Lindisfarne

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 1 of 3

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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.”

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

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Kirstie

After 883 A. D. Trondelag, Norway

Kairos 104 Lady Kristina of Strindlos

When Kirstie and Yrsa left Father McAndrews and the monks behind and got to the shore of Lindisfarne, they found Captain Harrold’s longship was the last one there. Kirstie took one long look back at the abbey, the chapel, and the village she spared from the Viking rampage. Five shiploads of men eventually came to her side to defend the Holy Island against those who wanted to loot and pillage the island. It was enough to turn the looters away. The island was spared.

Kirstie was especially glad that three of the Viking crews that came to her side included all the men from her home village of Strindlos. Most of those men were her friends and neighbors. True, Captain Harrold Harroldson was the last and he came to her side reluctantly. He seemed convinced the abbey had chests full of gold and silver, and he would not be talked out of it, but his men, the men of Strindlos, outvoted him with their feet. Harrold came, but as he passed her by, he could not resist pointing his finger and mumbling threats about getting even.

When Kirstie and Yrsa clambered aboard Captain Harrold’s ship, Kare yelled at them. “How dare you prevent us from ruining the place. Now King Cnut of York won’t pay us, like he promised. We could have gotten all the silver from the church and been paid besides. We could be rich.”

Kirstie yelled right back. “Me and Yrsa standing alone against four hundred men. You should be glad I’m alive.”

Kare’s friend Thoren spoke in a much calmer voice. “Harrold wanted to leave you here. He wanted to abandon you to your fate among the Northumbrians.”

Kare still yelled. “I said I was not leaving without you. He said I could stay and die with you for all he cared.”

Thoren interrupted again. “Skipari Toke reminded him that Chief Kerga and Mother Vrya would be very unhappy if he left you here.”

Kare nodded, softened his voice a little, and pointed at Thoren. “Not to mention all the strange ones that live around your farm. That will have to change when we get married.”

“That will not change.” Kirstie shouted while she stored her things beneath her seat. She did not say she and Kare would not be married. Kirstie felt there was something inevitable about Kare and her, even if she hated the idea. Kare had been hounding her and threatening to marry her since she was a child. Sadly, she could not imagine a happy life with Kare. Right at the moment, she did not even want to look at the man.

Toke, the skipari made them all take their seats. Kirstie was glad for that, even if Kare sat right behind her. She grabbed her oar, and soon enough they rowed out into deeper water.

Kirstie looked toward the back of the ship, as all rowers did. She watched Captain Harrold at the steering board where he faced the front and could direct the rowers with simple commands. They turned around to head out to sea and Kirstie got a good last look at the island they were leaving behind. She saw ships, primarily fishing ships filled with men sailing by Saint Cuthbert’s Island to reach the main island on the other side of Heugh Hill. Before they got completely out of sight, she saw men on the hill staring back at them. She wondered if Wilam was among them before she scolded herself for believing Wilam felt anything at all for her.

She rescued Wilam with all the crews in Normandy and saw that they got paid. But she just met him. She hardly talked to him. He was just one member of one of the crews. He sailed with Captain Olaf. Brant Svenson was his skipari. But she imagined he was mostly just happy to be freed from his cage. She had no reason to suppose he had any interest in her one way or another.

True, she met him a second time in the Northumbrian village of Ellingham. She warned him about the Norsemen ready to attack Ellingham so he could evacuate the village, but really, he was just grateful. They talked a bit before she had to go, but not about anything important. As soon as Brant Svenson came with two horses, he rode off quick enough. He was just being grateful, she told herself again. It was not anything personal. She decided she should not let her personal feelings run away with her.

Kare said something over her shoulder from behind, but she chose not to hear him.

They rowed the two hours to one of the smaller of the Farne Islands that looked out on the North Sea, well out of sight from the mainland. Harrold brought the ship to the rocky shoreline where they put down the anchor and came ashore.

Kirstie noticed for the first time that they had a few goats tied at the back of the boat, along with a big keg of either wine or beer. Probably beer or mead, she decided. Harrold must have sent a few men to scout ahead on the holy island and maybe they picked up a sampling of what they found.

Kirstie ignored the goats. She had to hurry to Harrold to make her peace offering. He kindly stopped to listen to what she had to say. “I have a present for you, as long as there is peace between us,” she said. “The priest on Lindisfarne gave me this.” She pulled out the small golden cross. “He said it belonged to his mother. It is gold and probably the only gold on the whole island. I am offering it to you as very small compensation for preventing you from pillaging the abbey and the town.” She clutched it and thought through a prayer in her mind before she opened her hand and held it out to the man. “Let there be peace between us.”

Harrold took the little golden cross and looked at it closely before he put it in a pocket of his own. He nodded and said something she did not expect. “Do you know why Toke is my skipari?” Kirstie shook he head. “I can trust him. The men respect him, and he is honest because he is a Godr, a priest of Aesgard. He served in the temple in Varnes. That is where I found him back when you were a baby, and he has sailed with me since that day, which is why you might not know he is a priest.” Harrold turned his head to see one of the goats unloaded from the ship. “I am willing to make peace, but only after the ceremony.”

