Medieval 5: Elgar 4 Carhampton, the Sequel, part 2 of 2

March 13, 2024February 10, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Alfpryd had twin girls she named Alfswip and Alfswith, she said to honor her friends, Athelswith and Elgar’s sister, Eadswip. Elgar complained with the thought Doctor Mishka put in his head, though he was very glad the doctor had been there to help. Twins were not easy.

“I’ll never be able to tell them apart,” he said before he came up with his own complaint. “And about the names…”

“Now, we agreed,” Alfpryd interrupted. “I name the girls and you name the boys. Besides, Reed and Violet like the names.”

“I’m not surprised,” he said. They were elves and probably inclined to like any name that began with the word Elf, or Alf. Violet served as Alfpryd’s maid, and her husband, Reed, kept Elgar updated on the progress of the Flesh Eaters. “What does Poppy think?” Poppy was the local fairy Elgar sometimes mistakenly called Edelweiss.

“Poppy loves Alfwynn, and says she loves Alfswip and Alfswith already, and they are just babies.”

Elgar nodded. “You are such a lucky woman.”

“I know. I love my husband so much.”

“I meant, that you are loved by so many. Even the very spirits of the earth love you.” he gave her a kiss and left the room so she could rest. He found Reed waiting for him.

“What news?” he asked, and Reed understood his mood and skipped the niceties.

“The Flesh Eaters appear to have completed their survey of the earth and the civilizations presently that cover the globe. I feared briefly that they might settle in northern Tang, but the Tang have become like the Eastern Romans, past their prime. Likewise, the Hoy Romans and the Caliphate are falling apart due to internal squabbles. The Flesh Eaters have chosen the place where the warrior culture has become paramount even though unity has not yet been achieved.”

“The Danes,” Elgar understood. “My friends in the future, or whoever is controlling my rebirths, tends to put me where I am most needed.”

Reed nodded. “They hope to unify Danish and Norwegian lands very soon. Then they can work on uniting with the Swedish and Finish lands, and eventually the Baltic and Rus lands. That would make a substantial, young, vital, and ambitious empire that might conquer the world.”

“You think they are after world domination?”

“That has been much discussed among those who are watching. They have only one mothership and nothing in the way of support vessels. They do not have the resources to conquer the lands themselves and do not appear to have access to more ships and more Flesh Eaters. They may be renegades of some sort. Coming to a planet clearly marked Do Not Go suggests that possibility, though many say the Flesh Eaters would not care about that. But they are either renegades or their fleets and Flesh Eating people are occupied elsewhere and unable to help.”

Elgar shook his head and relayed what once he heard from Alice of Avalon. “Their home planet has been discovered by the Apes. There is a massive war going on in space right now.”

“As some suspected,” Reed said. “In any case, the Flesh Eaters here appear to have settled on the Danes as their servant intermediaries. Once the world is under control, without the Flesh Eaters having to fight and risk their own lives, then the Flesh Eaters can rule over all from behind the curtain and feast on human flesh for many, many centuries to come without fear of the humans rising up and rebelling against them. They are beginning to experiment with mind control devices but are several years, maybe a couple of decades from being ready.”

“Keep me informed,” Elgar said, with his thanks. “I suspect the reason I was born here is because England will be the test case. I imagine the Danes will first invade this island with the idea of conquest before they invade the continent. I think that will be the case even if Denmark and Germany share an easy land border.”

“First, the divided kingdoms of the Anglo-Saxons. Then the more powerful Franks and Germans. Then third, the Eastern Romans and divided Muslims. Then I don’t see anyone stopping them.” Reed concluded.

“Unless the Turks and Mongols miraculously pull themselves together a couple of hundred years ahead of schedule.”

“Turks and Mongols?” Reed asked.

Elgar waved him off. “Forget I said that.”

Reed nodded.

843 was a busy year. First the twins were born. Then Wulfrun reached her last month and everyone seemed happy when they got interrupted. Odda sent word from the Devon coast that a large number of Danish ships were seen sailing for Carhampton. Riders were sent out, but Wulfrun delivered a boy before the army gathered. Athelwulf hurried with four hundred men from Hampshire. He only had fifty on horseback, however, because he decided the expense of a full hundred was not worth it. Osric brought six hundred from Dorset, this time some coming from the north and from Sherborne. Eanwulf had his six hundred, but most came from the north where he rode. Few came from the west side of the Parrett, or from the Devon border area. Eanwulf was disappointed with his brother. Elgar simply complained.

“At this rate, the Danes will not only burn down the churches, they will have time to build big pagan shrines in their place.”

The king, Eanwulf, and Osric ignored the young man, as usual. When they arrived at Carhampton and camped in the same place King Ecgbert camped seven years earlier, they found a surprise waiting for them. A hundred and fifty men gathered from the coastal towns and another fifty from in and around Exmoor jointed them. They said what they were told was correct. If the Danes got a foothold on the coast, their homes would be the next to be burned. Apart from the two hundred men from Somerset, they also found a hundred brought by Odda from the coast of Saxon Devon.

“We have to stick together,” Odda told Eanwulf. “Otherwise, Devon may be next.”

Those three hundred men kept the sixteen hundred Danes in Carhampton bottled up for a month while they waited for the army to arrive.

“We have the numbers,” King Athelwulf thought, and proceeded to make the same mistake his father made. He threw his full force of roughly eighteen hundred foot soldiers, mostly farmers and tradesmen at the Danish line of twelve hundred. The Danes fought bravely and held the line for a long time, but when cracks began to appear in the Danish line, the Danish commander threw his fresh four hundred reserves in and that was enough to cause the exhausted Saxons to crumble. The Saxons had nothing in reserve.

Elgar looked around the camp. They had about a hundred and thirty men on horseback at most, and some of those were monks and priests surrounding the Bishop of Sherborne. They did not have enough men to attack the enemy. About all they could do was stand about and look mean to prevent the retreat of the Saxons from turning into a rout.

The Saxons fell back to their camp. They would fight again if they had to in order to prevent the Danes from breaking out of the town and into Somerset, but unless they needed to fight, they preferred to lick their wounds. The Danes, for their part, probably decided it was not worth the sacrifice to push inland. Instead, they gathered what treasures they stole and headed back out to sea.

Elgar yelled at his brother, and Osric was there to hear. Fortunately, the king was not there. “You have twice seen how the Heathens fight. You have seen how they hold some men back from the fight and when our men are exhausted, even if they are winning, the Danes throw their fresh men into the line and twice they have broken us. Twice we have come without horsemen, and twice we have been lucky the Danes have had no men on horseback. If they had, our men would have run for their lives and been cut down one after another. You saw how affective it was when our horsemen charged the Danes at Hingston Downs, and when we circled around and came up behind the Celts, we forced them to surrender and they had nowhere to run. Twice now at Carhampton we have handed the victory to the enemy by our foolish tactics. Learn something, for God’s sake.”

Elgar stomped off to his tent and did not wait for a response.

One result of the second battle of Carhampton was Elgar got promoted by his brother, and he was forced to move. “From the Parrett river north to the Severn Estuary, most of the coast is marshland and not suitable to bring many ships to shore,” Eanwulf said. “I surveyed the area in this last year when we went about. But from the Parrett River to the border of Devon, even on the coast of Exmoor, there are many places to land, especially the long, skinny, shallow draft ships of the Danes. I am making you the Dux of the coast from the Parrett River to the border with Devon to five miles inland so you will have the towns and villages there to watch the coast. I expect you to keep the heathens out of Somerset. Maybe you should live at Carhampton since the Danes seem to like that place.”

Elgar shook his head and hardly had to think about it. “Watchet,” he said. “The old Celtic fort there needs work since Grandfather Edgar tore it down, but it is near the center of the coast. From there, we can hold the Danes in check until you can get there with the army. We can set up a coastal watch like Odda has set in North Devon, and we can drive off simple raiding parties. But any substantial landing, you better back me up with the army or this won’t work.”

Eanwulf did not like to have to be bothered with that, but he agreed because he knew his little brother was right. “And maybe Osric and the men of Dorset can help. I think Osric’s uncle was right. The king does not need to be disturbed with every Danish landing. That is what he expects us to take care of to keep the kingdom safe.”

Great in theory, Elgar thought, but if the Saxons don’t learn anything, they will lose every time on the battlefield. They need cavalry, and to keep some fresh men in reserve to reinforce the line where it may be weakening. Saxon brute force might have been enough against the Welsh, but not against the Danes.

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

MONDAY

The Danes come in force to the Parrett River, as predicted, and the Flesh Eaters come to watch. Until Monday, Happy Reading.

