Kairos

Medieval 6: K and Y 5 Divorce, part 2 of 2

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Inga let Yrsa go home while she came up with Kirstie’s four-year-old son, Soren. Kirstie grabbed Soren and rocked him gently with her tears, and Inga stayed right beside her.

“Mama?” Soren cried a little, too, but he was not sure what he was crying about.

“Every time he was home, I tried to make it work. I tried for four years, nearly five.” Kirstie told Inga. “How stupid was that?”

“Not stupid.” Inga said. “You want a husband and a home, and you did everything you could to make it work. There is nothing stupid in that.”

Kirstie cried a little more. “He is so mean. He’s meaner than Severas, greedier than Corriden, far uglier than Sabellius, and stupider than Otto, Louis and Charles, the Three Stooges put together.”

“Who are they?” Inga asked softly.

Kirstie shook her head wistfully. “People who will live a hundred years from now, right before Y1K. It doesn’t matter.” She paused, then shouted as if the little speck of a ship in the distance could hear her. “I wish you lived a hundred years from now. Then I would not have to suffer with your mean, greedy, stupid, ugly self!”

“Mama?” Soren watched her closely.

“It will be all right, dearest. You will see. Some day you will be a good man, a good captain, with your own ship.”

“Like Papa?” he asked.

“No.” Kirstie said flatly. “Not like your father. I said you will be a good man and have a good wife and many happy children.”

“Kirstie.” Inga touched her arm. “You have been a good wife. Even if it is over, you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Wilam?” she whispered.

“You deserve him.” Inga said to Kirstie’s surprise. “A good wife needs a good man and a happy child.” She included Soren.

“Soren,” Kirstie said, holding him back a little to look at him. “Are you happy?”

Soren looked at his mother, turned to Inga, and then looked back at his mother. “I guess,” he shrugged.

“Well.” Kirstie said, feeling a little better after her cry. “Let us do something to make you happy.” She stood and took him by the hand. Inga took his other hand and they all decided to get out the little skiff to picnic on the other side of the bay, and maybe catch a few fish.

“Inga.” Kirstie said later in the day. “What am I going to do?” It was a problem for women in her world. The Viking lifestyle produced too many widows, lonely women who became a burden to their children and the community. Many of those women suffered from hunger and hopelessness for years. It was why men got away with so much, and why so many women stayed home despite their better sense. At least her village had a tradition of bringing such women together for mutual help and support. The Witcher Women worked in linen and wool and worked as tailors and seamstresses, so they contributed to the community and were not just burdens.

Kirstie was rich compared to most women. She was rich like the nobility. She had properties and tenants. She had thralls to work her land. She was looking at another piece of property on the other side of her house. She was thinking about getting some horses to ride like Yasmina. She would need more thralls or hired men. Maybe a family of farmers, like serfs. Still, it would not help her in her loneliness. What if Wilam changed his mind over the last year? Surely Kare will move to Nidaros full time. Let him go, but that would leave her alone.

Kirstie repeated the question. “What am I going to do?”

“Do not doubt Wilam,” Inga said, and indicated she had been thinking about it.

“I don’t,” she said without much conviction. “But he is an outsider. He might never fit in here. I don’t know.”

“Well,” Inga drew out the word. “You could always sell your properties and with all that money you and Wilam could buy a fine home in Northumbria. I am sure King Eadwulf would make room for the savior of Lindisfarne.”

Kirstie paused before she shook her head. “My place is here. I need access to longships and their ability to travel long distances. I have a feeling this struggle with Abraxas is not over, banished from the earth though he is for all time. I don’t know what Wilam will say. There is so much about me that he does not know. He may yet change his mind.”

“Well, you could come back to the Witcher Women. Mother Vrya would not mind if you did,” she said.

“I don’t know if I could.” Kirstie sounded pensive. “It is honestly not my place.”

“Faugh.” Inga said with a smile and a touch on her arm. “You have been blessed by the gods. The water and the fire, Njord and Fryer themselves have gifted you beyond any ordinary women. You have more real magic in your little finger than all the Witcher Women who ever lived. Things changed mightily the day Elgar the Saxon killed the Hag that drove the Vanlil to make war on the fjord.” Kirstie nodded. She understood.

“Then again, you changed everything for all women on the day you picked up a sword. Why, you went to sea with the men, not once, but three times in your youth. You know how to navigate. You know about sails and sailing. You have even slain a man, a rite of passage that only boys hope to attain.”

“All that is true.” Kirstie said. “But it means nothing. For four years now I have been a wife and mother, just like any other in the village and whether I picked him or not, Kare has been my husband and father to my son. Now that we are divorced, where will I go? What will I do?” Kirstie sounded more distressed than she actually felt.

“I would say you can do anything you want.” Inga said. “You proved that much on more than one occasion.”

“Perhaps Soren and I should run away and join the circus.” Kirstie said out of frustration.

“What’s a circus?” Inga asked. She always asked, though Kirstie rarely answered.

“Mama!” They heard Soren’s cry from a distance. “Mama!” It was his cry of distress and Kirstie got to her feet and ran as fast as she could.

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

MONDAY

Yasmina does not want to be left out of this divorce business but unexpectedly faces the servants of the Masters and Kirstie is called on to fight in Sickness and the Cure. Until then, Happy Reading

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

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Wilam and Kirstie spent as much time together as they could over the week his ship was in port. Sadly, it did not amount to much time. Fortunately, it was enough time for Kirstie to know she would say yes when he asked again. She realized how important it was that she decided to divorce Kare first, back when she never expected to see Wilam again.

Wilam left all too soon, but he promised to be back in a year. They had a contract with the village. Kirstie swore the divorce would be settled by the time he returned, but then Kare did not come back to Strindlos for almost the entire year. She heard he returned to Nidaros after a roughly five months of good weather. He stayed there a couple of months, sailed off again for another couple of months before the winter came full on. He landed again in Nidaros and returned to Strindlos only in the early spring. He saw the grain and wool as well as the furs and hides she collected and tanned for trade. He also found the two ivory walrus tusks the dwarfs brought her in early March, around Soren’s fourth birthday.

“They rut in February and the old ones die off then, sometimes,” Booturn said.

