Northumbria

Medieval 6: K and Y 10 Trouble at Home, part 1 of 2

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Kirstie

Captain Olaf’s crew rowed plenty between the towns. The sail only got set a few times. They had to watch out for the small islands and rocks that stuck out from the sea like pretend islands. But then the crew got plenty of rest when the captain and his officers bargained in port. Even so, they were glad when the sail went up and they headed for home. Of course, the closer they got the more nervous Kirstie became.

Wilam laughed.

Kirstie, Wilam, Soren, and Yrsa stayed in Bamburgh for a week while Captain Olaf met with the buyers for his grain, hides, and furs. He did not get as much as he wanted for his grain, but he got more than expected for the furs, so it evened out. The captain set aside enough for the next trip. His crew got paid out of the profit. It came to so much per week depending on the position aboard ship, and a small bonus for a successful trip. No one would get rich, but it paid better than breaking your back on a farm plot all year, and most of the crew agreed to the fall sailing. Captain Olaf only had to fill a few spots before he would be ready to go on the first of September.

“We have sailed the fall route for ten years,” he told Kirstie. “Flanders, Brittany where they have apples in the fall, Wessex, and Kent. By December first at the latest we should be in East Anglia. Then we may stop in Lindsay and should be home for the hard part of winter. January and February we all relax and gather on the first of March. Spring and summer we used to trade in the north. Edinburgh, Aberdeen, Orkney, and Shetland Islands, and sometimes the Hebrides if we get a delivery contract. We went twice to the Faroe Islands, and once all the way to Iceland.”

“Greenland?” Kirstie asked.

Captain Olaf squinted to think. “No. Where is Greenland?”

Kirstie imagined she was ahead of herself. “So, what prompted you to attempt the waters of those terrible Vikings?”

“We had an invitation, a name, and a reason to go,” Captain Olaf admitted. “Trade in Scotland and the Islands has gotten crowded with ships. It is hard to make a living competing with so many. But Norway. No one has dared the Norse lands for more than a hundred years. If we can be the first to establish several ports for trade, we might not get rich, but we can make a good living. A few more trips like this last one and I might even buy a second ship.”

“And you don’t mind me taking Wilam at this time?” Kirsti asked.

“You go on,” Captain Olaf said. “I first sailed as a navigator and my skills are not that rusty. Besides, I think I could sail the Flanders route with my eyes closed. Take the four weeks of August, just send Brant back to me by the first of September and we will do fine.”

Kirstie planted a kiss on the old man’s cheek and got in the wagon Wilam rented. She took Soren from Yrsa’s arms and loved on the boy, and then tried hard not to complain when the wagon driver hit every rock and pothole he could find. Of course, Wilam and Brant rode on horseback which Kirstie thought was hardly fair, but then she could not exactly take Soren safely on the back of a horse and he was getting too big and heavy for her backpack.

“Mrs. Mom,” she called herself, along with “Mrs. Ouch.”

Lucker was primarily a Danish settlement built up when Halfdan Ragnarsson came storming through the area in 875-876. Wilam was actually born to an Anglish woman in January or February of 878 which made him five years older than Kirstie and raised some question about the timing as to when Halfdan actually went to Dublin. Brant was five years older than Wilam, being born in 873, shortly after the time the people of Northumbria threw off their Danish puppet ruler, Ecgberht I in favor of King Ricsige. King Ricsige only ruled three years before Wilam’s father, Halfdan came in 875 and threw him out.

“Politics, politics,” Kirstie said without explaining.

When they came upon Lucker in the early afternoon, they hurried. They saw smoke, and several homes and buildings, including the church burning brightly. It took no time at all to figure out what happened. Brant and Wilam headed straight for Brant’s home. Kirstie and the wagon stopped in the central square. There were dead bodies around the square, some local men, and some women along with a few Vikings bodies.

Kirstie got down and examined the faces. There were not many Vikings, but she did not have to see many to name the culprits. Njal the Giant, Odger from Vigg, and Kare. At least one of the dead men was from Strindlos. “They waited four years,” Kirstie cried to Yrsa. “They came back because they got away with it so easily on the first trip.” Kirstie got angry thinking about it. “They can’t have docked in the same cove by Howick, but they can’t be far to the coast.”

“Maybe they were seen,” Yrsa suggested.

Kirstie shook her head as Wilam rode up. “Come on, we need your help. Mother Greta maybe,” he said, indicating that there were injuries. Kirstie and Yrsa with Soren mounted the wagon right away and the wagon driver followed Wilam. The house looked fine but inside, Brant’s younger brother was laid out on the bed, his mother sat in the kitchen where she collapsed into a chair. She had a deep cut in her leg. One Viking body blocked the door. Kirstie recognized the body as one of Captain Odger’s men.