Medieval 5: Elgar 3 Hingston Downs, part 2 of 3

March 6, 2024February 10, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

An older man named Godric led a thousand West Saxons from Carhampton and crossed the Exmoor to preemptively invade Countisbury and north Devon before the Celts and Danes could invade the coast of Somerset. The old man would have taken his time and ruined the surprise attack if he did not have his two lieutenants, Ceorle and Odda pushing him. When they arrived outside the city of Countisbury, the Danes, who had just arrived, simply turned around and marched back to Pilton and their ships. The outnumbered Celts began the long trek to Crediton and Exeter where they expected to find the king.

Godric left enough men in Countisbury to make the city a Saxon controlled city while he and Ceorle led most of the army to follow after the Celts. They did not feel the need to catch the Celts as long as the Celts kept moving out of the area. Godric was not in a hurry, even when Ceorle figured out the Celts were going to link up with their king and his much bigger army. “We will be the smaller claw of the crab,” Godric said. “King Ecgbert will be the big claw and we will crush the Celts between us.” He was not going to hurry.

At that same time, King Ecgbert and the main force of Wessex moved two days down the road between Somerton and Exeter. He had about twenty-three hundred foot soldiers, an additional three hundred men on horseback that he called his cavalry, and a dozen wagons full of tents and the supplies they would need for a war. The king of Cornwall did not know they were coming.

When the twelve-hundred men of Cornwall and Devon were gathered, along with nine hundred Danes, they left Exeter with high hopes. One day down the road, and they saw what was coming to face them. King Mordaf stopped his men, and when he estimated the opposition, he started to turn the men around and put his men behind the Exeter city walls. To be fair, the king saw the elves, gnomes, dwarfs, and ogres along with the rest of the army, and he saw the little ones as men, so his count estimate was much higher than King Ecgbert and Eanwulf or Osric of Dorset knew about.

Lodbrok the Dane complained about turning around. “So, they are more than us. It will make it a good fight, but we can take them.” He knew about the fight at Carhampton and did not think much of the Saxons on the battlefield.

Mordaf did not listen. He led everyone back to Exeter and shut the gates. By noon, they brought in the last of the families from outside the gates who came with as much food as they could carry. The West Saxons arrived around four and set their camp on the east side of the Exe River. They did not try to surround the city on that day. The six hundred Celts from the north arrived by six that evening and claimed they were being followed by twice the number of West Saxons, and the Danes abandoned them and sailed off from Pilton.

The king began to panic, but it did not become acute until Lodbrok the Dane said he had no intention of getting trapped in a city where the enemy could just starve them out.

“But you have been paid to fight,” the king objected.

“Yes, but you won’t fight,” Lodbrok shouted back. “You just want to run and hide.” He took his nine hundred Danes and left by the back gate. They made a wide arc around the west side of the river to avoid contact with the Saxons and headed back to their ships in the Exe delta. At least they got paid first, though Lodbrok decided it was not enough. He figured while the king and his army were off fighting elsewhere, he might sail to the long delta of the Tamar and see what Plymouth and Saltash might have to offer to supplement his earnings. He might even sail up the Tamar a bit. He heard there was a great monastery at Hingston Down, and they were always good for gold and silver relics.

Poor Mordaf. He had eighteen hundred men and the city could only produce another three hundred worth anything. Altogether, he figured the Saxons outnumbered him two to one. Even with the Danes they would have been outnumbered, but they might have had a chance to defend the city walls. Without the Danes, however, King Mordaf of Cornwall knew he would eventually have to surrender. He decided his only option was to abandon the city, head out across the Dartmoor, and hope the Saxons would not try to follow him through that dangerous ground. They left about midnight and the city decided to surrender as soon as the king of Wessex came up to the gate.

Pinewood immediately found Elgar out behind the tent and told him that the Cornish were sneaking away in the night. Elgar paused for a time to stare at the fairy who hovered before him. When he spoke, it was neither what he nor Pinewood expected.

“You have gone gray,” he said. “Gerraint and Festuscato hardly recognized you.”

“It is with us as you know,” Pinewood responded. “We mature in our first hundred years or so, then we age very slowly, hardly noticeable over as much as eight hundred years, until the last hundred years or so. Then we age rapidly, and gray hair is often a sign of that.”

Elgar nodded. “I will miss you when you are gone, and Deerrunner.”

Pinewood smiled and looked down. “I only hope I have served well in my time here.”

Elgar nodded. “But now you need to get big and tell Father and the king about the Celts escaping the city.”

Pinewood got big, dressed in his hunters green, and Elgar led him to the main tents. When Pinewood relayed his information to the gathered lords of Wessex, everyone was happy except the king.

“If we let Mordaf escape with his army intact, he may just rethink and try again. We have Irish and Welsh pirates and pirates from Brittany. With civil wars in Francia, our trade is severely hampered. And now, we have Danes knocking on the door of our land. All these live across the sea and so far away, there is little we can do about them. Cornwall, old Dumnonia, on the other hand, is right next door. They are one threat we can deal with, but we must deal with them while we can. I want a solid border agreed to by both sides. Then, maybe we can focus on building a fleet of ships to protect the coasts.”

“That is what the people of Kent want,” Athelwulf said. “They are building ships.”

King Ecgbert nodded to his son and turned to Godric. “I want you and your men to hold Exeter in check. The army with me will chase Mordaf to the Tamar River, or all the way to land’s end if necessary.”

“But Lord,” Godric spoke up. “Mordaf is no fool. His men know Dartmoor and know the ways through. It is dangerous ground, full of bogs and marshes and difficult to traverse. An army could get lost in there, or anyway, take a long time to get through it when you don’t know what paths are safe to take.”

King Ecgbert paused to think before he turned to Elgar’s father. “Eanric. Your land is full of swamps and the like. You have men familiar with Exmoor. Might they be able to guide us through the swamps of Dartmoor?”

Eanric thought a moment before he looked at Eanwulf. Eanwulf did not think at all as he turned the stare on Elgar. Elgar did not feel surprised and spoke right up. “Your majesty. I believe my friend may be able to help with that problem.” He pointed to Pinewood who was also not surprised.

“Majesty,” Pinewood said with a slight bow. “Exmoor is like Dartmoor in some ways, but not in some ways. Even so, you still need to know which way to go to get through the unfamiliar ground. Fortunately, I have cousins who live in Dartmoor. They say the hunting is good because not many people live there. I am sure they would be glad to guide your troops safely through the moors rather than have you stumbling around disturbing their herds and hunting grounds.”

“And will you and your family fight for your king?” King Ecgbert asked.

Pinewood glanced at Elgar before he answered. “It is not our place to choose sides between two Christian kings. It is sad that Christian men cannot sit and make peace, but I will say this. If the Danes should show up, we can call up more fighters than you might think. We will fight the heathen men. We want no Danes ruining our land.”

The king thought for a minute before he said, “Fair enough. We leave first thing in the morning. Get some rest. Godric stay, and your lieutenant…”

“Ceorle,” Eanwulf named his friend.

“Sounds Frankish,” Athelwulf said to Eanwulf.

“Maybe Frisian,” Osric of Dorset suggested.

Eanwulf could only shrug.

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

MONDAY

The army moves through Dartmoor. They surprise the Celts, and the Danes who happen to be there looking for loot. They fight. Until then, Happy Reading.

Medieval 5: Genevieve 7 Happily Ever After, part 2 of 4

February 19, 2024December 23, 2023M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“Lady,” Margo got her attention. “Edelweiss might help. She was always very good at picking out the people with evil intent a mile away.”

“The old gang back together,” Genevieve said as she, Margo, and Nelly all smiled at each other. “Edelweiss,” she called, and the fairy appeared hovering in midair and confused until she saw Margo and Nelly, and then saw Genevieve and she let out a small gasp, not that anyone heard her over the men. The officer let out another shriek over top. Gottard gasped with some volume, though he may have guessed from his youth after Genevieve told him Margo and Nelly were elves. One of the two guards screamed, loudest of all, and ran out of the room. Genevieve’s two guards that came with her and waited out front came crashing in.

“Lot of good you guys are,” Genevieve scolded her guards as she tapped her shoulder where Edelweiss came to hide in her hair.

Her two guards looked briefly at each other before one spoke. “We figured if you were hitting the officer on duty, we would rather not interfere.”

Genevieve did not pursue that line of thinking. Instead, she explained their predicament to Edelweiss, The fairy hardly had to think about it before she said, “Maybe my father or mother have seen them recently.”

Genevieve sighed and called Lord Evergreen. He did not know what they might look like, but he did know a fairy named Cherry who knew a fairy named Acacia who lived near the Lupen farm and might know what they look like. Lord Evergreen explained. “We tracked them when they came and went from your home and that way we found out where they live.”