Kirstie asked if she could keep Birdie and Missus Kettle for another year. He said, “By all means,” but she could tell he was beginning to miss her. She vowed she would find a cook she could hire, which is how she preferred to think of it, and another woman she might get to do the wool, linen, and the general sewing and constant mending and washing needed around the place.

“Too bad Mother Freyja is not around these days,” she told Yrsa one afternoon when they walked home from visiting Kirstie’s properties. When Yrsa asked why, she said, “Because she could find just the right two women for Thomas and Gustavs, and I would not have to worry about them so much.”

“They seem content,” Yrsa said.

Kirstie agreed. They had no complaints. But content and happy were two different things. “I guess now I have to depend on the Lord to direct my steps,” she said, but did not explain what she meant.

When they got home, Kirstie found Kare rummaging around in the barn and drooling over the ivory, which he found, picked up, and covered with a blanket so no one would know. He started toward the barn door and got caught with the goods. He had to quickly toss them aside.

“Get out,” Kirstie yelled first thing before she even realized he was stealing her stuff.

“What?” He played stupid.

“You no longer have any business being here. I’m divorcing you.”

“What?” He got suddenly serious. “You can’t do that. You are my wife.”

“I can do that, and I am doing that.” She let out some steam. “Get out and don’t come back.”

He got triggered. Kirstie saw the red boil over in Kare’s eyes. He had to have heard about her decision to divorce him and maybe he thought he could talk her out of it, but she knew how to push his buttons. He clearly wanted to hit her but paused when he heard a voice behind him.

“You heard her,” Thomas and Gustavs both stood there, and Thomas had a hoe while Gustavs carried the pitchfork.

“You heard her,” Yrsa mirrored the words and appeared beside Kirstie, her knife in her hand. Booturn also stepped up, and he held an axe as big as himself.

“Get out,” Kirstie yelled again.

“I would do as the lady says,” Booturn spoke calmly.

“Okay. All right. I’m going,” Kare backed down, but he kicked the ivory tusks and slammed the barn door as he left.

Kirstie fought back the angry tears. “He came back to steal my stuff,” she concluded.

“You need to get to Inga, Mother Vrya, and Chief Kerga first thing in the morning,” Yrsa said, showing a remarkable bit of sense. Kirstie nodded and went into the house. When Inga came with Soren, she told Inga what she was going to do.

“I’ll be ready,” Inga said, and Kirstie thanked her. She fed Soren and put him to bed. She crawled into her own bed alone until Soren toddled in and got up in the bed beside his mother. Then Kirstie slept.

When the morning came, when the sun just touched the horizon, Yrsa came to take Soren’s hand. They followed Kirstie who went straight to the Witcher Women. Despite the early hour, Mother Vrya was ready and waiting, and Inga stood with her. They got to the big house in time to see Chief Kerga go in ahead of them.

Chief Kerga had to send two men to fetch Kare. Kare was preparing his ship for departure, and he refused to come on his own, by request, or by an order from the chief, so he had to be brought in. Jarl and Harrold were there to witness along with Mother Vrya and several of the village elders. It did not take long for Kirstie to explain. Kare was unfaithful, a drunk and a thief besides. Yrsa was a witness to his thieving. He tried to walk off with her ivory.

“The word of a woman supporting a woman,” Kare said. “That hardly counts as proof.”

“Thomas and Gustavs were both witnesses, too,” she said.

“The word of thralls? What did you promise them to lie for you?”

“There are other witnesses, but I hesitate to call them. Anyway, it does not matter. You were caught stealing before.”

“What? You have no proof of that.”

“But we do,” Jarl interrupted. He called two men to testify. They were once part of Kare’s crew, but Jarl enticed them to sail on his ship, and they did not take much enticement.

“Yes,” they said. “We were with him last year when he tried to take the grain and wool from the barn. He said it was his to take. We did not know.”

“But it was not his to take,” Kirstie said. “Besides, he sold my thralls, my property without permission. He owes me thirty pieces of silver. Better yet, he should be forced to go and get my thralls back at whatever cost. Besides that, he hit me once, and more important, he hit my son. You all saw the black eye. I know, some men beat their wives and children. Some men take from the family and from their wives and get away with that. Some men even have lovers on the side. But all these added together say I cannot trust him. The marriage is dead and should be ended. Besides that, he never paid the bride price, and for that the marriage should be counted as if it never happened. I would rather have poor Soren be a bastard son than continue in this farce.”

Kare choked on the words “bride price.” He tried to think of some defense, but he had nothing. The beating, the mistress or two, even taking the wife’s property without permission might not of themselves be grounds enough for a divorce; but he forgot all about the bride price. It was too late. He could never pay enough. She would not accept it, and without paying the bride price, they were not really married. He finally said, “But you are the one I was always going to marry. You are my wife.” His anger flared, but he got cut off by Harrold’s words.

“Not anymore.” He looked up, not at Kirstie, but at the ceiling, and said, “Divorce.”

Jarl said “Divorce.”

Mother Vrya and Chief Kerga said, “Divorce,” and the rest of the men said it, though some of them whispered it.

Kare roared. “I’ll be back soon enough, and then we will settle this.” He stomped out of the building.

“It’s already settled.” Kirstie shot after him with her anger. She raced to the door. “I won’t be here when you get back.”

“You had better be.” Kare shouted. “Or I will find out who he is and kill him.”

“No.” Kirstie shook her determined head, her light blond hair going every which way. “It is over between us.”

“You are my wife.” He roared once more.

“Forced.” She growled. “But no more.”

Kare rushed back and his hand came up to slap her face, but Kirstie stood her ground ready to fight him off. “You know what will happen if you ever strike me.” She said in a low, hard voice. She would kill him, and he knew it. He thought better about the slap. With a growl of his own, Kare spun around, raced to his ship and they cast off. As the oars came out and the ship began to pull out into the fjord, Kirstie sat down, right on the dock, and cried. All those years of pent-up frustration, disappointment, and feelings of hopelessness came out all at once.

