Elves

Golden Door Chapter 17 David Home Free, part 1 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

It took a few minutes for all the swimmers to get their bearings, not to mention coming to realize that they were not going to drown. They left the naiad’s grotto, in part being pulled out by the current, and went to sea. They needed to find the underwater castle of Amphitrite. David had asked who Amphitrite was, but all Inaros said was “Your father.” It seemed to David his father was practically everyone.

David looked around, more surprised that his eyes did not sting from the salt water than he was about being able to see at that depth with a darkening sky overhead. Back home, David hated to get his eyes wet and never opened them in a pool, let alone in the ocean at the beach. But here, he saw quite well, and certainly well enough to see skinny old Inaros, with his long legs and long arms, looking very much like a frog. Floren undulated her body, more like a snake, or he imagined a mermaid. It felt hard to tell how Oren and Alden looked in swimming because they were already playing shark and about to fall behind.

“Keep up,” Floren yelled at them, and David got startled. He did not know they could talk underwater.

“We got a coral reef ahead,” a different voice startled David. Mickey O’Mac swam beside him, laying on his back with his hands behind his head and kicking with his feet. He grinned as he turned again to his stomach and swam down toward the coral. David followed.

The reef appeared all pink and green, but the colors were dulled because the light was dim. “Must be a real blow going on up there,” Inaros said. He saw David and Mickey and followed them down, but David did not see him, so he jumped again. “Sorry. Can’t hear well down here. You never know when someone might be sneaking up on you.”

David nodded and felt a bump on his leg. He figured it was Alden or Oren, but when he turned, he saw the teeth of the shark as it turned and opened its mouth. A string of some kind shot out from between David and Inaros. It slapped the shark in the mouth and left a thin layer of something like jell or plastic which effectively cut off the danger from the teeth. The shark turned aside and David looked at Mickey. He appeared dazed from the exertion of whatever that stringy magic was.

David felt his hand grabbed by Inaros and he, in turn, grabbed Mickey by the scruff of his collar. “More coming,” Inaros said as he headed them straight toward the reef. There were a dozen sharks, not far off, and coming on fast. David wanted no part of it. “In here,” Inaros said, dragging David toward a hole in the coral no more than ten inches in diameter.

“I can’t fit in there.” David started into his liturgy of protest, but Mickey, somewhat recovered, cut him off.

“Get small,” he said and he and Inaros both yanked on David’s hands and pulled him right into the little hole.

The big shark, a great white, which had gotten mostly free of its mouth covering, came seconds behind. It smashed its own snout into the hole with enough force to collapse the coral all around. If a shark could be said to be angry, this was an angry shark. The hole became covered with debris that blocked their exit, but Mickey hollered at them from the back.

“There’s another way out at the back of the reef.” David and Inaros both sighed relief and followed. The way through the coral seemed full of twists and turns, and some jagged spots where they had to be careful, but soon enough they popped out of the coral and resumed their normal sizes. Immediately, David wanted to get small again, but he was not sure how. The great white, its mouth now free, showed a remarkable degree of intelligence and swam over the top of the reef to get at them on the other side.

“Run!” Mickey shouted. He went left and Inaros went right, but David stayed frozen for a moment in the face of those terrible teeth. The great mouth started to open when two spears shot straight into that maw. Again, the shark turned aside and began to thrash about in an attempt to dislodge the projectiles. Its jaws snapped shut and sliced right though the metal spear shafts, but it was the damage on the inside that it could not do anything about. The shark had no gag reflex to rid itself of anything, once eaten.

Two mermen came up alongside David. They had something like crossbows in their hands, and the weapons were loaded. They only seemed to be waiting for a clear shot to finish the monster. Floren came wiggling up and grabbed David by his shirt collar in much the same way he had grabbed Mickey, and she hauled him off in the direction of Inaros. Together, with Oren and Alden, they entered an underwater forest where the weeds grew thirty and forty feet high.

Floren and Inaros lead the way while David sought for safety and squeezed between Oren and Alden. The boys stayed quiet, but Alden especially looked around for monsters hiding between the weed trees, or sharks that might be following them. Oren was the one who pointed out the mermaids who paced them, mostly hidden in the weeds. David could not be sure, but he imagined they were giggling. They seemed to regularly point at Inaros and his frog stroke. David did not blame them for giggling.

They stopped at the edge of the forest and looked out on the castle hill. It looked exactly like the one above, with more towers and spires than David could count, some of which went right up out of sight to poke above the surface of the sea. Far off to their right, the sea appeared to be boiling. There were occasional flashes of red and it looked like a mound was slowly building.

Inaros explained. “An underwater volcano, but I don’t know if a new island is forming in the archipelago or if Avalon is slowly falling apart.” He shook his head, sadly.

Golden Door Chapter 13 David to the Sea, part 1 of 2

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It took very little effort to convince Floren, Alden and Oren to follow along on the quest. Floren seemed anxious to get out from under her charge to watch the boys, and she imagined, perhaps falsely, that the boys would be more respectful of the older gentleman among them. The boys were bored and ready for the chance to break the tedium of hiding out and eating fish every day. They immediately began to fend off pretend dragons and imaginary monsters in the deep. They tried to get David interested in the game, but for David it started becoming all too real and he felt loath to imagine the dangers that might lie ahead. Still, he felt glad for the company and thought the more, the better; while Inaros, for his part, appeared content to sit comfortably and reminisce about real adventures he had in his younger days, perhaps with Captain Van Dyke, or Lady Margueritte, or some other person of the Kairos. In fact, after a good helping of fish, he easily reminisced himself into a nap.

“Hush.” Floren quieted the boys. “Let him sleep. We are only an hour from the sea and the day is young yet.” The boys hushed for a few minutes, but soon erupted in sword fights with fallen branches and imaginations run amok. Floren took a deep breath, but let it pass. The elder elf did not even twitch.

