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

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 11 The Chase, part 1 of 2

Kirstie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No. Not so long.” The men agreed.

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

“We will have them surrounded,” Wilam said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lord,” Hassel acknowledged Wilam.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Medieval 6: K and Y 2 Home, part 1 of 2

Kirstie

Kare tried. Kirstie could tell. He tried really hard to be good, but it was not in him. He was a demanding kind of person who had little sensitivity for those he considered beneath him. Kirstie and Kare argued from the beginning. She had to regularly remind him that she was not his thrall. Alm, the head elf, Yrsa’s husband, had a long talk with the man one afternoon, and after that, he left Alm and the volunteer elves completely alone, and he avoided Yrsa as much as possible.

Birdie the dwarf wife ignored the man. She kept working her loom and ignored everything he said. Kare eventually figured the old woman had to be deaf, and she was not worth bothering with.

Fiona, Kirstie’s thrall, and her boys Oswald, Edwin, and baby Sibelius were a special problem. Vortesvin scared Kare to death every time their paths crossed. Kare saw Vortesvin as a giant, which was bad enough. Kare never pierced the glamour that Vortesvin wore, which was just as well. The giant looked like an extra tall human, and his mind could discount much of what was seen. Seeing the actual troll might have caused Kare to run off screaming. Several times Kirstie thought that might be worth it. Of course, the fact that Kare could not see the troll told Kirstie, and everyone else who knew about such things, that much as she tried, Kirstie could not find any love for Kare. The elves, dwarfs, fairies, trolls, and all the rest of the little ones Kirstie had responsibility for would not harm Kare in any way, since he was her husband, but they would not be inclined to be kind to the man either.

Fiona and the boys were tied to Vortesvin, which frustrated Kare. The boys were learning to work the farm and did a good job for their young ages. Kare figured the older they got, the better they would work. He seriously thought about selling them for the money. Kirstie could just cover the work with her friends, as she called them. Vortesvin was the only snag in the scheme. The giant was not his to sell, and he figured Sibelius, the giant’s child might fall into that category. Though Sibelius was also the child of Fiona, so he might be counted as a thrall. Kare would have to find out the rules about such things.

~~~*~~~

Around the first of July, Kirstie confirmed that she was pregnant. She felt certain when she missed her period for the second time in the middle of the month. Her childhood friend Hilda became pregnant around the same time and she and Thoren, Kare’s friend, were excited. Kirstie and Kare argued to the point where Kirstie would not let him touch her. Kirstie blamed her one-night-stand honeymoon. Anyway, Inga confirmed the diagnosis.

“That will put my baby’s birthday around March first,” Kirstie said.

“More like the middle of March,” Inga countered. “Same as Hilda.”

“The ides of March. How appropriate,” Kirstie said, without explaining.

“Anyway,” Inga continued. “By mid-March, the days should begin to warm, and in the spring, there should be plenty to eat after the slim winter. You might not have to worry about such things, but many families do. Most of the children who die in their first year are the ones born from November to February when food is scarce.

~~~*~~~

Kirstie and Inga went to visit Hilda, and Hilda came running to hug them both. Hilda was so happy. Kirstie tried extra hard not to be jealous. She felt bad about saying something to break the good feelings.

“Have you heard from Liv?”

“That was the most terrible thing,” Hilda said. “When you were on your way home, Liv’s farm got attacked and both her mother and father were slaughtered, torn to pieces, and Liv was the only survivor. I understand she was covered in the blood of her parents, which Chief Kerga says is why the killers did not kill her. She looked like she was already dead.”

“They never found who did it, or why,” Inga added.

“Some of the men think it was an animal, like a monster bear. Mother Vrya says there is more to it than that, but she does not know what.”

“And she moved in with cousins in Varnes?” Kirstie wanted to get the story straight.