“What ceremony?” Kirstie asked, and suddenly two plus two added up to about seventeen in her head. “No,” she raised her voice. “I did not agree to this, and I am not agreeing to this.”

“Your agreement does not matter,” Harrold said. “You father is not alive to decide. As a captain in the town and on behalf of the whole community of Strindlos, I am making the decision. You will be married and settle down and stop interfering with the men of the Trondelag.”

“Captain Jarl and Captain Rune, and Chief Kerga will not agree with you. Mother Vrya will speak against you.”

“They are not here,” he said and brushed passed her with a final thought. “You might want to put on your blue dress.”

Kirstie let out a scream before she began to cry and Yrsa came to hold her. She thought about Wilam first thing, but she did not know what to think about Wilam. She honestly had no reason to suppose he had feelings for her. She thought about Kare. She thought about him since she was thirteen. She always figured she would end up married to him, but this was not what she had in mind. Of course, in her culture marriages were arranged, though usually by the father. Sometimes men and women did not even know each other before they married. It was up to the couple to make it work. With Kare, Kirstie figured it would be up to her to make it work.

Medieval 5: K and Y 20 Misdirection, part 3 of 3

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Kirstie

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

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

“Where do you think you are going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Vortesvin,” she called.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mother,” Manannan nodded to her and vanished.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Abraxas.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

END

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MONDAY – TUESDAY – and WEDNESDAY

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

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Medieval 5: K and Y 20 Misdirection, part 1 of 3

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Kirstie

Yrsa woke Kirstie after roughly six hours of sleep. The late spring sun looked ready to rise, and Kirstie asked first thing, “Has the island been evacuated?”

Yrsa had to pause and sense her surroundings before she answered. “I don’t think so. There seem to be humans in a big room not far from here, yelling. I can feel the anger and upset from here, but I can’t hear their words, exactly, so I can’t tell you what it is about.”

Kirstie stood and touched her dress. “Fresh and clean, and no wrinkles,” she said, and the dress complied. “Too bad I can’t make my body do the same thing.” Yrsa nodded, but Kirstie felt it was not exactly fair. Yrsa always looked fresh and clean. “So, we go and find out,” she said, though she could guess. She walked into the run-down church, really a chapel overlooked by the ruins, and arrived in time to hear what the abbot said.

“But we are a small community. We have no riches. Most of our land has been taken from us, and we no longer have any influence on anyone. Why would anyone come here looking for gold and silver? I have prayed about this, and the Lord has assured me this holy island will not be despoiled for as long as I am here. Why would you come now and tell such mean and awful lies, and stir up so much trouble among the people?”

“He is not lying,” Yrsa said.

Father McAndrews mumbled something followed by a whispered “Forgive me.”

“Well then,” Kirstie shouted, interrupting the men, and gaining all of their attention. “I have my work cut out for me.” Kirstie called and became clothed in her armor and weapons. The men in the chapel shouted in response, except Father McAndrews who appeared to nod. Yrsa changed more subtly to her leather but pulled her bow seemingly out of thin air. “Come on, Yrsa. We have to see if we can stop almost four hundred men from despoiling this place.” Kirstie stopped in the doorway. “No promises on my part.”

Father McAndrews spoke. “I pray that those who are with you are more than those who are against you.”

“Good choice,” Kirstie said, and they left the building.

Kirstie contacted Fardlevan as soon as they were outside. She asked him to keep track of the progress of the longships. He said they were not far offshore and headed straight for the rise between the chapel and the old end rock. They would have to come uphill to reach the monastery and the ruins, but with more than three hundred and fifty men, they had ten times the number of men, women, and children left on the entire island, and of the thirty-five humans that refused to escape to the mainland in the nighttime low tide, twenty were unarmed monks and the rest were relatively unarmed fishermen..

Kirstie sat on the edge of the rise where the chapel stood. She found the remains of a wall in that place and sat atop the wall to wait. In front of her, between her and the sea, a flat and open space reached all the way to the small cliff and rocky shoreline. The Viking ships landed carefully along the rocky shore, and most dropped their anchors to steady the longships. a few men were left on each ship, but most came to shore and climbed the short cliff easily enough.

Kirstie got down from the wall to face them, and Yrsa joined her. Kirstie pulled her battleax, set the handle on the ground, and gripped the top of the axe with both hands, like one might hold a cane. Then she waited and growled a little.

When the men came to field, they saw her, and some stopped to look at their captains and skipari. Ulf, Harrold, Odger, and the two captains Kirstie did not know well did not stop. Rune, Jarl, and Bo Erikson paused. Kirstie concentrated. She did not want to burn Yrsa. She did not want to burn the men if she could help it. “Close your eyes,” she told Yrsa, and let a touch of the sun the god Fryer gave her out from her pores. She tried to direct it toward the front and not toward Yrsa.