Genevieve understood but she thought the small room was getting full. Fortunately, fairies did not take up much room. She called Cherry and Acacia, both, so they would not totally freak out. After explaining the situation, Acacia said he knew exactly what they looked like. “Can you picture them?” Genevieve asked and Acacia nodded. “Wait,” she said and went to the one window in the little room. “Sky babies come down. I need you.” she called to the clouds. It took a minute or two, but two sprites of the air, Teether and Soove, came floating up to the window.

“We are here,” said Teether.

“Ready to help,” said Soove.

Genevieve nodded and told Acacia to picture Antonio in his mind. He did, and she duplicated his thought in the minds of her cloud babies before she projected the picture on to a piece of blank velum on the officer’s desk. It came out looking like a poor photograph but clear enough. She found another piece of velum and said, “Now, Berlio.” She repeated her steps and turned to her sprites. “Spread these pictures to all the sprites of the air over Rome, please. We need these men found, and when they are found, come and tell me.”

“We will,” said Soove.

“Most certainly,” said Teether.

“Thank you Lord Acacia, Lord Cherry, Lord Evergreen. Hopefully, this will be the end of it.”

“Let us know if you need any further assistance,” Lord Evergreen said.

“Glad to help,” Lord Cherry added as Genevieve clapped her hands once and the three fairies vanished.

Edelweiss spoke up at last. “Lady, your golden hair has turned all gray.”

“And my perfect skin is getting all old and wrinkly.” Genevieve responded, and every man in the room said that was not so. She imagined that was kind of them.

The officer in the room finally found his voice again when he examined the pictures imposed on the velum in front of him. “I don’t know how you did that, but with these, my men could find the men within the week.”

“Yes,” Genevieve agreed. “But we don’t want them alerted. We want to surprise them and catch them unprepared. If they get the idea we are looking for them, they might leave the city altogether, do their planning elsewhere, and wait until they are ready to come back and start killing people.”

“People?” Gottard asked. “Who besides the Pope?”

“Charles,” Genevieve told him plainly. “Charles has always been the main target. The attack on the Pope might have been a ruse to get Charles to come here. We already stopped the dark one, Blondy, and Signore Lupen from assassination attempts. Baldy and Antonio the son are the only two left.”

Gottard nodded. “I know who you mean.”

Genevieve told them they had to wait, though the room was getting rather stuffy. While they waited, she turned to the guards, pausing to note the one who showed enough courage to stay in the room before staring down her own guards. “You boys did not appear to be surprised by anything so far. Why is that?”

The two looked at each other before the same one spoke that spoke before. “Captain Hector told us all about it and then threatened us to keep our mouths shut. He said he wanted to prepare us just in case something like this came up. I must say, though, seeing it in person is different than hearing about it.”

“Did a hundred dwarfs, ogres, and trolls tear over two hundred pirates to pieces?” The other guard asked suddenly. He sounded like an excited teenager.

“Only three ogres and a mountain troll,” Genevieve said. “And they did not get them all. Of course, the pirates that escaped begged to be taken prisoner, so you can imagine.” Suddenly, a ding went off in Genevieve’s head. She smiled, put up a finger to indicate they should wait, and turned back to the window. Teether and Soove returned, not that anyone else but Genevieve would know it was the same two as before.

“They are in an inn,” said Teether.

“An inn by the river,” said Soove.

“The sign has a fish,” said Teether.

“Maybe a dolphin,” said Soove.

“They got six men with them,” said Teether.

“Six bad men,” said Soove.

“Thank you,” Genevieve interrupted lest they go on for a while. She turned her head to the officer but Gottard spoke first.

“I know the place.”

Genevieve returned to look out the window. “Thank you Teether. Thank you Soove. It was very good of you. You have been a big help. Now you can go back to your very important business, and I will remember you. Good-bye.”

“Good-bye, so long, see you later…” They kept up the litany until they got out of ear shot.

“So we go,” Genevieve said. “Bring the men from Breisach. I want the place surrounded before we move in so none of them escape.”

“Should we fetch Captain Hector and the men?” one of her guards asked.

“No,” Genevieve said. “We have no authority in this city. We need to let the garrison here make the arrests. Your job is to assist Margo and Nelly in guarding my person.”

“What is my job?” Edelweiss asked nice and loud.

“Your job is to stay on my shoulder, not pull on my hair, and be cute.”

“I can do that.”

Medieval 5: Genevieve 5 External Attacks, part 4 of 5

February 5, 2024December 23, 2023M G Kizzia Leave a comment

One pirate ship on Otto’s side pushed to the riverbank and quickly unloaded, thinking they could break through the line of archers and join up with the two hundred and fifty marching up beside the river. The last two ships in the back of the procession, saw what was happening and began to back-stroke. The current helped them, and they soon got out of range. Margueritte let out another quiet “Damn.” Nearly half of their ships will escape, and we still have a small army of pirates on the other side of the river.”

“No, Lady,” A fairy said as she fluttered up close on butterfly wings. “Leodek the dwarf brought his whole troop of a hundred down from the Alpilles. A hundred gnomes of Camargue brought their bows. And my people are not so many, but we brought our bows as well. The pirates stopped moving and looked for cover when the arrows began to fly. They panicked when Leodek and the dwarfs charged, though I think it was mostly the three ogres and the mountain troll that really caused the panic.”

“Yes, Lady Tamarisk,” Margueritte said, knowing the fairy’s name without having to hardly think about it. Margueritte tapped her shoulder, and the fairy beamed for joy at the invitation and carefully came to sit on the shoulder, hardly tugging at all on Margueritte’s hair to get comfortable, while Margueritte moved slowly to where she could see how things went.

“Well,” Lady Tamarisk continued. “Some of the pirates got chopped to little pieces. I cannot lie about that, but I did not have to watch. Some tried for the river. Maybe they wanted to let the current take them away from the slaughter, or maybe thought to swim across the river if they could. But every one that went in the water got pulled down into the deep and never came back up. That is sad. Some ran back the way they came. I think they escaped, but I am not certain.

“And the shipload that attacked the other side?”

“They were stopped. Some surrendered. A few got close to the slaughter and decided to turn around and surrender. I guess they decided it was no good trying to surrender to a berserker dwarf or an ogre.”

“No. That would not have worked.” Margueritte took a deep breath and thought hard to Leodek, the dwarf chief, to make sure he let the men go that ran away. He protested, but only a little.

She approached the men in the three front ships and the two ships that edged up to the riverbank on her side, one being before the blockade and the other being beyond. Her four hundred surviving soldiers had nearly a hundred and fifty prisoners. She imagined Otto saved most of his hundred and fifty and maybe had fifty more prisoners. She also imagined there might be two hundred pirates and five ships where the river met the sea, and they would escape. It was a terrible toll for the pirates to lose more than half their ships and more than half their men, but you never know with pirates. All it might do is make them plan more carefully next time, and maybe not try to bite off such a big target.

“Thank you Lady Tamarisk for your information. I am sorry there are so many men around here. Maybe you should return to your troop. Please thank them all for their help and thank the gnomes too.”

“And the dwarfs?” Lady Tamarisk asked.

Margueritte sighed as she nodded. She blinked and missed the sight of the butterfly that flew from her shoulder. Her eyes were taken by the vision before her. It was Leibulf. He found her at the edge of the river. He came up, his sword drawn and dripping with blood. He looked painted with blood, and he was smiling. Margueritte could not hold back the tide. Genevieve yelled in Margueritte’s head until Margueritte relented and let Genevieve return to her own place and time, and right in front of a bunch of men. Genevieve immediately slapped Leibulf hard on his cheek and turned her yelling on him.

“Men died. Maybe bad men, but they died. I don’t ever want to see you smiling about killing. Not ever. You owe God an apology. And you owe your father an apology as well. You did your duty. Good for you. But you were not supposed to even be in the fighting.” Genevieve found some tears, and no one disturbed her in her grief. Leibulf gave her a quick hug and wisely went to find his father.

Genevieve sat right there on the ground overlooking the river and thought of nothing. She decided her armor felt really comfortable, even when she was in her eighth month. She might wear it more often, but then she might just get some fairy weave that she could make to look like a dress. Fairy weave had the remarkable ability to stretch to fit and be comfortable no matter how big she got, not that she could exactly be comfortable in her eighth and ninth months, regardless. She remembered from last time.

She had to get a passing soldier to help her up when she saw someone she recognized. It was not who she expected, but it was also no surprise. She followed behind the man who walked trapped between two guardsmen, a lieutenant of sorts leading the way.

They stopped short of Otto, who was presently instructing the men in the cleanup of one ship stuck on the riverbank. Genevieve thought of converting the pirate ships to merchant vessels, but they would have to be pulled up into dry dock and given a good look. Some appeared hardly better than salvage.

The prisoner who stood between two soldiers looked around when Otto turned to them to listen. The lieutenant spoke.