“Yes, she did,” Hilda said. “And no, I have not heard anything from her lately.”

~~~*~~~

 After hugging her friend and wishing her the best, Kirstie went with Inga to visit the Witcher Women. Mother Vrya was resting. She did that more and more as she aged, but when they came in, she sat up and said something Inga and Kirstie did not know. “Look at you,” she said to Kirstie. “Eighteen. All grown up, and married, and now going to have a baby. You know, I was married once.”

Inga and Kirstie looked at each other. They could not picture it. “Yes,” Mother Vrya insisted. “We were in love. We had no children, and I do not think my husband was unhappy, but when the call to arms went out from the sons of Ragnar Lodbrok, he answered the call. He did not live long. I grieved terribly. I went up into the mountains and thought to throw myself off from the highest cliff, but there, the spirits came to me, and I found myself.”

“Inga. You sing to the earth and the sky, and the great spirits of the old ways listen. I do not speak of the little spirits of the earth, air, fire, and water that follow Kirstie around, but the great spirits of old, even Mother Freyja herself. You are brilliant, quick to grasp many things and your understanding of much surpasses my own, but still, you have not found yourself. One day, perhaps. I ask the Mother Goddess of all the Volva to be gracious to you.”

“Kirstie.” Mother Vrya paused as if she could not quite reach the thing she was after. “Kristina. A name not known among the people. Your good mother named you after the new way unknown to us. She was a light in this dark world and the whole community mourned when she was taken from us.” She paused again to frame her words. “You know things only the gods know. I have seen it in the wind, the clouds, and the stars. And yet, I do not know if you will ever find yourself. You have been given too much for a young child. Too much is expected from you, and you expect too much from yourself. Much too much.” Mother Vrya shut her eyes and laid back down, turning on her side to turn her back to them.

Inga and Kirstie got the message. They left quietly and went to the cooking fire of the Witcher Women. The fairies Buttercup and Daphne were arguing about something. The poor old widow was trying to cook and keep her ears plugged at the same time. Kirstie pointed at Buttercup, the poor old woman, and Daphne in that order, and she named them. “Bubble-bubble, toil, and trouble.”

“I’m not trouble,” Daphne insisted.

“You are if you won’t let this poor woman do her work.”

“But it needs more salt,” Daphne said.

“It has too much salt,” Buttercup countered.

“You need to let the cook decide that.” Kirstie said. “You need to come with us. My baby is telling me we need to go home and rest for a bit. Besides,” Kirsti spoke to Buttercup. “Meriwood is missing you.”

“I know,” Buttercup responded. “But he is hunting with Alm and the boys right now. I don’t want to watch.”

Daphne flew straight to Kirstie’s belly, and Buttercup joined her. Kirstie felt the warmth as the fairies reached out to touch the baby inside her without actually touching her. “Maybe it is a girly,” Daphne said.

“No,” Buttercup countered. “She is having a boy.”

“Do you want to know what your baby will be?” Daphne asked, though the fairies already told her several times.

Kirstie turned to Inga. “Just as well,” she said. “I don’t think Kare could handle a girl.”

Inga understood, and they trudged back to Kirstie’s home.

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

Kirstie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are they still here?” Kirstie asked.

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

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

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

“Kerga said he would think about it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kirstie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Half empty?” the man asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What resources have you got?”

“Like you don’t know?” Yrsa said.

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

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

“Exactly as I think,” Skarde said.

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

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

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

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

“They wouldn’t,” Skarde said.

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

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

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

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

“Enchanted by the hag,” Kirstie said.

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

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

“Or both,” Yrsa added.

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

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

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

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

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

Kirstie answered. “Blame the elf.”

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

MONDAY

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

*

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

Kirstie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A pleasure,” Mariwood said.

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

“I hope I may stay,” Fiona said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MONDAY