The men across the way all yelled and shouted. They covered their eyes and felt what little heat did go with the light. Some sounded angry. Some sounded afraid. But they all stopped moving forward which is what Kirstie wanted. She quickly yelled as she stopped the light, hoping at least the ones who mattered would hear.

“You will not desecrate this holy island. These few monks have lost their property. They are barely able to grow enough for their daily bread. They have no gold and no silver. You have come here for nothing. Turn around and leave this place and leave these holy men alone or suffer the wrath of God.”

The angry men responded. “That won’t satisfy Cnut. We won’t get paid. You are lying.”

Captain Ulf raised his voice. “Which god?” Everyone grew silent.

“God almighty, father of our Lord Jesus the Christ,” she answered.

“And are you champion of this lord and god?” Ulf asked.

“We are here,” Kirstie heard behind her. Father McAndrews and three of the monks came to stand with her and Yrsa.

Kirstie turned her head and quietly commanded, “Stay here.” She stepped ten paces from the wall and shouted. “And you, Captain Ulf from Steinker, are you champion for these men or are you afraid and a coward?”

Plenty of eyes turned to Ulf and saw him spit. He came out from the group and stepped forward to meet her. “You insult me. Now I will have to kill you.” Njal the giant followed his captain a few steps behind.

As Kirstie stepped forward to meet Ulf in the middle of the open field, she mocked the man. “You need to fight two against one? That is hardly fair, even for a coward.”

Ulf looked back when he stopped to face Kirstie. “Stay out of it,” he told Njal before he spoke to Kirstie. “Njal is my second, just to make sure you don’t cheat.”

“So, I get a second,” Kirstie said.

“You have your girl.”

Kirstie shook her head. “To make things more even,” she said and called, “Vortesvin.” The troll appeared behind her and took a few moments to orient himself to where he was and what was happening. Vortesvin came still covered in his glamour of humanity, so he looked like an eight and a half foot true giant, not like Njal who was merely a tall man. Vortesvin came in work clothes complete with a floppy straw hat, and he only carried a hoe, but he was not only a foot and a half taller than Njal, he looked much wider as well, with muscles like the incredible Hulk. Njal took two steps back and likely considered turning around and running away.

“Vortesvin. You are not to interfere. You are here to observe, and make sure Ulf does not cheat, and see that Njal does not interfere either. If Ulf cheats or Njal interferes, you have my permission to rip them to shreds.”

“Yes, Lady.” The slight growl in the words of Vortesvin did not help Njal one bit, or Ulf for that matter.

Kirstie pulled her shield from her back, raised her battleax, and stood at the ready. Ulf pulled his sword and did not bother with his shield, like he thought this would not take long. He came at her with three quick strokes and forced her back. She swung her axe at his head, and he jumped back. She swung at his legs, and he jumped back again. He got mad and came at her, but she blocked his sword with her shield and swung again for his neck. He avoided the hit, but she scraped his shoulder and tore the leather. If this had been a more modern duel, first blood would have ended it in Kirstie’s favor, but this was not really a duel. Someone would die.

Ulf stepped back to think. Maybe this won’t be so easy, and he pulled his shield. Both combatants paused as an arrow flew passed. Someone in the line of men cried out. He was one of Ulf’s crew. He grabbed his chest where Yrsa’s arrow pierced his heart. His own arrow left the bow but did not travel far as he dropped the bow and fell over, dead.

“Cheater,” Kirstie said, and Ulf roared and rushed her, landing blow after blow. It hurt her left arm to fend off the sword with her shield. Kirstie got a couple of blows against the man which kept him from simply overpowering her, but sometimes he used his shield like a club, and she kept backing up because of it. Finally, she swung a hard blow to the top of his head, but he got his shield up in a way that caught the blade. Her axe busted the metal border and stuck fast in the top of the boss. Ulf grinned and yanked the axe right out of Kirstie’s hand. It smarted something terrible.

The axe flew to the ground, and after a moment to examine his broken and cracked shield, he threw the shield after the axe. He got both hands on his sword where he could take advantage of his superior strength. He grinned at her. He thought he had her, but Kirstie called, and her sword, salvation, vacated the sheath and flew to her hand. Ulf paused in wonder, but it was what Kirstie needed. She moved her shield to her right arm and gripped her sword with her left hand.

Ulf came at her, swinging wildly. Again, she backed up and turned toward his sword side, so he kept having to turn to get at her. She did use her shield as a club a couple of times to make him back up. She was told not to do that. It would tire her out much too quickly, but she had no choice. He was relentless, and while she tried to respond with her own sword, she eventually had her sword knocked from her weak left hand.