“This man claims to be friends with your wife, from Breisach. He claims to be a poor merchant whose ship got caught up in what he thought was a trading expedition. He swears he did not know they were pirates. He says they killed most of his crew and replaced them with wicked men. He says the only reason they kept him alive was because he knew his own ship and could navigate.”

“Please. You have got to believe me…” the man begged, and Genevieve remembered the grating voice as she recognized the man. He was older, perhaps older than Otto, but not so changed that she would not know him.

“Liar,” she shouted.

The man spun around and shouted her name. “Genevieve!”

“Signore Lupen.” She named the man. “You have been a liar from the beginning.”

“No. You know I am quick to take advantage of the chance to make money, but legitimate money. I did not know these men were pirates. I swear.”

“Liar,” Genevieve repeated herself. “Is Antonio with you, and Baldy, what’s-his-name.”

“Berlio? No, they are home, looking at other venues.”

“Charles is not here,” she said abruptly. He tried not to grin, but it was enough to convict in Genevieve’s mind.

Mister Lupen looked down at the ground and muttered very softly, “Mercy.” The guards loosened their grip and he sipped a knife from his sleeve. The guards were not that lax, however. He did not get far, and one of the men in the crowd that gathered to watch hit the man on the back of the head with the pommel of his long knife. Mister Lupen’s knife fell to the ground.

“God may have mercy on you,” Genevieve said. “But down here, you are a danger to yourself and others, too dangerous to let live.” She frowned. “At the risk of sounding like the Queen of Hearts, off with his head.”

The lieutenant looked at Otto, but Otto did not hesitate. “You heard my wife. He may be the first, but he won’t be the last of these pirates to lose his head.”

The guards gripped Mister Lupen tightly by his arms. He was not going anywhere except to the chopping block, and he knew it, but he had one more thing to say.

“Charles is not the only target.”

Genevieve was not surprised by that revelation. She gave Otto a quick kiss when she turned her back on the man and the soldiers dragged him off. Otto looked dirty, but not splattered with blood like Leibulf. “I may lie down for a bit,” she said. Let me know if anything exciting happens.

Medieval 5: Genevieve 4 Troubles Averted, part 1 of 3

January 22, 2024December 17, 2023M G Kizzia Leave a comment

It took two more weeks for Charles and Bernard to so-called figure it out. Obviously, Genevieve had to marry, and the sooner the better, but the pregnant Countess of Breisach could not be married to just anyone. Bernard came up with the solution. Otto, the Margrave of Provence was in his late forties. He had an eight-year-old son, Leibulf, whose mother died in childbirth, and Otto had been a widower since that time. It was not ideal but Bernard said Otto was a very nice man and would never treat her badly.

Bernard fought alongside Otto in the old days under King Pepin the Short. He called Otto a brave and noble gentleman, like Genevieve’s father. Back when Charles’ grandfather drove the Muslims out of Provence, he made the province a March to watch the Muslims in Septimania, and piracy on the coast, and to watch the Lombards in the east. Otto’s father was the first Marquise, or Margrave in the German tongue.

Otto served faithfully for years and was in on the fight when they finally drove the Muslims out of Narbonne. Now, he apparently raised a little army all on his own and was anxious to go after the Lombards. “The problem is he was wounded on the battlefield and needs a cane to walk,” Bernard concluded.

“He will be no good to us in Lombardy,” Charles said. “Nor would I take a cripple into battle. I’ll take his army, but he needs to stay home.”

“It will help everyone if you keep him home during the fighting,” Bernard said. “I will come to gather the men who are presently in Aquae. They can move up to Geneva and meet us in Lausanne where the Burgundians will gather, and we will see what Aquitaine sends. Then we will move into Italy through the Great Saint Bernard pass.”

“We will see what Burgundy raises,” Charles said as an aside.

“Charles will take the main Frankish army through the pass of Monte Ceneri and we will see what Desiderius comes up with.”

“You’re leaving me in Lausanne?”

“Geneva.”

“You’re leaving me in Geneva?” Genevieve whined.

“Not abandoning you. You and Otto will have full escorts all of the way down river to Arles and then across the coast to Aquae. You will be fine.”

Genevieve squinted at Charles. “The pass of Great Saint Bernard?”

Charles grinned. “Fitting, don’t you think?”

“Ha, ha,” Genevieve said without laughing.

“Charles insisted,” Bernard said with a look of resignation in his eyes. He changed the subject. “Otto will be good to you. He knows about the baby and has pledged to raise your child as his own. He is agreeable on all points, and besides, he says his boy, Leibulf, needs a mother’s influence,” Bernard finished and they waited for her response. It was not what they expected.

“I always wanted to have a baby brother. Mine died when he was two.”

“So, is that a yes?” Charles needed to know.

Genevieve paused but did not let the tension play out too long. “If Otto is all that you say he is, then yes. But if he mistreats me or my baby, you will get a knock on the door.” Genevieve understood that she really had no other choices.

“Of course,” Bernard mumbled. “Of course.”

First thing after that they got everyone moving to Basel. Genevieve got introduced to the people in Basel as the Countess of Breisach. The people, basically strangers, deferred to her and she got some slight bows and curtseys. Genevieve was used to the people back home where she grew up and all the people knew her. Back home they liked her well enough, but this was different. This was a heady experience, but she understood it was mostly Charles or Bernard that got the special attention. No telling what they said behind her back, Charles being married and all. No doubt some of the words were not so nice.

Charles and Genevieve tried to be as discrete as they could. It was easy when Charles got busy building his army. New men came into town every day in April, and as the month progressed, Charles got more and more busy. Genevieve had to content herself with Margo and Nelly for companions, and Edelweiss when she was around. Edelweiss got excited because she found her flower.

“I thought they did not bloom until May, or later, like July,” Genevieve said.

“Apparently, they bloom when Edelweiss tells them to bloom,” Margo responded, and Nelly shrugged.

When Otto and a small contingent of men arrived, his eight-year-old son Leibulf in tow, Genevieve thought she was prepared. She was not. She felt awkward and withdrawn. She hardly knew what to say to the man and tended to look down at her boots. At least she got her own boots.

Otto said, “Bernard, you did not do justice in your description. She is lovely, beautiful, very fetching, I must say. What do you think, Captain?” Otto asked his Captain, Hector.

“Very nice, but rather shy and quiet.” Charles and Bernard laughed until Charles got tears in his eyes and Genevieve bumped him with her elbow.

Genevieve and Otto got to know each other, though they avoided talk about the baby. Genevieve did open up after a short while and found the man was as nice as reported. She decided that being married to the man would not be a terrible thing, and she got along well with Leibulf, the son, almost from the beginning. Of course, he was eight going on sixteen so he was not about to do what Genevieve told him, but she expected nothing else. She indeed saw him as the younger brother she was not allowed to have and only hoped she would not tease him too badly when he started showing interest in girls.

“Lady, lady,” Edelweiss came flying into Genevieve’s room when she was packing to move into the church rooms before the wedding. “Lady.” The fairy was excited and Genevieve knew enough not to interrupt before Edelweiss told her news lest she distract the little one and make Edelweiss forget why she came. “I saw Blondy. I saw Blondy.”

“Where?” Margo asked, pulling her head out from the wardrobe.

“When?’ Nelly asked from the floor in the midst of pairing up Genevieve’s socks.

“What was he wearing?” Genevieve asked last.

Edelweiss let out a little shriek, like her little brain could not answer all those questions at once. She chose to answer Genevieve. “He was dressed like a soldier.”

“When did you see him?”

“Just now. I came straight here.”

“Where did you see him?”

“In town. In front of town hall and the church,” Edelweiss said and took a deep breath, pleased that she remembered and got it out before it flitted from her thoughts.

Margo added a question. “What was he doing?”

“Just sitting there.” Edelweiss flew up to Margo’s face. “He was not doing anything.”

“Genevieve?” Nelly called, but Genevieve was already leaving the room. Her face looked determined. Her steps were deliberate. The others followed.

Edelweiss sat on Genevieve’s shoulder as she marched into town. Like elves who could wear a glamour to appear human, fairies also had ways of being around humans without getting big and looking inhumanly beautiful, which might attract the wrong kind of attention. Most often, people see fairies as birds of some sort so people mostly ignore them. They often appear in the corners of the eye, like some movement in the peripheral vision that vanishes when looked at directly. When people do look directly at them, they naturally projected a kind of perception filter which makes them appear like a spot of light or shadow, or something not quite clear. Even when people concentrate on them, they can be difficult to bring into focus. They often present multiple unclear images where the eyes have to dart around the small area in front of the eyes to see anything at all, and even when they see, it is a faded, unclear picture, like someone moving around behind a translucent veil, unless the fairy wants or is willing to be seen. Of course, the people who get to know the fairy can see the fairy perfectly well. Magic can also pierce the veil, and that was what happened with Blondy.