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

*

Medieval 5: K and Y 9 Hiccups, part 2 of 3

Kirstie

Kirstie said, “Wait.” and put her hand up and called. “Mariwood.” The fairy came with a half dozen others. Aldean was the fairy negotiator, and after asking and receiving permission, he settled down on Frode’s shoulder. Kirstie tapped her shoulder for Mariwood while she turned on Aldean. “Sir Waldo is a friend. We are not here to beggar him. A reasonable exchange for the amber is fine, and North Sea prices, not what the amber is worth in Rome.”

“Yes, Lady.”

Kirstie turned to Count Duko. “Do you see? My king of a thousand ships and ten thousand men would know in a heartbeat what is happening on this distant shore. But as long as we can work things out fairly, I see no reason to send him word. I expect you will have no trouble selling our goods in the south. You will probably become rich, fat, and lazy.”

The count smiled, a crooked smile. “That is my hope.” He offered a slight bow.

Kirstie nodded. “Just so we understand each other.” She turned to Mariwood. “Would you mind sending your crew to the ship to fetch the remaining amber? Captain Stenson and Sir Waldo will need to look at it, and I am sure Count Duko will want to drool over it as well. If the crew gives you any trouble, tell Thorsten I sent you.”

“Yes, Lady,” Mariwood sounded like Aldean.

Some good deals were made that day, Count Duko got his amber at a reasonably small price in silver and Sir Waldo felt gregarious. He feasted all forty crew members, though in two shifts so half could stay aboard the ship in case Count Duko’s men decided to see if there was any more amber, ivory, or other precious items on board. Kirstie hugged Sir Waldo again before they left, thinking she may have made a friend, and he hugged her right back.

Yasmina

Yasmina was fourteen before she talked her mother into letting her go to the marketplace by herself. Of course, by herself meant having a bevy of young servant girls walk along behind the litter, and al-Rahim, Ahmed and a half-dozen guards surrounding the whole group. The guards mostly stayed back and watched, but still… Mother spent almost an hour just making sure Yasmina was properly dressed, heavy veil and all. Fortunately, it was a veil Yasmina, and Aisha could take down in the litter so they could breathe. They temporarily dropped it a couple of times in the market as well and hoped no one would tell on them.

With Aisha by her side, Yasmina led the procession of girls to the things she wanted to look at. Sadly, it meant having to put up with the prattle.

“Princess, look at this silk.”

“That yellow is the loveliest color.”

“Princess, that is a beautiful dress.”

“Look, these flowers are fresh picked.”

Aisha ignored the girls. She wore fairy weave which she could shape, color, and freshen with a thought. The material even repelled dirt so it always looked clean. As an elf, she did not honestly want anything the human world had to offer. It was mostly a time to share with Yasmina and hopefully keep her out of trouble.

Yasmina wondered what the girls might think or do if she went into the blacksmith shop to look at weapons.

Aisha and Yasmina eventually got to the jewelers in the open-air market. One old man in his booth had trinkets within reach. He kept the real and expensive items behind him on something like a pegboard that backed up almost to the wall. The center piece was a pendant. The stone looked orange, polished, and it was surrounded by red chips in a gold setting. Yasmina lowered her veil for a minute so she could breathe and figure out what she was looking at.

“Princess,” the old man said, knowing who she was. He turned his face away and put his hand up so he might not look at her.

Yasmina felt miffed. “I’m not that hard to look at.”

“Oh, no,” the old man said. “You are as beautiful as I have heard. More beautiful, but it is unseemly that a poor man such as I should see your radiant countenance with my eyes.”

Yasmina huffed and pointed. “I wish to see that pendant, the one with the orange stone in the center.” Yasmina put her veil back in place as the man smiled and turned all the way to reach for the piece.

“This is the most rare of all stones, and most expensive because of it. The stone is called amber, and it is surrounded with rubies.”

“Chips,” Aisha said. “Red emeralds.”

“Sort of all in the family for you,” Yasmina said and smiled at Aisha.

Even as the old man reached for the piece, an arm came over the board from behind and a hand grabbed the pendant. Somehow, a skinny young man squeezed between the pegboard and the wall.

The old man shouted. Two of the girls shouted. Someone yelled, “Thief,” as the young man squirted out from the back. Aisha had whipped her bow from her slip and had an arrow ready before the young man could take three steps. She fired and pinned the young man’s shirt to the wall, even as Ahmed and the guards moved to intercept him. Al-Rahim came straight to his princess as Yasmina walked the few feet to the thief where he was grabbed by the guard before he could set himself free from the arrow. She put her hand out.

The young man sheepishly put the pendant in her outstretched hand. She looked in the young man’s eyes and shook her head. “We are not playing out that story. Let him go,” she ordered. The guards looked at al-Rahim and he nodded, so they let him go. “If you are hungry, the food is in that direction,” Yasmina pointed.

The young man said nothing. He looked at al-Rahim and ran off.

She asked the jeweler how much. He gave her a price and she only bargained a little because she really wanted it.