Medieval 6: K and Y 4 Happy Soon, part 3 of 3

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Kirstie

“It is well known that a woman warrior, a shield maiden stood alone on the field beneath Lindisfarne Abbey. She alone faced four hundred Norsemen and asked them, no, demanded that they not do any evil on that holy ground. Some say it was arrogance. Some call it hubris. But the Holy Church has determined that the angels of the Lord came around her to protect and strengthen her arm for the trial. Indeed, she fought the devil on that field and prevailed, and the Northmen, being men of honor, accepted the outcome and withdrew from that place, thus sparing the abbey and the holy island.”

“That was not exactly how it went,” Harrold mumbled.

“Near enough,” Rune whispered.

“Lindisfarne is ruined these hundred years. They have no gold, no silver, no jewels of any kind. Only a few ragged monks remain to keep the fire burning. But it does remain a symbol of peace and salvation for all the people, and this the church knows well. Therefore, they established a small purse and went to King Eadwulf II to find the woman and reward her with all of their thanks. The king was so moved by the courage of the woman who faced certain death, he doubled the purse, and we were contracted to find her and bring her the sign of our gratitude.”

“And Fairhair?” Jarl asked. “You said the king’s business.”

“Hush,” Harrold said. He liked a good story.

“Quiet,” Chief Kerga added.

“That first year we sailed to Kaupang, the chief trading town of the Norse, the king’s town. Harald Fairhair took half of our goods without compensation, and we dared not complain. Somehow, he heard about the attack on Lindisfarne and became enraged. He asked who did something so stupid without his permission. He was told Ulf Hakenson from Steinker, but Ulf got killed before there was a battle, so the others withdrew. That calmed the king a little. “That is one bad situation I don’t want to get involved in,” he said. “Let the Saxons and Danes kill each other off. I have plenty of Geats and Danes by the shipload right here to deal with.” We got out of there and said nothing about Trondelag or Strindlos. So, if the king comes here looking for the men involved in the raid on Northumbria, he won’t hear about it from us.”

“Why would you care what happens to us?” Harrold asked. It was an honest question and got an honest answer from Wilam.

“Because we want a good trading partner, and it would not start things well by pointing a finger at you. Right now, we are the only ship from Northumbria who is brave enough to dare the waters of the Norse. Others will follow soon enough, but we would like to be established and on good terms before that happens.”

“Story,” Chief Kerga said as if the interruption was rude. Brant picked up where he left off.

“In the second year, we sailed to Agden, not wanting to get tangled in Vestfold again and not wanting to give up half our cargo for nothing. We sailed the shore all spring and summer. Rogaland, Hordaland, Sogn and the great fjord there. We had to give some of our goods again for nothing, but we also made some trades, so it was not a total loss. However, we did not find Trondelag. We found many fjords, but the best information we could get about Trondelag was further north, further north. By the time we got to South Moeri and we found out Trondelag and the fjord we were looking for was in North Moeri, the weather began to turn. We headed home with little to show for two years of trade, but now we at least knew where we were headed.”

“In the third year, the king got word that Aethelwold, the son of Siefried died under strange circumstances, and Cnut of York invested his sons, Halfdan, Eowils, and young Ingwaer to follow after him. King Eadwulf kept his ships close to home that year. We did not go out. Then, this year, we came straight to this place, but we were stopped at the entrance to the fjord. We told them we were on the king’s business and looking for the village of Strindlos. They were good enough to give us directions and let us go. We got stopped a second time in the narrow place by Stadr.”

“We are on the king’s business,” we said.

“And what business is that?” the captain asked.

“It is the king’s business,” I told him. “Should I turn around and go back and tell the king one man would not let us proceed?”

“We are headed to Strindlos with word of another hag,” Wilam interrupted. “Should we tell the hag that Stadr seems a very tasty village.”

“That won’t be necessary. You may proceed.” Several of the men that sat listening laughed, nervously.

“We almost got stopped a third time, but we told Captain Jarl that we were on the king’s business. We did not, however, say which king. The box.” The two men guarding the chest set it on the table in front of Captain Olaf. “Kirstie,” Brant said. “Please accept this reward and the thanks of both the church and the king, that is, King Eadwulf II.” he opened the box and the men saw it was full of silver and some gold coins.”

Kirstie did not blink. “Please bring the box over here,” she said, and walked to the table they used when a ship returned and had to divide up their take fairly under the watchful eye of the chief and the elders. They brought her the chest and she dumped it on the table. It did not have as much in it as it appeared. The chest had thick sides. It took her a few minutes under everyone’s watchful eye to divide the contents into eight equal piles. She had two pieces of silver left over and she handed them to Mother Vrya for the Witcher Women.

“Why eight piles?” Jarl asked. “One per ship?”

Kirstie shook her head. “Njal’s ship, Odger’s ship, and the other captain I can’t remember deserve nothing. They only left when they were outnumbered. One pile is for Chief Kerga and the village of Strindlos. One is for me, captain of this ship. It is the ship’s portion. A second is my personal cut, me and Yrsa. She pushed the two piles back into the chest and closed the chest. For these last five, I need two leather pouches if there are any.” She got offered three pouches. One was clearly too small, but the other two would do well enough. “These five piles are for the ships that came to their senses and to my side of the field. You deserve a fair share of the thanks.” Kirstie filled the two pouches with a portion each and that left three portions on the table, one for Rune, one for Jarl, and one for Harrold. Each portion had a gold piece, but Kirstie picked up the gold piece off Harrold’s pile and spoke to him.

“But you already received your gold piece.”

He did not argue. Instead, he reached for the inner pocket of his tunic and pulled out the little golden Cross Father McAndrews gave her. She was surprised he still had it and had not melted it down. “I have heard the story,” he said. “I think I will keep this if I may.”

“You may,” she said, and handed him the gold piece as well.

When all was done, she said, “These two bags are for Captain Erikson and Captain, the other one.”

“Roarson,” Rune said.

Kirstie nodded, picked up the chest and the two bags and juggled her way back to her seat where she tried to hide her face behind her hair.

After that, it got trade boring. Kirstie put her grain and carded wool into the pot of Strindlos trade goods, but then she and Inga snuck out. The men would have to work out the rest of it, and she felt glad to see Wilam right in there bargaining with the best of them.

