Mecca

Medieval 5: K and Y 12 Time to Go, part 2 of 3

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Yasmina

Yasmina mounted and wiped the tears from her own eyes as they walked their horses to the main gate. Al-Rahim led the procession through the streets with Ahmed beside him. Yasmina and Aisha rode side by side, and the two from the harem guards followed. After that, some thirty regular guards from the palace came two by two. That was most unusual. Normally, regular guards were not allowed anywhere near the women. In this case, al-Rahim left most of his contingent in the harem to do their duty.

As they moved slowly through the town, Yasmina saw fear on many faces. The people were not yet in a panic, but near enough. The Qarmatians laid siege to the city, and when they could not break in, their leader, Abu Tahir Sulayman al-Jannabi demanded entrance to the holy city as is the right of all pilgrims. Yasmina’s father felt he had no choice but to comply, though he had every intention of getting his daughter safely out of the city first.

Al-Rahim picked a gate where the enemy was most thinly arrayed. “Walk the horses,” he commanded. “They claim to be peaceful pilgrims. Let us give them a chance to prove it.”

The enemy stared at them in disbelief and uncertainty but made no move to stop them until the end. Someone started shouting in Persian. Aisha translated. “They are ordered to stop us.”

“Ride,” Al-Rahim shouted, and they began to gallop along the rugged path. A couple of arrows followed them, but they missed or fell short. When they got to the top of a rise, Al-Rahim stopped and turned to look back. It did not take long for the Qarmatians to get their own horses and follow. “Ahmed,” al-Rahim said and pointed. Ahmed nodded and began to shout orders. Al-Rahim started down the other side of the rise without another look back. Yasmina and Aisha followed with the two harem guards behind them.

Al-Rahim made them ride hard for an hour before he let them get down and walk their horses for a half-hour. Even without any sign of pursuit, they mounted and rode hard again. This became a pattern, and by the end of the day, Yasmina’s horse and her feet were worn out.

The guards set up a tent in the wilderness, out of sight from the path. Al-Rahim supplied them with cold food and said, “Bundle up. No fire tonight.” Honestly, Yasmina did not care. She found two blankets. She laid down on one, covered herself with the other, and fell asleep before Aisha could finish tying the tent flap closed.

In the morning, moving at a more even and humane pace, they joined the regular road to Medina. Yasmina tried hard to not say anything when she was told it would take them ten or twelve days to get there. At least they did not have to gallop the whole way.

Al-Rahim always managed to find them food, even when they camped in the wilderness. They passed some pilgrims over those days, though the pilgrim business had slimmed way down since the Qarmatians began attacking pilgrim trains. They also passed some merchant caravans. When they camped near a watering hole one evening, though not too near for fear of the wild animals that might come and water in the night, they got invited to supper by one of those caravans. The merchants were anxious to hear the news about the road ahead. They could not tell the merchants much, but they all enjoyed the little feast, so it was a good evening.

They stayed in a few villages along the way where there was a bed for the princess. Yasmina greatly appreciated that, especially since Aisha knew a spell that would cause all the insects to vacate the bed and stay gone for at least twelve hours. They also passed many farms, though they only stayed one night in a man’s barn. No one told the man who Yasmina was, and the guards had taken to wearing plain cloaks over their armor, so they looked like ordinary hired men, no doubt hired to safely escort the two women to Medina.

When they finally arrived in Medina, Yasmina sighed her relief. They went straight to the palace, and though they were a surprise visit, the servants in the palace made them welcome. Yasmina got her mother’s room and Aisha got the pick of several beds in the big room that were for Mother’s maids, or the little room beside Yasmina’s room where Mother’s personal assistant stayed. Aisha chose the single small room and invited two of the older ladies to move into the dormitory-like room so they would be close to hand if needed.

It was a relaxing time, and Yasmina played pilgrim, or maybe tourist and saw all the special places that connected to the Prophet in the first days of the faith. Sadly, it was hardly a week before al-Rahim came rushing in.

“Time to pack,” he said.

“What?” Yasmina wondered what was up. “We just got here.”

“The Qarmatians are a day out from the city. Two at most. They sacked Mecca, and I have no doubt they plan the same for Medina. Get packed.”

“But where will we go?” Yasmina shouted after the man, but he was already headed toward the stables.

“Come on,” Aisha said. “Just bring what you did last time and let’s get going.”

Yasmina changed into her riding clothes and then called for her armor. The virtue of that was when she called for her regular clothes, she would be clothed again in her riding clothes, just in case. Yasmina grumbled quietly as she changed. “But my feet haven’t recovered from the last time.”