“Lady,” Aisha said. “We did not bring enough money with us.”

“Father will make up the difference,” she responded while she slipped the gold chain around her neck so the pendant could hang between her young breasts. “One thing about being neglected by your father is he feels guilty. He gives me things to make himself feel better, like jewels and horses.” She turned on al-Rahim. “I want a real horse.” Al-Rahim said nothing.

When Yasmina and Aisha got back in the litter, they immediately lowered their veils and Yasmina couched her pendant. “Now I feel as if I have a piece of Kirstie with me,” she said. “She just got back from a real adventure.” Yasmina smiled for a moment before she turned a teary-eyes face toward her companion. “She had to kill a man,” Yasmina said and began to cry. Aisha, being an empathetic elf cried with her.

Medieval 5: K and Y 8 The Saxon Hag, part 2 of 2

Kirstie

“But wait…” Captain Otto started to object but got interrupted when a half dozen fairies flew up in front of him. They immediately got big and bowed to the girl.

“Lady,” the head fairy said, and Yrsa still translated for Otto and his men. “The hag is on the road bringing forty families and forty more men to Bremerhaven. I suspect they will attack the town to take control. I have no doubt they intend to invite Abraxas to cross over the channel and come to the continent.”

Kirstie paused and flipped to a totally different subject. “You look familiar,” she said to the fairy. “Why is that?”

The fairy smiled. “My father was Maywood and my mother Marigold, if you remember them.”

Kirstie smiled more as if to say she remembered. That was back in the days of Margueritte, and Genevieve. She stopped smiling when the fairy’s words penetrated. She called to her armor and weapons, and that shut everyone’s mouths. She quickly picked ten of the crew and told them to stay and guard the treasure,

“But wait…” Captain Otto said the words again, but he did not appear to know what else to say.

Kirstie grabbed the man’s hand. “Christian Otto. You better come and bring your twenty soldiers. The rest of you men follow me.” The men were typical Vikings, not inclined to listen to any woman other than their wife or mother, though they might give Mother Vrya and the Witcher Women a hearing. Kirstie, however, they knew in a different way. They followed her in the battle against the Vanlil, and they were dramatically reminded of just how special she was when the fairies came and bowed to her.

“Mariwood.” She named the fairy. “Please lead the way.” The fairy bowed again, got small with his companions, and flew in front. After a short way, Kirstie tapped her shoulder and Mariwood gladly came to rest there and ride where he could whisper the directions in her ear.

“I can tell you have done this before,” Mariwood said. “I would have thought you were still too young, no offence.” he pulled a little on her hair to get comfortable.

“Buttercup stays mostly with my friend Inga, but she rides on my shoulder sometimes.”

Mariwood thought for a minute before he added. “Buttercup sounds nice.”

“I don’t know,” Kirstie said. “She is what some call a frost fairy. It gets pretty cold where I live.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Mariwood said and got silent for a time to think about it. They had gotten to the Bremen Road that the hag and her people were coming up, so there were no more directions to give. It was just as well because Captain Otto finally had some questions he thought to ask.

“Are you a Valkyrie?”

Kirstie thought before she answered. “No. I’m a Shield Maiden. That is a female warrior among my people. Apart from that, I am a Christian as I confessed, and you should be the same. The old gods have gone away, and the new way has come. Do not doubt that. The hag we go to face, the servant of Abraxas who calls himself a god, is a terrible creature that has a whole town of people enchanted under her evil spell. Any doubt or confusion on your part and she will attack your mind.” Kirstie took a deep breath and said softly, “Although the Valkyrie used to work for me in the old days, or rather, they worked for themselves. I’m just the one who got blamed when they screwed up.” She remembered one time in particular before she quickly threw her hand over Yrsa’s mouth, so she did not translate that last part about the Valkyrie.

In a short way, they ran into the hag and her followers. The numbers were about even, and though the old lady hag looked surprised that the Vikings and townspeople appeared to be working together. Even so, much like the hag in Norway, this old lady hag anticipated their arrival. Her men came out from the trees and bushes and Kirstie’s and Captain Otto’s men barely had time to defend themselves.

Kirstie managed to get her shield to the front in time to block a spear. She stepped forward, making the long spear useless and swung her battleaxe, practically taking the man’s head off. Yrsa shot the man to her left. Mariwood got down and got big to stab the man to her right. It seemed they were ganging up on her position, but her Vikings pushed forward and pushed the enemy back, while Captain Otto and his soldiers kept the men away from her flank.

Kirstie, who stood by the river, had a moment to focus on the hag. Apparently, Kirstie noticed she picked up some elves during her march through town. The hag, reverted to a big, hairy monster, had taken several elf arrows. The arrows stuck, not being made by men. Yrsa managed a perfect shot in the hag’s eye. but while the hag roared from the pain, it pulled the arrows out, including the one from her eye, and she healed over. She instantly grew a new eye once the arrow was removed.