Genevieve arrived at the town hall at the same time Charles rode up with a small troop of soldiers, mostly captains of some sort come for a meeting. Blondy stood, which got Genevieve’s attention. He had two throwing knives in his hands. Edelweiss chose that moment to squirt from Genevieve’s hair and shout.

“There he is.”

One knife headed toward Charles, but the other headed toward Genevieve, though the fairy got in the way. Genevieve reacted like it was an attack on her fairy. Something like lightning poured from her hands. The throwing knife got knocked to the ground. People got shoved back and out of the way. The electrical charge went straight at Blondy. He may have tried to put up a magical shield, but that would have been like a single grain of sand trying to hold back the ocean. Genevieve was not presently an ordinary young woman, but goddess of the little ones and filled with the power of creation itself.

Charles ducked. The knife cut him in the upper arm, but it was no more than a scrape as it essentially missed. Edelweiss threw her hands up to her face so she would not have to watch. Genevieve let out a shout of surprise. The lightning stopped instantly and she threw her hands up to cover her mouth. Blondy was reduced to a smoking cider of what used to be a man.

“Let me,” Genevieve heard the words in her head. Amphitrite, or Salacia as the Romans called her, asked to take a look. It only took a moment. Amphitrite appeared in Genevieve’s place for one quick moment to look. Genevieve came back to her own time and place well before Charles approached her.

“Interesting, whatever you did,” Charles said with a sly smile, pointing at the smoking flesh that used to be Blondy.

“That wasn’t me,” Genevieve said quickly. “I mean it was me, but it was that part of me that watches over the little ones.”

“Your Kairos.”

“Yes,” she said and raised her voice a bit. “He attacked my fairy.”

Charles looked around, but Edelweiss had rushed to Nelly’s shoulder and presently hid in Nelly’s long dark hair. “Good thing that little one and I are friends.”

“Oh, you have nothing to worry about.” she put one hand on his chest to draw on his strength. She killed a man and needed the strength to hold back her tears. She did the deed whether she admitted it or not. She wanted to cry about it, but instead, picked up the throwing knife from the ground. “You are hurt?” They both looked at Charles’ shoulder. Charles had to twist his arm and head a bit to see.

“Only a scratch,” he said. “But say, how would you like to do that on the battlefield?”

“No, that would not work on the battlefield. Little ones in battle face the same chance as any other soldiers. Sometimes they die and I am not allowed to change that. Meanwhile, I checked if you are interested.”

“You mean that other woman in your place? I blinked and almost missed her.”

Genevieve nodded. “Amphitrite,” she called her, thinking Salacia was a name that might be recognized in that post-Roman province. “Mister Lupen, Antonio, and Baldy are still in Lombardy and have no immediate plans to come this way.”

“Good to know,” he said as he pecked at her lips and went to check on his men. Genevieve turned and walked slowly back to her rooms where she finally let herself cry and finished packing.

Medieval 5: Genevieve 3 Troubles Ever After, part 2 of 3

January 16, 2024December 17, 2023M G Kizzia Leave a comment

The rest of the week was wonderful, the nightmare all but forgotten, but after that week, Charles got busy. It would be some time before things got hectic, but he had more than enough duties to keep him occupied. Genevieve moved out of the room and Charles temporarily panicked.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m just moving down the hall. I can’t exactly go home. Margo and Nelly collected my few pitiful things from the house. They told Mother Ingrid they were contracted as maids for the countess. I bet that made Mother Ingrid steaming mad. Meanwhile, Matthild and Otl have agreed to continue to take care of Mother Ingrid and the girls, at least for the time being. Matthild basically just cooks and Otl hammers a lot on the barn, the stables, and the house, and takes care of the grounds, but all outside. Otherwise, it looks like Gisela and Ursula are going to have to do a little work, like cleaning and laundry. It won’t hurt them. They might lose a few pounds. I am sure Mother Ingrid would not want to pay what it would actually cost for some real help around the house. But for me, seriously, I don’t know where I can go. I can’t go home…”

Charles coughed, and Genevieve learned when he coughed in that way he meant for her to take a breath. She looked up at him. “You are moving down the hall?”

She nodded. “The other side of Uncle Bernard’s room,” she said and started up again. “You are going to need your rest, and let’s be honest, neither of us has gotten much rest in this past week. But don’t worry. I will be there for you for as long as you want me or need me to be. I mean, I can’t exactly marry you. You have a wife. You love your wife?” She asked that before and he nodded like before.

“She wiggles.”

“I don’t need the details. You know, love is more than just sex. As long as you love your wife, I am sure you will be happy. I hope you have lots of lovely children together.” Her voice trailed off when someone came to the open door. It was Uncle Bernard.

“Ready?” Bernard said in a cheerful voice that made Genevieve privately frown.

Edelweiss came shooting in the doorway, right by Bernard, and came to hover over the bed. “Did you tell him?” She was excited about something.

“No. Not yet.” Genevieve paused and gave the fairy a sour look. Of course, by then Bernard and the generals knew all about the fairy. It was a kindness to Edelweiss to let her get little and not have to remain in her big size for long periods of time, something that is hard for a little fairy to do. They also got to meet Edelweiss’ father, Lord Evergreen, who promised to scout ahead when Charles got the army gathered and moved toward Italy. Margo and Nelly were still seen as young women, more like Genevieve’s maids than just friends. but elves had less trouble appearing human. They could affect a simple glamour and walk through the marketplace without notice, or without undue attention. The young men might notice. Elf maids were notoriously pretty. However, they were not fairy beautiful, which was a kind of unearthly beauty that was hard for some humans to take in, much less describe.

“Ready,” Genevieve said in a sour voice to match the look on her face.

“What?” Bernard asked.

“What is it?” Charles echoed.

Genevieve picked up her little bag, hardly an oversized purse and put it on her shoulder. She grumped, “I’m pregnant.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“How do you know?” Charles asked.

“I thought it took a month or two months to determine that,” Bernard said.

“Lady is going to have a baby,” Edelweiss said and fluttered down to put her little hands just beyond Genevieve’s middle. “Can’t tell boy or girl yet. It is too early for that, but I can feel the growing.” Edelweiss flew up to face Charles. “You are going to have a baby.”

Charles shouted for joy and jumped up and down. He started to sing but stopped quickly when both Genevieve and Bernard gave him a sour look. Edelweiss wrinkled her whole face, but then she smiled, being caught up in the emotion of it all.

Genevieve stomped to the door, handed her purse to Bernard, told Edelweiss to visit with Uncle Bernard for a minute and said to Charles, “Get in here, you moron.” Charles stopped jumping and came sheepishly into the room while Genevieve slammed the door and yelled. “What is wrong with you?”

“What?” Charles stood up tall and straight. “I thought you wanted a baby,” he yelled back.

“I did. I do. But you are married and I am not. I expected to get married.”

“What? You did not want to have my baby?”

“That is not it. I am glad the baby is yours, but a bastard son or daughter is not a good thing. What are you going to tell your wife? You were busy having a baby so I went off to find a little tart to get pregnant?”

“I don’t think of you that way. You should not think of yourself that way.”

“I should ask Father Flaubert to give me a whipping.”

“The nice old priest would not do it.”

“But Charles.” Genevieve began to cry softly. “What am I going to do? I can’t go home. I have no husband. Your poor baby and I will be living on the street, begging.” She ran at Charles, grabbed him around the middle, and as she hugged him, she wept into his chest.