Medieval 6: K and Y 4 Happy Soon, part 2 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Wilam and Kirstie let go and looked a bit embarrassed at having behaved as they did, even if most of the crowd just smiled at them. Alm had his arm around Yrsa, and she had her arm around Soren. Inga and Brant looked around and saw the captains Olaf and Jarl headed for the village. Kirstie saw Rune and Harrold head there as well. Mother Vrya and her cane limped beside Chief Kerga, who limped some himself after all those years.

Kirstie quickly distracted herself by reaching for Soren. She knelt down to her son and saw the welt around his eye, and it made her more determined than ever to tell Kare to leave and never come back. She picked him up and set him on her hip before she turned. “Soren,” she said. “This is Wilam.” Soren looked before he turned his shy head into his mother’s shoulder.

“Come on,” Brant said.

“A good son,” Wilam said and brushed the boy’s hair from his face. “Let me see that eye.” Soren would not look up to show the man. “That looks like a real black eye. It must have hurt.”

“Start walking,” Inga said, and the couple began to shuffle slowly in the direction of the village.

“A shock, I think,” Kirstie answered. “And one of many reasons why I am getting a divorce as soon as possible.”

“I had my share of spankings when I was growing up,” Wilam admitted.

“More than his share,” Brant said, with a knowing smile for Inga, who returned the smile.

Wilam continued as if not interrupted. “But my father never hit me. I knew when I did wrong and deserved a whipping, but my father never hit me.”

“Soren did nothing wrong. His father was angry, and he lashed out. He knew if he hit me, I would kill him, so he took his anger out on the child. I have no use for a man who hits people when he does not get his way. I especially want nothing to do with a man who hits children.”

Wilam raised a hand like he was taking an oath, and he said, “I promise to always respect you and the children for as long as I may live, so help me God.”

Kirstie looked down to watch her feet. She said nothing until they reached the door to the big house. Then she said the word that stood out in her mind. “Children?”

Wilam apologized. “I’m sorry. You are all I have thought of for three years. I feel as if we are already married. I’m sorry.”

Kirstie stopped. She set Soren down and let Yrsa take his hand again. She looked again in Wilam’s eyes and hardly knew what to say. She surprised herself as much as Wilam when she finally answered him. “A little girl would be nice.”

“Inside,” Inga said, and took Kirstie by the hand.

“Wilam,” Brant spoke in a tone of voice that got Wilam’s full attention. He motioned toward the doorway, and Wilam nodded and followed him in.

The first order of business was to open a keg of the local brew and get some food cooking almost as an afterthought. Kirstie once wondered why men had to get drunk before discussing business. It seemed an odd ritual, but it was the way it was done.

Yrsa and Buttercup kept Soren outside and occupied. They would eventually take him to Hilda’s where he could play with his friend Hodur. The other three women, Mother Vrya, Inga, and Kirstie sat off to the side in a special area where women were allowed. The women were not supposed to speak unless given permission, though they did not always play by that rule. Certainly, no one stopped Mother Vrya from speaking when she had something to say.

Once the atmosphere was subdued, Chief Kerga began with the introductions.

The strangers were seated where they faced the chief, sort of in the center of the room. There were five of them, Captain Olaf, Wilam, Brant Svenson, and two men who carried a small chest between them. They looked like rough men who kept their eyes on the chest, and that made people curious.

The three ship captains sat up front by the chief. They were all on a slightly raised platform that allowed them to see the whole hall. A dozen elders, mostly men with big, productive farms sat around the strangers, and some other men sat behind them.

“Captain Olaf Sturgeson, mostly Danish from the town of Lucker in Northumbria, English land. My Skipper is Brant Svenson, a fine Norwegian lad through his father Sven. My navigator is young Wilam Halfdanson, the last son of Halfdan Ragnarsson before he sailed off to Ireland to be killed in battle.”

Olaf had to stop as the talk went around the room. Everyone knew about Halfdan Ragnarsson, son of Ragnar Lodbrok, who with his brothers, Bjorn Ironside, Ivar the Boneless, and Sigurd Snake-in-the-eye, raised a great army and invaded England. Only the West Saxons stopped them from conquering the whole island. When the room settled down, Olaf got ready to speak again, but Wilam stood, and the room quieted. He spoke to Kirstie.

“My mother became pregnant days before my father sailed off to try and retake Dublin. By the time I was born, he had already failed and died in battle. So, you see, I never knew my father, and though I carry his blood in my veins, I do not make it a big thing.” He sat.

Olaf added, “Most of the crew call him Wilam, but some, sometimes call him Halfdan out of deference to his father.”

“Thank you,” Kerga said, with an extra-long look at Wilam and a long glance at Kirstie. “Do we have any who will vouch for the captain?”

“I will,” Jarl stood. He told the story of sailing to Normandy and being captured by the hag. Everyone there remembered how frightening the hag of the Vanlil had been, so they did not doubt the horror of the experience. He told about being caged beside the men from Northumbria while he left Old Man Skarde with Kirstie and her maid on the ship. He told how angry he had been at first, not that the three left the ship, but that once again Kirstie would get credit for saving the day. Then he exaggerated the confrontation with the hag beyond belief, but he ended with saying Captain Olaf and his crew stood beside them ready to fight as friends.

“When I found them off the coast of Nidaros, I hailed them, and they said they were on the king’s business. Brant spoke for his crew and said they were looking for Strindlos. I thought it was my duty to escort them here and see what king’s business they had in this place.”

Captain Olaf stood. “Our business is two-fold. First and most important, we are merchants in search of honest trading partners. I was told the people of Trondelag have need of quality crafted ironworks, plows as well as swords. We also have cows in the hold if you have the desire for such. We will take grain, but we would prefer furs such as are scarce in the English countryside and hides that may be worked into many made items.” He stopped speaking because the men began to shake their heads and make noises about not understanding the man. Brant stood, because his Norse was not tainted by such a heavy Danish accent.

“Our business is two-fold.” He took it from the top. “We are first of all merchants in search of fair and honest trading partners. You have the hides and furs that are hard to come by in our home. We have some finely crafted ironworks that you will find interesting and useful. But we can discuss trade a bit later. First, we have a duty to the king. Let me tell you the story.” He glanced at Kirstie and looked at Inga, who smiled for him, and it made him smile.