“You will toughen up,” Aisha answered, of course having heard with her good elf ears. “Kirstie and Yrsa used to row with the men for hours.”

“I could do that. I got muscles,” Yasmina said. She showed her skinny little arm and Aisha chose not to respond.

Kirstie

Kirstie had to wait three weeks for the little ones in the far north to collect six walrus tusks and bring them to Strindlos. They also brought a polar bear skin, one expertly taken from a large animal that finally succumbed to age. They also reported seeing some frost giants in the area, which did not sound good.

The bear skin was a good addition because it made up for the fairies who could only offer one large pot of honey with the wax. That was very kind of them to offer any honey at all since honey was a big part of their diet. Buttercup insisted and Mariwood supported her. Lord Bjork grumbled, but Lady Bellflower was glad to do it, so the fairy king did not argue.

Lord Amber was the only one that teased Kirstie. “I heard you say this was a one-time deal.”

“Father!” Yrsa scolded her father with the word, but her father smiled.

Kirstie also smiled when she said, “So this is another-time deal.” She paused a second before she said, “I sound like a dwarf.” Alm laughed.

Lord Amber agreed. “It does sound a bit like dwarf logic,” he said, before he handed over a second basket of amber. “Good thing I saved the second basket.” So, all got settled and Kirstie got ready to go.

Kirstie felt reluctant to ask Yrsa to accompany her on this trip. She and Alm were so happy, and still like newlyweds, though Kirstie understood that newlywed phase for elves might last a hundred years. Yrsa interrupted Kirstie’s thoughts when she asked, “So when are we leaving?”

“Are you sure you want to go?” Kirstie asked. “I was just thinking what a great mom you will be. Don’t you want a little Yrsa baby?”

Yrsa looked at Alm and he smiled, but then she turned right back to Kirstie and spoke plainly. “We talked about it. A baby would be wonderful, but right now you are still my baby. I need to come, and help you in any way I can, and be the wild she-bear you once called me, to watch over you. I know it will be dangerous, but I have my bow and I think I’m getting pretty good at it. So, when are we leaving?”

Kirstie rolled her eyes at the thought that Yrsa was only getting pretty good with her bow. Yrsa could fire three arrows in the time it took her to fire one, and she could hit the bullseye with all three. But Alm spoke next.

“We talked about it,” he repeated Yrsa’s words. “But right now, I have two boys like sons, Oswald and Edwin. They need to be watched and taught many things before they will be ready to take over running the farm. Besides, I have a handful of dwarfs to mess things up, and a mostly troll to keep fed. The glamour we managed around Vortesvin helps, but he still looks like a giant. Not anything we can do about that.”

Kirstie nodded. “We go the day after tomorrow. Right now, we need to get Booturn, Bucket, Toodles, Buckles, and Tiny to help carry the things to the ship.”

“Vortesvin might help,” Yrsa suggested, but Kirstie shook her head.

“The whole village knows I have a giant helping on the farm. Some have seen him rip boulders and whole tree stumps right out of the ground. It is one thing to know there is a friendly giant in the distance, but it would be quite another to have him parading through the streets. Alm, I leave it to your judgment, but I think it might be best for him to avoid direct contact with the humans of Strindlos. The dwarfs at the blacksmith’s shop are bad enough.”

“Understood,” Alm did not disagree. “Besides, he is completely enchanted by Fiona. He hardly wants to let her out of his sight.”

Kirstie threw her hands up. “I don’t want to hear about it,” she said.

Medieval 5: K and Y 3 Little Ones, part 2 of 2

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Kirstie

All three fairies seemed disoriented at first, but sight of the elves helped to steady them. “Amber?” the older, male fairy asked what was up by saying the elf’s name. Lord Amber merely pointed at Kirstie. Kirstie did her best to sound grown up.

“Lord Bjork. Do you know the disposition of the Vanlil—the Jamts and the exiled men around the king’s house and the town on the Nid River?”

Lord Bjork looked at Kirstie, Yrsa beside her, and back at Amber who waved toward Kirstie as if to say he should answer her. “We saw the men come down from the mountains and thought no good would come of it. We saw many villages on this side of the Trondelag fjord be attacked in the outlying farms. We know the men have moved on to the king’s house and the town, but we do not know how they are disposed.”