After Floren cleaned up, and before she could call the boys in and wake the sleeper, the ground began to tremble. The quake came. The boys screamed, and Inaros had no trouble waking.

“Hold on to your feet!” Inaros shouted when his eyes popped open. Floren literally bounced her way to where the boys trembled on their hands and knees. David and Oren looked scared, and rightly so, but also excited as if this shaking, in a way, was fun. Alden appeared simply frightened out of his wits, so it was toward Alden that Floren made her way. She hugged the boy when she got there, and Alden grabbed on for dear life, even as the shaking quit. It rumbled again, and after a few minutes, a third time. It brought an evergreen down not far away, but then it seemed over.

“Everyone still whole or have you all shaken to bits?” Inaros called out since they were out of sight behind some trees.

“Okay.” David yelled.

“All ship shape,” Floren said. She had clearly been thinking about going to sea and no doubt wondered how they were going to go under the sea to the Golden Palace of Amphitrite.

“Glad to hear it.” Inaros appeared tall, leaning on his staff and he grinned at them as they were still splayed across the ground. “I should say we had best get going. No telling when the next ground buster will strike.” Floren agreed and got right up. The boys bounced up, except Alden who did not like the term ground buster. They walked, the boys sometimes out front and sometimes following, but never far away, and always elf quiet, a condition Floren imposed on them lest she magically zipper their mouths.

When she had a moment where Inaros’ ears were all hers, she spoke what pressed on her mind. “That quake felt worse than the night before. I thought aftershocks were supposed to be less intense than the original.”

“Eh?” Inaros spoke rather loudly. Floren had to repeat herself with some volume, and unfortunately, David heard and came to join them. Oren and Alden were not far behind.

“But you see.” Inaros raised his hands, staff and all. “Sometimes there are small preliminaries before the big eruption!” He raised his hands to express such and mimed an explosion, but quickly returned the staff to the ground before he stumbled. That was not what anyone wanted to hear, and after that Floren decided not to ask any more questions.

David did smell the sea before he saw it. It smelled of salt-brine and centuries of seaweed. It remained a good deal below their elevation. He could only hear the dull roar of breakers against rocks in the eternal dance that would one day turn rocks to sand and drag the sand down into the deeps. The small river they followed dropped out of sight at that point into an ever-deepening gorge that it had carved over the centuries and that brought it swiftly to the sea. It looked like an excited lover who could not suffer a gentle slope. David did not know if their path would take them to an easier decline to the sea, but he knew the small river would get there first.

“Ah! The Western Cliffs,” Inaros announced. He took a great whiff of the air. “Sadly, my nose is not as it was.” He touched his nose. “Despite the fact that my nose appears to have grown larger.”

David looked, carefully around. They stood amidst the kind of shrubs and hardy grass that can only prosper in a salty mist, and it appeared that they had indeed come to some cliffs. The sea came in waves, a sheer thirty feet or more below them.

“All I sbell is rotten kelp.” Oren held his nose to exaggerate his expression of disgust.

“Seal People!” Floren interrupted.

“Where?” Oren and Alden together drowned out David’s, “What?” The young elf and brownie nudged right up to the edge to see. David went a bit more careful, and Inaros came to put his arm around the young man and point with his staff while he spoke.

“No one knows where they came from. Like the Centaurs of old, the Were and Mere people and others, some think they came from the stars, you know, another world altogether. See how the young frolic in the shallows. The birthing happened earlier this spring. Look, there.” Inaros raised his staff and pointed, but David was already looking where several of the hundreds that littered the beach, stood up, suddenly having legs and arms, and appeared to be in the shape of men. “Sailors used to fear the seal people, though I suppose that is like saying water is wet. Sailors generally fear anything different and strange. They are a very superstitious lot.”

“But are they seals or people?” David asked.

“Hard to say,” Inaros answered. “They have always kept to themselves and communicating with them has been a rare event. I understand your father, when he was Gerraint, he spoke with them once on an isle off the north coast of Scotland, but that was before my time.”

David looked down at the stone and sand, a very narrow strip at the base of the cliff. It looked gray in appearance, even as gray as the clouds that were beginning to gather overhead to dim the light of the sun. As such, the seals were very hard to see—unless they moved.

“They are also very seal-like.” Inaros appeared to be thinking out loud. “They fall prey to sharks like any seal and have never seen fit to make tools to defend themselves, though from all accounts, they could. But who can know the mind of such a strange creature?” The elf patted David on the shoulder and David thought, look who’s talking.

There came a rumbling sound from down the beach and Alden leapt back from the lip of the cliff in fear that the Earth might start shaking again.

“Cyclops!” Oren shouted and pointed in excitement even as his sister dragged him back from the edge.

David saw the Cyclops. It had to be more than twenty feet tall, and looked human enough, or something like a giant apart from the one bulbous eye in the center of the forehead. It appeared naked, but its hand, three fingers and a thumb, held fast to a club as big as a tree. David needed no encouragement to get back from the edge of the cliff, and on second thought, he imagined even Bert the giant would look like a shrimp next to this monstrosity. In a moment, it got worse.

The Cyclops opened its mouth and let out a glob of drool that fell, a bucketful that strung almost to his feet. Then he spoke. “I smell me seal meat for me supper.” The voice boomed. The eye scanned the rocks where the seal people were already evacuating the beach with all haste. But there were many young among them that could hardly move fast and so Floren moved fast for them. Before the Cyclops could bend down or lift his club for a smashing blow, an arrow shot out from the cliff top and pierced the creature’s ear. The Cyclops swatted at the sting, like a man might swat at an annoying insect, and the second arrow struck like a thorn in his hand. The Cyclops turned his head and David turned to run. He missed seeing the third arrow that just missed the creature’s big eye.