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MONDAY

Kirstie is rewarded for her work in Northumbria and then needs to figure out how to get a divorce from Kare the Jerk. Until Monday, Happy Reading

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Medieval 6: K and Y 4 Happy Soon, part 1 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Once on the dock, they got joined by the elders, including Svend the blacksmith who was not quite ready to move to Nidaros, and they were backed up by all the families waiting to welcome home Jarl’s crew from their long voyage.

The new ship looked like a real transport, like from the Danelaw, or maybe eastern, Swedish lands. It had a hold and stood taller in the water that Jarl’s longship, but it looked slimmer than the typical belly-boat such as merchants sailed in the waters of Northern Europe. It looked like the kind of ship that might stop at the towns at the entrance to the fjord, or sail to the king’s house, back before the king’s house burned, or maybe sail all the way up to Maerin or Steinker. It did not look like a ship that would bother with a small and getting smaller village like Strindlos.

The ship bumped gently against the dockside, as Jarl brought his longship to the other side. Kirstie did not wonder for long who the ship might belong to. She saw old Captain Olaf lean over from the rail. “May we come ashore?” he shouted in as near to the old Norse tongue as he could manage.

No one could answer because Kirstie took a step forward and shouted, “Wilam.”

“Kirstie,” they heard the return shout, and the young man leapt to the dock without waiting for permission. Kirstie ran to him, and he met her halfway. They wrapped each other up in their arms and Kirstie began to cry softly on Wilam’s shoulder. He whispered in her ear. “I spent the last four years looking for you.”

“I spent the last four years dreaming about you. I’m sorry,” she said, and could not say any more through her tears.

Inga came up alongside Kirstie and a man came up beside Wilam. They looked at the couple before they looked at each other, and Inga spoke first. “Inga,” she gave her name.

“Brant Svenson,” he said, and smiled. “I take it you are Kirstie’ friend.” His old Norse was much better than Captain Olaf’s, though he spoke with a touch of a Danish accent.

“More like her watcher, ever since she was a wild child.”

Brant nodded. “Same for Wilam. He did not calm down until he started to study the stars and learn about navigating the seas. Now that he has found his heart’s desire, I hope he may finally become a man.”

Inga nodded and pushed her hair back a bit. Buttercup was whispering that this man seemed very nice, but Inga could tell that for herself. Buttercup did not get exposed, but the fairy quieted. “So, you know. Kirstie is twenty. I am eight years her senior and I am studying the ancient wisdom of the Volva. But even at a young age, Kirstie knew more about all things than myself and my teacher combined. She is special beyond words and in ways I cannot explain, but you must see for yourself.”

Brant nodded that he understood something. “And I am thirty to Wilam’s twenty-five, and I saw the goddess in Normandy,” he said, but did not explain as he turned his head when Wilam spoke.

“So, will you marry me?”

Kirstie finished crying and pulled back to look into Wilam’s face. She studied his eyes. She pulled from the embrace but held on to his hands. She did not think for very long. “I want to, but I can’t right now. After Lindisfarne, I was forced to marry someone else. I tried to make it work. I have a three-year-old son. But I just went to the elders to insist on a divorce. I never thought I would see you again. You may want to change your mind, but even if you do, I will be getting a divorce.” She waited, near tears again, but he did not think for very long either. He just had to piece those sentences together.

“So, we have to wait until the divorce is final, that’s all.”

Kirstie cried, but they were happy tears. She hugged him tight once again, and this time she did not want to let go.

“That was quick,” Inga said.

“Not hardly,” Brant said. “She was all he could talk about since he turned twenty-one. Sometimes, I feared he might explode for wanting her.”

“Is that how you feel about your wife?”

“Not married,” he said, and Inga felt something inside. Maybe she felt happy.

“So, the goddess?”

“Gnomes, too, though I never heard that name before. At least gnomes are what she called them.” Brant smiled and did not mind sharing his thoughts with Inga. “My neighbors back home would call them brownies. I suppose in Frankish, old Germanic lands they might be called kobold. Here, they might be called dwarfs or maybe elves of some sort. “

Inga pushed her hair back again to get Buttercup quiet. “My source says they are whatever Kirstie called them. It is part of what I was talking about when I said Kirstie was special beyond words. Apparently, she is the expert and decider of such things.”

“Your source being the fairy on your shoulder?” Brant asked, and Inga looked temporarily shocked. “I can explain. After Kirstie warned us and we evacuated the village, Wilam said he wanted to go back and look for her, but he did not know where to start. We went with the men of Bamburgh to search the coast for signs of the longships. Some men went south. We went north to Ross, and eventually all the way to Lindisfarne and back to Ross but saw no sign of any ships. When the men believed the longships eluded us and we were ready to give up, Wilam and I got a visit from the strangest crew we ever encountered. There were fairies, dwarfs, elves, brownies, gnomes of all shapes and sizes. They talked to Wilam like he was their friend and begged him to hurry to Lindisfarne. They said Kirstie was standing alone, with only her elf maid to support her, and she would surely die at the hands of the Vikings who planned to despoil the island.”

“What did you do?” Buttercup spoke right up suddenly ignoring the fact that she was supposed to be hiding in Inga’s hair.

Inga looked to the side and repeated the question in a calmer voice. “What did you do?”

“We hurried. We got all the ships we could find and all the men we could gather. Many raced up the coast but had to wait for the tide to go out before they could cross to the island. Many went with us aboard the ships. We landed at the docks and climbed the hill in time to see the last of the longships parked on the rocky shore. Wilam said he saw Kirstie, but she was too far away to call. She went with the ship, and he lost her, but he knew she was alive, and the Vikings left the island alone. Later, we heard the story from Father McAndrews about the bravery of the lone girl and how she fought the leader of the Vikings and turned them all away.”

Inga and Brant looked to the side and saw Wilam and Kirstie clinging to each other, staring at them, listening to the story with otherwise the same empty looks on their faces. Inga and Brant shared a smile and Mother Vrya arrived and totally interrupted everyone.

“Love later,” she said. “First we have business at the big house.”