“I need to know how they are arrayed,” Kirstie said, or Elgar said it in her head. “Do you have any that can fly there and bring back numbers and maybe give an idea of their plan of attack? I see that you do. Eik and Svator,” she called, and the two younger fairies appeared as if out of nowhere. It took Kirstie a little time to explain what she needed, but she knew they would fly to the river, check on the enemy, and be back by the night meal, possibly before the men from Oglo and Frosta arrived.

Kirstie looked again at the patient dwarfs, a most unusual sight, and the elves that might stand there for days if needed. “I don’t know if it is right to ask for your help. I don’t even know what the men will be facing. I do not know how the battle may shape up, but if there is a place for you, I will not forget you.”

Lord Amber nodded that he understood. “The gods don’t make promises,” he said to Booturn who reluctantly nodded and let out a great sigh.

“In the meantime, Lady Bellflower, may I borrow your daughter for a while? Buttercup, would you like to be friends with me and Yrsa?”

“Yes,” Buttercup said quickly and a bit loud.

“With your mother’s permission, of course. You girls can meet my human guardian, Inga. She is very nice. You will like her. And we can stay among the Witcher Women tonight if you don’t mind.”

“And Mother Vrya will be there?” Lady Bellflower asked.

“Yes. Certainly, for the night,” Kirstie answered.

“Then I am sure it will be all right. Lady Kairos.” Bellflower offered a mid-air curtsey, and Kirstie noticed understanding came to Lord Bjork’s face, like he was not sure.

Kirstie stood in leggings and did not know how to curtsey, so she bowed. “And thank you Lord Amber and you too, Booturn for saving our lives.”

Booturn groused. “We would have if the skinnies had not interfered.”

“Well, thank you anyway. Meanwhile, we need to get back. Inga is probably worried about me. Buttercup.” Kirstie tapped her shoulder and Buttercup shouted, “Yes!” and Kirstie imagined this time the fairy pumped her little fist in the air as she zoomed up and took a seat, tugging only slightly of Kirstie’s hair to get comfortable. Of course, it was impossible to tell with a small fairy seen from a bad angle.

Yasmina

Yasmina spent that whole week moping and worried. She mostly stayed in her rooms and in her bed. Sometimes, she walked in the garden. Sometimes she went up on the wall to look down on the town and the marketplace, what she could see of it. Sometimes she went to the latticed windows and watched the soldiers and the comings and goings in the courtyard of the palace. Sometimes she wandered the halls of the harem looking sorry and lost. Mostly she stayed in her rooms and moped and worried.

She made a couple of friends among her father’s concubines, but they were mostly older, like Inga’s age, and hardly friends with a ten-year-old. They were good to ask what was wrong, but she could not tell them. Sometimes the slave girls who served in the kitchens and brought food to her room, and the maids who cleaned and straightened all the rooms asked, but she stayed silent. Every day after working out with the harem guards and assigning their duties for the day, al-Rahim asked what was troubling her. She just shook her head against unauthorized ears.

“Princess. I will be here if you need me or wish to talk about it.”

Yasmina knew that and hugged the man for his faithfulness.

Yasmina’s mother came twice at the end of the week. But it was no good. Yasmina would not snap out of her mood, and she would not explain it.

Finally, a young maid came to her with a snack for the afternoon. She placed the snack on the table and did something most unusual. Instead of offering a bow and exiting to return to the kitchen, or even asking what had Yasmina so worried and anxious, she quietly sat on the floor, lowered her eyes, and waited for Yasmina to speak.

Yasmina looked before she stared and squinted at the girl. When she spoke, it was one word. “Yrsa?”

“I am Aisha,” the maid said. “Yrsa is my distant cousin.” Yasmina sat up and her eyes went wide as Aisha began to tell her story. “One day, there were two brothers in a place called Kyiv. One felt the call of the cold, snowy north. He loved the winter, and he wanted to find the source of the Amber he cherished. The other felt the call of the warm, dry south. He loved the summer, and he sought after the emeralds that fascinated him. The brothers also loved each other but they heeded the call on their lives. They hugged and one went north while the other went south.”

“Wait a minute,” Yasmina made her pause. “When are we talking about? Kyiv has not been there that long.”

“Not as Kyiv,” Aisha agreed. “But there has been a village of one sort or another there for ages. I am speaking of the days when the Kairos Flern first brought the bronze making to the steppes.” She paused to let Yasmina process what she was saying. “The brothers left the area around the Caspian Sea and followed the army of the east when it invaded the west.”

“But…” Yasmina paused to calculate, and she heard for the first time from the Storyteller who estimated the year. “But that was 4400 years ago, SE—Storyteller’s estimate.”

