Kairos

R5 Greta: Birthday Girl, part 2 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

By the time Greta got home, her attention turned back to her tasks.  She needed to sew the tear in her little brother’s pants.  This was not the first time she had to sew it, but Mama said the way he kept growing, he would need new pants soon enough. They needed to make the old ones last as long as possible.

Greta pricked her finger with the needle.  She made no sound, but tasted the blood when her finger jumped to her mouth.  She would be seventeen in only two more days, and she missed her father and her older brother, Bragi.  Father went to the council in Ravenshold and he said that Bragi, nearly twenty, could go as long as he kept his mouth shut.  The council got called to elect a new high chief, but Papa had been gone three weeks and the people could not imagine what might be taking so long—unless there was war talk.  That talk had been bandied about for some six years, ever since the people found out that Hadrian died and Rome had a new emperor in Antonius Pius.  No one, however, had spoken such words seriously. For one, there had been plenty of rebellious days since Trajan conquered the land some forty years earlier.  The last time, however, the people had been mauled so badly, some wondered if Ravenshold would ever recover.  And then, the last high chief would hear none of the rebellious talk, so people kept their opinions in check.  Now, with the ascension of a new high chief, Greta feared that might change.  Some people seemed convinced that only war talk could delay the council so much, and they were beginning to fear that the Romans might find out.

Greta did her bit. She learned that Lord Darius was escorting this Marcus to the capitol.  Unfortunately, they had left within an hour of her encounter, so there was not much more she could learn.  And she still did not know who this Marcus might be.

Greta mended Hansel’s pants and caught him as he came bounding into the house.  “Hansel.”  She stopped him.  “Try these on.”

“Not now, Greta,” he protested.  “The gang is waiting.”

“This will only take a minute,” she insisted and held the pants out to him.

Hansel rolled his eyes and huffed, but he dropped his one pair of pants to try on the others. “You will make a great mother someday,” he said, in his most annoying voice.  Greta imagined it was the worst insult he could think of.

“Thanks.” Greta took it as a compliment, and felt rather pleased with herself, as she sat down to check the stitching.

After another huff, Hansel spoke again in his most serious voice.  “Sis.”  Greta knew it was serious because he never called her that unless he wanted to lean heavily on the familial relationship.   “Could you maybe call me Hans and stop calling me Hansel?  It’s embarrassing.”

Greta smiled. “Mama will never stop calling you Hansel,” she said, and it was true.

“I know.” He understood.  “But it’s different for grown-ups.  You expect that kind of thing.”

“Why is it different?”  She teased a little.  “I’ll be seventeen day after tomorrow and that is practically all grown up.”

“And I’ll be fourteen in three weeks,” he said in a loud and exasperated voice.  “Please, Sis.  It makes a difference when it is someone who is close, I said, close to your own age.”

Greta stared at him for a moment. He had such puppy-dog pleading in his eyes it made her want to hug and squeeze him like she did when she was seven and he was four. Time seemed frozen in that moment. He waited ever so patiently for her response, and she loved him so dearly.

“All right,” she said to his relief.  She handed back the pants he had been wearing and took back her work.  “I will try to remember, Hans.”  She had to say it out loud because it sounded so strange to her ears.

“Thanks Greta. Pact?”

“Pact,” Greta said and she spit on her first two fingers while he spat on his.  They touched fingertips.

“And you will be a great Mama someday,” Hans said.  This time he meant it as a compliment.

Greta smiled. “You just be a great Hans, and everyone will be happy.”

“I will,” he spoke again in his flippant, teenage voice.  He let out a shout as he burst out of the door to join his friends.

But Greta could not be entirely happy.  She would turn seventeen and her Papa would not be there.

###

When that special morning came, Greta felt determined to make sure someone knew it was her birthday.  She had a certain someone in mind and because of that, she kissed Mama good-morning, had a hurried breakfast, kissed a sleepy headed Hansel, and left.  Hans, she corrected herself, as she slipped on her red cloak and went out the door.

“Greta.” She heard the voice but did not stop. “Greta, wait up.”  Greta stopped and frowned.  Vanesca and Yanda caught her; the ones she sometimes secretly, though not unkindly, thought of as Bubblehead and the Village Vegetable.

“Where are you going so early?” Vanesca asked.

“Market.” Greta gave a one word answer.  She turned and resumed her walk as the girls came up alongside.

“Going to see Drakka?”  Vanesca prodded.

Greta’s frown deepened.  “No,” she said.  “Mama wants some warm muffins and eggs that aren’t all picked over and cracked.”

Vanesca nodded to Yanda.  “She’s going to visit Drakka.”  The words were matter-of-fact.

“No,” Greta protested.  She pulled up the hood of her red cloak while she tried to think of something to prove her case.  “I am going to buy some sausages.”  It was the most outlandish thing she could think of.  Naturally, she had no money with her.  All she had was her basket, and as she thought of it, she was not sure her family had any money at all.  It did not matter.  Greta had made up her mind.  She would get some sausages.  Vanesca, however, took Greta’s outlandish statement as confirmation of her delusion.

“Oh, Drakka, definitely, and it must be important.”  Vanesca nudged Greta in the side.

Yanda’s words came from a half-step behind.  “Why would you visit the blacksmith’s son?” she asked.

Greta and Vanesca came to a complete stop.  Yanda bumped into them before she stopped herself.  The girls gave Yanda a look before Vanesca spoke.  “I’ll explain it to you when you are older,” she said, and Yanda screwed up her face.  They could almost see the water wheel working overtime, trying to pull the water all the way to the top.

“But I am older,” Yanda said.  “I’m eighteen and you and Greta are only sixteen.”

“I’m seventeen today.”  Greta smiled and turned to Vanesca.  “It’s my birthday.”  She said that to suggest that this was the real reason for her early trip to the market and for her sausage buying.  Vanesca did not quite buy it, but she said, “Happy birthday,” and they kissed like sisters.

“Ah!”  Yanda got excited.  “We have to get sweet sausage and some of those little cakes at the bakers.”

“Careful Yanda.” Greta spoke over her shoulder. “You will be eighteen and weigh a hundred stone.”

“What’s wrong with that?”  Yanda asked, and in some strange way it seemed a reasonable question.

R5 Greta: Birthday Girl, part 1 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

It was one of those blustery spring days when the wind grabs everything it can lift and scurries it half way across the village before it can be caught.  Greta purposefully braided her hair on both sides, tied both braids off with her heaviest ties, and pulled them in front just to keep her hair from whipping into her face and eyes with every turn of the wind.  That particular spring day was also wet and heavy from recent spring rains, so she pulled her dress up at times and watched where she put her foot to avoid the puddles and piles of mud.  It all made for very slow progress.

Even that early in the morning, there were others in the village square and the signs and sounds of life were all around.  Several horses paraded across the road on their way to hillside pastures, and several Romans grunted and groaned in some kind of physical exercise at the far end of the square, beyond the fountain.  Greta, though sixteen, felt sure the horses were more interesting than a group of sweaty soldiers.  She got upset when the wind caught her scarf and carried it right into the midst of the Romans.  She felt more unhappy with what she heard when she walked carefully from the fountain to retrieve her property.

“Hey, hey.” A man spoke and pointed and the two wrestlers stopped grunting to stand and watch her progress.  Greta felt glad that at least they had modest cloth coverings and did not wrestle in the naked Greek style.

“Here comes one now, Lord Darius.  She is not the most beautiful I have seen, but more than just pleasant to look at. Nice Tits.  Good butt.  I bet she squeals in bed.”

“Marcus!”  It felt hard to tell if Lord Darius was offended or just pretending.

“What?” Marcus defended himself.  “Hardly one of these barbarians knows a smattering of Greek.  I am sure none of them knows any Latin at all.”

“That may be,” Lord Darius responded.  “But that is still no excuse to be crude.  This is a young woman worthy of respect.  Note the downcast eyes, demure in maidenly virtue.  A virgin, I’ll bet.  See the slim waist of a youth not yet fully mature, and yet the hips are well rounded, awaiting only a child to carry, and the breasts are full and firm, awaiting the child’s cry to suckle him with the milk of life.”

“Waaa!”  One of the men in the crowd spoke up and most of the rest snickered.

Marcus had a grin on his face when he rebutted his friend.  “I say her downcast eyes are because she knows her place in the presence of her master and she knows where her pleasure lies should she please him. Her ample breasts are waiting her lover’s caress, and her slim waist and hips are surely designed to be a handle for a man’s hands.  Note the lips beneath the small, sharp nose, how full and thick and red they are. They await only her lover’s kiss to remove the pout so seductively formed there.  And the twists in her braids that adorn her golden hair, they say, tell how many lovers she has taken to her bed.”