Kirstie kissed Wilam’s cheek and traded places through time with Mother Greta. She paused in the doorway to look at Eadmund before she sewed up Brant’s mother’s leg using the self-dissolving thread Doctor Mishka had in her medical bag.

“But what of Eadmund?” Brant asked in his concern. Eadmund, all of twenty-four, a bit more than a year younger than Wilam laid out on the bed and did not moan too much as he passed in and out of consciousness. Sadly, Mother Greta shook her head for Eadmund as she worked on Brant’s Mother’s leg.

“I’m sorry,” Greta said. “There is nothing I can do for him. He won’t suffer for long.”

“Eadmund,” Brant’s mother cried out before she began to cry. She wanted to see him but Greta would not let her walk to him. Brant carried her and set her in a chair by Eadmund’s bed.

Wilam and the wagon driver picked up the Viking in the doorway and threw the body in the street. Men would come and collect the body soon enough. Wilam came back in to sit with Kirstie in the kitchen. He told about growing up next door to Brant. It was not news to Kirstie but talking kept Wilam’s mind occupied and not focused on death.

Halfdan set my mother up in the house next door and charged Brant’s father with watching over her. I was born, and she lived alone for three years before Eadgyd and Sven, Brant’s mother and father introduced her to Espen. Espen became my stepfather when I was about Soren’s age. My mother had a girl, Mary Katherine when I was five, nearly six. She is a year younger than you, twenty, I think. My brothers are Ecgberht, he is seventeen, and Godric is fourteen.

“And Mary Katherine is not married,” Kirstie wanted to get the story straight.

“She was,” Wilam said. “She married a man I never met when she was sixteen, but he disappeared after a month, and we haven’t heard from him since.”

Kirstie felt sorry for Mary Katherine but thought to change the subject. “You moved?” Kirstie asked, knowing Wilam lived in Ellingham, the English town about an hour away. Of course, she already knew all of this, but Wilam seemed to need to talk, so she encouraged him.

“Yes. My father got a chance to buy a good farm outside of Ellingham when I was fifteen. I told him I was not interested in farming. Brant was going to sea and that sounded much more adventurous.”

“Yes, about that…”

“Oh, that is easy to explain. Captain Olaf got the chance to buy his ship, but he needed a crew and decided not any men would do. He came to Lucker to recruit among the old Danish sailors that once owned the North Sea. Brant was eighteen when he first went to sea, being the son of a sailor. That was twelve or thirteen years ago. I was thirteen and missed him, especially two years later when we moved to Ellingham. So, I told my father I was not interested in farming and he, with my mother’s permission, let me move in with Brant’s family where Brant’s father Sven first taught me about navigation. He said Brant and Eadmund did not have the eyes or patience for charts and stars. He also said if I was serious about wanting to go to sea, I had to develop the skill to make myself a valuable crewmember.”

“When did you sail?” Kirstie asked. “I was fourteen when I guided Rune’s longship to Bremen.”

“I was seventeen before Captain Olaf agreed to take me.”

“Wilam,” Brant interrupted them from the other room. “Father and Hrothgar went out and Father left Eadmund here to protect the house. There has been no word from them. I don’t want to leave Eadmund and Mother alone. Would you see what you can find out?”

“Of course,” Wilam said.

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Monday

The trouble reaches Wilam’s home and they will have to chase the kidnappers. until then, Happy Reading.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who are they?” Inga asked softly.

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

“Mama?” Soren watched her closely.

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

“Like Papa?” he asked.

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

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

“Wilam?” she whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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MONDAY

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

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Medieval 5: K and Y 17 Surprises, part 2 of 4

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Kirstie

Harrold and Ulf surprised Kirstie when they walked up to Kirstie and Harrold asked straight out. “Which way do we go?”

To Kirstie’s surprised face, Ulf added, “It is your plan. Best we travel in a way that avoids hamlets and farms where the people might see and give warning.”

“Why are you asking me? I’ve never been to Northumbria.”

Harrold smiled for her, and it was a wicked smile. “Why don’t you ask your maid and her elf friends. Maybe some of those little things that flitter around the home of the Witcher Women. Maybe this place has some little hairy men like the ones working with Svend. The blacksmith has never produced such good work as in the last year or so.”

“Dwarfs,” Kirstie said. “The little hairy men are dwarfs, and I would not recommend speaking badly of them. They are experts at holding a grudge and getting even.”

“Lady,” Yrsa interrupted. “We can go this way.” She pointed up the beach. Ulf looked around like he expected to see some fairies or light elves, but Harrold smiled more broadly and got the men up and moving.

Kirstie added one note to the captains. “We can avoid the obvious farms and Hamlets along the way, but you better tell the men to keep quiet or we will be heard long before we are seen.”