Finally, she tripped, or got pushed, or blocked his blow in just the wrong way. Her shield slipped from her arm as she landed on her back. His expression turned to gloating. He turned his sword to point down on her. He planned to pin her to the ground like a bug. He stood over her, but he forgot. Kirstie called the sword to her hand, and as he struck down, she shoved her sword up into his middle even as she twisted and sat up, so his blow missed her completely.

Ulf’s eyes got big. Kirstie used her foot against the man’s chest to pull her sword from his middle. She pulled some of the man’s insides with it, and he fell on his back to bleed out.

Medieval 5: K and Y 19 Taken by Strangers, part 2 of 3

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Kirstie

Yrsa kept her elf ears wide open. She reported that she did not hear anyone say anything to suggest they were seen. Soon enough they got swallowed by the dusk and all but disappeared, a mere speck on the water. Father McAndrews said they were in danger of striking rocks until they got beyond the islands altogether, but Kirstie had something in mind. The women stopped rowing and pulled up the oars.

“Fardlevan,” she called, and realized the water sprite must have been following them as he jumped straight to the edge of the boat and saluted. “Fardlevan, this is Father McAndrews of Lindisfarne. Fardlevan, the water sprite of the Farne Islands.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Fardlevan said, pleasantly. “I’ve watched the good father go back and forth from the island of the monkeys and this island lots of times. I guessed the poor father can’t make up his mind.”

“No… Well, sort of. I’ve thought about taking up the hermitage, but I don’t feel the lord is calling me to that. I’m just not sure what call there is on my life now that I have aged a bit.”

“Aged like a good wine, maybe,” Yrsa said as she finally just about got the water out of the bottom of the boat.

“They are monks, not monkeys,” Kirstie corrected the sprite. “And we need to get to the Holy Island to warn the people there. The Vikings are coming in the morning to steal, kill, and destroy.”

“That sounds bad for the poor mudders who live on the interruption in my beautiful sea,” Fardlevan sounded distressed. “They live such short lives as it is.”

Kirstie agreed and asked. “Can you help us get there safely, help us avoid the rocks and all?”

“Better,” Fardlevan perked up. “We can take you there. Keep your oar things in the boat and we can make a current and carry you through the deep water to the shore.” The sprite jumped back into the water and in a moment, the boat began to move. It soon got dark enough so they could not honestly see where they were going, but Yrsa and Kirstie trusted the sprite completely so Father McAndrews hardly knew what to say.

“The sea and the sky are my friends,” Kirstie told him again.

“Still, it would be nice to see where we are going,” Father McAndrews said and looked out into the growing darkness.

Yrsa let out a yawn and said, “We are far enough away from the men and putting an island between us and them. A little fairy light should not give us away.” She rubbed her hands together and produced a fairy light that she let float in the air. She pushed it out in front of the boat. It did not light up the whole area, but it stayed a few feet up in the air and out front so they could see where they were headed.

Kirstie had to concentrate before she began to glow like moonlight. She kept as much heat out of her light as she could. Father McAndrews hardly blinked when Kirstie said she was filled with a piece of the sun, but she could tone it down. “I am a fire starter,” she reminded the man.

He just nodded. “And your maid?”

Kirstie thought about saying Yrsa was also gifted at some point. It was why they ended up together, or basically, a lie, but Yrsa spoke first.

“I’m an elf,” Yrsa admitted. “A light elf not made to wander around in the nighttime.” She let out another small yawn.

Father McAndrews did not look surprised. “But you are mostly human.”

“I am completely human,” Kirstie said sharply before she softened her voice. “I have just been gifted way beyond what I deserve.”

Father McAndrews smiled. “I was right the first time. You two are much like angels, anyway.” He turned to watch their progress. Two hours later they docked at the abbey on Lindisfarne and Kirstie thanked her water sprites for their good help.

Men, mostly monks came to the dock, having seen the lights. Yrsa extinguished her fairy light right away and said now she was really tired. Kirstie took a minute to figure out how to turn off her glow and agreed with Yrsa. “Is there a place to sleep?” she asked. “They won’t be here for at least six hours. They will probably come with the high tide when the walkway is covered with water.”

The men on the dock, some with weapons did not know what to say. Kirstie and Yrsa were dressed in their blue and green dresses, and Father McAndrews scolded the men for even having weapons. He got their attention when he said, “The Vikings will be here first thing in the morning. Any who wish to leave better hurry while the walkway is safe and while they can. But first, we need to see these angels housed and left to sleep, and then I need to see the abbot, so someone needs to be brave enough to wake him.”

“If the ladies will follow me,” one monk said. His fellow monk carried a torch.

Kirstie nodded her agreement, though she could hardly be seen in the torchlight. She considered what she could do to prevent a bloodbath. Nothing she could think of. She would have to decide what to do when she saw where they men intended to land, and when she learned if there were people foolish enough to not leave when they had the chance. “Good night sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest,” Kirstie said to Father McAndrews, and she joined Yrsa in following the two monks. The cobblestone walkway from the docks was rough and not well kept. The monks knew where to put their feet, but Kirstie and Yrsa needed to watch their feet. Kirstie made her flashlight hands to help, and only one of the monks let out a sound of surprise. Kirstie figured the other was the silent type.