“I’ve heard it tells how old she is,” Darius retorted.  “Nothing more.”

“Women lie about such things,” Marcus responded, still smiling.  “You can’t trust the braids.  Besides, I like my version better.”

Greta arrived and stopped.  Her eyes still looked down because she had them focused on her scarf which sat under Marcus’ feet, and she wondered how hard she would have to kick the man to get him to move.  Lord Darius put his hand to her chin and gently lifted her head to look into her light brown eyes.  Darius’ eyes were Roman dark, but his hair looked nearly light enough to pass for one of the people.

“What can we do for you, maiden?” Darius asked, in his best Dacian.

“Both of you poets lack grace,” Greta responded in perfect Latin.  “Though what you say, Lord Darius, may be nearer to the truth. My eyes were downcast, however, to avoid stepping in something unseemly, and otherwise I am simply waiting for your crude friend to get his fat foot off my scarf.”

Darien let go and he and the others present laughed, loud.  Marcus turned sunburn red, looked down and jumped back rather awkwardly.  He and Greta both began to reach for the scarf, but Greta pulled up sharply, not wanting to knock heads with the man.  Marcus brushed off the scarf and handed it over, still red, though the laughter had subsided.

“Pardon, m’lady.” Marcus spoke most humbly.  “It appears as if I have been clumsy in more ways than one this morning.”

“Thank you.” Greta spoke out of courtesy, but then she could not help herself.  “You big oaf.”

The men snickered again, but Greta turned toward Lord Darius.  “My Lord.”  She curtsied a bit.  It felt appropriate.  Lord Darius was the centurion and commander of the little troop that regularly camped at Boarshag, her home.  Besides that, he was reported to be a good man, never harsh with the people, and he kept his soldiers in line.  Greta appreciated that.

“My lady.” Lord Darius gave a slight bow and grinned, deeply.  Greta turned, then and lifted her dress above the mud, revealing her ankles, though she knew it would get a reaction from the men.  She kind of wanted a reaction, and she was not disappointed when one man whistled. It got cut off quickly by an, “Ow!” Greta did not know if Marcus or Darius hit the man, nor did she care.  She did glimpse Marcus slap Darius on the shoulder and heard what he said, his volume probably due to his embarrassment.

“Live and learn, eh Darius?”

“Yes, my lord.” Darius answered, and suddenly Greta wondered who this Marcus—this Lord Marcus might be.  He was certainly no ordinary soldier.  One recently arrived from Rome?  He seemed too young to be a high dignitary.

Boarshag, called Tibiscum by the Romans, was a small but important village on the Tibuscus River.  It rested on the main road half way between the Danube and the capital of Dacia at Ravenshold, a place the Romans called Ulpia Traiana.  On the maps the capital got called Sarmizegetusa, but no one locally, including the Romans, called it that, because the true Sarmizegetusa, the old capital of Free Dacia, was thirty miles away and razed to the ground by Trajan and his legions.  So, it became Ulpia Traiana to the Romans, but mostly it was Ravenshold.

The main road from the Danube wandered three days through the valley and into the lowland hills where it passed through rich fields of grain and luxurious pasturelands. It wandered, a very non-Roman road, even if it had been paved after the Roman style.  After that, the road began to climb, sometimes going around but often going over the low hills, three more days to Boarshag.  The fields around Boarshag were not nearly as rich and their pastures were rock-strewn, yet Greta had a good life, and in most years they had more than enough to spare; a reality not missed by the Roman tax collectors.

Above Boarshag, the road continued due east for two miles where it came face to face with the primeval forest.  The old Dacian road then turned abruptly south, as if the forest presented an impenetrable wall, and there followed roughly a seven-day arc along the main branch of the Tibiscus River south to east and north, to Ravenshold.  No one went into the old growth forest, much less through it. They said if you could walk due east, it would cut the trip to Ravenshold down to three days.  Some said two, but no one went into the woods to test it out.

The most recent story told about a century of Romans in the days of the last rebellion, when Hadrian was emperor.  The century, now often called a whole legion, went into the woods to make a swift, surprise attack on the capitol from an unexpected quarter, to catch the rebels unprepared and make a quick end to the rebellion.  The Romans never came out the other side, and the story said the Romans continued to wander aimlessly among the trees.  There were, of course, other stories about witches, goblins, ghosts and all sorts of devils who inhabited the darkness under the canopy.  Some were said to drink blood or feed on human flesh, or on the soul, or change luckless people into stone or stumps or mad animals of the darkness such as wolves or bears.  Though Greta would be seventeen in two days and no longer a child to be frightened by such stories, she figured even an ordinary forest full or ordinary wolves, bears, and perhaps even a few big cats would be dangerous enough for ordinary folks.  No one went into the forest.

R5 Greta: Over the River and Through the Woods

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Monday (Tuesday and Wednesday)

8 AM EST, for the next 23 weeks

From the book: R5) Rome Too Far

The Story of Greta, wise woman of the Dacians in the days of Roman rule.

Greta is a middle child stuck at home in Boarshag, with her younger brother, who wants to be called Hans rather than the childish name of Hansel.  Meanwhile, her older brother gets to be with her father and all the men in the capitol of Ravenshold.  The high chief of Dacia has died, and the men need to select a new high chief, with Roman approval, of course.  Sadly, Greta, as a woman, even as the wise woman in training, has no say in that matter.  The men will argue for weeks, as only men can do so well.

Since Greta inherited some of her grandmother’s sixth sense, she got selected at a young age, by old Mother Hulda, to train as the Woman of the Ways for all of Dacia.  There is so much to learn.  Greta, not one of the beautiful people, figures she will have a full life learning and working for her people.  But then her father comes home.  He has been elected to be the new high chief, and suddenly, Greta is betrothed, and to the enemy, a Roman officer.  And sadly, she has no say in that matter, either.

That much alone would make any young woman’s life complicated and difficult.  But the life of the Kairos is never so normal.

Decades ago, in the days of the Emperor Trajan, there were guns–yes, guns and ammunition that the Kairos destroyed but for one caravan that never made it across the Adriatic.  Now, the wind of Dacia smells of rebellion.  Greta’s Roman officer must ride to confront the rebels.  Greta, with terribly mixed feelings, must walk the short-cut to Ravenshold.  She must cross the haunted forest.  Of course the forest is haunted.  And she must find the guns and destroy them before the rebels find them and turn a rebellion into a slaughter.

Worse, the rebellion appears to be led by the Dacian war chief’s mother, a true wicked witch whose power dwarfs Greta and her small magic.  And thousands of Germanic Quadi sit on the border, just waiting for an excuse to overrun the province.

There are fairy tales within this fairy tale of an adventure.  Enjoy.  Welcome to the forest, and Happy Reading.

 

*

Kairos Tales Preview

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Beginning Monday, April 2, 2018

If you have read some of the Avalon stories that have appeared on this blog (available at your favorite e-book retailer), I thought it only fair that you get a look at several of the actual Kairos stories in their full form.  If you have not read any of the Avalon stories that have appeared on this website, that’s okay.  The stories here are self-contained with one exception:

The books (not presently available to buy) weave the partner stories like a fine tapestry.  For this blog, however, I have pulled the stories apart so you can read a whole Festuscato story, for example, without having to flip back and forth to Gerraint and Greta, or as the case may be, to Gerraint and Margueritte.  Hopefully, that will work well.  You can just ignore the rare references to what is happening in those other stories, knowing, that like the Kairos, you will get there, eventually.

This series of stories will begin posting on Monday, April 2, 2018, just in case you want to go into the archives and read from the beginning.  All weeks will have posts on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday = 3 individual, easily and quickly read posts per week to carry the story forward.  A good way to start the day.

 

Kairos

A Greek word meaning opportunity, the right time, a propitious moment, event time, or as the Kairos defines it, history.  It is the name the old titan Cronos gave to the polyploidy being he struggled to bring to life as a complete male and a complete female.  Knowing his time would soon be over, he imagined this complex “one being in two persons” would be his replacement.  When Cronos died at the hands of his children, the mere counting of days ended, and with the birth of the Kairos, history—event time began.

The Kairos might be called the god of history, though the Kairos prefers the term watcher over history, because unlike the gods of old, he or she is not immortal.  Instead, the Kairos normally lives as an ordinary mortal, male or female, sort of taking turns, and as such is subject to all the frailties of the species, while at the same time, being captured by the very events where he or she must inevitably act.