“Hush,” he said. “It will be all right,” he said. “We will figure it out. you’ll see. Hush.”

~~~*~~~

One week later, Charles made some time and took Genevieve for a quiet walk along the riverbank. She pointed out all the birds and flowers and said how nice the river had been that year.

“Nary a flood to speak of.”

Charles nodded for most of it, but when he spoke it was on a different subject. “I’m still thinking about your future,” he said. “Not just anyone will do, and I say that for you, not just for the baby.”

“Sir Heffen of Strasbourg asked for my hand,” she said, trying to be helpful. “He is still single as far as I know.”

“No,” he said as they came to a spot and sat where they could watch the lazy water flow by. “You need to marry someone with a higher station than a mere knight.”

“My father was a knight before your father gave him the county to defend.”

“Besides, Heffen may have been one of those in on the negotiations between the Lombards and my brother in Burgundy.”

“Well,” she said. “How about the Baron of Stuttgart? He once spoke to Mother Ingrid concerning his son. The boy is my age, or maybe sixteen, but Mother Ingrid said the eldest should marry first, but he had no interest in Ursula.”

“No, no.” Charles said. “A young man would know soon enough the baby is not his and he might put you away, or worse. No, the right one is out there. We just need to find him.”

“Hopefully before our baby is old enough to be knighted himself,” she said, and he laughed.

They kissed but got interrupted by a war cry. A man charged up the riverbank, a battleax held firmly in his hands. He did not reach the couple. The assassin fell only a few yards away. His battleax slipped from his hands but went wide, struck the ground, and slid a short way toward the river. The man had three arrows in him. Margo and Nelly came running up, bows in their hands. The third arrow came from Lord Evergreen who kindly took on the human appearance of a hunter dressed in hunter green. Charles and Genevieve were on their feet.

“My lord,” Evergreen offered a small bow to Charles and turned to Genevieve. “My lady. We have been watching. You might not know. To the contrary of his normal routine, Mister Lupen left after three days and is now half-way down the Swiss plateau, well out of reach, but only two workmen went with him and his son. This third one stayed presumably to watch their goods and with the idea that Mister Lupen would return in a month with additional goods for sale.”

“You did not trust that explanation,” Charles concluded and Lord Evergreen nodded.

Genevieve went to look. It was not a pretty sight, but she identified the man as the dark one. She added a thought, “Baldy and Blondy are still out there.”

“Maybe Mister Lupen will not dare to come back here,” Nelly suggested, and Margo looked hopeful, but Genevieve shot down that idea.

“He can always say Darky volunteered to stay. He can claim his family does not involve themselves in politics and he had no idea Darky was such a partisan. He can say if he had known, he never would have left Darky here to watch his things, and it was terrible what the man tried to do. For shame.”

“Not that we would believe him,” Charles said.

“But you would have no proof otherwise,” she finished, and took Charles’ arm for the walk back to town.

Medieval 5: Genevieve 3 Troubles Ever After, part 1 of 3

January 15, 2024December 9, 2023M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Genevieve and Charles spent the next week mostly in a bubble. In some ways, they were like a honeymoon couple. They did not have much room for others. The guilty feelings did not honestly catch up to her until about the fourth day. Charles was married. She was a fornicator and adulterer. She did not want to think that way, but she could not help it. She felt condemned.

She turned on her side that night and put her back to Charles. It was an exceptionally gloomy night. The clouds completely blotted out the moon and stars so only the darkness remained. The shadows put up by the dying embers of the fire appeared to dance wickedly in the dark. Genevieve closed her eyes and soon fell asleep, but with sleep, the nightmares came.

Genevieve remembered Lydia’s life in her dreams, a lifetime she never knew she had. She remembered Lydia being kidnapped and taken to a brothel where she was beaten and drugged until she could not even remember her own name. The darkness came then—the demons. They entered Lydia and filled her, and her mouth began to prophecy. Time itself filled her and came out of her. Men paid gold. She could not stop her mouth. The demons would not let her.

Genevieve felt something touch her middle. Something got twisted in her belly and she woke up with a scream on her lips. Charles stoked the fire in the fireplace, and the darkness receded with the light. She cried and held on to Charles that night, though she did not get much more sleep. In the morning, she could not explain her nightmare. She forgot all about Lydia as that memory sank into her subconscious. All she could say was it felt wicked—the ultimate evil. Genevieve prayed in the daylight, asking God for forgiveness and grace. She took Charles to see Father Flaubert who was anxious to show him the will and about Genevieve’s inheritance. Genevieve simply knelt by the altar the whole time and prayed some more.

That afternoon, Edelweiss caught Genevieve alone for a moment. The fairy took one look at her lady and spouted. “Lady! You are going to have a baby!”

“What? No,” Genevieve responded. “I can’t do that to Charles. He is married. He has a new wife who just had a baby, their first. According to the Storyteller, they are supposed to have lots of children. Me getting pregnant right now might ruin everything. I mean, I want a baby—wanted a baby—one that can inherit the county after I am gone. Oh! Passive-aggressive can backfire. It makes everything so complicated, and it can ruin everything. Don’t tell.” she paused to give Edelweiss her most serious expression. “Don’t tell anyone, not even Margo or Nelly. And don’t tell any human mortals. Especially don’t tell Charles. Oh! That was stupid and selfish. I may have ruined everything. I need to think. I have to think about this…”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Edelweiss promised, but Genevieve knew the fairy would tell Margo and Nelly at the first opportunity. She could only hope the three of them would keep it among themselves for a few days.

The next day, being the fifth morning of the week, Genevieve went down to breakfast and had a terrible surprise. Mister Lupen, Antonio, and their three ugly workmen were sitting around a table, having breakfast. Uncle Bernard sat at the far end of the room at another table looking over some papers.

“Bernard,” Charles got the man’s attention. “We have strangers in our sanctuary.”

“Yes,” Bernard said. “They are merchants of some sort. They came down the Rhine last night, or early this morning. They came straight here saying they always break their fast in this place before moving up to the house for the month. They are friends of your mother’s?” He asked Genevieve.

“I suppose they are,” she said, sneaking a look. She sat where her back would be toward the other table in case they did not notice. She hoped they would not recognize her now that Bernard and Charles took her shopping and bought her all sorts of new clothes.

Bernard nodded. “Since most everyone is on the road to or from Basel, or off on other errands, or still sleeping…” He underlined that last for the couple. “I felt it would not hurt to let the men have their breakfast. Beltram confirmed their story.”

“You know they are Lombards,” Genevieve said quietly. Both men looked at the other table. Genevieve put her hands softly but firmly on the table to regain their attention. “I am not saying they are spies or any such thing, but you know merchants have sometimes been paid for information they may have gathered while visiting enemy territory.”

“I am sure Desiderius would love to know our proposed route into Lombardy,” Charles said, looking down at the map on the table with lines drawn and certain mountain passes marked in red. Bernard covered the map with both arms before he had a second thought and turned it completely over. He grinned for the couple, both of whom grinned back at him. His action, however, proved well timed as Signore—Mister Lupen and his group got up to leave. Mister Lupen stopped at the table and looked straight at Genevieve, so her meagre attempt to hide amounted to nothing. Antonio hovered over his father’s shoulder as the man spoke.

“We came in early enough yesterday so while the men worked, I made a quick trip to the manor house. Your mother said if I saw you, you need to come home right now. You have work to do and are falling behind. The work is not going to do itself.” Antonio snickered.

Genevieve put on her calm-the-distraught-child voice, a voice she learned very well from Mother Ingrid. “Tell Mother Ingrid that the Frankish hierarchy has me involved in a very important mission and I can’t possibly come home before it is accomplished.” She smiled her lovely I-am-just-an-innocent-girl smile.

Antonio turned serious but his father almost laughed. “I will convey your message,” he said, and they left.

Charles immediately turned to Genevieve. “An important mission?”

“You are important,” she said, and her smile immediately returned to a genuine smile of happiness. “Besides, I know you are going to attack the Lombards, but I know none of the important details. I figure if Mister Lupen and his crew want to try and gather some information they can sell to the Lombards, I would rather act as a decoy. They won’t get any information out of me, unless you want to give me some false information that I can feed to them.”

She let that thought hang in the air for a moment while the two men looked at each other, but in the end they both shook their heads, and Charles said, “Too dangerous.”

“But you know those men by a glance, so if you see them hanging around, you should tell us.”

Medieval 5: Genevieve 2 Prince Charming, part 3 of 4

January 9, 2024December 9, 2023M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Charles paused briefly before he stepped up beside her. “I see no reason why a couple of soldiers might not escort a fine young woman to town and back. I mean, now that the horses are cared for.”

Genevieve glanced back once at the two men following, one old and one young, before she looked up at Charles who kept grinning at her. “You are their captain?” she asked and Charles nodded. “A bit young for a captain,” she concluded and started walking before her feet froze in that spot.

“I’ll be twenty-eight in a week—maybe a month or so,” he said defensively. “How old do you think a captain should be?”

