Kirstie

Kirstie cleaned her sword on the spring grass before she sent it home to Avalon. She checked her shield and battleaxe. The shield was beat up but repairable. The axe was in good shape but would need sharpening. She sent them and the sheath for the sword to Avalon as well. She found Excalibur on Avalon in her mind’s eye. It was the sword made in ancient days for the young Diogenes of Pella and used so well by Arthur. She called it to sit at her back. It felt a bit heavy, but it was what she had. Then she looked up.

Half of the men had crossed the field and come to stand on Kirstie’s side of the field. She saw Rune and Jarl, Bo Erikson, and one of the captains she did not know well They all brought their crews to her side. Gunhild waved to her. She looked back and saw Toke start across the field. She heard Harrold yell.

“Where do you think you are going?”

Toke answered in a very flat voice hardly loud enough for Kirstie to hear. “I can see how this is going. I don’t want to be on the losing side.”

Most of Harrold’s crew from Strindlos followed Toke. After all, Kirstie was one of theirs, and for some, a good friend and neighbor. The rest followed Harrold when he stomped across the field swearing loudly most of the way. He paused long enough to point a finger at Kirstie and yell. “Don’t think you are getting away with this.”

Odger said nothing. He took his crew down the bank to the sea, boarded his ship and set sail. After a few minutes, the other captain that Kirstie did not know well did the same thing. Finally, Ulf’s crew, being the last crew on that side of the field, followed.

The men that came to join Kirstie seemed happy, most of them, that at least they would not have to fight anyone, but Kirstie had a thought and raised her voice. “The tide will go out soon and there is an army waiting to cross the bridge. We need to be gone before they get here.”

Rune and Jarl started it. Soon, all the men were headed back to their ships. They generally waved and smiled for Kirstie, not wanting to get too close to the giant. Frode braved it, and Gunhild. They hugged Kirstie. Thoren and Kare stopped out of Vortsvin’s reach, and Kare yelled at her. She ruined everything. She yelled back for a minute before she pointed out that he should at least be happy that she is still alive. He did not listen, so neither did she.

Thoren interrupted when they seemed to run out of thing to say. “We need to go.”

Kirstie looked at him and said, “I’ll catch up.”

Thoren tapped Kare on the shoulder, and Kare turned to follow his friend, apparently thinking deep thoughts.

Kirstie saw Yrsa caught up with her, and Father McAndrews stopped to talk to the giant. Vortesvin had his hat in his hands and kept calling the priest “Your Holiness.” Kirstie thought it best to interrupt.

“Vortesvin,” she called.

“Yes, Lady. Excuse me.” Vortesvin stepped to Kirstie who shook her right hand to get the circulation back in the hand, and she moaned a bit as her shoulders and back were going to ache with her legs, or for that matter, all of her. She figured for the moment the adrenaline was still pumping.

Kirstie spoke softly. “Thank you for being here and keeping me safe. You need to go home now. Tell Fiona and the boys I will be home as soon as I can and tell the same to Inga if you see her.” She patted the troll on the shoulder, about as high as she could reach, and Vortesvin disappeared. Immediately, Abraxas appeared in a flash of light.

“You cheat,” he said, almost before he became fully manifest. “What?” he added when he saw the look on her face. Kirstie just killed a man. She was in no mood to kill again, or even deal with this monster. She traded places with Danna, the mother goddess of the Celtic gods on whose land they stood. Abraxas flinched, but he did not run away, not that he could have gotten away. Danna suspected he had something in mind, but she could only deal with that when it happened.

“Morrigu, your mother, and Janus, your father are both waiting for you on the other side,” Danna said.

“How do you know what is on the other side?” Abraxas complained, sounding a bit like a child.

“Boys,” Danna called. Gwyn came from his hermitage in Tara and Manannan came from the sea. They appeared on either side of Abraxas where they could hold him in check. Danna already glued Abraxas’ feet to the earth so he could not escape. It did not take long to figure out what she would do. “I banish you from my islands, so now you are banished from all the earth. Anywhere you set your feet on the ground, or the waters will be death for you.”

“What about these two,” he complained. “Why are they still here?”

“My disobedient children are not your concern,” Danna answered. “But let me say that they are not trying to turn the human race to worship them. They are not trying to build a new dynasty of gods. They are not making hags to threaten and terrify the people. You don’t seem to understand that the day of the gods is over. The old way is gone, and the new way has come. I trust they will go over to the other side in due time. I do not trust you. I have given you three chances to do the right thing, and three times you have failed.”