Medieval 6: K and Y 3 Helpful Decisions, part 2 of 2

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Yasmina

“It has been three years and the mothers are beginning to ask serious questions,” Yasmina admitted. She whispered to Aisha because they were approaching the area where the women went to watch what was happening in the court. Yasmina knew al-Hakim’s mother and grandmother would be there and hear everything.

“They know al-Hakim has no interest in girls. Maybe they will blame him.”

Yasmina shook her head. “If I don’t get pregnant soon, I will be out, and they will find al-Hakim a new wife.”

“I will think on it,” Aisha said, and then quieted as they came to the lattice wall and offered a bow to the Mahdi’s wife and al-Qa’im’s wife. The delegation from Alexandria was expected. Yasmina wondered if there might be fireworks, though gunpowder had not yet been invented.

Yasmina watched the men troop in. She did not look closely. Her eyes were focused instead on the old man’s face. She saw the frown form there and knew he would not be inclined to be gracious to his guests.

Aisha nudged her and pointed to the delegation from Alexandria. Yasmina caught sight of the leader of the delegation as the man bowed and made a nice little speech. He was the chief rival of Suffar, the governor of Alexandria’s evil Vizir. She guessed Suffar found a way to make the man leave town, maybe permanently. A delegation from Alexandria to the Fatimids had to be dangerous. No telling how the Isma’ili fanatics might treat those they consider heretics to the true faith. She imagined they might be kinder to Christians and Jews as complete outsiders to the faith.

Yasmina thought of the governor’s daughter, Badroul, that Suffar wanted to marry his son. She had to be seventeen by then, or near enough. Old enough to marry, but when Badroul was fourteen, she was madly in love with Ala al-Din, or as she called him, Aladdin, the guy with the lamp and the genie. She was just wondering if the girl was holding out against Suffar’s son when she caught sight of al-Din himself, shuffling at the back of the crowd.

“Apparently being a rich young man is not enough to keep you out of trouble when the governor gets an idea in his head,” Aisha whispered, directing her voice to Yasmina’s ears alone. Unfortunately, Yasmina did not have that same talent, so she had to swallow her response, or when Suffar puts the idea into the governor’s head.

“Child,” the Mahdi’s wife got her attention and was never kind to her. “Do you recognize any of these Alexandrians?”

Yasmina nodded. “Yes Grandmother. The speaker is one of the governor’s chief advisors. It must be a serious proposition they have in mind.”

“Yasmina,” al-Hakim’s mother was always nice. “You should not worry about such things at your age. You should be thinking of having a family.”

Yasmina lowered her head and played her part well. “Yes Mother. I think of it all the time, but al-Hakim is not very cooperative. It must be me.” She sighed to add just the right touch, hopefully without overdoing it.

Al-Qa’im’s wife gently stroked the back of Yasmina’s hair and cooed. Al-Mahdi’s wife clicked her tongue in disgust and said, “No, child. It isn’t you.”

When the delegation from Alexandria left the room, Yasmina and Aisha excused themselves and left. Yasmina spoke when they were alone again. “We have to find out what al-Hakim is doing and soon.”

“What are you thinking?” Aisha asked.

“I’m thinking I need to leave this place if I want to live. Kirstie has a three-year-old, but I will never have a baby with al-Hakim, and time is running out.”

“I spoke with your loyal retainer al-Rahim just yesterday. He got himself assigned to the stables with just that in mind.”

“Good,” Yasmina said, before she added. “I would like to have a son.”

“But first you need a husband,” Aisha countered.

“I don’t know. Kirstie has managed pretty well, though technically I suppose Kare counts.” She shook her head and changed her mind. “She needs to divorce him,” she said, without explaining.

Kirstie

Soren turned three in 903 when Kirstie finally admitted there was nothing she could do. Kare was determined have his cake and eat it too, which was a terrible cliché, but to the point. He expected her to be the good and submissive wife who let him dally in any direction he wanted. But that was not Kirstie, and he knew it. Things came to a head when she caught him trying to take some of her grain and carded wool. She had set it aside to go to market, and he, with three of his crew got caught with their hands full. He swore he needed it for his trading expedition, and he would bring her the proceeds. She said he already owed her thirty pieces of silver, so she did not trust him. He hit Soren. She prepared herself to kill him right then and there, but he and his crew members ran off while she made sure Soren was all right.

Kirstie cried for most of the rest of the day. Inga and Buttercup came in the afternoon and Inga was willing to wait until Kirstie got ready to talk about it, but Buttercup did not have the patience. She pressed the issue.

“I tried,” Kirstie said. “I really tried, but Kare is just impossible.” Kirstie felt like a failure, and though she knew that was not true she still felt that way. Some consolation was Yasmina urging her to divorce the jerk.

“You make me all weepy,” Buttercup said. “You need to be happy, soon. I think you will have happy soon.” Buttercup said through her own tears. Inga and Kirstie looked at each other like they had no idea what Buttercup might be talking about, but both knew not to question too closely the little prophetic-type utterances the little ones sometimes said. Often, they stretched the limits of what could be called coincidence. In this case, though, Kirstie and Inga understood there was no point in questioning Buttercup about what she meant because the fairy would have simply said, “I have no idea. I don’t know why I said that.” Assuming she even remembered saying that.

“I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthing babies.” Kirstie mumbled to herself. “We need to go,” she said and picked up her three-year-old, heavy as he was, and put him in her backpack. She had her adrenalin pumping when she started toward town. She called to Yrsa and Alm, and they caught up. She stopped briefly at the place of the Witcher Women. She found Mother Vrya waiting for her. When they all got to town, they found Captain Rune and Captain Harrold in the big house discussing the situation concerning Nidaros, where Strindlos seemed to be bleeding people. Rune was saying he and his crew would probably move there soon enough. Harrold said he would stay with Kerga because some of his men lived up by the Varnes River and saw no need to move from their good land.

“I want a divorce,” Kirstie said, without any preliminaries, interrupting everyone.

Mother Vrya nodded. Kerga and Harrold did not look surprised. Rune asked what happened.

It took about ten minutes to explain about catching Kare and his crew members trying to steal her goods for market. Kirstie yelled that her farm and the properties she bought and the produce from all of it was hers, not her husband’s, and he had no claim on her possessions. And besides that, he owed her thirty pieces of silver for selling her thralls without her permission.