They soon came to a room with several cots. The women did not say anything. They made beelines to the cots, laid down, pulled up blankets, and turned their backs on the monks. The monks hardly got the door closed before they were both asleep.

Yasmina

Al-Din and Francesco snuck into the garden to see the girls. Badroul could barely contain her excitement. She never did anything so naughty before. Yasmina looked at it differently. She knew if the boys got caught, they would lose their heads.

“Badroul,” al-Din whispered too loud. Abu the Jinn assured the boys that the guards, Suffar, and the governor would all be busy with other tasks and not have their eyes on the girls. The garden wall was not a hard climb. “Badroul.”

“Hush,” Yasmina said. “The guards are busy, not deaf.”

Badroul flew into al-Din’s arms. Their kisses were the tentative kisses of youth, but they got the hugging part down pretty well.

“You didn’t fly into my arms,” Francesco objected.

“You are still a stranger to me,” Yasmina responded, though she reached for the man’s hand and took him to a bench mostly hidden by the bushes. She looked down the whole time, even when they sat, side by side. He never took his eyes off her. Yasmina felt some anger at herself. She was not this shy. She forced herself to look the man in the eye and he responded.

“I know that you are a beautiful young woman.”

“You can’t see more than my eyes. How do you know what I look like?”

“I have a good imagination,” he said. “Back home, there are nuns who walk around in tent-like clothing such as yours, and they often cover their faces. Young boys have learned to use their imagination. It is a terrible, sinful thing to do, but all the boys do it. It can’t be helped. Beyond that,” he said and briefly looked away. “They say the eyes are the window to the soul and I can see the beauty inside your eyes. I believe that is the important part.”

Yasmina kept wanting to turn her head away. Her face wanted to redden, but she steeled herself and answered him. “Is that how the Romans conquered the world, through flattery?”

“No, that was hard work. The thing that made it worthwhile was occasionally finding things worth flattering.”

Yasmina smiled beneath her veil but got serious. “Can we come back to reality now? I still don’t know you.”

“But I know you,” Francesco said. “I have seen you around the home of Ala al-Din, my friend. I have seen how well you treat the servants and slaves, how you care for your horse, and how gentle, kind, and loving you are. There is much more to you, I am sure, but I believe it can only be good.”

“Ha!” Yasmina scoffed, but she nearly laughed.

Medieval 5: K and Y 19 Taken by Strangers, part 1 of 3

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Kirstie

In the morning, when the sun rose and Father McAndrews and the girls finished their Haddock with a bread and water breakfast, the girls hugged the old man, promised not to give him away, and headed back toward the ships. Kirstie offered a thought.

“Even if we end up staying here for a week, he should be all right with the smoked fish we left for him.”

“And the full water bucket,” Yrsa said, and then she added, “Have you thought about what you are going to do about you-know-who?”

Kirstie looked at her friend and shook her head. “Danna, the mother goddess says she is ready when the time comes, but I don’t see what else I can do. He has had three chances to do the right thing and go over to the other side, and three times he has refused. He seems determined to be worshiped and bring humanity back under the old way of the gods, his gods. This cannot be. The old way has gone, and the new way has come.”

Yrsa nodded slightly but said nothing.

“Kirstie!” Kare, of all people, saw her first and ran to her. He grabbed her and sort of hugged her before he angrily grabbed her by the upper arm and dragged her into the camp. “We were worried about you out there in the rain and the dark. We searched for you until it got too dark to see and the rain came hard. Where did you go? What did you do all night?” He showed concern, but anger as well, like how dare she run off without him right there to watch her.

“You must be hungry,” Thoren said, but Kirstie shook her head.

“Kirstie called a fish from the sea,” Yrsa said. “We found a place to shelter, and she made a fire so we could cook the fish. We are fine.”

All Kirstie could think was at least Kare knew how to hug.

“Come on,” Kare said. “Captains Ulf and Odger came in early this morning, and he has called the captains together for a meeting.” Kirstie arrived in time to hear something very disturbing.

“Cnut remains a believer in the old ways, and he is fighting against this Christian business as much as against the kings in the land. He knows Lindisfarne is responsible for reaching the people with the Christ. He wants it utterly destroyed. He wants to finish the job Halfdan Ragnarsson started twenty-five years ago. I figure after twenty-five years the monks have had plenty of time to refill their coffers with plenty of gold and silver, and that will be ours to take.”

“So, to understand,” Harrold said. “You are telling us now that Cnut is not concerned about Bamburgh. Lindisfarne has been the target all along, only you are just now telling us.”

“No. The raiding was an important first part of the deal, but I figured we needed to keep one eye focused on the king’s city in case he did send the army after us. Now I figure all eyes will be focused south from here and no one will be looking north toward the monastery, so ruining the place should be easy.”

