Kirstie’s company. Yrsa, of course, wore a glamour that made her appear human, and there were plenty of strangers in Strindlos by then, though not many women. In any case, Mother Vrya said nothing and left before dawn to take her place in the big house council chamber.

Kirstie thought to say something. “Buttercup. You better ride on Inga’s shoulder. I’m going to have to let Elgar talk to the men.”

Buttercup did not mind, and Inga positively smiled, like she got excited. Kirstie thought that was odd. She was not sure she ever saw Inga excited before. Buttercup and Yrsa knew Inga by then. Kirstie could hardly avoid introducing them to her watcher. They all seemed to get along well and talked into the night about many things. Kirstie mostly kept quiet and worried when the word came that the hag had moved down from the mountains to join the men.

If the Vanlil got a foothold on the Nid River, it would not be hard to cross over the fjord and overrun the hamlet of Stadr on the narrow place. They could block the whole fjord from there and cause the villages all the way up to Steinker to surrender. At least that was likely what they had in mind. Kirstie imagined them pushing west from Stadr to Hof, the place where the fjord and North Sea met. Kirstie also imagined the hag had some of the Vanlil and maybe some of the exiled men primed to invite the god Abraxas to come to their shores. Abraxas got told that putting his foot on the ancient land ruled by Aesgard would be instant death, but an invitation by the people might negate that threat. In fact, once he got a foothold in Norway, he might easily arrange an invitation to Denmark, and anywhere on the continent where the Danes and Norwegians went would be open to him. Abraxas was supposed to be confined to the British Isles, but it seems he found a way to get off the islands. He probably already had Jutes, Angles, Saxons, and Danes working for him, and they all had cousins on the continent.

Kirstie shook her head and said, “Ready,” and the four women trooped into the big house totally interrupting the argument. Kirstie yelled, in case any of the men were not paying attention. “How many men do we have to march and how many ships have we gathered?” When most of the eyes glared at this rude young girl, Kirstie traded places through time with Elgar, and he came dressed in his armor and decked out in weapons. He spoke to Chief Birger in a softer voice. “I said, how many men do we have to march and how many ships have we gathered?”

Chief Birger smiled, having seen Kirstie change into this man before. Most of the outsider chiefs shouted from surprise before they quieted to listen. Captain Kerga answered the question.

“We have three longships, one of which is mine, and seven karve which are smaller but perfectly good transports in the fjord.”

“Saxon,” Chief Birger said. “What have you to say?”

“They attacked and burned the king’s house to the ground and captured the king’s monstrous ship you call a skied. They are preparing to attack the town, and I expect them to concentrate on taking the docks, which is good for us because we want them to back up to the fjord. They will try to capture the longships and karve in the docks. They will need all the ships they can get to cross over and take Stadr and to block the narrow place. We will need our ships to block the town docks and not let them escape on whatever ships they capture. Fortunately, the Jamts are not sailors, though they are excellent horsemen. How many horses do we have?”

Men began to shout until Chief Birger and some of the older village men got the others to be quiet. Captain Kerga picked up the telling. “We have two hundred and fifty men ready to cross overland to the king’s place. Not many on horseback. We have about as many that will sail to block the port in the third hour tomorrow.”

“Yes. Why wait?” Chief Birger asked. “We could block them in tonight.”

“No.” Elgar shook his head. “If we move before the men on foot can get there, they can escape with their whole army intact, and hide in the wilderness where they will just come up with a new plan. We have to trap them in the town and push them to the water. Some will have to engage face to face, but we mostly need our bows and arrows to drive them to the shore. When our ships come up, they will be surrounded and will only survive if they surrender.”

One of the northern chiefs stepped forward with a question. “How do you know they burned the king’s house? The spies we sent only returned a few hours ago. They said some four hundred are gathering outside the town but made no mention of any attack on the king’s place.”

“My spies,” Elgar said. “They have more recent information, but I hesitate to introduce them because I don’t want to frighten you.”

Men grumbled angrily at the implication that they might be afraid of anything, especially having that suggestion come from a Saxon. but Chief Birger asked, not too sharply, “What spies?” At least he could imagine.

Elgar nodded and called to the rafters overhead. “Svator, please come down here. The chiefs here want to know the source of my information.” Svator fluttered down from above but stayed facing Elgar the whole time. The men gasped, a few screamed, but only one ran screaming from the big house. “Please get big,” Elgar said, knowing that men, on first meeting a fairy, found it more palatable meeting them in their big size. When big, fairies lost their wings and appeared human enough. Svator obliged, appeared dressed in hunter green, and grasped tight to his excellent bow. He offered Elgar a bow.