Not allowed to fully die, the being or spirit of the Kairos is taken at death and reborn somewhere else on the planet, where some important historical juncture looms on the horizon.  On bad days, the Kairos complains about being no more than a cosmic experiment in time and genetics.  On good days, the Kairos averts a disaster.

Taken out of the hands of the most ancient gods, and placed in the hands of persons unknown; it is her or his job to see that history turns out the way it has been written.  With access to future lifetimes, as well as past lives, the Kairos knows the way things are supposed to go.  But getting it to turn out right is not ever easy.  Fortunately, the Kairos is able to borrow lives from the past or future that often have the skills and knowledge to meet whatever might arise.  No guarantees, of course.

Stories

Kairos and Rome 5: Rome Too Far

R5) Festuscato: The Last Imperial Governor of Britannia.   9 weeks of posts

Festuscato Cassius Agitus is both a wealthy Roman senator and a cad.  Because of his indiscretions, the emperor’s mother has him sent to the abandoned province of Britannia to bring order out of chaos.  The people there appealed for help.  He can’t end the fighting.  Thus is the age.  But maybe he can bring the Gaelic people together long enough to face the real threats: Angles, Saxons, Jutes, Picts, Irish, and especially, the Huns.

R5) Greta: Over the River and Through the Woods.   23 weeks of posts

Greta, wise woman of Dacia under Roman rule, must go through the haunted, forbidden forest to reach the capitol in time to stop the rebellion.  The Masters buried some hundred-year-old rifles in that area, and Rome and all of history will be in danger if they are dug up; especially if they are discovered by the wicked witch.

R5) Gerraint: In the Days of Arthur, Pendragon.   10 weeks of posts

Gerraint, son of Erbin, with Percival and Arthur, romp through the early days of Arthur, Pendragon.  They fight off a rebellion and beat back the Saxons, Irish, Jutes and Picts, and rescue Gwynyvar.  Sadly, as the boys become men, the fighting never seems to stop.  And Meryddin, a fly in the ointment, appears to be on his own agenda.

Kairos and Rome 6: The Power of Persuasion

R6) Gerraint: Love and War   12 weeks of posts

Gerrain, son of Erbin wins Enid, his love before he is called to the continent to help Brittany stay free.  After a time of torment, Gerraint and Arthur continue to fight off Picts, Scots, Danes, and Angles, before the final battle of Mount Badon.  And still, Meryddin has his own agenda working, subversive in the background.

R6) Festuscato: The Dragon in Ireland   10 weeks of posts

Festuscato gets roped into providing safe passage for Patrick to get to Ireland.  Festuscato wants to see Patrick get started on a good foot, but that isn’t easy when the so-called king of the Irish is against you, not to mention the reluctant druids, the Irish pirates, and the Saxon intruders.  The boy and his pet dragon don’t help, either.

R6) Greta: To Grandfather’s House We Go   20 weeks of posts

Greta’s ward, Berry, and her sister Fae, along with Greta’s brother and Fae’s husband go north, looking for Berry and Fae’s father to bless their marriages.  They get trapped in the land of the lost, and the shattered pieces of the old god Mithras stand against Greta when she sets herself for a rescue mission.  Soon enough, the Iranian (Mithraic) tribes in the wilderness come to knock on Dacia’s door, which doesn’t have enough strength to stand against them.  And the Roman ranks are full of Mithraites.

Kairos Medieval 3: Light in the Dark Ages

M3) Festuscato: The Halls of Hrothgar   8 weeks of posts

After seeing to the safe withdrawal of troops from Britain, Festuscato, Senator of Rome, is shipwrecked on the Danish shore.  With his strange crew in tow, he finds his way to the halls of Hrothgar where a beast called the Grendal has come like a plague on the mighty.  Festuscato leaves nothing to chance.  He sends for Beowulf, but then he has to tread lightly to keep history on track.  He knows things will turn strange as the Grendal, the creature of Abraxas, cannot be harmed by any weapon forged by man.

M3) Gerraint: The Holy Graal   13 weeks of posts

Gerraint, son of Erbin feels his days of struggle should be behind him.  All he wants is to retire to Cornwall with Enid, his love.  But when ghostly hands carry a cauldron across the round table, he knows he has to act.  Arthur deftly turns all talk to the Holy Graal, but Gerraint knows he has to stop the older men from recovering the ancient treasures of the Celts and dredging up the past.  Christendom is only a thin veneer and if Abraxas is allowed to strip that away, history might be irrevocably changed.

M3) Margueritte: The Old Way Has Gone   18 weeks of posts

In the early days of Charles Martel, Margueritte experiences everything a Medieval girl might want: fairies, ogres, a unicorn, dragons, knights to love and daring rescues.  But it is Curdwallah the hag, the devotee of Abraxas, that haunts her dreams in the dark.

Kairos Medieval 4: Saving the West

M4) Festuscato: Senator of Rome   6 weeks of posts

After years of exploring Germania and the Eastern Roman Empire, Festuscato returns to the west, to Saxony and the land of the Franks.  There isn’t much time.  The Huns are moving.  Attila has his eye on the weakened western empire, and the Roman commander in the west, General Aetius, appears stuck in Rome, preoccupied with the Vandals in Africa.

M4) Gerraint: The Last Days of Arthur   6 weeks of posts

Lancelot has taken most of the young men to Brittany, and Greater Britain appears to be falling apart.  Arthur and Gerraint go to bring him back.  They make peace with the Franks, but Lancelot will not be moved.  Upon their return, they discover that Mordred has captured Cadbury and Gwynyvar with an army of Scots, Saxons, and traitors.  The stage is set for the last battle.

M4) Margueritte: The New Way Has Come   18 weeks of posts

The god Abraxass has moved the Muslim Sorcerer to keep Margueritte occupied so the Muslim army from Iberia can invade the north.  Margueritte has to help prepare Charles Martel for that inevitable time, and she must build heavy cavalry for the Franks, virtually from scratch.  What horrors will the sorcerer do to keep Margueritte out of the picture, and will she be too late to save the west?

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

A Brief Introduction

Hopefully, you are a rational and reasonable person in search of a good story, though not necessarily willing to break ranks with the relatively dead and sterile universe in which we presently and conceptually find ourselves.  And if you are not naturally given to flights of fantasy, you may be wondering how all this began.  Where did the idea for such a complex character come from?  If the Storyteller could be interviewed, the answer might be something as follows:

“I was sitting at my desk one day at work, staring out of the window, bored out of my mind, when I had a vision.  I think that was what it was.  At the time, I could not remember having had a vision before, but to be perfectly honest, that is the only word that fits the experience.  Anyway, without warning, I found that instead of sitting at my desk, I sat cross-legged in the grass at the top of a ridge, clothed in odd, but very comfortable Roman style chain armor, and holding a sword across my lap.  The sword felt heavy, and appeared sharp, too.  It all felt weird, but the sword and armor, the grass and all was not the weirdest thing.  As I looked down at the sword in my lap, I saw some obstructions to my vision.  You see, I was a woman, a young, and beautiful woman, I knew that much, with long, light golden brown hair that looked to me almost blonde in the bright sunlight.  I backed away instantly and found myself at my desk.  It all seemed too strange for me.  Like most men, I had regular ideas about women, but being one of them was definitely not on the list.  After that I got to work.  That daydream, as I called it, was not something I wanted to think too hard about and certainly not something I wanted to dwell on.

“The very next day, I sat again at my desk, not entirely bored for a change, because I was considering a topic which I always found fascinating.  I wondered about the idea of the Trinity, and I could not figure out how God could be one God in three persons.  I was one me in one person, and I thought that was difficult enough, but then I heard a voice in my head that said, “No, you are one you in two persons.”

“What?”  I said that out loud, I think.  I looked around, but I seemed to be the only one in the office at the moment.  Everyone else went out to the field.

“Woah!”  I did say that out loud.

Now, please understand, when I said I heard a voice, I did not mean an actual, audible voice.  I meant it came as something in my mind, only it was not just me imagining a voice or thinking some thoughts to myself.  I knew the voice was somehow external, though I could not tell you exactly how I knew that.  Anyway, I said, “What do you mean, one me in two persons?”

“Male and female,” the voice said.  “It is how you were made to be, even if you are only living as one gender at a time, as far as your present consciousness is concerned.”

“Wait a minute.  Who are you?  And what do you mean one at a time?”