“And Cnut won’t pay us unless we destroy the monastery. Is that so?” Jarl said.

“Basically,” Ulf said, but he said it in a way like he was surprised anyone might object. “Look, there is no rush. Let my crew rest today and tend their wounds. We can sail to the island in the morning and still take them completely by surprise.”

No one said any more. Kirstie and Yrsa backed away. Unfortunately, Kare and Thoren stayed right with them.

Kirstie whispered. “We have to get free and get Father McAndrews. We have to warn the people of Lindisfarne.”

“Thank you, Lady. I was thinking the same thing but did not know if I should say it.”

They began to make plans.

Near the end of the day, Kare left their little camp to talk to Harrold. Thoren stayed by the fire to watch the girls, but Kirstie imagined she would have no other chance. “Now,” she whispered and stood.

“Where are you going?” Thoren asked.

“To relieve myself?” Kirstie said.

Thoren looked closely at their faces and said something Kirstie did not expect. “You better hurry before Kare gets back.” They hurried.

“He knew we were leaving the camp” Yrsa said.

“Not necessarily,” Kirstie tried to object.

“He knew we were leaving the camp,” Yrsa repeated. “I would say he knew we had found a way to get to Lindisfarne and warn the people, and he let us go to do that.”

“So, like he said, let’s hurry.” Kirstie thought Thoren was a better man than Kare. She did not mind the man marrying Hilda.

When they reached the shore and cave, and explained what was happening, Father McAndrews panicked a little. He calmed when he said the journey in his little boat only took a couple of hours.

“So, no need to rush,” Kirstie said. “They won’t move out until tomorrow morning. We can have supper first and you can pack before we go. Where is the boat?”

Father McAndrews took them to the edge of the cave and pointed down. “There. in the hollow space between that big rock and the cliff. It is covered against the rain and any breakers big enough to wash over the big rock, but that only happens in the worst of storms. Last night was not so bad.”

Kirstie nodded. She built up the fire while Yrsa fixed the second haddock, the smaller one. Small was fine since they would not be saving any for breakfast. Somehow, she managed to remove the smokey flavor, so it tasted like fresh caught.

“How did you do that,” Father McAndrews asked.

“Secret old family recipe,” Yrsa answered, and Father McAndrews did not pry.

When they had eaten, Father McAndrews said they better hurry. “The sun will set in an hour and we want to be well out of these islands by then. There are rocks in many places to avoid and I have to be able to see the landmarks.”

Kirstie shook her head. “Better we leave after dark, so we won’t be spotted by our people.”

“That would be dangerous,” Father McAndrews countered.

“Have faith,” Kirstie said, and they waited until it was nearly dark, and only moved because they heard men talking and shouting, scrounging around on the clifftop.

“Quiet and careful,” Kirstie said and went first down the rocks that made something like a very steep and narrow stairway. They uncovered the boat when they heard the men overhead get louder. They got the boat in the water when one man shouted. They found the cave.

Kirstie and Yrsa sat side by side and each took an oar. They would not let the old man row. Kirstie said he had to stay in the bow and spot their direction, to tell them left or right to avoid the rocks. Getting out into the sea between the islands took some effort, but the father had been correct in his assessment. The waves below the cave were not nearly as strong or high as elsewhere, though the boat still bobbed up and down like a cork.

Medieval 5: K and Y 18 Unexpected Meetings, part 3 of 4

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Kirstie

“We are shield maidens, but we are not dressed for throat cutting at the moment,” Kirstie said. “Yrsa is trying to convince me that I need to settle down and become a man’s good wife.”

“You don’t sound convinced,” Father McAndrews said.

“That will depend on finding the right man,” Kirstie responded, and she pulled out her little wooden cross. She genuflected slightly for the priest and asked, “Why are you here all alone on a deserted island?”

He looked at her. “You are believers in the way?”

“I am, as was my mother. We are after a fashion, but we have no priests, not even a deacon or monk to guide us. You should come to Strindlos, though I suppose that would be dangerous. Most of the Trondelag hold tight to the old ways of Odin and Frigg, though they are gone now. The new way has come, but word has not reached my people yet. It will take some real men of courage to come and share the gospel among my people.”

“Come,” the father said. “We must get out of the rain that is coming.” He walked them to a steep climb down to the entrance of a cave. It looked much like a cell in a monastery. He had a cot, a table with parchment and a chair, and he had a fire mostly burned down, but wood to feed it. “You asked why I am here. Penance? No, this is like a hermitage, but only part time. I often come here for a few days to pray and seek the Lord. I haven’t much food, but you are welcome to share.”

“And you write?” Kirstie said and noticed the parchments rolled up and sticking out of a basket beside the table.

“Only notes,” he said. “I have taken to study the works of Saint Bede if you heard of him. But among his books I found a copy of the book about Beowulf, a story from your homeland. I must say, it is the strangest book I have ever read. I had to get away for some days to really digest the story and pray about it.”