Yrsa and Kirstie walked out front and whispered. Kare and Thoren followed them like they were not about to let the women get out of sight. Kirstie looked back now and then to be sure the men were keeping up, but all she saw was Kare’s vapid smile. It made Kirstie curl her lip in response.

Kirstie could know and hear from the little ones that volunteered to lead the group, but being strictly mortal and human, she would risk getting a headache. Yrsa was tied directly into the network of little ones and could hear and sense the way to go without much effort at all. She did most of the leading and relayed the information to Kirstie, not that either of them had to concentrate on the directions. Mostly, the directions consisted of keep going straight in the direction you are going.

Around noon, Kirstie sent word back that they should be extra quiet. They had to thread the needle between two small hamlets and their farm fields that practically touched. One field had men working, but they got called off for some reason and went down the back of a hill and out of sight as the Vikings moved by. Kirstie got the word as well as Yrsa. “Someone is helping us.” Kirstie did not want to think about it.

They stopped shortly in a wooded area where they could eat and rest. “No fires,” Kirstie insisted, and the captains agreed with that.

“The smoke would be seen for miles.” Captain Erikson spelled it out.

The afternoon was much the same, and they stopped early in a meadow on the side of a hill, surrounded by deep forest. Kirstie showed the three places where the men could build their fires for the night. She explained that the rocks, and the natural contour of the hill, plus the trees would block the light from the fire. Also, the wind appeared to be blowing in the right direction to take the smoke away from the village.

“This is not good farmland, being full of rocks on the hillside,” she told the captains. “The village fields start on the other side of the hill, and there is a road that comes around the hill and leads to the village center. We can pick up the road in the morning when we reach the fields. Meanwhile, though it is less than ten days into May, the day was warm, and I expect the night will not get too cold. Let the men eat and sleep tonight so they will be rested and ready to go in the morning.”

“What about after the deed is done?” Odger asked.

“We cut diagonally through the land back to Howick. A false trail is being laid that points due east toward the sea. Even if they gather fighting men right away, and even if they have horses, they should head toward the sea. By the time they figure it out and come down the coast looking for our ships, we should be well away.” That was all Kirstie planned to say, but then she thought she better add one more note. “Just remember, we can burn houses and loot everything, but we need to drive the people away. We especially want the women and children to complain to the king. Desperate women and children will get the men in Bamburgh moving like nothing else, so no indiscriminate killing.” The captains looked like they were half listening.

Kirstie got awakened by Yrsa before dawn. Gunhild got enlisted to wake them, but Yrsa sensed they were coming so she got Kirstie up and ready. The captains Harrold, Ulf, and Odger had a request. Captain Erikson was kept out of it for some reason.

“You two need to put on your blue and green dresses,” Harrold said. “You need to go into the village and check it out. Let us know where the men are gathering, and if there are any fighters or soldiers in the town, we need to know where they are.”

“The general layout of the place would help,” Odger added.

“I expect you back here two hours after sunrise. That should give us enough time to move in and do the deed and be gone by noon. We will have to move fast but knowing what we are doing will speed things nicely.”

“You don’t want to run into a troop of soldiers or find a local fortress near the town,” Kirstie concluded.

“As you say,” Ulf spoke kindly, though it was clearly not his natural voice. “We wish to minimize the fighting and killing.”

Kirstie frowned at the men and stood. She packed her little bag and glanced at Gunhild. The woman stood with her mouth open. Who knew what she was thinking except maybe sending two young girls in to spy on a strange town seemed dangerous. Kirstie also glanced at Kare and Thoren who were not far away and still snoring, not aware that anything was happening. Kirstie caught a sudden image of Kare as a husband. The burglars could break into the house, rape her, and steal everything, and Kare would sleep through it all.

“We will be back,” Kirstie said with, “Come on Yrsa.”

“Don’t you need to change?” Harrold asked.

“Don’t worry. We will be dressed properly before we get to the village.”

Kirstie and Yrsa got to the road and out of sight of the men behind them before they changed. Kirstie called her blue dress out of Avalon. It replaced her armor and weapons. Yrsa simply had to touch her fairy weave and think what she wanted, and her leather changed into the green dress she liked.

“Let’s try and stay out of the mud,” Kirstie mumbled and said nothing else until they came to the village center. There were only a few people up and out that early. The blacksmith was stoking his fires. One woman was setting a stand in the market area and another woman complained that she was taking her spot. One man walked down the road beside an ox drawn wagon full of hay. A few men stood around the front of a shop, talking quietly, and Kirstie recognized one of them. She said, “Wilam.”