“Lord.” he said. “There are five hundred Jamts—Vanlil, and fifty exiled men who once took refuge in Jamtaland. Fifty and five have been left to guard the longship in the king’s dock. Five hundred face the town, which is as many as live in the town, men, women, and children. They are negotiating a surrender, but some in the town want to fight. They have seen that the Vanlil are under the sway of the hag and are slow to react when confronted in a battle situation.”

“To be expected,” Elgar said and looked around the room to hear objections or thoughts. Only one man spoke, and not too loudly.

“They have twice our number on foot.”

“Not twice,” Elgar responded. “I have mountain dwarfs who will keep the men they left at the king’s house busy, so we won’t have to worry about them. When the Jamts-Vanlil and exiled men came over the mountains, they disturbed the dwarf home, and a dwarf child was killed. The dwarfs are anxious for pay-backs, as you might imagine.” Elgar paused and saw heads around the room nod. The men there likely never saw a real dwarf, but they all heard stories from their childhood and understood revenge was what they did when disturbed. He hated to bring a living nightmare into their midst, but the chiefs needed to see the reality of what they were dealing with, and they needed to be warned.

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MONDAY

Kirstie, Elgar, and the Vikings settle some details but some decisions about the coming battle will have to wait until they get there. Until then, Happy Reading.

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Medieval 5: Elgar 8 The Struggle, part 3 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Deerrunner turned from the window. “You best hurry. Wulfhere has ridden out to meet Guthrum. He has his men primed to stop you from leaving the fort, but our people have secured one gate.”

“My wife, Ealhswith, and the children.” Alfred looked worried.

“My son, Pinoak and the ladies that came into the fort to help Wulfhere entertain the king.” Pinewood explained. “They are all our ladies, and they have your wife and children well in hand. They will meet us at the gate. You just need to decide which men you can truly trust so they can escape with us.”

“Only those you are sure of,” Deerrunner said. “And if there is anything you need to fetch from your rooms.”

“My books,” Alfred said.

“Already packed,” Deerrunner assured him.

Two ox drawn wagons with women and children, and two dozen men rode out from the southern gate as the sun set. They followed good paths so the wagons had no trouble, and by sunrise they reached the River Avon. Alfred looked back.

“That’s not possible,” he said. “We can’t have traveled all that distance in one night, especially with ox-drawn wagons.”

“There are ways,” Pinewood told him. “Hidden ways, like the ways you went to escape Reading and the Danes sent after you.”

“Oh, yes,” Alfred remembered, and he helped load his wife and children on the rafts that were conveniently stationed by the riverside. He decided it was best not to question too much, but one thing he wanted to know. “Where are you taking me? Are we going to Bath?” He imagined from Bath he could keep a watch on the events in Wiltshire and find a way to drive out Guthrum and Wulfhere with him.

“No majesty,” Pinewood answered him. “Bath is already overrun with Danes. They gathered at Pucklechurch and waited until they got the signal, then they fell on the city before the city could prepare to defend themselves. There is still some fighting going on around the town, but it is minor. The Danes own that place.”

“What of Chisbury?” Alfred wondered how close to Winchester this conspiracy of his ealdorman went.

“Still Free, but probably not for long. I imagine Wallingford and Oxford will not be far behind and then the better half of Wiltshire and Berkshire will be in Danish hands. Once the line between Bath, Chisbury and Wallingford on the Thames is solid, he can raid as far away as Shaftsey, Eashing, Winchester, Wilton, and Axebridge. He may be able to push into Somerset as far as Glastonbury.”

“Meanwhile, the coast from Exeter to Hastings is continually raided by a whole fleet of ships, mostly out of East Anglia, Essex, and the Thames in Eastern Kent, but some also from York and Northumbria. The coastal watch is fighting back, but they lose the battles as many as they win.” Alfred tried not to mope.

When they reached the point in the river where the water flowed west toward the Severn Estuary, they found their horses mysteriously waiting for them. They rode down into the Selwood forest hoping to escape whatever patrols or foraging parties the Danes might send out from Bath. They almost did not make it.