“He hit me once, and he will never do that again. If he does, I will kill him. Only fair to let you know in advance. But now, he hit my son. I tried my best to be a good wife to him, but he is unfaithful, a thief, and a greedy useless excuse for a human being. God willing, he will sail off and never come back.”

“He has done the sailing off part,” Harrold said and showed a small smile. Harrold was responsible for the marriage. He clearly wanted to get even for her defense of Lindisfarne and seemed happy she suffered so much because of it.

Kirstie took a breath and apologized for interrupting their meeting. She repeated herself in a calmer voice. “I want a divorce.”

“No problem,” Chief Kerga responded to her apology. “We were not speaking of important things. We were just waiting.”

 “There is a new sail on the horizon,” Rune said. “And Jarl appears to be escorting the ship.”

“We must go see,” Mother Vrya said.

Medieval 6: K and Y 3 Helpful Decisions, part 1 of 2

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Inga, and the disguised elf Lonn led the group of thralls and possible tenant farmers. “I acted as the go-between, if you don’t mind,” Inga said, as she came to stand on one side of Kirstie. Yrsa and Alm stood on her other side. Lonn started with the introductions.

The first couple, an older couple had a sixteen-year-old boy who did not appear to be the shiniest apple in the bin. “They are from Sula, an inland village that was attacked by the Jamts in that year. They have not had good fortune in that place and thought the new village on the Nid River might give them a fresh start. My thinking was they would do well on the far property next to the long field. The woman can keep the garden, the men can plant the small fields on that property, and the boy can keep the sheep where most of that land is better suited to pasturage.”

The second couple was a young couple with a two-year-old baby girl. “They are from Lundar on the Gaul River, again an inland village where the men feel no need to go to sea or go to war. Their story is simpler. They are the younger ones in big families. There is only so much arable land in that place, and though the dowry is small, they hoped to find a place of their own in the new town. I believe they will do well here on the near property where the land is better for crops. They might keep a few cows for the milk if they choose to have a big family of their own.”

The young mother stepped up. “Oh, Lady. I have seen the home. It is like a dream come true.”

Kirstie looked serious and spoke without any sense of jesting. “My husband is captain of a longship and a hard man given to talk down on those he considers beneath him. As long as you don’t rile him, you should be fine.” she let that thought sit for a minute in case one or both couples decided to back out. Lord Amber took the silence to step in.

“I have drawn up contracts. Since you own the properties, not your husband, the tenants will be responsible to you alone. The agreement explains how after so many years of good service the land can become their property. Meanwhile, they have full use of the land and house as long as they remain tenants in good standing. Trust me.” He said that last to Kirstie since he knew she had not read the agreements. She signed everything. When the couples made their mark, because they were unable to read or write, Kirstie, much to her surprise, received five silver pieces from each, and they smiled about it.

“Oh Lady. I just know working for you will be wonderful. You need not worry. We will work hard and do a good job. You’ll see.”

“Your name?” Kirstie asked because the introductions went by too fast.

“Tove,” the girl said.

“Tove,” Kirstie said the name. “And Helga.” She pointed to the older woman in the first couple, who nodded. “It is my intention to stay home for many years to come, but you should know, I am a shield maiden and a navigator. The time may come when I may have to go to sea maybe for months, or even a year or longer. In that case, Inga, our Volva will watch over the properties, and Yrsa here will run the farm and the properties. Or if Yrsa chooses to sail with me, Alm will be your boss. Under no circumstances will you work for my husband.”

“And your children?” Tove asked.

“I have only a son, but if it is children, they will stay with my friend Hilda while I am away.”

“Oh,” Tove looked disappointed and her husband, which Kirstie thought was Sven, spoke on her behalf.

“My wife loves children. She wants to have another right away.”

Kirstie, having just survived childbirth, thought presently that one was enough. “And these last two?” Kirstie said to change the subject.

“Gustavs and Thomas,” Lonn said. “Gustavs is the elder. He is from Latvia in the east. Thomas’ heritage is from Strathclyde in the west, but he has been a thrall since birth. Gustavs worked a farm in the north where the old owner died, and the son got killed in the attack on Howick. The old woman could not afford to keep him. Thomas was second generation in service to a family that fell afoul to the king. They had to sell some thralls to meet the king’s demands. I will also say, the woman of the house was sorry to see Thomas go. He was a good and faithful worker.

“I will do a good job for you,” Thomas said.

Kirstie acknowledged his pledge but turned to Gustavs. “I was there. I told Ulf and Odger to leave Howick alone, but they were stubborn.”

Gustavs nodded, having already heard that she was a shield maiden, before his eyes got suddenly big. “You were the woman who stood alone and faced down eight ships of men before the abbey of Lindisfarne. I heard the story.”

“And you disapprove?”

“The opposite. I am third generation Christian.”

Kirstie pulled out her little wooden cross and turned back to Lord Amber. He answered her before she could ask the question. “I took a small portion of your money from the hollow of the tree. I knew it was your desire to run the farm yourself and not depend on your friends, so I had people look for suitable help as they looked for suitable tenants.”

“Thank you,” she said, and pointed to Fiona’s house. “You may wish to fix it up a bit and rearrange things a bit, but that will be your quarters.”

“Just so you know,” Lord Amber continued. “These men are yours and work for you. They are like this farm, your property. Your husband has no claim on them, and he should not have been allowed to sell Fiona and the boys. They were not his to sell without your permission. You see, he waited until you were ready to go into labor to make the sale and took all the money to pay for his ship. You could force a claim on his ship if you have a mind to do so.”