“Chronologically speaking, yours is the one hundred and twenty-first life you have lived.  And there are future lives you will live as well.”

“You’re mad.”  I responded, by which I meant, I’m mad.  I concluded that this boring rut of a job had finally driven me off the cliff.  Here I go, falling, over the edge, I thought.  Er, no…  I don’t like heights.  Then the voice sort of took over.

“It is time for you to learn these simple truths about yourself, your many lifetimes and your making, because soon you will begin to experience your other lifetimes.”

“What?  You mean like that woman in the suit?”  I managed to interject that much.

“You will experience far more than that.  And you will find in the course of these experiences that your lives have been lived in partnerships of two or more, but not necessarily in chronological order.  I know that may be confusing for you, especially when you experience future lifetimes; but you will do well if you simply take and record each experience as it comes.  It will all come together in the end.”

“Experience the future?  What?”

“It may be that only you and your partner with you will experience every lifetime, but that is because it is your job to record the events of your many lives.  The other lives you live call you the Storyteller.  But then, you have another job to do in all of those other lifetimes.”

“A-ha!”  I did not actually get the words in, but I thought it loud enough.  “The catch!”

“Your job is to watch over history and make sure it comes out the way it has already been written.”

“A-ha!”  I repeated, and remembered last Sunday’s hymn about God working His purposes out.  I wondered, why me?

“God is working His purposes out.”  The voice knew my thoughts.  “But as you well know, the work is always done through agents of some sort, and mostly human agents.  The Source even emptied himself at one point to take on human flesh in order to act on his own behalf.  Why should history be any different?”

I did not have a ready answer for that one.

“As you experience these other lives in partnership, you will find that still other lifetimes may temporarily break through the natural barriers of time and into the life you are currently experiencing.  Then you will have access to certain skills and knowledge.”

“Wait!”  I practically shouted.  “Why should other lives break through?  Why should I need access to skills?”

“Because there is no telling in advance what skill set or knowledge or other help you may need at a given moment.”

“What?  No telling?  Does that mean you don’t know or that you won’t tell me?”

The voice paused for a minute before it resumed speaking.  “You know full well that the universe is not the dead empty your current culture believes it to be.  The universe is full of great varieties of life.  There are powers and principalities in the universe, and some of those are ambivalent at best toward humanity and human history, and some may even want to change history to serve their own ends.  The universe is full of powers, and as you know, some of them are not very nice.”

I swallowed.  Trying to keep history on track sounded like dangerous work.  Of course, I had no idea at the time, and no frame of reference to understand just how dangerous it could get.  I did have one more question, though.  “Why me?”  I asked.  “I’m nothing special.  In fact, I would say just the opposite.  I have not exactly lived a sin free life, and more importantly, I have just about failed at everything I have ever tried to do.  I am so ordinary in that sense, it even boggles my own mind.  And besides that, I am not a great writer.  Oh, I can tell a story all right, but my writing is rather pedestrian.  Again, it is just so ordinary, you might say.   So, why me?”  I asked, but the voice did not answer. It had gone, and after a while, I decided that maybe the fact that I was so ordinary was precisely why I was chosen.  I understood that someone who already had an inflamed ego and sense of their own importance and abilities would not have been a good choice.  No, not at all.

To be sure, that very night I did begin to remember some early childhood snapshots, as I called them.  Some came from my own life, and some came from the life of the Princes who was, and apparently is, my partner in this lifetime.  She is my time access partner, which is a bit like time travel and connects me to this keeping history on track thing that I am experiencing and remembering.  After that night, things just got stranger and stranger.”

Author’s Note:

I have done my best to keep to the record of the Storyteller as written, only trying hard not to let the facts stand in the way of a good story.  For that matter, some of the facts, like names, dates, exact locations and so on have been fudged a little to protect the innocent, in some cases, but more often because it would not be good to give the Masters, or any other enemies of history an exact roadmap of the activities of the Kairos.  Basically, don’t send me any letters saying such-and-such is historically inaccurate.  It won’t do you any good.

Happy Reading

*

Elect II—18 Spring Break, part 1 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Eleven women followed Riverbend and stepped from this world to that world.  Fiona, the elf huntress was there along with eleven elf warriors, all women dressed in tall leather boots, skirts of fine chain mail and helmets that covered all but the eyes and mouth.  They carried swords, knives, spear-like lances, the inevitable bow, and wore soft green cloaks with the hood down overall.  They looked formidable, but the Amazons could hardly appreciate that fact.  They were all busy feeling sick, dizzy, and like they were dying or had already died.  Those feelings passed soon enough, but by then all eyes were turned to the tall and stately beauty of the woman who approached across the lawn of soft, green grass.  The elves dropped to their knees and lowered their eyes, but the Amazons hardly knew what to think.  Emily saw a golden light buzzing around the woman’s head, but before the woman arrived it vanished into her golden hair at the shoulder.

hween-alice-1“Welcome.”  The woman’s voice was as beautiful as her person, and what is more, she was framed by a perfectly blue sky and a magnificent castle which stood on a hill some distance away.  “I am sorry but there is nothing I can do about the transition between Earth and the Second Heavens.  Some find it rough, but the feeling passes.  Are we all here?”

Emily looked around and saw that the others were waiting for her to answer.  “Yes,” she said.  “All that are coming.”

“And it is all that were invited.”  The woman smiled and the smile was dazzling, warm and lovely.  “I hope you will have time to rest here. But I know the urgency of your task must come first.”

Jessica was feeling like she just moved from Earth to Oz.  The colors of Avalon were more colorful, somehow, than any of the colors back home.  In fact, back home was so drab by comparison she felt like she just went from black and white to color.  “The Good Witch of the North?”  Jessica could not hold back the words.

“Alice,” the woman introduced herself.  “And welcome to Wonderland.  This is the place for my little ones, where the spirits of the earth can come to rest from their labors.”

“In the Second heavens?”  Sara made her statement a question.

“Yes, Sara.  The first heaven is over the Earth as you know, and the third contains the throne of God, even as Uncle Paul wrote to the Corinthians.  There is paradise in the third heaven.  These second heavens are the place between.  Matter, energy, and even time work strangely here and it is layered like a fine French pastry so many think there are seven or more heavens here but it is really all one.”

“But—” Melissa started to speak, but Alice interrupted.

“Now, Melissa.  You above all know how Mister Hawkings postulated parallel universes.  This place does not qualify, exactly, but you surely grasp the concept.”  Alice waited for the next outburst, but the women fell silent so she spoke again.  “Well, Commander Falcon, what do you think?”

ac-war-falcon-1“I think they will likely all get killed,” A gruff male voice spoke as the golden light exited Alice’s shoulder.  It was a fairy and there were several gasps, and then several more when the fairy transformed into a full sized human.  He looked human too, with a bit of gray around his temples and in his beard, and without the pointed ears of the elves or any sign of wings; that is to say he looked ordinary if one did not count the fact that he was standing in full plate armor, golden in color and with a falcon symbol on his chest plate.

“Now Commander.  There are twenty-four of them and that is the Storyteller’s favorite number, and they will be twelve and twelve if David ever asks her.”

“As it may, my Lady.  These Women of the Watch might yet provoke a war, and as for the humans…”

“Pardon me,” Alice interrupted and stepped forward to tap each human woman gently on the forehead.  She spoke as she went.  “Normally I have no say over human affairs, but this way I may track you and recall you if you are injured or in serious trouble.”

Mindy stepped up after she was touched.  “But Zoe is a true goddess.  You could simply wipe out the rebels if you chose.”

Alice stopped and touched Emily last.  “Solve my mystery,” she said before she turned to Mindy.  “I am Alice, not Zoe right now, but as far as it goes, I believe I will let the priestess explain why Zoe holds back.”  And Alice vanished.  She simply was not there anymore.

Every eye turned on Sara, including the eyes of Commander Falcon.  Sara dropped her head and spoke slowly, but clearly.  “Because every person deserves a fair chance to repent and be forgiven.  We would not be here if the Most High wiped us out for turning our backs on him.”

“Enough.”  Commander Falcon shouted.  “Women, gather your horses and your charges.  We will create the agreed distraction, but you are on your own.”  Commander Falcon looked ready to leave, but he paused for a final word.  “Good luck,” he said and he changed back to his normal fairy size and flew off toward the castle with such speed he also appeared to vanish.

ab-war-wo-3The Amazons got swords, shields and spears of their own.  They got fairy weave clothing as well, a magical cloth that could be shaped and colored on command.  Emily told everyone to make the fairy weave into Kevlar-like vests.  She assumed the men had guns.  Sara made a long white dress and a white cloak with a fine hood instead, and the priestess would take nothing but her crook.  No one argued.