Deerrunner, Pinewood, Alfred and his Thegans with plenty of men in green had to fight off one group so the women and children could be taken to safety. The dark came on soon enough and the fighting had to break off, but then some of the men got separated in the dark. Too bad for the Danes. The dark elves, that is, the goblins that gave Selwood a bit of a reputation routinely got left out when the fighting happened. They had plenty of pent up aggression that just waited for a Dane to be alone.

Alfred was also one that got separated and lost but he soon came to a cabin in the woods. That was fortunate because the goblins were not always the best at telling the difference between Saxons and Danes. Alfred hoped it was one of Elgar’s people. If not, then maybe a young woodcutter and his family. He hoped it was not a witch. It turned out to be an old Crone who let him in but warned him not to touch anything.

“My husband is out on escort duty. No telling how long that will last.”

“My name is Alfred,” Alfred admitted, trying to be friendly despite the heavy weight of worry that surrounded his thoughts.

“Oh? Good to meet you I suppose. My name is May, and I have an errand to run.” She looked him over and decided she had no choice. “I have wheat cakes in the oven, there. Try not to let them burn and don’t break anything while I am gone.” She left abruptly.

Alfred went to the door. He went out to his horse but left the door open. He unsaddled his horse and tied the animal by a trough he found that had water in it. He looked out into the dark, not having dared to move beyond the door light. There were too many strange sounds. He swore he saw two bright eyes staring at him from out of the dark.

“You have been a good horse,” he told his horse and patted him before he rushed back indoors to the firelight. He sat down at the table and wondered if there were any lamps or candles around that he could also light, but it was just a passing thought. Once he sat, all the tension from battle poured out of him and his muscles relaxed all at once. It was a wonder that he did not fall instantly asleep. Only his worry remained. He thought all might be lost.

The Channel coast was under constant assault. two hundred to five hundred to as many as eight hundred men in ships showed up almost anywhere, any time. The Bishop of Selsey in Sussex abandoned his post, and now the whole coast there has burned. Kent, Sussex, Hampshire, Dorset, and Devon are all on fire, and Alfred did not have a fleet of ships to stop them. He needed ships, and forts, strong points built around the countryside where people could flee in time of trouble. He also needed a good night’s sleep.

To Alfred’s credit, he woke up when he smelled something burning. He remembered and got the wheat cakes out of the oven when they were still salvageable, for the most part. Naturally, that was when May returned, with Pinewood. Pinewood stood back and let May upbraid the poor man. May eventually ran out of things to say and kissed Pinewood and slipped into the back room.

“My wife,” Pinewood said. “She said she found you wandering in the dark and called to you to save you from the spookies. She thought I might like to get you back in one piece.”

“Spookies?” Alfred asked, remembering the eyes staring at him in the dark.

“The goblins are out tonight but come. We will be safe enough to take you to the others.”

Alfred followed Pinewood outside and found his horse saddled and several men in green mounted and ready to ride. When they arrived in the elf camp, Alfred hugged and kissed his wife and two children before he fell over on the nearest bed. He did not stay awake long, but he did try to decide what was worse, being caught by goblins or Missus May’s scolding.  He decided the Danes were worse and he tried not to hope the goblins caught them.

Medieval 5: Elgar 8 The Struggle, part 2 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Elgar had a bad feeling when he heard the Danes returned to Eastern Mercia to a place called Torksey where they wintered over 872-873. They built up their forces, drawing heavily on men from Northumbria and York as well as the Great Summer Army that landed in East Anglia in 871. By the time they reached Repton on the border of Danish East Mercia and Anglo-Saxon West Mercia, they were again the Great Heathen Army and ready to overrun the last of the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms on the Island.

In 874, they invaded West Mercia. They drove out the king and installed a puppet king that would do what he was told. Then they looked at what remained unconquered. The two Danish leaders argued. Guthrum of East Anglia was relatively new to the land. He saw what happened at Reading and said they did it all wrong.

“I was the one who did it,” Halfdan argued. “I’m telling you my grandfather Lodbrok and my father Ragnar both said don’t go to Wessex because you will lose. I warned the king, but he did not listen. Bagsecg got himself killed at Ashdown, the first serious engagement with the West Saxons, a battle they won.”

“But you won most of the subsequent engagements,” Guthrum pointed out.

“But hardly worth the winning,” Halfdan yelled. “They blocked us from going east to link up with the main part of your Summer Army. They blocked us from moving south into the heart of Wessex. They wore us out. We were lucky Athelred died and Alfred was willing to pay us off to go away. We could not have done much else.”