Kirstie would have to think about that. “For now, let us begin on a good note. Welcome to all of you. May your days here be filled with joy and happiness. Now, I am tired, and my son needs to nurse.” She stood and went into the house hoping that everything would work out well.

~~~*~~~

By the time Kare came back from his maiden voyage, all three properties were being well run and productive. Kare began to count up what he could gather for trade goods, but Kirstie shot down that idea first thing. “These are not your properties. These are not your tenants and not your thralls. And you owe me thirty pieces of silver for Fiona and the boys.”

“I didn’t get that much,” Kare protested.

“You owe me thirty pieces of silver,” Kirstie repeated.

Kare looked at his son but did not touch him. He looked at Kirstie and she saw the look in his eyes. He wanted to hit her, but he thought better of it. He bellowed, “You are my wife.”

“I am not your thrall.”

Kare thundered and threw a chair across the room, breaking one leg against the wall, and he stomped out and stayed away for a week.

When he came home, Kirstie softened a little and honestly still tried to make it work, but it did not take much to set him off. Over the next three years, Kare stayed home about a third of the time. A third of the time he spent sailing off to who knew where. Roughly a third of the time he spent at Nidaros.

Kirstie heard that Kare bought a home in Nidaros and moved his girlfriend Randi into the place. She also heard he started hanging out with another girl named Thurid. Kirstie never threw their names in Kare’s face, though she was tempted often enough. Kirstie tried to make it work, but honestly, it got to where it did not take much to set her off either.

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

MONDAY

Yasmina has some thoughts about marriage and children, and Kirstie wants a divorce. Until then, Happy Reading

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Kirstie

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

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

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

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

~~~*~~~

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

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

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

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

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

~~~*~~~

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

“Have you heard from Liv?”

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

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

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

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

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

~~~*~~~

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not trouble,” Daphne insisted.

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

“But it needs more salt,” Daphne said.

“It has too much salt,” Buttercup countered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Medieval 6: K and Y 1 Married Life, part 3 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Yasmina

After 914 A. D. The Hejaz and North Africa

Kairos 105 Yasmina, Princess of Mecca and Medina

Yasmina crawled into her chair at the table and faced al-Hakim. She moved her knight and said, “Check.”

“You are very good at this game. I don’t know why I play it with you.”

‘Because you don’t want to do other things.” she answered. “That is okay. I accept that, but you know we must spend one day and one night together each week or your parents and grandparents will start asking questions. I would not know what to say to your grandfather, the Caliph of all the Fatimid Empire.” she smiled at that description. “Questions would not work out well for either of us.”

Al-Hakim huffed and moved his king. He understood. “You would become a plaything for my brother, al-Mansur, and I would not like to see that happen.”

Yasmina smiled as she moved her queen and said “Check. You like me?”

Al-Hakim lifted his eyes from the game to look at her. “You know I do. You are a great sister, and as long as you are willing to accept me as your brother, even as you suggested in the beginning. Yes, as brother and sister rather than husband and wife, I have found real affection for you.”

Yasmina gushed. “I am glad. I’m not at all ready for a husband, but I always wanted a brother so I could beat him in games and tease him about his girlfriends, or boyfriends as the case may be.”

He moved his king again and frowned, touching her queen as he looked around the board trying to find a way out. “Just like a woman to back a man into a trap.”

“Be honest. We both got trapped, but you tried at first, so I am not a virgin,” Yasmina said seriously. “Still being a virgin would have raised far too many questions for both of us.” he nodded, and she finished her thought. “Did I tell you how good and brave it was of you to do that?”

“Many times,” he said. “I know my mother and grandmother checked. It might have been better, though, if you became pregnant.”

“No,” she protested. “You would have put me away and we never would have become friends, like brother and sister.”

He agreed with that. She was the first person in his life who cared for him for who he was and did not judge him or make him feel wrong and dirty. “I don’t know if I can do that again,” he admitted.

“Maybe someday when we are older, we can figure something out,” she touched his hand briefly as a sign of her own affection and he nodded to her, so she changed the subject. “So, how is Abdallah? I suppose after all this time he has adjusted to spending one night alone in the fac-tUry.” She deliberately mispronounced the word.

“Fac-tOry,” he said with some exasperation.

“Of course,” she responded. “I keep forgetting. You know, it might help if I knew what you were doing out there in secret-land. Maybe I could remember better.”

Al-Hakim stared at her while she put on her “Hi, I’m just a stupid little girl face.” It made him grin.

“Maybe someday,” he said.

Yasmina huffed like any girl at not getting what she wanted. She moved her other horse and said, “Checkmate.” He had to stare at the board for a minute before he shrugged, and she began to pick up the pieces to put them away.

Al-Hakim stood and stretched. “I have to go,” he said through his yawn and grabbed his cloak. “I have to check on things at the fac-tUry.”

Yasmina pouted. “Now, don’t start picking on me,” she said before she smiled and followed him to the door. He stepped out and stopped. She reached up and kissed his cheek while he reached down to squeeze her butt cheek. It was their routine in front of the guards and whatever women might be in the area. He marched off down the way. She kept smiling until she got her door closed. Then she shook her head and mumbled softly to herself, “Something wrong with that boy.”

“I agree,” Aisha said as she came in from her little room next door, having heard the soft mumble with her good elf ears.

“You look older,” Yasmina responded. “Al-Mansur bothering you again?”

Aisha nodded. “I have tried to make myself look appropriately old enough to be your long-time maid and guardian and old enough to keep the younger men from getting any ideas. It doesn’t work on al-Mansur.”

“He might like an older woman,” Yasmina teased.

“A young bull. He likes all women. He isn’t picky,” she responded.

Yasmina understood as she went to the table and finished picking up the game to put it away while Aisha straightened the bed cloths. Again, Yasmina changed the subject. “I would sure like to know what they are doing in what al-Hakim calls his factory. We see the metal brought in and I know they are smelting something. Also lumber and wagon loads of various raw materials that I can’t get close enough to identify. I have a bad feeling about it.”

“As do I,” Aisha agreed as there came a knock on the door.

“Come,” Yasmina raised her voice.

The imp wife Camela came in with a “Good morning.” She was well disguised as an old lady and was followed by three maids carrying trays which they set on the table before they left. When the door closed, Camela had something more to say. “Breakfast. I thought you might need a bite to eat after a strenuous night of doing nothing.”

Yasmina thought it looked like enough food for an army. “Not true,” she protested. “He cuddles in the night. If he had any interest at all, he would make a good husband. Certainly, better then Kare the jerk.”

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MONDAY

Kirstie and Kare argue. Kirstie is pregnant and Kare looks for the money Kirstie has hidden away. Then Kare goes one step too far and moves out. Until Monday, Happy Reading

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