“Waaa! I see me wee folk for me desert.” The Cyclops roared and the club came faster than David would have thought possible for such a lumbering beast. It struck some on the side and some on the top of the cliff and broke loose several David sized boulders that crumbled like dust to the monster’s feet. “I be getting wee folk and eating wee folk.” The Cyclops roared again, but since his head stayed below the cliff top, and since the travelers ran, the impact of that roar did not sound as strong as the first. Then David turned and saw a great hand rise-up and slap down on the cliff top to search for wee ones to grab and gobble. With all his running, David got just barely far enough away so as not to be caught.

“Which way?” Floren asked, the bow still in her hand.

“Inland,” Inaros said. “But it will still follow, and even if we reach the trees, it will simply brush them aside to get at us.” Inaros seemed exceptionally sharp in the face of danger, and while it encouraged David who had been thinking of him as a doddering old man, what Inaros said did not encourage David at all.

“If I may suggest.” The voice came from roughly two feet off the ground in the direction of the river where it first started to carve the gorge down through the cliffs. David looked hopefully at the little man, but Floren held David back. She looked wary. “Old one-eye can’t get his hammy hands down into the gorge in most places and there’s caves near the bottom where we can be out of his reach altogether.”

“Mickey O’Mac!” Inaros knew the little one, and Floren relaxed, but just a little.

Mickey O’Mac leapt to the nearest boulder not yet swallowed by the running river and the boys all laughed because it made him look like his head stuck up out of the ground. “Well?” He disappeared down the gorge.

“Come on,” Inaros said, with a glance at the cliff’s edge.

The Cyclops had both hands up on the top by then with one up to the elbow. It had started to pull itself up and that terrible one eye was about to get a good look. Inaros hurried them, and they stepped out into the river and began to climb down among the rocks. They tried to keep out of the swirls, jetties, and avoid the mini waterfalls that followed the precipitous drop to the sandy beach below.

Golden Door Chapter 9 David by the Pool

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David and Inaros walked through the hills on what appeared to be a path. David had not recognized it as a path at first because fallen leaves, stones, sticks and overgrowth completely covered it. They startled a few partridges right away. The birds took to the sky in a flurry of wings. After that, they saw more than their fair share of birds and squirrels, and one white tailed deer that scramble off into the trees at their approach. David kept his eyes open for bees and spiders, and his ears open for larger predators, but the area around him seemed quiet and peaceful, even tranquil in a way.

“I can almost smell the sea from here, boy. Do you smell it?” Inaros took a great whiff of air and let it out slowly. He walked on his own and had since he stopped trying to animate his words. He paused to lean on his cane.

“Sir?” David felt that word was appropriate. Inaros pointed. They had been following a stream for some time and slowly worked their way down hill. David looked, but all he could see was blue on the horizon.

Inaros spoke. “The trouble is always where does the sky end and the sea begin? Sailors know”

David looked again and he thought he saw a distant line separating the two. “I think I see it.”

“You will, boy. Practice with that nose and you will smell it, the smell of clams and brine of the salty sea. And practice with those ears and you may even be able to hear it crashing against the rocks from this far away. I know I don’t hear like I did when I was young, but even I can imagine hearing it from here.” He appeared rested and they started walking again. “It is Swift’s Gulliver, eh? And I am one of the Little People.” He laughed and slapped David on the shoulder. David laughed as well but looked up at the elf who stood considerably taller than himself.

After a time, they came to a short cliff and had to climb down carefully to the woods below. These woods seemed less inclined to be overgrown with burrs and pines, though the pines were still present, the trees had begun to thin out even more as they approached the salty air coming up off the distant water. The stream tumbled off the short cliff and crashed into a pool with a minimum of spray and foam because the cliff proved not terribly high. The pool looked like it churned the same water since the beginning of time.

“Time to rest.” Inaros announced, and David did not argue. The old elf probably needed a mid-morning nap.

“I’ll take the first watch, Captain,” David said with a short salute. He was a good sport and willing to indulge the gentleman who smiled and patted his shoulder.

“’Ware the Jabberwock, my son,” Inaros said, as he stepped heavily over to rest against a tree. Hardly a moment later, David heard the snores.

David wandered to where the stream came out of the pool and decided that it might be a very small river, being waist deep where he checked with a long stick, and it seemed twice the distance across than he could jump, even with a running start. He wanted to see how deep the pool might be, so he took his stick and poked, but he could hardly reach the center of the pool.

David looked at Inaros who slept peacefully. It would be June soon enough, and it warmed up nicely as they headed toward noon. David decided to slip off his shoes and socks and change his fairy weave long pants of the morning into shorts for the afternoon. With that, he waded out into the pool for some distance. He poked with the stick and tried to find the deepest spot. His stick brushed against a fish, and he scrambled out of the pool as fast as he could just on the general principal that he would be better safe than sorry. The fish came to the surface and poked its’ head out of the water to stare up at him.

“Ouch,” the fish said, and David felt too astonished for words. “Want to eat me?” The fish asked.  It looked like a very big, and apparently, a very old fish.

“What?”

“Eat me,” the fish repeated. “All of the wisdom and knowledge in the world is in my flesh.”

“I’m sorry?” David said. “I’ve never talked to a fish before.”

“Salmon,” the fish said. “I was going up-stream to spawn and die when Alice, the lady of the castle, put in this cliff and waterfall. I’ve been stuck here, down below for thousands of years.”

“Eat you?”

“I’m tired,” the salmon said. “I want to go over to the other side, but I don’t know the way. Someone has to cook me and eat me, and I promise all the wisdom and knowledge of the ages.”

“Stop it.” David felt sure the fish was lying to him.

“I’ll prove it!” The fish said, indignantly. “Touch me and lick your finger, and you will be able to teach your seventh-grade teachers a thing or too when you get back to school in the fall, I guarantee it.”

“How did you know I am going into the seventh grade?” David responded, sharply.

“I know all about you, David,” the salmon answered. “I had to do something to occupy my time while swimming around this pool for thousands of years. You think I am kidding about knowing everything?”