“Who made you the decider of all things?” He sounded bitter.

“The source through the council of all the ancient gods gave me the responsibility to watch over history, and you are seriously messing it up. So, now you no longer have a place in Europe, North Africa, or the Middle East, and there is nowhere else on this earth that you have a claim. Even so, I will not take your life. You can wander through the Second Heavens until you find the courage to do what you should have done ages ago. Visit the ruins of Olympus, the land of your father. Visit the broken-down halls of Aesgard, the land of your mother. Only, do not return to the earth under penalty of death. It is so,” she said and waved her hand, and Abraxas vanished.

“Mother,” Manannan nodded to her and vanished.

“Mother.” Gwyn stepped up and gave her a hug.

“Is this a touch of gray hair I see? Are you eating right and getting enough sleep?”

“Mother, the daughters of Macreedy are sticklers about such things and after these last few hundred years, I can’t fool them like I used to.” He sighed.

Danna asked, “When?” She touched Gwyn’s radiant cheek before she let him go.

Gwyn backed up. “As you said. In due time.” he vanished, and Danna let Kirstie come back, aching muscles and all, and she spoke right away. “I question the wisdom of that. I may regret letting Abraxas live. He submitted to his judgement too easily. He must have something up his sleeve. He presented himself for judgement.”

“One day, when the trumpet sounds, we will all present ourselves for judgment.” Father McAndrews stepped to Kirstie’s side with his eyes still focused on where the ancient gods stood. “The god of the sea and the bright and shining Gwyn ap Nudd.”

“That was one of his names,” Kirstie nodded.

“And the one who called himself the god of fire and water.”

“Abraxas.”

“And you are Gentle Annie, Anu, the mother of the gods?”

“I was once, but that was ages and ages ago. In this life and this world, I am a mere mortal girl, or woman.”

“One gifted beyond what you deserve.” Father McAndrews smiled for her and handed her a little gold cross on a metal chain. “To replace your little wooden one.”

Kirstie nodded and hugged the man. “You know I won’t be allowed to keep this. Captain Harrold will steal it as compensation for making him miss the treasures of Lindisfarne.”

“But this is not from Lindisfarne. You can tell him. It was my mother’s.”

Kirstie looked at the cross while Yrsa spoke. “Good thing it is not bigger. More gold would tempt Captain Harrold to turn around and come right back here looking for more.”

One of the monks who inched up in Father McAndrew’s tail spoke. “The only treasure we have at Lindisfarne is the Gospel of Jesus Christ.”

“And that is the finest treasure in all the universe, only my people don’t know it,” Kirstie said, and slipped the cross and chain into a small purse she had hidden inside her armor where it looked indistinguishable from the rest of her outfit.

Father McAndrews hugged Yrsa and returned Kirstie’s hug. “We all have our divinely appointed path to follow. I can see that yours is a hard one, but all the same, I would say you are a fine young woman.”

“And one who must go,” Kirstie said. “But you must visit my home. We are in need of the good news of salvation. We need to hear about God and the forgiveness in Jesus. Come to the great fjord in Trondelag, and my home Strindlos. Kerga is Chief. Bring him a gift. It is tradition. Mother Vrya is the Volva, a healer, storyteller, and sage whose advice is sought by chiefs from all around the fjord. Mother Vrya. Chief Kerga. Strindlos. I will look for you.”

Kirstie was ready to go, but Yrsa added a complication. “Look for Wilam of Ellingham. He is a navigator and Brant Svenson is the skipari. They sail with the merchant Captain Olaf out of Bamburgh. They may be willing to brave the Norwegian shore. In fact, you may find Wilam with the men of Ross even now sailing to the island. Despite moving in the early hours before dawn, our longships were seen. Good thing Lady Kirstie convinced our people to leave. Otherwise, this holy island would have become a battleground. Wilam of Ellingham. Brant Svenson. Captain Olaf out of Bamburgh.”

“Go with God,” Kirstie started walking. She wanted to yell at Yrsa, but she could not get the words passed her smile that came from thinking about it.

END

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MONDAY – TUESDAY – and WEDNESDAY

A brief respite: three short stories that are all wonderfully politically incorrect. Of course, in this current cultural climate that makes the stories unmarketable, but they are worth reading. I hope you enjoy them and Happy Reading

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