The horses were a bit of a problem.  Jessica had her own horse back home, of course, but of the others, only Sara and Melissa and the farm-girls Diane and Greta had ever ridden, and that was not much.  The rest were all city girls, more or less.  They had to force Detroit Natasha up on the beast.  The Watcher Women were assigned to ride one beside each Amazon.  Riverbend said it was to promote cohesion in the group, but she and Emily both knew it was so the elves could keep the Amazons in the saddle.

When they were finally ready, they turned their back on the distant castle and headed for the hills whose cliffs faced the sea.  Maria was the one who asked.  “What good is this?  We can’t ride our horses across the water, can we?”

“Wait,” the elf healer, Linnea who rode beside Maria spoke softly.  Maria waited, and when they passed through a gap in those hills, instead of being confronted with the sea, they found themselves on a grassy meadow that stretched into the distance for as far as they could see,

“The islands of Avalon can be reached without ever crossing the water,” Fiona explained to Jessica.  They were the hunters who rode out front, like scouts.  Jessica later said she understood completely, but none of the others understood at all except perhaps Melissa who talked about black holes and folded space and things that were even more confusing than the reality they experienced.

That afternoon they went to three or four different islands, or lands as Emily preferred to think of them.  Riverbend had explained that they were riding alongside but outside of orc territory.  In the morning, they would turn into orc lands and ride swiftly to the center where the men were.

ab-war-river-1“This way we may enter the land from an unexpected direction.  With that we might be able to get in and out before they notice and mount a defense.”

“Might,’ Emily responded.  “But what makes you think they aren’t watching us even now?”

Riverbend paused to look around.  “That may be, but in the morning Commander Falcon has proposed to intrude, however briefly, on orc land.  Our hope is he will draw all eyes to him while we dash for the center.”  Emily nodded.  She had no better suggestions.

“I would rather he draw all the spears to him,” Melissa said in her quiet voice from behind.  Emily and Riverbend turned their heads briefly and saw Melissa’s elf nodding her head without a word.

“You put those two quiet ones together,” Emily accused.  Riverbend just smiled in her elfish way.

“I won’t bite,” Sara said.

“Yes, Lady.”  That was all her elf would say except for the occasional, “No, Lady.”

Maria and Linnea were exchanging recipes for Gazpacho, whatever that was, so Mindy turned to her elf and spoke.  “My name is Mindy.”

“Yes, Mum.  I’m Arwen.  I was southern born myself, around Charleston.”  Mindy perked up.  But she would file that for later.  First she had some questions.

“So tell me how Lady Alice and Zoe could be the same person.”

“The Kairos has been reborn one hundred and twenty-one times right down since the beginning of history.  My father works in the Avalon history department.  Oh, but I am not supposed to talk about it.”

ab-war-mind-elf“Yes, I see.”  Mindy smiled.  “Interesting, though, how she can be Alice one minute and a person who lived and I suppose died thousands of years ago the next.”

“Oh, it is worse than that,” Arwen said.  “Lady Alice has not even been born yet.”

“What?”  That threw Mindy’s thoughts into confusion.

“Yes, she won’t be born for another fourteen or fifteen hundred years.  We aren’t quite sure, my father I mean, since it isn’t actually history yet.”

“She is from the future,” Amina spoke up from behind like it was an obvious fact.

“Holy Moly!”  Mindy wanted to swear.  “How does she do that?”

“Oh, I’m not supposed to talk about it,” Arwen said.  And that was the way their conversation went after that.  Mindy would ask questions and Arwen was not supposed to talk about it, with the occasional compliment that some of Mindy’s questions were tricky enough to almost be elf worthy.

When they stopped for the evening, they built a fire and laughed when they realized they knew some of the same jokes.  Linnea brought out some crackers as Fiona cut a deer for the fire.  Jessica watched as much deer cutting as she could tolerate.  Maria thought it was going to be a very slim meal until Linnea added some heated water to the crackers and they blossomed into full loaves of hot steaming, fresh baked bread.

“You know, though.  Laughing at humans is not encouraged,” Arwen admitted.

“Good to know,” Sara said, and there was silence for a time until Arwen stood up and told the story of the three dwarfs at the bottom of the well.  All present, elf and human alike, laughed so hard at the story, their sides hurt.  Even when they went to bed, there were occasional giggles that rose up here and there almost until sunrise.

Avalon: Season 4 Preface

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

The travelers came to the beginning of history on a rescue mission.  Now, in order to get home, two elves, two marines, one Gott-Druk (a Neanderthal from the far future) and three ‘Men in Black’ must follow the amulet of Avalon.  They move from one time gate to the next, through time zones that center around the many lives of the Kairos, the Traveler (in time), the Watcher (over history), a person who never lives a quiet life.

They have unlimited vitamins, elf crackers, and bullets, ride mustangs brought back from the old west, and wear fairy weave clothing that they can shape and change with a thought in order to blend into the local culture.   It helps that they can understand and be understood no matter the local language, because they inevitably have to deal with the human element, along with gods and monsters, spirits and creatures, space aliens and the great unknown.  They have to try hard not to disturb history in the process.  To be sure, all they want is to get home in one piece, but they are not the only ones lost in time.

From the Pilot Episodeavaloncover1

It was Doctor Procter who explained.

“I spent the last three hundred years studying the lives of the Kairos.  Now that we have the opportunity to walk through those lifetimes, one by one, and in order I might add, I am not going to miss that opportunity.  Isn’t that right, Mingus?”

Mingus shook his head and sighed, and in that moment everyone got a good look at the difference between Mingus, a full blood elf and the Doctor who was half-human.  The contrast was not startling but obvious.  No plain human could have eyes as big, features as sharp or fingers as thin and long.  “If you say,” Mingus muttered as he took the amulet and shook it once himself.

“What says the Navy?”  Lockhart turned to look at the two who were armed and bringing up the rear.

“I’m to follow orders,” Captain Decker frowned.

Lieutenant Harper smiled.  “I would not mind exploring a little while we have the chance.”

“Besides,” Roland spoke up while Lockhart faced front again and encouraged everyone to resume walking.  “I have a feeling the Kairos would not mind if we rooted out some of the unsavory characters that wandered into the time zones without permission.”

“Oh, that would be very dangerous.”  Alexis said it before Lincoln could, and she grinned for her husband.

“All the same…”  Roland did not finish his sentence.  He fell back to walk beside Lockhart to underline his sentiments to the man.

“Hey.”  Boston came up.  She had been straggling near the back.

“Boston, dear.”  Lockhart backed away from the elf and slipped his arm around the young woman.  “So what do you think?  Do we run as fast as we can or explore a bit and maybe confront some unsavories along the way?”

“Explore and help the Kairos clean out the time zones.  I thought that was obvious.”

“Well for the record,” Mingus said as he turned and walked backwards.  “Though it may kill me to say it, I agree with that Lincoln fellow.”

“I haven’t offered an opinion,” Lincoln said.

“No, but I can read the mind of a frightened rabbit well enough.”

“Father!”  Alexis jumped and there was some scolding in her voice.  “I vote we explore and help.”  She looked at Lockhart, and so did everyone else except the Doctor who was still playing with his amulet.

Lockhart nodded.  “Okay,” he said.  “But the number one priority is to get everyone home alive and in one piece, so when it is time to move on, we all move, no arguments.”

“You got that right,” Captain Decker mumbled.

Everyone seemed fine with that except Mingus who screwed up his face and asked, “And who decides when it is time to move on?”

“I do.”  Lockhart spoke without flinching.  The two stared at each other until Doctor Procter interrupted.

“Anyway,” he spoke as if in the middle of a sentence.  “I would not worry about hunting unsavories.  I don’t imagine it will take long before they start hunting us.”

CASTavaloncover2

Robert Lockhart, a former policeman, now assistant director of the Men in Black.  He is charged with leading this expedition through time though he has no idea how he is going to get everyone home—alive.

Boston (Mary Riley), a Massachusetts redneck, rodeo rider and technological genius who finished her PhD in electrical engineering at age 24.  Since the disappearance of Doctor Procter, she carries the amulet, a sophisticated combination electronic GPS and magic device that shows the way from one time gate to the next.  She became an elf to marry Roland, but now Roland has disappeared, and may be dead, though she refuses to think that way.