“Stop.” A young man of some sort stepped up beside David. “We don’t talk to fish, least of all Salmon know-it-alls.”

“Yeah!” A second young man who stepped up on David’s other side, agreed.

“Little bugs.” The fish spat at them. “If you won’t eat me, perhaps I should eat you.” The fish began to grow, like a blowfish, and as it swelled it came more and more out of the water. All three young men shrieked before the two on each side of David pulled on David’s hands to get him out of there. But David responded slowly, as if the fish had hypnotized him. The salmon’s mouth opened, and there were plenty of sharp teeth inside. In fact, the salmon began to look less like a salmon and more like a great white shark; but still David could hardly move. His feet felt glued in place.

An arrow shot out from the bank of the pool, followed by two darts and another arrow. Something must have struck home, because the fish immediately began to deflate, and as it did, David became able to break eye contact with the beast. He let the two boys, and he thought they were boys, lead him up the bank of the river pool. When he looked more closely, he saw three young people dressed in hunter green, and Inaros up, with the darts in his hand. The three newcomers smiled, and the young woman with the bow and arrows bowed slightly and nudged the two boys to tell them to do the same.

“Lord Inaros,” the young woman spoke. “I am pleased to see that you have not fallen into the clutches of the beast in the castle.”

“Hardly,” Inaros said. He leaned on his cane and returned his remaining darts to his pouch. “It would take more than a sea devil to trap these old bones. Er, Floren, isn’t it?”

“Exactly so,” Floren said with another slight bow, and David made note of the pointed ears and understood that this was another elf. “I also see that these are strange times, indeed, that you should travel about with a mere human from the Midgard lands.”

“Earth.” Inaros corrected the name. “And this is David, son of the Kairos.”

“Oh.” Floren went to one knee, but the boys grinned.

“I’m Oren,” one said and stuck out his hand which David gladly shook.

“I’m Alden,” the other spoke. He looked a little older. They seemed to David to be about James’ age, but when he remembered that Inaros claimed to be fifteen hundred years old he held his tongue. They were probably older than he was.

“David,” he said, and he gladly shook both hands.

“Up, up.” Inaros insisted, and Floren did rise but with a look at David to make sure it would be all right. “David’s a fine boy, and he doesn’t bite,” Inaros said. “But tell me, how is it you are free in this neck of the woods.”

“We were hunting.” Oren spoke right up. “And we were trying to get lost.”

“Why would you want to get lost?” David wondered.

“Elves don’t get lost,” Inaros whispered, a bit too loud.

“Young Lord,” Floren explained. “I was to babysit my younger brother and his friend. They were trying to lose me.”

“And we would have, too,” Alden insisted and folded his arms across his chest.

Floren ignored the boy. “And for a week, nearly ten days, we have been hiding out here by the pool. We have a small camp on the other side of the river, and fresh fish cooking for lunch.”

“Not salmon.” David wanted to be sure. Floren shook her head but smiled at the thought.

“Come on,” Oren yelled, and he tugged on David’s sleeve. He turned and ran with such speed he raced across the water and hardly got his feet wet. Alden ran right behind.

“I can’t do that,” David protested while Inaros winked at Floren, and she smiled. The next thing David knew, Inaros bonked him on the head with his cane, and not softly, and Floren whipped his bare legs with her bow, which stung, and his feet started to move. He ran across the top of the water and hooted the entire way, while Inaros and Floren watched. When David stopped, turned around and shouted.

“That was great!”

Floren waved and raced to his side faster than David could blink. Inaros picked up his cane, put one hand on his alpine hat, and crossed the top of the water in four quick, very leggy strides.

“Refreshing,” he said on the other bank. “But I am always hungry after a nap and a good run.” David did not hear. He ran off to find Oren and Alden, and laughed at the speed, and Floren went right behind him, thinking that now she had three young men to watch.

When the fish got ready, the boys climbed down out of the trees, and David finally tired of running around with super speed, they sat and had a good, if a bit early lunch.

“We are headed for the sea,” Inaros explained. “We hope to find a way to the Palace under the sea, set your father free of his enchantment, and if possible, get the ladies out of the dungeon as well.”

“Eh?” David said in imitation of the old man. He looked up for an explanation having caught the part about their father.

Inaros leaned over. “Floren and Oren are the children of Stongheart and Lady Lisel,” he said, and then apologized. “I am sorry, but I do not recall Alden’s family.”

“Cause I’m a mountain elf, you know, a kobold, not strictly in the elf line,” Alden said and Inaros nodded. David nodded as if he understood as well, but he could hardly see much difference. Alden looked a half-foot shorter, but then James was small for his age group, so David thought nothing of it. He looked closely, then, and decided that Alden’s skin might have been a little darker and his ears not quite so pointed, but it did not mean much.

David tried the fish. He found he could eat it even if it was not his favorite. He preferred the bread, though, with plenty of butter, and he knew that at least his finicky self would not starve. Then he had a thought. “This fish isn’t salmon, is it?” He just had to ask again, to be triple sure.

“No,” Floren said, with a smile and a sweet, lilting laugh. “You asked that already.”

David returned her grin. “Because the salmon said he knew everything, but I’m not ready for that yet.” David always spoke in utter honesty about what he thought and felt, and because of it, he sometimes shared more than he should.

Floren smiled even more deeply at his words. “Well, I wouldn’t worry about it. The salmon was probably just bragging.”

“No,” Inaros said to everyone’s surprise. “Maybe it does know everything, but that is still no excuse for being rude.”

Golden Door Chapter 8 Morning Matters, part 2 of 2

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

“Castles.” Inaros underlined the plural.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fairies,” Mrs. Aster whispered.

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

“His lady?” Chris asked.