“All true, mostly,” Kirstie said offhanded as she laid some wood on the fire and let a little fire out of her fingertips to get it burning well. She tried to be careful about it, but Father McAndrews noticed.

“A fire starter?” he asked.

“My Lady is gifted with many unique and special gifts,” Yrsa said.

“Gifted, by who?”

“The almighty,” Kirstie said and stepped over to the cave entrance. She looked down about thirty feet to the sea. “I would not think any gift would be given except as the Lord allowed. God is still in control, you know.”

“Yes, but witchcraft is frowned upon,” the father said.

“And if I were a witch, I would frown upon myself. Fortunately, these gifts are not witchcraft, though they may appear that way to those who are superstitious and do not know any better. God gives all sorts of gifts. To some tongues, to some healing, to some the working of miracles. God gifts evangelists, pastors, teachers, and all sorts of ministries. The apostle did not say his was an exhaustive list covering every possible gift under the sun. I’ll grant you, some of what I can do is unusual. But so are some of my friends. So it goes.” She turned to Yrsa. “This isn’t my skiff. I don’t know if this will work.”

“What is she doing?” Father McAndrews asked Yrsa, but Yrsa quieted him.

“Haddock would be nice, or maybe a salmon if there is trouble jumping up the cliff.” Kirstie yelled. A big wave formed in the distance. Father McAndrews’ eyes widened to see it. When the wave hit the cliff wall, two haddock and a wild salmon shot into the cave, along with too much water. It almost put out the fire, so Kirstie had to stoke it again.

“The sea and the sky are my friends,” Kirstie said, as Father McAndrews came to the edge and looked down into the sea.

“The beauty of this place is the breakers are not so bad. They don’t keep me up all night,” he said. “I always imagined directly below this place the water was extra deep and not filled with rocks to start breaking the waves before they hit the cliff.”

“Or, maybe you have more rocks further out, so the waves are broken before they get to the cliff,” Kirstie countered, and called for her knife, Cutter. It appeared in her hand, something like a bowie knife. She turned first on the haddock, beheaded them, slit them open to dump the innards over the edge, and expertly filleted them. She had been cutting fish for the fire her whole life.

“Do you have anything to grease the pan?” Yrsa asked. Father McAndrews produced some lard along with some bread and cheese. Yrsa started one Haddock cooking, the big one, as Kirstie finished cutting the salmon. She found some rope and a convenient rock and hung the salmon and the other haddock over the fire where they could smoke. She asked about that because the smoke went to the back of the cave and disappeared.

“Somebody well before me cut some holes in the back of the cave that rise to the surface. As long as the breezes come off the sea, the cave is well ventilated, and the smoke does not linger. I have to check the holes now and then to make sure no bird has built a nest in one of them, but they work well. Do you suppose Saint Cuthbert or Saint Aidan made them?”

Kirstie smiled. “It would be nice to think that.” She asked about water.

“Yes, sorry. My water supply is running a bit low. There is a spring a few yards down the opposite way where you were standing, but I have been afraid to come out of my cave with murderous Vikings about, er, sorry. I know I should not fear men, but that is easy to say and not so easy to do.”

“Yrsa,” Kirstie handed her the bucket. “You can go and not be seen by anyone,”

“But the stone way will be slippery in the rain. You must be careful,” Father McAndrews said.

“She is very sure footed.” Kirstie added and smiled for Yrsa. Yrsa did not look happy going out in the rain and carrying a heavy bucket of water. Just to express her unhappiness, she turned herself invisible right in front of the father. “Yrsa has some talents as well,” Kirstie added.

That evening, while it rained outside, they stayed warm and dry inside the cave. They talked about many things. How Kirstie lost her mother and then lost her father but met Yrsa. She praised her friend for kindly crying with her when she was just ten years old. Father McAndrews told them how he got the first name, Fain. He said his father was a joker.

“Father said when someone asks if I am fain to go, I should always answer no, I’m Fain McAndrews. Ha. Ha.” He didn’t laugh.

“Father suits you,” Kirstie decided, and she yawned. Father McAndrews wanted Kirstie to have the bed, but Kirstie refused. “You are an old man who needs his rest. Yrsa and I are young and strong, and used to sleeping on the hard deck of the ship to the sound of breakers on the rolling sea. We will lie by the fire and probably be asleep before you.” So they slept, and sometime in the night it stopped raining.

Medieval 5: K and Y 18 Unexpected Meetings, part 2 of 4

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Kirstie

“Come on Yrsa,” Kirstie said. “Let’s find a soft place to sleep tonight, provided it does not rain. It will be at least another day before Ulf and Odger show up.” She raised her voice to the captains. “If they do not come here in three days, we assume they are not coming at all.”

“What do we do in the meantime?” Someone asked.