Benjamin Lincoln, a former C. I. A. office geek who keeps the database and a record of their avaloncover3journey.  He tends to worry and is not the bravest soul, but sometimes that is an asset.  His wife, Alexis, was kidnapped by her own father Mingus and dragged back to the beginning of history.  This prompted the rescue mission which got everyone stuck in the past with the time gates in the time zones as the only option to get home—the long way, as they say.

Alexis Lincoln, an elf who became human to marry Benjamin.  She retained her healing magic when she became human, but magic has its limits.  For example, it can’t make her father happy with her choices.

Mingus, father of Alexis (and Roland, making Boston his daughter-in-law) is an elder elf.  He ran the history department in Avalon for over 300 years.  He knows the time zones and the lives of the Kairos but tends to keep his opinions to himself.  And he believes his children are being invasionofmemoriesruined by so much human interaction.  He kidnapped Alexis in the first place to save her from being corrupted by the human mortals.

Captain Katie Harper, a marine whose specialty is ancient and medieval cultures and technologies.  She is torn between her duty to the marines and her desire to be part of this larger universe she is discovering.  She now carries the prototype amulet that Mingus once used to kidnap Alexis.

Major Decker, a navy seal, now a marine special operations officer who will do all he can to keep everyone alive, even if it means shooting his way back to the twenty-first century.  He is a skeptic who does not believe half of what they experience—even if he does not know what else to believe.

Elder Stow, a space traveling, technologically advanced Gott-Druk (Neanderthal) from the future who was thrown back into the past and is forced to make a truce with these ‘humans’ to join them in their journey.  He believes it is his only chance to get back to the future in one piece.

The Kairos.  But that is a different person in each time zone.

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

Avalon Season Three coming soon to an Amazon and Smashwords (Barnes and Noble, Apple ,      E-reader, etc.) near you……………………

Tomorrow, Episode 4.0 begins the season.  Happy Reading

Avalon travelers in the night

 

The Elect 22, part 4 of 4: The End

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Pierce’s knife came out and flew through the air at a terrible speed.  Emily moved to her weak left side instead of her strong side as expected, and the knife whizzed past instead of gutting her.  It cut a small slice from her right arm before it stuck fast in the old wooden roof door.  Emily thought about pulling it out, but only briefly.  It was thrown with such strength it would probably take her time to yank it free, and she had no time.  Pierce was on her and she was running to her left.

Emily kicked at Pierce’s knees, but missed.  She tried higher, but he caught her foot.  He was incredibly fast and strong, and he tossed her over the edge of the roof.  Emily barely grabbed on to the lip with her left hand, and like a high diver twisting in the air, she contorted and used her a science roof 3momentum to swing herself back up on the roof.

Pierce was right there, but she hit him and knocked his head back.  He hit her and knocked her through the air.  She landed hard against the HVAC pipe and wondered why her neck was not broken with that one punch.  Again he was right there, and this time he had a knife pulled from some hidden pocket.  Emily moved in one motion, she got up, pulled her own knife and sliced Pierce’s hand so he dropped his weapon.  He kicked out and her knife also flew free.

She kicked him, this time in the thigh.  She saw he felt it, but then he kicked back and caught her in the ribs.  It felt to her like someone smashed her with a hammer and she had to back away.  Pierce made a grab for her, but she slapped his hands away.  He was too strong and too quick to wrestle.  They traded punches, but neither landed a clean blow, and Emily knew she needed a weapon.  She made the mistake of glancing at the ground in search of one of the knives, and  Pierce caught her.  He yanked on her hand and reeled her in for an embrace.

He lifted her a bit from the ground and squeezed the air out of her already hurting ribs, but she a science roof 1managed to box his ears and slammed her elbows down, which maybe broke his collarbone.  She went for his eyes while she squirmed to bring her knees up in an effort to break free of his grip.  He buried his face in her chest, but as she boxed his ears again and pushed with her knees, he let her go.  She fell, and he hit her again which sent her rapidly to the roof where she cracked the asphalt.  She was dizzy and broken, but managed to get to her feet once more and backed off, a bit surprised that he was not on top of her.  Maybe she hurt him.  Maybe it was something else, but she breathed through her ribs and spoke.

“Pierce, I love you.”

That appeared to anger him and he rushed her.  She fought like a tigress as they traded blow after blow, but in the end Pierce got in the telling blow and Emily was knocked to her back.  She closed her eyes, involuntarily, because the sky was spinning.  She was not entirely conscious, but by chance she landed on her own knife, and her left hand reached behind her back to grab it, like her hand had a mind of its own.

Pierce came up, cut, bleeding and hurting, but he did not go for the kill.  Instead, he went to oneac pierce 5 knee and lifted Emily so she sat up at the waist.  He laid her semi-conscious head on his upright knee and found a tear in his eye, though Emily did not see it.  They heard a sound by the door.  Emily came awake at the sound of two knives whizzing through the air.  Pierce ducked so the first completely missed.  He grabbed the second in mid flight.  Then he turned his head for a second to look back at Lisa.

Emily did not hesitate.  She whipped her left hand up and drove her knife deep into Pierce’s chest.  Pierce grabbed her hair and yanked her head back to expose her neck.  He whipped Lisa’s knife around and put it to her throat.  Then he smiled deeply and dropped the knife, and the words exploded in Emily’s head.

“He knew!  He turned away on purpose.  He could have stopped her.  He knew!”

Pierce bent down and put his lips to hers.  Emily felt the kiss for a second before she felt just lips.  She wriggled free and Pierce fell to his back.

“Pierce!”  She screamed and fell on him and wept until Lisa gently pulled her off.

END

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

On Monday April 18, 2016, assuming everyone survives April 15th tax day, Avalon, season 4 will begin to post.

Each episode of the Avalon series is a complete episode, taking place at a different point in history as the travelers work their way from the distant past back to the present day.  Each episode will post over a two week period with three posts per week (occasionally two posts and a couple of times four posts in a given week)  so stay on your toes.  That’s two weeks per episode.

Avalon travelers 2

Avalon is the story of a group of travelers, three “Men in Black”, two marines, two elves and one Gott-Druk (a technologically advanced, space-faring Neanderthal) that get trapped in the deep past.  The only way home is through the Time Gates that surround the many lives of the Kairos, an unfortunate soul who is forced to be reborn every time he (or she) dies.

The Kairos, in many incarnations, remembers the past and, “remembers” the future, which is why she (or he) is concerned to make sure history turns out the way it has been recorded.  That isn’t always easy, especially with a group of twenty-first century lunkheads people stirring the mix.  As if it isn’t bad enough that the Kairos never lives a quiet life, certain other people, creatures, even nightmares have fallen into the past, and some have picked up the trail of the travelers.  Some are following them, but some are hunting them…

Avalon traveers on horseback

Avalon, Episode 4.0 through 4.12 (which is 13 episodes or a Japanese season) will post through the summer up until October.  Hopefully, come October, The Elect II, Sophomore Year will be ready to post.

Enjoy the summer traveling with the Travelers from Avalon, and wish them luck.  They are going to need it.

M G Kizzia

Under my author name, you can find the Prequel, the Pilot Episode, and Avalon Season One all available in E-book form, on Amazon, and through Smashwords at all major E-book sellers (Apple, B&N, etc.).  Season 2 and Season 3 are being formatted and will soon join the company.  Also, they are being formatted for CreateSpace, so sometime this summer they will be available as print-on-demand for all of you who prefer to hold a hard copy in your wonderful hand.  Stay tuned, and as always, whatever you read…a a happy reading************************

coverphoto01

 

 

Avalon 3.6: part 4 of 5, The Sevarese

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“Come.” The man in the doorway was insistent. The four men with spears handy pressed the issue.

“Why?” Lincoln asked. Boston had her wand out. Alexis was sitting down, checking Lothar’s wound. The man lifted his eyebrows. No one ever asked him that question before, and Lincoln took advantage of that. “Because if it is to talk to whoever is in charge, I will go willingly, without trouble.”

“To talk, maybe,” the man said. “Maybe the eagles eat you.”

“Stay here until I get back,” Lincoln said, and walked out without having to be dragged out, which made the man raise his eyebrows again.

As soon as the door was closed and latched, Alexis stood up. “I’m not staying here,” she said.

“Me neither,” Boston agreed.

“Can you walk?” Alexis asked Lothar.prisoners in cave

“Nothing wrong with my legs,” he nodded.

“Listen up,” Boston turned to the crowd. “We go slow and quiet. Do you know how to be sneaky?” she asked, and several heads nodded. “Good, because if one of you screams and panics and runs, you will get us all killed, and the gods will not smile kindly on you.”