“Lisel.” Deathwalker said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re in,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You go next,” James said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MONDAY

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

*

Medieval 6: K and Y 20 End and Beginning, part 1 of 2

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Kirstie

Benches and tables had been turned over all around the big house. Chairs were broken and tables were moved every which way. Kirstie thought the big room was empty at first, but she heard a sound in the corner of the dais opposite the door and saw some movement behind a table.

“Hello?” she called.

Wilam went to the door, while Inga and Erik stared at the wreckage. “A battle?” Erik asked, not really knowing. Inga shrugged as if to say she did not know, but she added a thought.

“No bodies.”

Wilam wisely peeked before he opened the door. He saw armed men in the street and marketplace, and there appeared to be bodies outside. He shut the door carefully and returned to report to the others but found Kirstie up on the dais.

“Hello,” Kirstie said, pushing a turned over chair from her path.

“Kirstie?” the word came back, a girl’s voice.

“Hilda?” It sounded like her childhood friend. she helped move the table as Hilda stood from where she hid.” What happened?” Kirstie asked as she took her friend’s hand and helped her come to join the others. Hilda began to weep so her words came out in bits and pieces.

“Liv’s men from Varnes… The king’s men… Other men… Kare.” Hilda tried to sniff and pull her thoughts together when Inga reached out and held her. “They came to the house. Thoren took the boys to your house, to Yrsa and Lyall. He said he would get help, but I think he feared the men might be at your house. He told me to go to the Witcher Women across the way. He said I should be safe there.” She began to weep again in earnest. “The women were all dead… They killed Mother Vrya…”

Kirstie picked up the story for Wilam and Erik as Inga began to cry with Hilda. “I’m guessing they went to the Witcher Women before invading Hilda’s home. She probably ran here looking for a safe shelter when they gathered on the road to attack our house.” She reached out to touch Wilam’s arm while she fought her own tears.

“What about the men in town? Where is Chief Kerga? Where are the village elders and the captains and their crews? There are bodies outside, and armed men I don’t recognize in the streets.”

Kirstie nodded and sniffed herself. “The men are at sea or living in Nidaross. They may be the king’s men, but you know the king did not send them. You, me, and the king were fighting the Swedes just a month ago, and the good men of the Trondelag are probably still there, fighting. Kare probably recruited all around the fjord. Don’t be surprised if Bieger, Lind, and Gruden are around. As for Liv… I don’t know what to think. She was a strange one when we were growing up.”

“Liv,” Hilda interrupted. “Liv is here, and her men.”

Kirstie nodded. “She got more strange as the years went on. I don’t know how she became the owner and captain of her own ship.” Kirstie shook her head.

They heard the noise from the outside. It sounded like it was increasing in volume and intensity. Kirstie and Wilam had to look. The elves and fairies of the woods had arrived and were driving back the so-called king’s men. Kirstie saw that Booturn brought a whole company of dwarfs with him, and they were attacking with hammers and axes. Vortesvin ran at the men and the king’s men scattered and ran away from the big troll.

“In here. Quick,” they heard, and Kirstie shouted as she and Wilam closed and barred the door.

“Liv.” Kirstie spat at the door. “Inga, take Hilda to the storeroom and lock yourselves in. There is one window if you need to get out.”

Inga did not argue, but Hilda kept staring, open mouthed, and was slow to respond. Kirstie called for her armor and weapons and found a couple of additions to her ensemble. Yasmina’s small cavalry-shield and scimitar appeared in her hands. She quickly handed the small shield to Erik who stood beside Wilam. Wilam pulled his sword and grabbed a broken chair to serve as his shield. Erik still had the mace he took from the castle wall in Avalon.

Something banged on the front door, hard. Kirstie looked to be sure Inga and Hilda got out when a dozen men burst out of the storeroom. Kerga, Alm, and Thoren led the way. Then the front door got ripped off the hinges. A twelve-foot hag stepped into the room, ducking her head a bit under the ceiling. Plenty of men followed her.

“How can there be a hag?” Kirstie asked. “And one as big as the one in America which was six girls combined.”

The hag answered. “You killed my father!” It was Liv. Kirstie imagined she should have been more surprised, but somehow, she knew all along. She wondered instead how Liv could be a hag without the power of Abraxas behind her. Then she got too busy to think.

She dragged the scimitar across the throat of the man that came at her. It happened by reflex. She nearly cut the man’s head off. It was Lind. She mumbled, “Two for two,” and let go of the weapon. The scimitar vanished and her battleaxe flew to her hand.

Chief Kerga and two others went at the hag. Kirstie tried to yell, “No.” but it was too late. She tried to run and help, but the Liv-hag caught her with a backhand that sent her across the room. Her shield cracked, her arm broke, and her ribs caved in all from that one blow. She could only lay there and watch.

Wilam killed Bieger. Thoren, Alm, and the others drove the king’s men back outside, but then stayed near the door. They did not want the elves or dwarfs to mistake them for the enemy. Wilam stood out front knowing the little ones would recognize him and he could turn them away. Alm stood with him.

With the room mostly empty, Liv turned on the broken body of Kirstie at her feet. “You killed my father,” Liv repeated, and Kirstie thought with cool dispassion.

Of course. Liv is a demigod, daughter of the evil Abraxas. She thought of what both Grandfather Njord and Father Fryer said when they gave her the gifts of water and fire. It will be enough. She could only try.

Kirstie sat herself up, her back to the wall. She raised her good hand and poured the fire of the sun on the hag. She gave it every ounce of fire she had in her. The hag reveled in the flames and grew to eighteen, maybe twenty feet. Kirstie dispassionately thought this was the last gasp of the titans whose blood still ran in the gods of old.

Liv roared as she busted through the ceiling and roof of the big house. Great timbers came crashing down to the floor, and one wall busted free of the structure. She roared like the sound of a hundred lions. The building caught fire and it spread rapidly, but Kirstie could not help that. She simply opened her mouth.