Genevieve shrugged. “I will be eighteen in a month or so. Ursula is already eighteen. Gisela won’t be sixteen until the fall. We are not married, though. Mother Ingrid keeps talking about making an advantageous marriage.” Genevieve shrugged again.

“Your sisters? Mother Ingrid?”

“Stepsisters. Mother Ingrid is my stepmother.”

“You are not a servant in the house?”

Genevieve shook her head this time. “Father Flaubert explained it all to me just three Sundays ago after Mass. Mother Ingrid and my sisters went into the market while Father Flaubert pulled me aside. He has a copy of the papers in the church, and he showed me. Father left everything to me, the land, the house, and all. That technically make me the countess, though Mother Ingrid uses the title, even if it is not hers to use. You see, my mother died when I was four, and father remarried before he went off to fight for King Pepin and got himself killed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Long time ago.” Genevieve returned Charles’ smile.

“So, why are you fetching the eggs?” Charles asked, honestly enough.

“I like to eat?” she tried, but Charles shook his head in a definite no.

“It is a long story,” Genevieve said. He indicated that he would listen, a good sign in Genevieve’s book since she liked to talk. She began with the phrase, “Stop me if you heard this one…” and proceeded to tell the whole Cinderella story, including the part about the fairy godmother, the ball, and the slipper. She ended with, “Of course, I don’t expect Prince Charming to show up any time soon, so I get to be servant for a while longer, anyway.”

“That is not right,” Charles drew his own conclusion. “I would not blame you if you threw the woman and her daughters out and took back your home.” Genevieve shook her head, so Charles asked, “What?”

Genevieve looked down. They had reached the town and stopped walking so it was easy to watch her slippers shuffle in the dirt. She had to shuffle them to keep her toes from freezing. “First of all, I’m not grown up yet. I’m old enough to marry and have children, but not exactly what you would call full grown. Father’s will says I get the house and property when I am eighteen, and the outlying farms and serfs and the rest of the county when I am twenty-one. I am sure he imagined I would be married by then, and Mother Ingrid’s daughters would also be married. Secondly, Mother Ingrid has sold everything she can and spent all the money on frivolous things for Ursula and Gisela, so there is not much to inherit. And third,” she looked up at Charles. “I could not do that to them. That would be cruel. They have nowhere else to go.”

Charles smiled. “I can see your heart is as beautiful as your face and form.”

Genevieve’s face turned a little red, easy to see beneath her blonde locks. “I can see your tongue is as glib as you are tall,” she responded.

Charles coughed and put on a more serious face. “So, there is one part of your story I do not understand. The fairy godmother part. The way you tell the story makes it sound like one of those fantasy stories they tell little children. I was never a big fan of those stories, even when I was a little child. I believe there are enough miraculous things on God’s green earth, things we hardly understand. We don’t have to go making up more things like fairies and elves and such.”

“A realist,” Genevieve called him. She gave him a knowing look, so once again he asked.

“What?”

“Would you like to meet my fairy godmother, well, my fairy friend?” Her smile turned to a big grin. “Are you brave enough to let your whole view of the world be shaken?” He looked at her, not sure what to say, and she called, “Edelweiss.”

A young woman stepped out from behind a building. She was fairy beautiful but she did not appear at all fairy-like.

“Fairy?” Charles said in his skeptical best.

Genevieve ignored the young man. “Edelweiss. Would you visit my shoulder please.”

“Lady. Is that wise?” Edelweiss asked. She looked around the area near enough to the market where plenty of people were coming and going.

“It is safe,” Genevieve responded. “This is Charles. He’s a friend.” She looked up. “You are a friend.” She made the question into a statement.

“I hope to be a very good friend,” he said.

Genevieve secretly smiled, but tapped her shoulder and said, “Come, come.” Edelweiss needed no more encouragement. She took her fairy form, and wings fluttering flew to Genevieve’s shoulder and took a seat where she could at least hide in Genevieve’s hair.

Charles shrieked, as Genevieve spoke.

“As a future friend of mine once said, there are more things in heaven and on earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Genevieve took Charles’ hand and his smile returned. “And just to be clear,” she said. “Margo and Nelly. They must be around here somewhere. I met them about eighteen months—almost two years ago when I was at a very low point and feeling very sorry for myself. I’m not like that, normally. I am usually very upbeat and positive. Only sometimes, I find my life circumstances rather depressing. Margo. Nelly.” She called.

“I don’t blame you, given your circumstances,” Charles said, as he looked down at her hand in his.

“Here we are,” two more young women shouted and came running.

“Lady. You have company,” Nelly said.

“We weren’t sure if it was safe to show ourselves,” Margo added.

“They are elves,” she said frankly to Charles. She lifted her free hand so he could see them without their glamours of humanity. She lowered it again while Edelweiss hung on by pulling gently on her hair. “Just to be clear,” she added with a grin, glad that he did not shriek that time.

“I see you have some interesting friends,” Charles said and looked up. It had begun to drizzle. “I’ll have to ask you more about that, later. Right now, we need to get under shelter. I also need to find an inn where we can house Bernard and the others. I assume your home might not be the best accommodations.”

“I know just the place,” Genevieve said, and did not hesitate to drag him half-way across town. They got inside just before the rain started in earnest. Genevieve had to let go of Charles to shake out her shawl. Edelweiss had to get down and get big. She did so behind Margo and Nelly so as to be hidden. Genevieve raised her voice. “Beltram.”

“You are good at calling for others I see.”

“My captain. You know asking quietly gets you nowhere. Beltram! Oh, there you are.” The man came sleepily from the back room.

“Ah, lovely Genevieve. Always a pleasure. How can I help you?” the man said, as his wife came up behind him to peek around his shoulder.

“I have a captain here who wants to rent your entire inn. All ten rooms.” she turned to Charles. “You do want the whole thing, yes?” Charles paused and looked up like he was counting before he nodded. “The whole inn,” she repeated. “And I want a good price. I don’t want you to gouge my friends.”

“For how long?” Beltram began to wake up.

Genevieve paused to look up at Charles. “For how long?”

“Month,” Charles said. “First of April we need to move to Basel and first of May, or at least sometime in May we move into Italy.”

“March,” Genevieve said with a bit of a smile. “I am sure you can accommodate them for the whole month.” She pulled out two silver coins that Bernard gave her and told Charles. “Bernard slipped me some extra for the eggs and other things Mother Ingrid wanted.” She grasped them and returned to face Beltram. “So, can you get everything ready by morning. They are presently at the manor house, but I doubt they will come down here in the rain before morning.” Genevieve and some of the others looked out the window in the main room.

“Ruppert,” Beltram’s wife, Liesel called. It started to come down hard and Beltram’s young son had to go out to close the shutters.

Medieval 5: Genevieve 1 Cinderella, part 2 of 2

January 2, 2024December 9, 2023M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Signore Lupen first came when Genevieve turned nine. He came when she was eleven, and again when she was thirteen. Each time, he stayed during the month of May and each time Genevieve’s position in the house grew more and more difficult. On the last visit, when she turned fifteen, she was the only servant left in the house. She had to cook and clean and got very little sleep and little to eat that month because their visitors came early that year, in April, the slim month, and Genevieve feared they might stay through June. She imagined she would not survive that long. They would work her to death. It was bad enough when they left around the third of May. She was so exhausted she hardly knew what she was doing.

Genevieve escaped the house and ran through the meadow at the back of the hill. She went into the little woods at the bottom to hide from whatever eyes might peer down from the house above. She found a clearing there and collapsed to the ground on top of all the old leaves and pine needles, and she wept, bitterly, being unable to do anything else.

Edelweiss, the fairy found her first. “Why are you crying?”

“Oh, Edelweiss.” It was all Genevieve could get out at first.

The fairy came close, a curious expression on her little face. “You know my name?”

Genevieve tried to sit up and wipe her eyes, but the tears would not stop that easily. She just nodded before she heard two more voices in the woods.

“Little one.”

“What did you find?”

The fairy flew up to face the two young elf maids that came to the edge of the clearing. “The young lady Genevieve,” Edelweiss said. “She won’t stop crying.”

“Margota and Nellinis.” Genevieve called to the two elf maids and waved them to join her but could not say anything more just yet.

“She knows us?” Margota wondered.

“We know you. How do you know us?” Nellinis asked.

The elf maids came close and sat near her. They found a few empathetic tears though they did not know what they were crying about, and Genevieve’s tears were mostly from exhaustion in any case. Soon enough, Genevieve took a deep breath and settled herself to talk.

“It is Signore Lupen and his son, especially the son, Antonio,” she said.

“Mister Lupen,” Nellinis responded with a frown. Genevieve looked up as she explained. “He is no more a knight than I am.”

Margota said, “He is from Lombard lands. Up here, the Franks and Germanic people have no way of checking. He can claim whatever he wants.”

Nellinis added, “I am sure with a title he expects better treatment than he would get as plain old Mister Lupen the merchant.”

Genevieve shook her head, but she was not surprised. “Anyway,” she said. “I feel there is something wrong with him, and his son, especially the son. His three hired men, the dark one, Blondy and Baldy might just be mean and ugly, it is hard to say, but Signore Lupen—Mister Lupen… There is some seriously wrong there.”

“The dark one?” Edelweiss asked as she settled on Margota’s shoulder to participate.

“Dark hair and dark eyes, never a smile, and always standing in the shadows,” Genevieve described the man. “They have names, but I know them as Darky, Blondy, and Baldy.”