“Ready?” Alexis said. Boston nodded, so Alexis raised her hand and they heard the latch on the other side of the door slide open. Boston stood with her wand ready. It was not her trusted Beretta, but then she had been practicing her flamethrower, so it might be better given the circumstances.

###

Lincoln got escorted beyond the serpent statue and altar to a stairway cut from the stone along the back wall. It was narrow, one person wide, and it had no railing. It also hovered over the crack in the ground where maybe a mile down, something appeared to be moving. Lincoln tried not to look down, but he thought he better watch his steps. The men that escorted him hardly seemed more comfortable as they climbed up and up.

At the top, Lincoln found a ledge with an archway that lead out onto a cave that appeared to be at the top of a cliff. This cave had a wide opening and a view for miles into the wilderness. Lincoln imagined he could see the river from there, but he honestly did not want to get too close to the edge. No matter. His eyes were drawn to the three small ships and one four to six man shuttle parked in the cave.

“Wait here,” the head man said, and Lincoln waited and groused at not having the database. “Come,” the man said, and lead him to a non-human bird-like person of some kind who was sitting at a table, looking over something like a tablet and scrolling through pages, reading.

“Interesting reading?” Lincoln spoke. The man looked like he was about to punch Lincoln and tell him to wait until spoken to, but the bird-man looked up.

UFO Birdman 7“Wait.”

The man waited.

“What do you know of reading?” The bird-man’s eyes got big. He stood, about four feet tall, and stepped free of the table. He appeared human enough, or a human shaped reptile but he had feathers instead of hair.

“You don’t look Marzalotipan to me,” Lincoln said, and saw recognition in the bird-man’s eyes. “Your species?”

“Sevarese. I am Glory Priuta, what you would call Commander Priuta. And you are human?” Lincoln nodded, and Commander Priuta understood the body language which said he had been there for some time. “And you are not from Kish, or from these primitive people that surround us. Your clothing and artifacts betray you. May I ask, where are you from?”

Lincoln paused, but decided it did not matter. “I did not get a good look at the database before your men kidnapped us, but at a guess I would say five thousand years in the future.”

The Bird-man’s eye got big and he made a sound for which there was no translation. He looked at the tablet which was still in his hand and announced. “You speak the truth.”

“I’ve been known to be honest now and then,” Lincoln said, and he considered the whole circumstances of his capture. The questions were building up inside him, but he was trying to be polite.

“But not always honest with your species, as we have observed.” Priuta said. He touched several places on the tablet and Lincoln could not hold back.

“You know you have Balok in the cavern,” Lincoln said. “I thought you people wiped out the Balok.”

“The Captain and others who heard of the Balok thought the same,” Commander Priuta said, with his eyes big again, which Lincoln decided was an expression of surprise and curiosity, or near enough. “We did not expect to find a ship still running through this system. We do not normally come here. Our navigation array marks this system as off limits.”

“And it is,” Lincoln said. “I am surprised the Kairos is not here.”

“I have heard of this Kairos,” The commander said. “The power that is the sun said he would be telling the Kairos, and he insisted in the meanwhile we share our food with the Balok. It irks, but as long as the Pendratti are denied this world, we will suffer to share. In truth, there are only a few old specimens of Balok alive, and they will die soon enough for us.”

“So why haven’t you left?” Lincoln asked the primary question.

Commander Priuta appeared to smile, and while he showed no teeth, he showed two or three tongues in his open mouth. “Our ship was heavily damaged in the battle. The Balok ship crashed here and sank into the earth in this spot. We managed a softer landing, but do not have the means to repair our craft. We are searching this world for artifacts we can adapt for our purposes.”eagle and serpent

Lincoln said something he had not originally intended. “Maybe Boston and Alexis can help you repair your ship. Katie Harper, too, if we can find her. Boston is the one with the red hair.”

Commander Priuta opened his mouth again and showed a couple of tongues. “Another reason you people were suspect,” he said.

Lincoln smiled until something else occurred to him. “What exactly is this food you are sharing with the Balok?”

“Just some of the primitive humans. I understand the Balok prefer to cook them, but personally I find the raw flesh very tasty. Some of my crew have been spoiled with our time here. They can hardly look at a human without feeling the hunger in their middle.”

###

“This is where the signal ended,” Elder Stow reported. “I am sorry this little portable unit has such limited range and battery strength is not the best.”

“Don’t apologize,” Lockhart said. “Obviously the Sevarese have set up a field around this cavern, and it might not be that good, but just enough to keep out your portable scan.” They all took a look at the opening to the cave. It faced the east and it looked dark and foreboding in the afternoon when the sun could not reach it.

“Typical rock formation,” Katie said. “Probably hollowed out by water at one point.” Lockhart nodded and lead them all back to where they hid the horses by some boulders. There was little room and little grass, but a few trees at least gave the illusion of being hidden.

“Roland—“ Lockhart started to speak, but Katie interrupted.

“I’m not staying back to watch the horses by myself. I could, but—“ Lockhart interrupted.

horses 2“What makes you think I want you to stay here and watch the horses?”

“Because you are the boss and self-designated responsible. Decker is a navy seal. For all my gifts, he is trained to sneak around an enemy base without being caught. I am not. I am surprised Roland has not already raced into the cavern, and with the non-human Sevarese around, you will probably need Elder Stow and his gadgets. I’m not staying alone here and missing out.”

Lockhart smiled as he dismounted. “I’m staying with you.”

“What?” everyone asked.

Avalon 3.3 part 6 of 6, Scaldi

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“Roland? I’ve been thinking.” Boston kept her eyes on the trail. They were headed north toward the next time gate while the Kairos, his companions and the Amazons headed south toward the crashed Blueblood ship.

Roland took his attention from the trail and smiled at Boston. He enjoyed hearing what she was thinking about. He was thinking, too. He was going to ask her to marry him. He only hesitated for so long because he felt bad for his father. Roland’s sister, Alexis, became human to marry Lincoln and that just about killed his father. Roland did not want to put his father through that again, but at last his love for Boston finally outweighed his resistance. He would become human if that was the only way he and Boston could be together, and he thought, Father would just have to accept it. Roland’s decision was made.

“Roland?” Boston started again. “I understand the Kairos made it so we could understand whatever the local people were saying as if they were speaking English. And we can talk to the locals so they hear us in their native tongue. But I don’t understand how he could do that.”

“Simple,” Roland said. “It is a natural ability shared by all of us, his little ones as he calls us. All the sprites of the air, water, fire and earth can do it. We were here long before the human word was scattered and confused by many tongues and many languages. We hear in the primal language, you might say the language of creation. And when we respond in that same language, humans hear and understand our words as if we were speaking their tongue. I assume the Kairos simply shared this natural ability with you humans. You say you hear everything in English, but maybe you are really hearing and responding in the primal language as well, only you don’t know it.”tower of babble

“We started this journey before the Tower of Babel fell,” Boston nodded. “We were there on Shinar.”

“We were.” Roland nodded. “And the first tongue might have seeped into your brain at that point.”

“But what I don’t understand is the Amazons.” Boston even looked puzzled. “I didn’t think of it at the time. We were kind of busy. But the Amazons came all the way from the Black Sea. I am sure they speak a language all their own. Then Andovar’s people by the Caspian Sea had to speak a completely different language. Yet they were able to talk to each other with no problem whatsoever.”

“I asked about that,” Lincoln said. He was eavesdropping and pushed his horse forward to get into the conversation. Boston and Roland both turned their heads to listen and Alexis looked up but followed from where she was.   “Iddin explained that Serpentelle used to be a goblin and when he and Clicker were captured by the Gutians, Serpentelle and her people came to his rescue. Suddenly, Iddin could understand what the Gutians were saying. He said it took a while to figure it out, but when Serpentelle and Clicker were in range, they broadcasted a wave – that is what he called it – which broke down the language barriers in the human mind and let people communicate. He said that is why he made Serpentelle a hobgoblin, so he could take her along, though he also said that she and Clicker together were so annoying he almost regretted his decision.”

“I see,” Boston responded. “So when those two little ones are together, something gets into the head of anyone near and communication is suddenly possible.”

Tow Warrior group“Like magic,” Roland said with a smile.

Alexis looked up and grinned before she said, “Stop.”

At the same time they heard a man yell, “Hold it right there.”

Roland and Boston faced front and reigned in their horses. Lincoln came up alongside Roland while Alexis moved up beside Boston. Katie and Lockhart were riding to the front. Katie had her rifle out and Lockhart pulled out the shotgun. There were twenty horsemen in front of them, blocking their way..