A fountain of water flowed from her mouth. It quickly became a stream of water, and in the end a roaring river, more than the biggest firehoses combined. It completely covered the burning hag. In the future, Kirstie swore she heard a loud Snap or Crack when the glue that held the hag together busted altogether. Kirstie remembered the Grendel. She fully expected Liv would not melt exactly like the others. She would retain some of her size and shape, but she would surely be dead. It was enough.

Kirstie smiled, knowing that this was definitely the last. She looked around at the building and knew she did not have more water to put out the burning wood. The big house would burn rapidly to the ground with her in it. She did not mind. She felt certain she was dying.

She saw movement. It looked like a man with a sword at the ready. She recognized him when he got close and spat his name, though she could hardly talk. “Gruden.”

“Kairos,” he responded, and grinned. “The Masters have determined that if I can kill you before your time, that will disrupt your rebirths and end them. Then you will not be around to stand in the way of their plans, and they can ruin the world as they please.”

Kirstie shook her head. It did not work that way. The God who knows the end from the beginning would know ahead of time the precise moment of her death. That would be her proper time, no matter what the Masters did.

Gruden stepped up to her, sword in hand, pointed down at her middle. She did this once with Captain Ulf on the field below Lindisfarne, only that time she sat up and turned so Ulf missed her. Now, she could hardly move. Her entire left side felt numb.

Gruden looked ready to strike. Kirstie called for her long knife, Defender. The knife vacated its sheath and flew to her hand, so when Gruden came down with his sword and pierced her in the middle, her knife went up into the man’s chest, cutting him in the heart, using the man’s own motion toward her to make up for her failing strength.

Kirstie knew she would not survive the cut in her belly. She would soon bleed out her life. But Gruden’s eyes went wide with surprise when Defender cut him deeply. He fell and died quickly.

Wilam braved the flames and the collapsing big house. He found her readily enough. The sword fell out from the weight of the handle. It made the cut worse, but that hardly mattered. Wilam lifted her and carried her outside to lay her down gently.

Kirstie wanted to tell him she loved him. She wanted to say, sell the properties if you can, though she imagined the survivors would move to Nidaross and abandon Strindlos. Strindlos, without Chief Kerga and without Mother Vrya and without the meeting hall to designate the center of the village would become a ghost town, like the village never existed. She wanted to tell him to take the children to Northumbria to his family and live there, but she could not breathe. Her lungs were punctured and collapsed, so she opted just to kiss him until she passed out.

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

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Kirstie

“You evaded my traps much too easily. I felt sure the dragons would devour you right at the beginning.”

“Dragons are smarter than you think. They will not bite the hand that feeds them.”

Abraxas squinted at her. “I did not know you could move from place to place here like one of the gods.”

“There is much you do not know about this place.”

“I know I have shut down your access to other lives. You cannot call on one of your godly lives to challenge me. It is just mortal you in this place.”

“But this is my place, and you have no business being here.”

He whined and his face contorted with anger. “You shut down the rest of my options. I was all set to go to a completely different world on the other side of the earth. I wouldn’t have bothered you. I had followers. But no, you killed them. You went all the way there and killed them. This place is all I have left.”

“Now is your chance to let go and go over to the other side.”

“No!” He sounded like a three-year-old. And he screeched. “You don’t know what that means. The gods are immortal. I haven’t had a chance to live. I’m not finished. I’m not ready.”

“Now,” Kirstie thought and said out loud.

“You mortals cannot hurt me. Your weapons cannot hurt me.” He yelled, but as he spoke he got pelted with keyboards, wires, and all kinds of equipment from overhead. Cassandra shot her arrow and scooted behind a desk chair. Inga threw her vial which burst and filled the room with smoke and a noxious smell. Wilam and Brant, now behind him, yelled a war cry like they were ready to attack him with their swords.

Abraxas threw his hands forward and made Cassandra and Inga push back to the wall. The force drove Erik right back into the hall, but Kirstie ducked. He threw his hands up and scattered the elves that were bombing him with equipment from the skylight above. He spun around, angry at the annoyance and shot a poison spell at Wilam, but Brant jumped in front, so he caught the full spell.

When Abraxas turned back around, he found Kirstie in his face and her battleaxe cut deeply across his middle. She cut deeper into his side on her backswing and the axe caught in his ribs. He looked down as his life began to quickly bleed out and he looked like he did not understand. “But no mortal weapon can harm me.”

“Made by the dwarfs Eitri and Brokkr under the blessing of Odin himself,” she responded, as her long knife Defender vacated its sheath and flew to her hand. “The others were just distracting you.” She shoved the knife in the heart of the god and Abraxas collapsed, still not comprehending what happened. “Made by the dark elves in Mount Etna under Vulcan’s watchful eye.” Kirstie held her hand out and the long knife vacated Abraxas’ chest, pulling a piece of his heart with it. “And I have been counted among the gods from the beginning, even when I am strictly a mortal nobody.”

“But…” it was Abraxas’ last word.

Kirstie stood while Abraxas died, or as they say, went over to the other side. Everyone else stayed on their knees, gagging for their breath, not the least because of Inga’s stink bomb. They rubbed their sore muscles, looked for cuts, and examined their bruises. They all turned their heads to the door when they heard a clinking-clanking sound.

A knight dressed head to toe in plate armor such as had not yet been invented stepped into the room. He said nothing but went straight to Abraxas and lifted the body off the floor. He easily slung the skinny dead god over his shoulder, turned, and exited the room to disappear down the hall. Inga, Cassandra, and Erik all spoke at once.

“Who was that? What was that? Where did he come from? Where did he go?”

“A Knight of the Lance,” Kirstie said as she sat at a desk and began furiously poking at the flat box with the letters and symbols on it.

Brant collapsed and moaned. Wilam held up his head and Brant smiled for him. Inga ran as much a she could. She got down beside him to examine him. She found some tears in her eyes and turned to Kirstie.

“I don’t know what it is. There is no wound. He is growing cold.”