Kirstie did not know what to do. The road ran along the river, but the hag stayed on the far edge of the road, far away from the water. Someone shot a flaming arrow. It got followed by several flaming arrows, and like the last time, the hag roared in delight. It grew bigger as it became covered in flames, and it looked far stronger as its roar deepened. Kirstie panicked. She felt sure no convenient ogre would tackle the hag and shove the hag into the river.

She thought of Njord. It should be enough. Grandfather Njord said it would be enough, but before she could do anything, the burning, monstrous hag rushed to attack her. Kirstie screamed and backed up, only to trip over a rock by the river and fall on her backside. The hag was not so lucky as she reached her claws out to rip Kirstie to shreds, only to paw at the air. Kirstie proved to be a stumbling block. The hag’s forward motion caused it to trip over Kirstie and arms flailing, land smack in the river. Kirstie heard the hag yell.

“No. Abraxas, help me.” Then came the scream, and the hag quickly reverted to the old woman and melted to a puddle on the surface of the slow-moving water.

Captain Otto and his soldiers stopped fighting first when the enemy turned away, went to their knees, threw down their weapons, held their heads and moaned. Not to their credit, Kirstie’s Viking shipmates stopped last and killed a few of the enemy even when they were in no position to fight back.

The women and children under control of the hag that kept back during the fighting came up weeping. The men also wept. Kirstie thought it best to shout and Yrsa also shouted the translation. “Shipmates, back to the ship. Help the wounded.” She yelled at seven men to stay with her to help clean up the battlefield. and to the rest to remind them that they have a treasure to guard until we can sell it. “Captain Otto, sorry to leave you with the surviving men, women, and children. You can practice some Christian compassion. Remember, they were enchanted and could not help themselves. You might also find some converts among them.”

Kirstie stopped suddenly when she realized she killed a man. It all happened so fast. She just responded. It was reflex, like Bjorn the Bear said. She felt like throwing up. She did not want to do that in front of her shipmates. She looked at Yrsa and saw tears forming in the elf’s eyes. Thorsten, the big man who rowed behind her must have recognized the signs of distress. He hugged her with a soft word.

“You are one of us now.” He added a softer thought. “This is a terrible world we live in.” Kirstie did let out a few tears as Thorsten turned to the task at hand. They had three dead that needed to be buried. Captain Otto lost five. Kirstie had one shipmate who was so badly wounded he would probably not live the night. The enemy lost twelve and many were wounded. They did not fight well in their enchanted state. Fortunately, now that they were out from under the hag’s influence, they were more than willing to carry the dead into town where they could be properly buried.

Kirstie pulled herself together and called to Captain Otto. She grabbed Thorsten’s hand and one from the captain. “Don’t let go,” she insisted, but that was all she said as she went away, and Mother Greta came to take her place. Captain Otto let go, but at least he did not shriek. Thorsten surprisingly held on. In fact, he smiled and lifted his chain and leather to show the scar where he had been cut in the side.

“From the king’s house,” Thorsten said, and Greta returned the smile. She recognized her own work, but she did not dwell. She turned to Captain Otto and asked a question.

“How is your Latin?” She asked in Latin.

That question seemed to bring the man back to reality. He shook his head. “Not good.”

“Yrsa,” she called. “You will still have to translate.” Then she had a thought. “Mariwood.” he was right there. “You need to send a couple of your people to Rune and Frode in the guild hall or wherever they are. They may need help driving a good and fair bargain, so one of your people needs to be good at bargaining. We don’t want to beggar the people of Bremerhaven, but we want a fair return for the value of the goods we carry.”

“Right,” Mariwood said and reverted to fairy form. That got the shriek out of Captain Otto, and Greta could not help commenting.

“What? I still have blonde hair.” Greta knew Kirstie’s hair was more of a dirty blonde where hers was more platinum, almost white blonde, but still, it was not dark brown like Margueritte’s hair.

“But who are you?” Captain Otto asked. “You are older than the girl, and more…”

“More round?” Greta admitted. “I am Mother Greta, and the nearest you have to a healer in this place. Doctor Mishka is not authorized to come and help. Come. Let us see who we can help, even if my skills are seven hundred and fifty years out-of-date.” Greta already looked around and knew where she wanted to go first. Many of these men could be saved if they were careful to not let their wounds get infected. There was honestly nothing she could do about the worst.

“Valkyrie,” Captain Otto mumbled as he, Thorsten, and Yrsa followed Greta all afternoon.

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

MONDAY

The ship still needs to return home which is difficult when they get stopped again in the delta. Until Monday, Happy Reading

*

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

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.