“Hold your fire!” Lockhart shouted as Decker came in from the flank. When Elder Stow hovered in from the other flank, a number of the horsemen dropped their jaws and looked uncertain as to why they were there.

“Can we help you?” Katie spoke up but Lockhart hushed her and went up to within a couple of meters. The contrast between his big, western mustang and the sea ponies the people were riding became evident, as did Lockhart’s over six feet of height which was intimidating in a five foot world. He spoke loud and clear.

“You are the Scaldi. We know this is your land. We are just passing through and would prefer to do it peacefully. By this time tomorrow we will be gone.” He paused, but no one moved or said anything in response, so he continued. “Look. We just killed three sea serpents, made the giant of Transvaak a prisoner, scared off a griffin and destroyed three witches. It has been a busy couple of days and I really don’t feel like killing right now. So if you don’t mind, we will pass through and mind our own business.” That got the men on horseback whispering sharply and a few tried to back up, hard as that was on ponies.

“Captain Harper.” Major Decker spoke up.

“Sir.” Katie responded.Tree branch

“Lay a pattern at their feet.” The rifles went up and so did Lockhart’s shotgun. Lockhart aimed at the man out front before he raised his gun to the tree branch above the man’s head. The rifle fire made the ponies jump. Lockhart’s shotgun blast got them to turn around, and by the time the branch fell, twenty men were riding for their lives.

“Hopefully that will be the end of it,” Lincoln said.

“Double watch in the night.” Lockhart said and turned to Katie.

Katie spoke as if she was finishing her conversation. “What I don’t understand is how the Amazons and Andovar’s people could understand each other.”

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

Be sure to check next Monday for the beginning for Avalon, Episode 3.4, Trader in Mischief which will be posted in 5 parts over the next two weeks.  A new world episode, taking place in southeastern Brazil after 2972 BC, where the travelers find the natives restless, and one alien who sees the earth as a vast, untapped market for his space salvage and war surplus goods.

Avalon 3.1: part 5 of 7, Down and Out

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Bonesplitter the troll reached out to poke the rump of Lockhart’s horse like a man might check the marbling on a good steak. There was a great crackling sound at the back of the horse which caused it to buck while something like lightning came out of the horse and struck the troll’s hand. Bonesplitter was thrown back into the solid rock wall of the tunnel, hard. A number of rocks crumbled and several big ones fell from overhead, not that the troll was actually damaged, but he was pretty badly shaken.

“You okay?” Katie was the first to express her concern.

“Yes, didn’t I tell you?” Lockhart answered. “After the last time zone when the imps tried for horse bacon, Junior doubled the hedge around the horses the way the gods put a hedge around us. If any of the little ones try to harm the horses, they might not survive the attempt. I think this was just a warning that probably startled Dog as much as the troll, but we are all right now.”

“We have company up front, too.” Roland spoke from the front of the column as the column stopped.

“We have been traveling single file and downhill for several hours. Ask them if they will take us to a cavern where we can spread out. Better yet would be an exit on the other side of the mountain.”

‘I can ask,” Roland said. He was an elf who could hear even a whisper from the back of the column with those good elf ears. He could also make himself heard without having to raise his voice, and limit the hearing to the person he was speaking to by a technique he called directed sound.

“Well, if they know the horses are off limits and we are under the protection of the gods, they might think twice about hurting us or leading us astray,” Lockhart said.

“For now,’ Roland responded. “But give them time. They will think of something,” and he started the group moving again.Troll tunnel

While they walked, the goblin beside Lockhart asked a couple of questions. “So what stupidity got you to risk your lives going down into a goblin lair?”

“We dug a man’s body out of the ice—a crevasse in the glacier above. We promised to take it home where it could be properly buried, but it was stolen in the night.”

“You dug it out?” The goblin sounded surprised before he shouted with no concern that the sound might bring the roof down. “Hey Slither. I thought you said you dug that humebone out of the ice.”

The shout came back. “Well, not exactly. I said it was dug out of the ice, but it wasn’t hard. We found it outside the top door tied up like a present.”

“Okay. I just wanted to be sure you were lying.” The goblin turned again to Lockhart and shook his head in the dark. “You never know. But now, tell me something about your people.” Lockhart could not be sure, but he imagined the goblin was grinning in his most friendly manner.

“What did you do with the body?”

“Ah, well.” The goblin lost his grin and apparently had to think about what to say. “I thought we might thaw it and eat it. I imagined it would be good and ripe by now, but Hogface said the ice probably preserved it so it might be like fresh meat. I’m not picky. But our god sent us to fetch it, so we are bringing it to him.” The goblin appeared to shrug like he thought that was a waste of good eating.

“I have known the Kairos for over forty years. I think you made a wise decision fighting your desire for lunch.”

“Oh, you know him, do you?”

They emptied out from the tunnel into a big cavern. This one was well lit with torches spread around that naturally gave off no smoke. There were several smokeless cooking fires around as well, and several goblin women cooking. Lockhart tried not to look as the goblin next to him spoke to the troll

“Bonesplitter, go play with the children.” Bonesplitter made a sound which Lockhart interpreted as a sound of delight, though he could hardly imagine a troll being delighted about anything. He refused to look at the children and waited patiently as his goblin rushed up front to whisper words in another goblin’s ear. That goblin, a big and exceptionally frightening looking fellow stepped up to the travelers to speak.

“We can’t eat your horses which is a waste of good meat. And we can’t eat you since you are under the protection of the gods. So why are you here? There is the door. Get out.” He pointed to another rock wall like the one where they came in. It was another glamour designed to protect the entrance of the goblin home.Troll cave exit

“You heard him,” Lockhart said, and he encouraged the travelers to vacate the place. To be sure, they did not need much encouragement.

Back outside, they found themselves on the other side of the mountain and headed downhill. The sky had cleared of its ominous clouds while they were underground, and the sun came out, but the sun was only an hour or so from setting. Lockhart moved them downhill as much as he could and as fast as he dared. He wanted as much room as he could get between them and the goblins at night.

“Dark elves,” Katie kept calling them. It did not help. Lockhart said they were creepy and he felt some empathy for poor, old Lincoln.

They set a watch in the night, but were not bothered, and things looked better in the morning.

“We are much further down the mountain and out of the alps than I expected,” Elder Stow reported.

“As high up as we got, it was hard to tell what time of year we were in,” Roland spoke to Boston. “I think now we are gaining on spring.”

“I like spring,” Boston responded with a smile.

For much of the morning, Decker and Elder Stow were able to move out on the wings and get a good lay of the land. Boston kept an eye on her amulet so they would not get too far off if they had to detour, and Roland often raced out front to see what might be the easiest way down.

Lincoln and Alexis said little, but seemed content to ride side by side. Katie tried to get Lockhart to relax. She thought all of the little spirits of the earth were fascinating, including goblins and trolls, so she did not exactly understand the phobia. Lockhart said it wasn’t a phobia, their inhuman nature just creeped him out, that’s all.

alp mountainsideThey stopped for lunch when Roland caught a couple of doves on the mountainside. The trees were thick in the area, but there was a small upland meadow where they could build a fire and relax. It also gave the horses some variety in their diet, though it was only sprouts and not yet flowers.

They were approached when they settled in. Roland called them Kobald, but they looked more or less like elves to the others. There were three, Hart, Posen and Grieg, and they did not appear to be threatening. Hart was the one who did most of the talking.

“You are on the Lady’s mountain.”

“Who?” Boston had to ask.

“Oneesis, the oread of this mountain. They are all her mountains in a sense, but this one in particular she calls home.

“No offence to Oneesis,” Lockhart spoke. “We are trying to get off her mountain, but we have an errand first.”

“We dug a body out of the glacier above,” Lincoln picked up the story. “And against the better judgment of some of us, we promised the ghost we would take his body home for proper burial.”

“Ah,” Hart said while Posen and Grieg nodded to each other. “The one picked up by the dwarfs at the entrance to the goblin lair is on its way. That way.” He pointed. “The main path down this side of the mountain from the pass is over there. We were wondering why you were far from the easy path.”

“We didn’t know there was an easy path,’ Alexis sounded apologetic.

“With the Kairos, there is no easy path,” Decker said, and everyone laughed, including the Kobald who also nodded to one another and made agreeable sounds.. Among the travelers it was a bit of nervous laughter which was only mollified when Hart spoke again.

“Come, we will take you to the path and to the body.”