Kirstie paused and got down with the others. She traded places with Mother Greta because she could do that again, now that the source of the pressure that closed off her personal timeline was removed. Mother Greta had little magic, but one thing she could do was diagnose internal problems much easier than Doctor Mishka who would have to draw a blood sample to analyze. It did not take long.

“Sorcerer’s poison,” she said, and shook her head as if to say there was nothing she could do.

“He obviously meant it for me,” Wilam said. “But Brant got in the way.”

“He wanted to hurt Kirstie as much as he could,” Greta said before she went away, and Kirstie came back to finish the thought. “That is the way an evil mind works. Abraxas claimed to be a god over good and evil, but no one ever saw the good in him.”

Brant struggled to talk. He looked at Inga and whispered through uncooperative lips and tongue. “It is what we do.” He tried to turn to Wilam, but all he could turn was his eyes. “I’ve been watching out for you since you were a baby. Give me this one.” He looked again at Inga, and she bent over him, eyes full of tears, and planted her lips on his. He closed his eyes, and after a moment he turned cold, and Inga pulled back from his lips and cried on him.

Kirstie and Wilam cried with her, but eventually, Kirstie got up and went back to her workstation. She traded places with Alice of Avalon because Alice was the one who set it all up in the first place. She would correct whatever was amiss. And while she grieved for Brant, as any life of the Kairos would, she did not feel the immediate sting as certainly as Kirstie.

Erik and Cassandra stood by the door. The elves that escaped to the roof when Abraxas came and pelted him with electronics when the time was right, came first. They worked in the control room and quickly returned to their stations to help. They acknowledged Erik and Cassandra as they came in. Erik smiled, remembering the elves he met the last time he, Inga, and Kirstie visited Avalon. Cassandra looked more astonished and inclined to bow her head to the people of legend and look down like one who felt unworthy.

Erik questioned her, and she answered forthrightly. “The Amazons have always seen the little ones as a sign of good fortune and great blessing.” Erik understood .and pointed down the hall.

A delegation of little ones came toward the control room. It looked like the kings and queens of the dais—the elves of light and dark, the dwarfs, and the fairies, with their attendants. It also looked like the lesser gods who called Avalon home; the Naiad of the spring that burst from the rocks beside the great tower that housed the Heart of Time, the Dryad of the deep forest that began at the back of the castle and climbed all the way up the distant mountains, and the oread of the mountains themselves that kept Avalon and the many isles grounded in reality. Erik had to keep Cassandra from falling to her knees.

Alice came to the door. “Welcome friends. All is settled. The evil one who disturbed your peace is no more. He has gone to the other side. But we lost a man in the struggle. He was a great man and should be treated and buried in all honor and respect. Please take him and prepare him.”

Several attendants broke from the group and waited patiently until Inga indicated they could take Brant’s body away.

Brant was buried in the cemetery near the tower of the Heart of Time, and the others stayed three days in the castle. When the time came to go home, Kirstie first sent Cassandra back to the Isle of the Amazons. The others gathered in the Great Hall beside the Hall of Feasting.

“We cannot go back to Aesgard, or to Freyja’s Hall in the place of the Vanir. Our route is simpler, and direct. She waved her hand as she did many times by then, and a door appeared between here and there. The little ones all waved goodbye and said encouraging words, though Inga and Wilam seemed barely able to smile.

When Kirstie opened the door, she found the Big House back home on the other side, but something did not feel right. The place was empty, though it was the middle of the day, and she saw signs of violence in the big room.

Medieval 6: K and Y 18 Aesgard to Avalon, part 2 of 2

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Kirstie

The cave disappeared, and they found themselves in a room, much like the meeting room in the big house in Strindlos. The room had wooden benches, a couple of tables, and a raised platform on one end with a couple of chairs, presumably for the chiefs. Fortunately, no one appeared to be present at the moment.

“Everyone here?” Inga asked, because somehow she lost hold of Erik, but all were present. Erik managed to squeeze himself between Wilam and Brant when the chittering started behind them.

Erik asked, “What was that chittering?”

“Dragon babies,” Kirstie said offhandedly. “Not something to get tangled with. Really sharp teeth.” Kirstie seemed to be focused on the lines again as they appeared in mid-air.

“Looks like home,” Wilam said, looking around.

“Except it looks clean,” Inga countered. “The floor has been swept.”

Brant supported Inga. “They have picked flowers in vases on small tables by the windows off to the sides and on the altar at the back of the dais.

“And it does not smell like too much beer and sweat,” Inga concluded.

“We have been here before,” Erik added his own conclusion, which got Inga to take a second look around.

“Not here, exactly,” Kirstie said, and she touched something in the air that caused the lines to temporarily disappear.. “This is Amazon Island. The Amazon women control all this land.” She looked at Wilam and added, “I hit the reset button,” even if he did not know what she was talking about. “The transport program should reset to the default settings.”

The door opened at the far end of the hall, and a handful of armed women came in to welcome, or maybe confront their visitors. The women stopped by the door and one asked, “Who are you and what do you want?”

Kirstie quickly stepped in front of Wilam, and Inga took the hint and stepped in front of Brant. She had to shift her bag to the other arm to do it. Erik still stood between the two men, but Kirstie figured he would be fine. At seventeen, he still looked mostly like a boy. “Kirstie,” she said. “Kairos of this present time. And Thriacia, why have you let Abraxas come into this place?”

The women pulled up. The two with spears raised them from their threatening position and backed to the door, like guards. The one on the left and the one on the right both looked at the one in the middle, no doubt Thriacia. Thriacia looked startled. “Lady,” she said. “Why have you let men into the sanctuary?”

“Women sit in the meeting house back home. Men are allowed here as long as they sit to the side and only speak when they have permission.” Kirstie returned to playing with the lights in mid-air. Wilam, Brant, Inga, and Erik had no idea what she was doing, or how she could cause lights to appear in the middle of the air, though Inga maybe guessed the closest. The Amazons looked like they were equally unsure how Kirstie was doing what she was doing, or even what exactly she was doing.