Wilam turned to see who called him. Kirstie stopped a few feet away and watched Wilam’s face turn slowly from curiosity to recognition. “Kirstie?” He got it right.

Kirstie tried not to smile too hugely. “You remembered.”

“It took a second because I never imagined, well, I imagined, but I never saw you in a proper dress,” he said. “You look very nice… Lovely… Beautiful… Stop me when I get to the right word.”

“Any of those will do fine,” she responded and looked down to check herself. She wanted to make a good appearance. “But what are you doing here?” she said, some concern creeping into her voice.

“I live here. Why? What are you doing here?” He picked up on her concern.

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MONDAY

Kirstie spies out the Northumbrian village and has to try and save as many people as she can. Until then, Happy Reading.

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Medieval 5: K and Y 16 Going Again, part 3 of 4

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Kerga looked around the room and said, “The ships can sail separately and meet up in the cove above Howick, maybe in the night.” He looked at Kirstie and she frowned and thought good luck timing that. They would be seen no matter what they did.

“You can at least minimize their suspicion by traveling separately. Seeing only one or two ships together should not raise any serious alarms.” She added, “You know Fairhair will be blamed for the raid even if he has nothing to do with it. He won’t be happy. At the least he will demand the lion’s share of what you are paid.”

“We will deal with the king after the deed is done. First, let’s get paid or there won’t be any shares,” one of the strangers said.

“So, what have you planned?” Kirstie asked. The men looked at each other, but at least the men of Strindlos and Chief Kerga were not against sharing.

“Here,” Harrold said and pointed to the map. “Howick is a small village by a great cemetery and there is a manor house, wooden, like the king’s house used to be beside the growing town of Nidarosss. North of Howick is a sheltered area where we can bring our ships and hope to hide so the people of Howick are not alerted.” He paused to look around at the men before he continued. “We have mostly agreed that attacking a village on the shore will not bring out the army. That would just be a raid, and a terrible shame, but nothing the king can do about it. We need to march about a day inland and attack the village of Eglingham. An inland village will make it look more like an invasion, or at least like we are the vanguard of an invasion. That might move the army to come out.” He looked around at the men and saw no objections, but Kirstie shook her head.

“You think not?” Chief Kerga said to her.

“You have the right idea, making them think you are scouting the land for a possible invasion, but one village will still be seen as a simple raid, or maybe a clever raid where you go inland to a less well defended village. But you don’t want to kill the people. Invaders don’t necessarily kill the people they plan to rule. Better to chase them off so they run to the king in their panic.”

“But if an inland village will not be enough, what do you suggest?”

“Two inland villages,” she said, and did a quick head count. “You have six longships.”

“Maybe eight or more,” One of the other captains said.

Kirstie nodded to that. “Land in two places. Maybe the second place can be the mouth of the Coquet River. Leave ten men from each ship to guard the ships. A hundred raiders in each group should be enough for a typical village. March north in the night. Find a secluded place in the wilderness where you can rest and eat well before the action. The southern group can strike Edlingham. The northern group can strike Ellingham, right under the king’s nose. That should get his attention. Burn a few houses. Take whatever gold and silver you find. Run the people off, and quickly leave. Any soldiers will assume you marched straight from the shore. They will look for your ships here, along the coast below Bamburgh. and here, maybe at the mouth of the river Ain.”

The men were smiling, but Jarl asked, “Why leave so many at the ships?”

“Ten men per ship will be enough to defend the ships and maybe scare off the locals. In the worst case, ten men is enough to take the ships out to the safety of the sea. You can arrange a way to signal the ships at sea so they can come back in to pick you up if necessary.”

“Clarify again. Why chase off the people?” Rune asked. He was not objecting to the idea. He obviously wanted the other captains to understand, especially any who might let their men run wild and slaughter the whole village.

“You don’t want to get your own men killed fighting for a foreign king unless you are being paid extra.” She paused to let the captains think about that. “Besides, you want panic among the people. Survivors run in every direction and spread the word of an invasion. Some will no doubt run to Bamburgh to fetch the army and sew fear among the people there. Nobody will run anywhere if you kill them all. Burn a few houses, take some things, and chase off the people.”

“What about Rothbury? That is a good-sized place not far from Edlingham. They might send soldiers.”

Kirstie shook her head. “As I recall from my father’s notes, the Rothbury area is mostly Danish settlements. They will probably hesitate, and that is all you will need. Once the inland villages are ruined, the groups hurry back to Howick and the Coquet where your ships are located and sail off. You can rendezvous in the Farne Islands and regroup. From there, you can watch what happens in Bamburgh. If the army does not empty the city, we can relax and rethink. If the army moves out, as we hope, we can do some damage to the city and Cnut should be happy with that, and maybe generous. I would not try to take the city unless you have hundreds more men in mind than are presently represented here. Even without the army, the city will still be defended and will still have strong walls. But we might harass them and burn enough to disturb them.”