“It was,” Aisha agreed, and smiled her relief. She would have been in terrible trouble if she mentioned something from the Kairos’ past that the Kairos herself could not remember. That was the law from ancient times. “Yrsa and I are the tenth generation since the brothers went their separate ways. I did not know I had a cousin in the far north, but Yrsa put together the clues in Kirstie’s early years. When Kirstie left… When you were born, Yrsa reached out to this place and confirmed her feelings. Her father, Lord Amber, and my father, Lord Emerald made contact over that long distance. The blood ties are still strong. And at that time, I came to work as a maid servant in this house, though this is the first time I have had a chance to see you with my own eyes.”

“Well…” Yasmina did not know what to say and could not speak through her sudden tears in any case except to say, “I am so afraid for Kirstie.” She began to weep.

“Lord al-Rahim,” Aisha called, and the man came from the other room where he listened behind the crack in the door while Aisha moved to sit on the bed, hug Yasmina, and cry with her.

“Princess. Why are you so afraid for Kirstie?” Al-Rahim asked kindly, no longer questioning the connection between his princess and the yellow-haired girl from the land of the Vikings. He certainly knew who the Vikings were.

Eventually, Yasmina got out the words. “She is my age, just ten, a young girl, and she is going into battle. Her home is invaded. She is leading the men. Things got complicated. She has weapons but does not know how to use them. She has no teacher. And worse. She is the one who has to fight the hag. A terrible monster. Tall and wide as that doorway. Strong as an ogre from the mountains. Faster than the imps of the desert. More powerful than the great genie, the marid of all genies. I am afraid she is going to get herself killed. She thinks that too, and there is nothing I can do to help her.”

“We can pray for her,” al-Rahim suggested.

Hours later, well after the sun set, Yasmina, Aisha, and al-Rahim sat around the table eating and laughing. Yasmina’s mother and father entered the room to this pleasant scene and stopped in the entranceway with questions on their faces.

Al-Rahim jumped to his feet and stood at attention. Aisha slipped to the floor and got to her knees her eyes humbly lowered in the presence of the Lord of Mecca. Yasmina also jumped up and ran to hug her father. She hugged her mother while her father spoke.

“Captain?” he looked at al-Rahim.

“We have resolved the princess’ troubles for the moment, but there are a few conditions.”

Yasmina let go of her mother, took two steps back and spouted. “I want a horse, two horses, me and Aisha. I have taken Aisha as my personal maid and companion, and we want to learn how to ride.”

“Baby.” Mother called her that sometimes when she got all parental and Mother knows best. “Girls do not ride horses. They are carried in a proper litter.”

“I want a horse,” Yasmina raised her voice, but just a little. “What is more, al-Rahim has promised to teach me and Aisha to defend ourselves. You know, a girl can’t be too careful in this world.” Mother was not buying it, so Yasmina looked at her father. “Please, daddy.”

The Lord of Mecca glanced at al-Rahim who nodded slightly. He turned to his daughter. “I’ll see what I can arrange,”

“Baby…” Mother started in again, but Father took her hand and dragged her from the room before she could say anything. Aisha and al-Rahim both exhaled.

Medieval 5: K and Y 1 Twins not Twins, part 1 of 3

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Kirstie

After 883 A. D. Trondelag, Norway

Kairos 104 Lady Kristina of Strindlos

Early in the 870s, a Norwegian chieftain by the name of Harald Fairhair defeated his enemies at sea and proclaimed himself King of Norway. Asserting his claim on land was not quite so easy. Eventually, the chiefs and petty kings who refused to submit, or simply did not like the man who would be king, were killed or driven out and sent into exile. Many emigrated to Danelaw or took refuge in the island ruled by the Angles and Saxons, or the Island kingdoms of the North Sea. Norsemen by the boatload fled to the north coast of France, and in such numbers the coast would one day be called Normandy or the land of the Norse. Plenty fled over the mountains to Jamtaland, and while that came back to haunt Kirstie’s village when she was young, some strange and some ordinary things happened first.

Three young men fought for Fairhair aboard the ship of Captain Birger of Strindlos in the fjord called Trondelag. They were Haken, Thorbald, and Arne the Navigator. Haken was pledged to a woman in Strindlos and after the war, he settled down to his farm and in 881 they had a daughter, Hilda. Arne brought home a wife Helga, from a trading expedition among the Swedes. She was a lovely woman and eighteen months after Hilda was born, in 883, Arne and Helga had a daughter that Helga, a secret Christian, named Kristina. They called her Kirstie. Two years later, Thorbald came back from a journey to Northumbria with a wife and baby girl named Liv. The men were disappointed at all having daughters instead of sons, but they loved their daughters well.