“You built your stronghold on the Mercian-Wessex border,” Guthrum said. “But I have noticed Wessex is a big place. It takes time for them to gather their forces. I propose building a stronghold deep within the kingdom, somewhere on the southern border where we can have access to ships and supplies.”

“Good luck with that,” Halfdan said, and he took half of the army back north to attack that half of Northumbria that remained in Anglo-Saxon hands. He thought he might test the Celts of Strathclyde, and maybe even the Picts.

In 874, Guthrum wintered in Cambridge in Mercia but near the East Anglia and Essex borders where he could build his forces, better plan his strategy, and arrange for those ships and supplies. The next year, he marched rapidly down the roads the Saxons so kindly provided and overran Wareham on the coast of Dorset.

Alfred and his army could not dislodge them, or it would take a long time since they had access to the sea and Alfred did not have a navy. He called up what ships he could but did not deploy them around Wareham. They were not ready. So Alfred elected to talk to Guthrum and the other leaders of the Viking army. They drew up an agreement concerning the exchange of hostages and safe passage for the Danes to leave Wessex and not come back. Money changed hands, but even as Alfred pulled back his forces, the Danes killed the hostages and snuck out of town in the night.

Guthrum and his army landed in Exeter and continued to raid along the whole Channel coast of Wessex. That was not what they agreed. By then, Alfred’s little navy was able to blockade the Viking ships in the Exeter estuary. Guthrum did not worry. He expected a relief fleet any day, but that fleet got wrecked and scattered by a storm in the Channel. Guthrum was forced to concede.

In 877, Guthrum and his army moved to Western Mercia and he rethought his strategy. He decided on a to pincer approach. If Halfdan, son of Ragnar would not do it, maybe Ubba, son of Ragnar could be enticed to come out of Wales.

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Despite the fact that most of the previous invasion of Wessex took place in January, including the battles of Reading, Ashdown, and Basing, generally speaking both Vikings and Saxons did not bring their armies out in the cold and snow. Armies normally wintered in towns. They did not go sloshing around outdoors.

Alfred felt fairly safe celebrating Christmas and the new year in Chippenham, up in Wiltshire near the Mercian border. Wulfhere, the ealdorman of Wiltshire went overboard on the feast days since he was entertaining the king. That was nice, but mostly Alfred wanted to keep one eye on Guthrum and his army to see when the man moved. He really did not expect Guthrum to move until spring, but he wanted to be sure.

 “Gentlemen…and Ladies,” Wulfhere stood at the front of the hall and got everyone’s attention. “I apologize, but it seems I have some business to attend, messengers, nothing crucial but I have to absent myself from the merrymaking. Please carry on and enjoy the feast, and I will see you all tomorrow. Again, my apologies.” He smiled, signaled the musicians to continue, and left the hall.

Alfred wondered what could be so important. He watched Wulfhere go and caught sight of two older men in green headed toward his table. Elgar’s men, he remembered. The wild men who lived in the forests and swamps where most men did not go. They lived on the edge of society since Roman times, or maybe even earlier. He would find out what they wanted.

“My name is Pinewood. My companion is Deerrunner,” the old man said. Deerrunner looked around the room. “A word in private would be best.”

“You are Elgar’s people,” Alfred wanted to be sure.

Pinewood nodded. “Lord Elgar asked us to keep an eye out for you and keep one eye on the Danes. The Danes have come out from their place.”

“What?” Alfred joined Deerrunner in looking around before he spoke. “Come with me,” he said and led them to an annex room unoccupied at the present. Two of his thegans wanted to come with him, but he told them to wait.

“Tell me,” Alfred ordered.

“Best get your things and the men you can trust, if any,” Deerrunner said as he stepped to the one window in the room and looked down on the courtyard.

“Wulfhere has made a deal with Guthrum,” Pinewood said plainly. “Guthrum and his army are only hours away. They left Gloucester at nightfall and stayed on the roads. they moved twenty miles in the night, took ten hours in the morning to rest, and started again in the early afternoon. They should be here by midnight or in the dark of the morning hours.”

“What? Why am I just hearing of this? What happened to my spies?”

“Your spies have either been killed or bought.”

“What? What happened to Elgar’s nephew, Tata—Peter, from Eddington?”

“Tata lies among the slain,” Pinewood lowered his eyes and his face like a man who somehow failed at his task.

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MONDAY

Alfred escapes the trap but it is a long way to safety. Until next time, Happy Reading

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