“Allow me to swallow my words,” Captain Ulf said. “That is exactly the plan we will follow.”

One of the other captains spoke. “I understand King Cnut plans to negotiate with King Eadwulf II of Northumbria and offer certain protections from Norse raids and an alliance against another invasion, like the invasion of Halfdan Ragnarsson. He hopes for certain concessions, to take half of the northern kingdom, in particular the coastal areas without ever engaging in a fight.”

The man’s number one finished the thought. “Once Cnut gathers his army at Rothbury, which is a strong Danish area as you say, he hopes to march to Bamburgh without resistance through the Anglo-Saxon areas that we have frightened so badly. He is hoping then King Eadwulf will bow to the inevitable and surrender his throne with a minimum of bloodshed. That way King Cnut can save his army for the future.”

Kirstie nodded, but said, “I am not concerned about the politics for now. As long as you understand that nothing ever goes exactly to plan, and it will depend on the leaders keeping their men in line. Now, I have an inevitable delay. I need a month. Two would be better.”

“King Cnut wants us to have accomplished our mission by the end of spring.”

“Fair enough. We sail on May first, and you better not leave without me.”

“You will be coming?” Harrold asked, though he knew she would come. She was the one who wanted to go to Northumbria.

“Another hag?” Jarl asked.

“No, the god of the hags,” she said. “And I may have to kill him.” She nodded to Inga, and they left the men to chew on what she said and do whatever it was that men did.

The only thing Inga said on the way back to Kirstie’s house was, “I see you tried to minimize the fighting and bloodshed.”

“These men were planning to go no matter what I said,” Kirstie agreed. “I tried to suggest the advantages of letting people live on both sides of the fight. It was the least I could do.”

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MONDAY

Yasmina seeks refuge in Egypt, but the situation is delicate. Meanwhile, Kirstie has agreed to be part of a genuine Viking raid as her only way to get to Northumbria. Happy Reading.

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Medieval 5: K and Y 16 Going Again, part 2 of 4

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Kirstie would not be going anywhere before spring, maybe late spring depending on how long Fiona carried. The woman would have to stay in bed for the last trimester. Any moving around would likely break her spine. Doctor Mishka checked her regularly and prayed the baby would favor his human side. The baby seemed like a real fifty-fifty, so she prepared to take him out with a cesarian section. Fortunately, she had some practice with Hilda’s baby, and knew Inga could assist.

The boys were excited, especially Edwin, the younger. He was happy to let someone else be the baby brother. Birdie harped on Booturn and said he should spend more time with his own children. He did. In fact, he got drunk any number of times with his daughter’s husband, who was plenty full grown. But he went up into the mountains to do that while Birdie stayed and knitted wool outfits for the baby.

“Hard to do when you don’t know what size, exactly,” Birdie said. “But the wool stretches some, so we hope.”

Kirstie just nodded. She seemed to nod a lot since she got home. The shipbuilders wanted to clear a stand of trees on her land. She nodded. The elves in the woods all but adopted Oswald and Edwin, and Alm took them hunting regularly. They were always good to ask first, and she nodded. Some of the fairy tribe asked sweetly if they could move closer to Inga and the Witcher Women. Kirstie nodded, but she thought it best if they avoid being seen by other than Inga and maybe Mother Vrya.

“But we already made friends with the women,” Buttercup told her.

Kirstie nodded and said, “But no one else if you can help it.” She said if they can help it so they could have an excuse if it happened, or maybe when it happened.

Finally, near the end of March, when Fiona reached the baby could come at any time point, Inga came to fetch Kirstie for what Inga was told was an important meeting.

“All three captains Harrold, Jarl, and Rune are there with Chief Kerga.”

“Yeah,” Kirstie grumped. “Rune was not going anywhere, and he sailed off as soon as I sailed out of the fjord with Jarl.”

Inga ignored Kirstie’s complaint. “I do not know what the meeting is about, but there are three other captains there with their skipari. Two are from the far north. I think one is from Maerin. The third is from Vigg in the Skaun. He is an ugly one. They are planning something big and looking at a map when they argue.”

Kirstie did not think that sounded good. She imagined all sorts of terrible things before she asked, “What do they want me for?”

“That is what I would like to know.”

When they arrived at the big house, the men quieted for a minute. Kirstie marched in with Inga. She came dressed in her armor, which she had taken to wearing regularly because it felt so comfortable. She had a knife at her side, but no other noticeable weapons on her person. She knew she could call to her weapons, and they would come to her from Avalon, the island of the Kairos in the Second Heavens where they were kept, so she did not worry about that.