“But…” Thriacia started again.

The woman on the left interrupted, speaking to the question. “We did not let Abraxas come here. We could not exactly stop him. The evil one has done much damage while we have awaited your arrival. Lady Alice is stymied and can hardly hold things together.”

The one on the right added softly, “She may be ill.” Thriacia nodded and pointed to the woman, like she spoke the truth.

“May I ask,” Brant said in his formal best. “Where is this evil one and how can we reach him?”

Thriacia and the women looked hard at the man for speaking out of turn, but Thriacia softened after a moment of reflection. “You may ask, though it would be better if you let your woman speak for you. As for the enemy, my report, as the mermaids who cannot shut up tell it, they heard from the elves that the man is in the castle on Avalon proper and he has found his way to the main control room where he is trying to puzzle out the, um, programming?” She looked at Kirstie who nodded to say she used the right word.

“How…” Wilam began, but Kirstie stomped on his foot. Fortunately, Inga caught the idea and spoke.

“How do we get there from here?”

“I am the queen here,” Thriacia said and pointed to the quiet one, “My healer, Lydia.” She pointed to the one who answered the question. “My hunter, Cassandra, and you are?”

“Inga, volva of Strindlos and the Trondelag, and skald of the Norse people.”

“The wise woman of the Norse is welcome here, but the way to the castle is a journey. Cassandra can guide you.”

Cassandra nodded. “I need to see to my son and kiss my husband and I will be ready,” she said, and Lydia leaned over to speak.

“You are always ready,” she said in her soft voice. “It is annoying.”

“No need,” Kirstie said all of a sudden. “The teleport is back online. I better use it before Moron messes it up again. Hold hands.” Kirstie took Wilam’s hand and Cassandra rushed forward to grab Inga’s hand just before Kirstie touched the line. Once again, the whole room around them changed to a completely different room.

Kirstie put her hands up, but this time the light did not come. “Well,” she said, “At least we are in Castle Turning. Let us hope he hasn’t figured out how to turn the place.” She stopped and looked around at the new hall they were in. It looked long and narrow with a fireplace at one end and a table and chairs on a platform at the other end. One wall was lined with alternating bookshelves and tapestries. The other had windows with some sort of glass that looked out on a balcony and over to a lovely garden area.

“Cassandra?” Inga asked, wanting to get the name straight.

Kirstie let out a small laugh. “Aren’t you afraid the Princess will be mad at you for using her name, the name she hates?”

“Lady,” Cassandra spoke to the point. “Don’t start that argument all over again. The Amazons took a vote and approved Cassandra and Lydia and other names of yours, and the Princess already said she did not mind other people having the name, she just could not stand it for herself.”

“But if it is her name…” Brant was not sure how to ask the question, he never met the Princess and only saw her at a distance, and only knew her as Princess.

“She gets mad if we call her Cassandra. She goes by the name, Princess.”

Brant nodded and Inga interrupted with a comment. “We have been here before. This is Avalon.”

“I thought I recognized the garden,” Erik said as he stared out of the windows.

Kirstie nodded. “The hall of feasting is to the right. It has some windows that look down on the same garden.”

“Which way do we go?” Wilam asked.

“We go the opposite direction. There are several passages we need to navigate to get to the control room.” She headed toward a door between two tapestries, and the others followed. It seemed wide and tall but otherwise an ordinary enough hallway at first, with the occasional table with flowers, wall decorations, including a few paintings and more tapestries, and a few windows to the outside world near the occasional doors that led to some room or other. Now and then another hallway went off to the left or right, and twice they passed a crossroads.

“This is much further than I would have guessed,” Wilam finally said.

“This fortress must be bigger than any on earth,” Brant agreed.

“Endless,” Erik said, dredging up the memory from what the dwarfs told him.

“Don’t believe everything the dwarfs say,” Kirstie mused, and held her mouth while she walked. She got an impression from some elves in and around the control room. It came on her private wavelength, like a prayer to the goddess of the little ones. It was one place—one form of communication Abraxas could not tap into. They said they were in a position to distract the god when she was ready. Before she could answer the light dimmed, like the torches lost some of their flare, and every other torch disappeared altogether. “Oh no,” Kirstie said out loud and picked up her pace.

The air turned toxic. Inga, Cassandra, and Erik began to cough. Wilam held his nose and said, “Smells like your foundry.”

Kirstie shouted. “Hold your breath.” and touched something on the wall.

Everyone tried their best as they found themselves suddenly underwater. The hall looked the same, though the torches were missing. Instead, they had skylights on the ceiling to let in light from some source, maybe the sun, and they had to swim, though they could walk or bob slowly through the water.

Kirstie was not bothered because of the gift of Njord. She could breathe underwater after a fashion, but she feared if it went on too long for her friends, they might all drown. Fortunately, she found another spot on the wall and the hallway changed again, and while most coughed and tried to catch their breath, they got pushed by a great wind that came rushing down the hall. Erik was too close to a window that did not have any glass in it. He almost got blown out. Inga and Cassandra grabbed the boy and looked down.

“It is nothing but clouds beneath us,” Inga shouted to be heard above the howl of the wind.

“In here,” Kirstie said, and she opened the door and shoved Wilam into the room. When they all got inside, Wilam had to help her close the door, but when the door was closed, everything became still.

Medieval 6: K and Y 16 Good Men, part 4 of 4

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Kirstie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you all right?” Wilam asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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Kirstie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened to Birdie?” Ecgberht asked.

“She had to go home,” Kirstie answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do what?” Kirstie asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Kirstie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No. Not so long.” The men agreed.

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

“We will have them surrounded,” Wilam said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lord,” Hassel acknowledged Wilam.

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

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

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