Yasmina

After 914 A. D. The Hejaz and North Africa

Kairos 105 Yasmina, Princess of Mecca and Medina

Curiously, at the exact same time Kirstie was born, another girl was born. It happened thirty-one years later and on a different day in a different month, but it was at the exact same time as far as the babies were concerned, as odd as that sounds.

Two men marched into the audience hall at the same time. One was a bearded warrior, well built, dressed in a fine uniform, a sword at his side. The other was a blubbery mess in a diaper and covered in sweat that his toga or big towel could not hide. They were both eunuchs come from the harem, but like night and day to look at them.

The soldier said, “My lord,” when he stepped up to the throne. He tipped his head like something between a bow and a salute. The Lord and the men he conversed with stopped talking to hear what the soldier had to say. The soldier smiled and nudged the man at his feet with his foot. The blubbery men who had prostrated himself lifted his head from the floor and spoke.

“Your blessed wife has delivered a child, a girl, you have a daughter. Your most fair wife has instructed me to remind you of your promise. I do not know what that may be, but your blessed wife seeks a name for the child. I was sent to ask that I may bear the name to her. I am yours to command.” He returned his face to the floor and shivered a little, not that he was cold in the ninety-degree heat and all that fat, but because he feared his Lord’s anger at not having a son.

The Lord of Mecca and Medina who ruled the Hijaz in the Caliph’s name smiled ever so slightly. “Tell my wife the child’s name shall be Yasmina, as we agreed. Perhaps next time she will have the good sense to have a son.”

“My lord,” the blubbery one said. He got slowly to his feet while he bowed and bowed. He backed out of the room before he turned and ran without ever looking up. The lord paid him no mind as he turned to the soldier.

“Captain Muhammad al-Rahim, my old friend and mentor. Now you have a princess to guard. Keep her safe above all.”

“My lord.” The soldier offered a full, formal bow, turned, and marched back to the harem.

Kirstie

Of course, neither baby had a conscious thought about each other, but in the back of their infant minds there seemed to be some kind of connection. Kirstie dreamed about Yasmina now and then, even about being Yasmina in a very strange and different world, but they were only dreams, weren’t they? She did sometimes wonder if maybe they were something more.

Kirstie and Hilda became best friends, and when older, Liv joined the group. Kirstie and Hilda sometimes treated Liv like a tag-along, but they were never mean to the girl, it is just that nearly four years difference between Hilda and Liv made it hard when they were growing and changing from girls to young women. Kirstie often had to mediate between the two, and Liv’s generally bad attitude did not help. Still, they did plenty of things together, and not just for the friendship of their fathers. In truth, Strindlos was a small village and there were not many options for friends.

One of the ordinary events happened when Kirstie’s mother had a son. The boy was born in 885, about the time Thorbald brought home his wife and daughter, but the boy died in his first winter. An all-too-common occurrence. A baby sister got born in 890, but by then, seven-year-old Kirstie was making her own way in the world. Her best friend Hilda was nearly nine, as Hilda said. “Nearly nine.”

Kirstie’s babysitter, or the equivalent in that day, was the orphan girl Inga. Mother needed the teenager to help when she had her son and then lost her son. That was a hard time for her. She needed the teenager again to watch Kirstie when she had another daughter because Arne was away guiding his ship and Kirstie was still too young to be left on her own. Inga did not mind, and it gave Mother a chance to slip the orphan girl a few coins, so it worked out.

Inga spent most of her time studying with Mother Vrya. Mother Vrya was the gray-haired Volve and village Skald, that is, the wise woman and storyteller. She was the old wife who told the proverbial old wives’ tales, and generally acted as the village pharmacist, healer, and all-around fountain of knowledge and wisdom, consulted by chiefs up and down the fjord which at least brought the occasional ship to Strindlos.

Kirstie got to sit in on some of Inga’s learning sessions and found Mother Vrya’s teaching fascinating. She also showed remarkable and sometimes spooky insight into many things she should not have known about. She claimed it was the good Doctor Mishka and Mother Greta from Dacia who told her about these things. Of course, she could not exactly explain who those women were because at age seven, eight, and nine she did not understand it herself. About the best she could do was say those women were in her heart along with her dream girl, Yasmina. At the same time, she said she was not a Volve, and she did not want to become one of the Skald. Her poetry was terrible. Kirstie said she would probably become a Shield Maiden and there was not anything they could do about it.