“What is this all about?” she asked and pushed up to the table where the men were worrying around the map. It was a map of Northumbria. She had a similar one among her father’s navigation papers.

“You said you were interested in going to Northumbria,” Jarl said.

Kirstie paused to look at the men. One mean looking man stood next to Captain Harrold. A very tall man stood next to the mean one, and she had to stare for a second to figure something out. Kirstie once estimated that she stood about five feet, nine inches tall, which was very tall for a woman. It made her more man sized and taller than some men. This overly tall man had to be a foot taller than her, so maybe six feet, nine inches. He would have to crouch in battle formation. Anyone tall enough to stick out above his fellows that much would become an excellent target for any archers on the opposing side.

Harrold saw her staring and thought to introduce the two men. “Captain Ulf and his skipari, Njal the giant.” Kirstie checked. He might have had some giant blood in him somewhere, she would not know, but she imagined he was just a very tall man. Certainly, he had no troll or ogre in him. Besides, Vortesvin the troll had to be another foot and a half taller than Njal, and with the human-like glamour the elves managed to place around the beast, she knew better what a real giant looked like. As for Captain Ulf, she translated the name in her head to Wolf, and from his looks she imagined he probably was. She turned to Chief Kerga without blinking, like she hardly cared. “What is this all about?”

“The men were hoping you could get in touch with Elgar the Saxon. They are looking at Northumbria, particularly the northern part that remains in Anglo-Saxon hands. They were wondering if Elgar might have or be able to get some inside information about the place, or about the coast.”

Kirstie shook her head like that did not answer her question and Rune spilled the beans, so to speak. “The new Danish king in York wants to reunite the two halves of Northumbria under his crown. He is willing to pay us a considerable sum to raid the coast there to bring out the army in Bamburgh. We just need to scare the villages enough to shake them up. Panic would be better, and we get paid.” Rune opened the small chest on the table. It looked full of silver coins. Kirstie picked one up to examine it.

“Siefried Rex,” she read on the coin.

“Cnut is king now,” Captain Ulf said.

Kirstie dropped the coin and turned on the man. “So, why didn’t King Cnut ask the King in Denmark for help? He could ask the Danish kings in Danelaw for help, especially if his plan to begin with only involves a raid to frighten the people.”

Ulf stared at her. “Why are we talking to this girl?” he asked.

Jarl and Rune jumped, and to his credit Chief Kerga and even Harrold looked ready to defend her presence, but one of the stranger captains began to speak first before Ulf cut him off and Inga spoke into the silence.

“Because even at her young age she has more military experience than you could hope to have if you lived ten lifetimes, and she is friends with the gods.”

Ulf appeared to chew on his tongue for a minute before he confessed. “Because Cnut killed the old man, Siefried and took the crown. He is ambitious, but he does not like leaving an Anglo-Saxon kingdom at his back. Twenty-five years ago, Halfdan Ragnarsson overran the northern kingdom, but he did not finish the job, and he left Lindisfarne relatively untouched, so the anchor of the English remained. Cnut wants to drive the English above the River Tweed and out of the kingdom altogether. Once the northern kingdom is fully Danish and a buffer between him and the wild north, he can take his army and do whatever he wants. The king in Denmark and the kings in the Danelaw have refused to support the usurper, as they think of him.”

“So, he turned to the people of Harald Fairhair, but not to the king. He is looking for the men of Trondelag to do his dirty work and enticing them with silver and gold,” Kirstie concluded. “I assume none of you wants the king informed.”

“This is not the king’s business,” Captain Harrold said.

“A little private enterprise.” Kirstie named it and looked more closely at the map. “You know they will have coastal watchers, and if you are seen at sea they will prepare for your arrival. One or two ships sailing together might be peaceful traders, but six or seven ships seen together will scream raiding party and they will certainly prepare to fight you.”

Medieval 5: K and Y 15 The Norman Hag, part 1 of 3

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Kirstie

Kirstie, Yrsa, and Skarde came to the village center, stopped, and quickly scooted behind the edge of a building. Skarde tried to keep the women behind him which annoyed Yrsa, but Kirstie thought that was cute. Mercenary soldiers escorted Jarl, who had a wound in his shoulder, Leif, and two of the men that went with them to the guild hall. One of those men appeared to be bleeding from his leg, but he kept up well enough.

“We need to find out where they are being taken,” Kirstie whispered. Yrsa and Skarde looked at her like they knew that, and she did not need to state the obvious.

Kirstie thought for a moment while she looked at the vegetable garden behind the house on the square. “Carrots,” she said.

Skarde glanced at the garden. “More than likely,” he said.

“Carrots,” she said, and added, “I need to see you.”

A garden gnome slowly manifested, and he looked and sounded disturbed. “Who? What? How did this happen?”