“Good names,” Nellinis decided.

“Anyway,” Genevieve said again. “There is something twisted, something wicked about the Lupens, father and son, only I can’t put my finger on what that is.”

The elf maids nodded, and Edelweiss probably did as well, but she was small, covered by Margota’s hair, and hard to see, so she spoke instead. “My mother told me when they come I need to keep an eye on you to make sure you stay safe.”

“Your Mother Heartsease,” Genevieve said.

“That’s the one,” Edelweiss agreed. “My mother is from the mountains and gave me my name, Edelweiss. Sadly, there are no edelweiss flowers around here, but my father agreed with the name.”

“Your Father Evergreen,” Genevieve said.

“That’s the one,” Edelweiss agreed. “He said your mother died mysteriously and your father married a lady he hardly knew, and then he died. Father worried about you, but he never said why.”

“And you two? Margota and Nellinis—Margo and Nelly. Why are you here?”

Margo and Nelly looked at each other, and Margo confessed. “Lord Alpine had the same feeling as Lord Evergreen. He said there was something special about you, a good kind of special, and given the way your mother and father got killed under questionable circumstances, he said you needed to be watched.”

Nelly added, “We’ve been coming here regularly since you turned six and that Lady moved into the house, and especially when Mister Lupen came here.”

“You feel it too.” Genevieve plainly said it and did not ask it as a question. Nelly and Margo both nodded, and probably Edelweiss as well, but it was hard to see.

“It is difficult getting close to the house when Mister Lupen and his son are here. It feels like the very air around the home is dark and wicked,” Margo explained.

Genevieve agreed, but then they dropped that subject and spent the next hour sharing as all young women do, and becoming friends, as all young women should. After that, Genevieve shared that Wednesday was shopping day, though they all knew that already. After lunch, Mother Ingrid always took Ursula and Gisela to town to look at all the pretty things. Margo, Nelly, and Edelweiss agreed to come to the house Wednesday afternoon and help Genevieve with her work and be her friends. And when they could, they would meet her on the way to town when she got sent on various errands. Genevieve cried again, but just a little, and this time they were happy tears knowing she would not be alone forever.

A Holiday Journey 8

November 21, 2023October 15, 2023M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“So how can I help you?” the priest asked.

Chris wiped his eyes. “My little girl. She has disappeared, and I fear the worst may have happened to her.”

“Your daughter?”

“My niece. But I have full custody and full responsibility for her. My brother died in the war, overseas, and her mother is also presumed dead. I promised to watch over her and take care of her, and I failed her. We are the only family either of us has.”

“Your niece,” the priest voice sounded curious, but intended to comfort Chris.

“You may know her,” Chris just realized. “When I used to work on Sundays, Missus Minelli, my neighbor, used to bring her here to church.”

The priest had to think for a minute before he came out with it. “Lilly.”

Chris nodded. “I’m the Christopher you may have heard about.”

“Uncle Chris,” the priest nodded, and smiled, but Chris could not smile. “She disappeared?”

“In the middle of the night,” Chris confessed. “I woke up and she was gone.”

The priest paused to look toward Mary. He seemed to see something. “Do not be afraid,” he said. “You found no sign of violence. You must believe Lilly is fine, and I have a feeling that you will find her, safe and sound.”

Chris tried to nod. “I am glad someone feels that way.” He sniffed to control his emotions. “I have not done her much good. I have a college degree, but I haven’t been able to find a job worth much, and even those I found, I haven’t been able to keep. Maybe if she is safe and sound, maybe she is better off without me.”

“We are always better off with each other.”

“Maybe,” Chris shrugged. “After these few years with Lilly, I don’t much like the prospect of being alone.” He tried hard to avoid crying again.

The priest pointed to Mary. “But you do not appear to be alone. You have one who cares about you. I believe she may help you find the way you need to go. I have seen that look before, you know.”

Chris shook his head. He did not understand what the priest was talking about. He also stared at Mary for a minute. The angel could not be seen.

###

“Please,” Mary begged, though only the angel heard her. “Please, most holy one.” The angel let out the smallest sliver of a smile.

“You said your heart belonged to the one who bears the Spirit of Christmas.” the angel said.

“It does…I…” Mary had to pause and think about that. “I love the dear old man. And I cried when his Missus went over to the other side. I cried every day when he sat by her bedside and held her hand. I cried when he said good-bye. I cry, still. Oh, but he is so old now, and sad. Surely his time is ending.” Mary wiped a small tear from her eye. “Oh, but Chris makes me feel all the love, joy, and peace of Christmas, just to look at him…” Mary had to pause again to think about what her heart wanted to propose. It would be asking a lot. “Maybe Chris could come to Christmas Town and share the burden, to give the dear old man a rest.” She fell silent, and prepared for whatever answer she might receive.

“He may be the one, I cannot say, but he will have to come the long way around.”

“We will,” Mary said, with some hope in her voice.

“He will have to find out about Lilly on his own. You cannot tell him about her.”

“I won’t,” Mary said, with determination.

“He will be tested. He will be tested in the heart where no words can go. If he fails a test or turns back at any time, he will find himself home, alone, with no memory of you or that he ever started the journey.”

Mary dropped her eyes once again. “I understand,” she said. The angel offered her a gift of hope. It would not do to argue.

“You will have to tell him who you really are, and show him.”

“Right now?”

“No. It needn’t be now. But it must be soon. It will also be a test.”

Mary began to cry for fear that he might not like her the way she really was. Some humans seemed thrilled to find their fantasies come to life, but most refused to believe it, and some feared it and accused anything non-human as being demonic and of the devil. It would be a great risk to reveal herself, but the angel was right again. Chris would have to know long before he got anywhere near the Christmas village.

“I will do it,” she said, with determination creeping back into her voice.

“Good,” the angel responded, and nearly let out the full smile. “Plum and Roy will come in the morning to help guide him in the way you need to go.”

“Plum and Roy?” Mary suddenly sounded uncertain again. “Must it be them?” Mary’s phone got a text message.

“They were charged to watch the apartment, and watch Chris and Lilly over these many months. Plum and Roy are the ones to guide him. That is how it must be,” the angel said, and vanished utterly from that place.

Mary looked up at a sound. Chris left off his cry and looked up at the same sound. A couple of men came in a side door, carrying statues of two wise men. One looked like a priest, and he spoke to the other.

“George. Did you forget to relock the side door?”

“I must have,” George admitted.

“The church is closed right now,” the priest said, nice and loud. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“Father?” Chris said, and turned around, but the older priest he had been speaking with disappeared as surely as Lilly disappeared.

“We were just looking for a place to pray,” Mary said, nice and loud in response, as she walked over to stand beside Chris. “Thank you, but we have what we need.” She put out her hand. Chris took it without hesitation, and stood, but he looked at her with curiosity and some concern.

“George, would you let them out,” the priest said, and George pulled out some keys and stood to wait for them to move.

“It’s all right,” Mary encouraged Chris. “I know what we need to do to find Lilly.” She gently drew him toward the door.

“What? You had a vision of some kind?”

Mary shook her head. “I got a text,” she said, and paused to smile for George as they squeezed out the door and heard it lock behind them. “We need to start by going home.”

Chris dropped Mary’s hand, but he did start to walk slowly toward the apartments. He could not think of what else to do. It started getting late, and he felt emotionally worn out. “Will she be home?” he asked.

Mary shook her head, and handed her phone to him. He read the text out loud.

“From Plum and Roy? We were contracted to watch the apartment over the weekend and saw the ones who took Lilly. Lilly is fine, but Roy followed them and we know where she is being taken. We will come around on Monday morning and take you to her. Be prepared for a week-long journey. No passport needed. Roy says sorry. No charge for our service, but donations accepted.”

They walked the whole way without a word, Mary’s face scrunched-up in deep thought. She could not imagine telling Chris that she was in fact a Christmas elf. She worried about how he might react. She worried that he might not like her anymore.

They checked with Missus Minelli, found Lilly had not returned, and went into Chris’ apartment to sit and wait.

“Nothing will happen until tomorrow,” Mary said. “Monday morning.”

Chris sat on the couch and Mary sat beside him. She took his hand again, with the idea that she would offer whatever comfort she could muster, but her nervousness came out instead. She began to worry his hand. She kept looking up into his stone-like face. She decided she could not imagine what he might be thinking. He surprised her. He bent toward her and kissed her smack on the lips, and she kissed him back with her whole heart. They separated slowly.

Chris and Mary sat, staring at each other for several more minutes, not moving, and not making a sound. Finally, Mary thought to say something.

“I think we finished the macaroni and cheese. I could scramble some eggs.”

Chris laughed. He laughed so hard, he fell off the couch. It sounded like a kind of nervous laugh, but Mary laughed as well, empathic elf that she was. Chris laughed himself to tears, before he finally stood and calmed enough to speak.

“I’m not really hungry. I think I need to go lie down.” He went to his room.

Mary curled up on the couch and cried a little. “Please don’t let this be the end of it,” she thought out loud. She seemed to feel like it might work out. At least she did not disappear from the room, as the angel said, if he failed a test. So, when the sun set, she slept, with only a brief prayer for happy dreams.