“Go fishing. Build fires and camp where we won’t be seen from the mainland. Send spies to the near islands to try and see what is going on in Bamburgh. Put the Scaldi to work. Relax. Smoke if you got ’em.”

“Smoke what?” Yrsa asked as they climbed over a small hill to the sea on the other side of the island. Kirstie did not answer, but she called to her blue dress and Yrsa matched her in green. It was not that her dress was warmer than her armor in the spring sea breezes, but because right then, she did not feel much like murder or mayhem.

Kirstie spoke again when they got to the other side of the island, well away and out of sight from the men. Kirstie looked back once but did not see their shadows of Kare and Thoren. “Looks deserted,” Kirstie said. “In fact, all these islands may be deserted.” They stood at the top of short cliffs and looked down on the sea, and Kirstie had an idea. “Vingevourt,” she called. “Are you there?” She did not want to make him appear before her. She sensed he was busy doing something. She looked up. “Cloud babies, are you able to speak?”

Yrsa stood still and seemed just as fascinated and thrilled as a human would be in the circumstances. The sea churned for a second, and the overcast sky produced two very small puffs of gray cloud that flew straight to her. One little green gingerbread man blob of the sea came shooting out of the breakers and landed softly on the clifftop.

“Lady,” the blob said in his squeaky baby voice. “The sea king is busy with the whales in the north, but I am here. How can I help you.”

“Lady,” the word came from overhead.

“And friend,” another word came from the cloudy puffs that came down to face her, floating gently over the sea cliff.

Kirstie had to think for a second. She turned first to the water sprite. “Fardlevan,” she named the sprite. “What can you tell me about the islands? Are there any people here or on one of the other islands?”

Fardlevan had to think a minute. “There is a family of gnomes that travel from island to island. They are nice people. They help keep the islands green and care for the birds that mostly live here. There is also a small band of fairies on the big island over that way.” He pointed. “They have been very busy in the spring since the wildflowers started to bloom and all the trees went to bud.”

“I think she meant human people,” Yrsa said.

Fardlevan looked like he pulled off the top of his head, but Kirstie imagined it was his hat. He tipped it for the elf before he let it blend back into his body. No one would guess he had a hat. There is one mud person on this very island, but he is hiding in the cave in the cliffs close by here. I think he is afraid. Is that the right word? Afraid?”

Kirstie nodded and turned to the sprites of the air. They blew with the winds, scattering the seeds, whistling through the leaves, lifting the birds into the air, but mostly they picked up water on their journey. When they manifested, they always took cloud form, and they always came in pairs, one male and one female. They said it helped keep the sky in balance and hold the sky to the earth, like the sky might otherwise blow off into the sun. They stayed in balance like their god or goddess, who presently happened to be a goddess for them. “So, Flitter and Flutter, what weather can we look forward to?” Kirstie asked the sprites.

‘Rain.”

“Some drizzles.”

“Some lightning.”

“Some thunder.”

The two sprites sounded like children, not like the cherub-like water babies, but young enough to where sometimes it was hard to tell which was the male voice and which was the female voice. “I hope it won’t rain too hard on the men,” Kirstie said.

“Just a good spring rain.”

“On and off all night.”

“Just enough to annoy them,” Yrsa said softly.

“We can push some away.”

“But only some.”

“And make the lightning strike the sea.”

“The water sprites like the lightning.”

“We do,” Fardlevan said. “It energizes us so we can make really big waves.”

“But we can’t push it all off.”

“Not all of it.”

“It is too heavy.”

“Very heavy and ready to fall.”

“Gonna fall.”

“Thank you very much,” Kirstie interrupted them. The little cloud babies would otherwise go on like that for a long time. “You can go back to your play now. Sorry to interrupt your good work.”

“Not a problem.”

“No problem at all.”

Fardlevan spoke over top. “Glad to do it.” He saluted, jumped off the edge of the cliff, and shattered into a million droplets that blended back into the sea.

“Good-bye. So long. Farewell. Good-bye.” The sprites of the air kept up the litany until they got beyond where Kirstie could hear them. Yrsa probably heard them longer, given her good elf ears, but eventually they blended back into the gray overhead and disappeared.

“Lady,” Yrsa got Kirstie’s attention. She pointed with her head and eyes and Kirstie turned to see a gray-bearded old man walking with a staff along the clifftop. He came straight to them and asked a question. “Are you angels?” The women shook their heads, and Kirstie responded.

“Why would you ask such a question?”

The man put his hand to his beard and looked down for a second before he looked at them and answered. “Because you are both as beautiful as I always imagined angels to be. And second, because I saw you talking to the sea and the clouds as if they were your very good friends.”

“A water sprite and two sprites of the air, and they are good friends, but that does not make me less human,” Kirstie said. “I am Kristina Arnedottir from Strindlos in Norway. My maid is Yrsa.”

“Father McAndrews of Lindisfarne. And I really suspected you were with the Vikings, though you hardly look like thieves and cutthroats.” He looked around to make sure they were not being watched.