“I need your help,” Kirstie said, but the gnome was having none of it.

“I don’t do favors for dusty doodles.” He showed his most disturbed face before he caught a glimpse of Yrsa. He whipped off his hat and changed his temperament in a blink. “Greetings skinny princess.” He bowed.

“Princess?” Skarde said and pointed at Yrsa who shrugged before the gnome interrupted.

“I know a princess when I see one, you exceptionally dirty bit of old dust.” the gnome grumped before he smiled for Yrsa. “Did you call for me? Being visible and all, I can’t hardly get my work done.” He spoke to Yrsa like a father to a simple child.

“Lady?” Yrsa turned to Kirstie.

“Carrots,” Kirstie said. “I called you.”

“You?” the gnome’s face slowly changed as he realized who he was talking to. He wrinkled his hat, offered his best bow, and stuttered. “How-ho-how can I help-he-help you?”

Kirstie smiled for the little one. “I need to know where the human prisoners from the ships are being kept. You can go invisible and insubstantial if you like so you stay safe. I don’t want to worry about you.”

The gnome got a big grin thinking that his goddess would worry about him. “But that is easy,” he said. “They got big cages in the town hall. I know, because we have some night spooks living underneath that complain they can’t get any day rest with so many noisy, smelly men over their heads.”

“Town hall?” Kirstie asked and pointed at the building on the other side of the central fountain.

“That’s the place. They got a side door if you want to get in unseen.”

Kirstie patted the gnome on the head. “I’m not sure letting the neighbor’s rabbits out to eat the lady’s vegetable garden is nice, but you know your work and I won’t interfere. Maybe, though, your wife will fix something special tonight for the evening meal.” She blew the gnome a kiss and let him go invisible and insubstantial again.

“That was interesting,” Skarde said.

“The world is full of life,” Kirstie said. “There are little ones everywhere. It gives me a headache to think how many there are. So, Yrsa…”

“This way,” Yrsa smiled and led them back down the street and around the corner toward the town hall side door. She did get out her bow, just in case.

They passed a few people on the way. The town was hardly deserted, but they were ignored so they did not think much about it. When they arrived at that side door, they found Carrots and four other gnomes waiting for them.

“We thought we might help a bit more,” Carrots said.

“I can’t imagine,” Skarde said, looking down on the little crew, the tallest being just shy of three feet tall.

One of the gnomes touched the door, and they heard the locks click open. Two of the gnomes went insubstantial and walked right through the closed door. A moment later, one stuck his head back out through the wall and said all looks safe. It was just the gnome’s head sticking through a solid wall. It felt a bit disconcerting to see.

The other gnome opened the squeaky door a crack, banged once on the hinges, and opened the door wider without the squeak. “Like they won’t hear the bang,” Kirstie whispered her mumble.

Carrots and his two gnomes butted in front, knives drawn, though one knife looked like a trowel. “Shhh!” Carrots insisted. “Quiet,” he said a bit loud. They immediately saw the cages even as they heard some deep growls. “Hund. Placate the dogs.” Carrots said, and Hund with another gnome went to do that very thing. Carrots and his two gnomes, with Yrsa, looked everywhere for a human guard who would not be satisfied as easily as a dog. Skarde and Kirstie had their eyes on the cages. There were four of them, big ones holding about thirty men each, and the men in those cages said nothing, but stared at their unlikely rescuers.

Kirstie called once again to her armor and became clothed in all sorts of weapons. Several men in three cages let out sounds of surprise and astonishment, but Leif whispered. “Kirstie. Over here.”

Kirstie quickly counted thirty men. She figured she lost a quarter of her crew in whatever struggle they had with the locals before they surrendered. Carrots touched the lock and it fell away. She glanced at Jarl, but he just gave her mean looks, so she moved on.

“Get what weapons you can find, or whatever can be used as a weapon. We may have to fight our way out of here.” She looked again at Jarl, but he just returned her growl. She moved on. “Christians?” She asked the next group, and the man nodded. “Where from?”

“Devon, er, Wessex. We brought wool and grain, and ten head of cattle…”

“I am sure,” Kirstie interrupted. “Carrots,” she said, and the gnome removed the lock.

“Danes?” She asked the next group. The man by the gate nodded.

“And anxious to return their kindness.”

Kirstie nodded but ignored the comment. She said, “Pagan, Christian, Pagan, Christian. Sort of like boy, girl, boy, girl. I’m guessing the hag wanted you to talk to each other and make you doubt your faith. It is in the doubt that a hag can slip in with word of a living god, Abraxas.”

“So she said,” the man in the next cage spoke. Kirstie nodded to the man—young man, but she was not finished with the Danes.

“You Danes need to take the left side of the square and the broad road to the docks. Leif.” She raised her voice, though Leif was not far away. “You need to take the right side.” He nodded. Kirstie pointed to the Danish lock, so Carrots unlocked it. “Christians down the middle.”

She got to the last cage and the young man smiled for her. “We are Christians, mostly Anglo-Saxons from Northumbria.” He raised his hand like a child telling the absolute truth.

The older man next to him interrupted the eye lock Kirstie had with the young man. “That is where all this started, as near as we can tell. Northumbria was settled, a good Christian nation. Then the Vikings came, no offence, and everything got confused. Lindisfarne on the holy island got burned to the ground about a hundred years ago. Then, this Abraxas showed up and things got worse. Good neighbors began to fight one another. People you thought were good believers started following Abraxas. They talked about him as the god with us, and said the Christ was a god for people far away. Then, the hags showed up. They were terrible monsters of the worst kind, but they seemed to have sway over the people. Three, like sisters he sent to other shores. One to Scandinavia. One to Saxony. And one to Francia, though I did not expect her to be here in this small, unimportant port. We never should have come here. Are you listening?”

Medieval 5: Elgar 7 Second Chances, part 4 of 4

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Abraxas stood on the shore of Northumbria and watched, briefly. He did not want Flesh Eaters around to mess up whatever plans he had in mind. He reduced the two fighters to dust. He put a hole in the bomber so it crashed into the sea. Finally, he destroyed the shuttle’s engines and it exploded before it hit the water. No doubt Abraxas felt very pleased with himself. Elgar was not happy. He got his friends Osfirth of Devon and Gwyn to take the men home.

“I will no doubt catch up with you before you get there. In fact, this might not take long at all.”

“Where are you going?” Gwyn asked.

“Flesh Eaters?” Osfirth wondered.

“The last of the Flesh Eaters,” Elgar answered. “Get the men home safe and don’t let Athelred or Burgred screw that up too.”

“This was a long way to go for nothing,” Osfirth agreed.

“Not for nothing,” Elgar said. “We got the Danes to leave East Mercia for good.”

“If their word is worth anything,” Gwyn agreed.

Elgar traded places with Danna, the mother goddess of the Celtic gods, but she kept up a glamour of Elgar so Gwyn and Osfirth did not notice. They noticed when she vanished, but Gwyn merely nodded and Osfirth only shrieked a little.

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Danna dropped the glamour and appeared on the shore of Northumbria. She compelled Abraxas to be there. He appeared startled. It was something she knew she could do as long as he remained in her jurisdiction, and presently he could not go anywhere else. He figured it out soon enough before he shrieked a bit more than Osfirth and made sure his feet did not touch any of the water. In Margueritte’s day, Abraxas was banned by various gods from any land where he might have staked a claim. He was supposed to be giving up his bit of flesh and blood and going over to the other side with the rest of the ancient gods. He had been given several chances but had yet to find the courage.

“Amphitrite took the water away from you,” Danna said. “All water, fresh or salt. on this earth. You said at the time you would die. You are made of fire and water, you said, and without the water you would burn up, but I see you are still here.”

“Still stuck on this one rock as the only place that is safe,” he groused. “I have had to survive on beer and wine.”

“No,” Danna answered. “You can drink fruit juice, apple juice, or milk if you would rather.” Abraxas made a face of disgust. “Besides, you can always go to the other rock, Ireland, and complain over there.”

Abraxas shook his head. “That whole island is full of Irish…and your children who should not be there.”

“My disobedient children are not your concern, except to say they are leaving the human race alone and not interfering with history. The day of the gods is over. The new way has come. You will not be permitted to have worshipers or whatever you may be thinking. And creating hags as personal slaves is cruelty to the human race on many levels. Presently, since the water is death to you, there is no point in getting you to clean up your mess.” Danna frowned. He ignored her. “You were told to stay away from the space aliens.” She did not scold him, but she was tempted. She took a breath and called. “Manannan.” She did not compel her children, grandchildren, or whatever, that is, those who called her Mother. But it was polite to come when Mother called.

The sea began to boil. Big breakers crashed against the rocks and the foam splattered everywhere. Abraxas jumped further back, but he was unable to leave the area entirely because Danna compelled him to stay. The British Isles were part of the ancient land where she had the final authority on this earth.

A tall, skinny, slightly green-skinned man covered in seaweed rose out of the water. Anger was etched across his face and he showed death in his eyes but it was all directed toward Abraxas who took another step back.

“Mac Lir, attend,” Danna said. “Our guest has scattered a Flesh Eater shuttle, bomber, and two fighters across the North Sea. No Flesh Eaters are allowed to survive and it all must be cleaned up so no part of it will be found in the future. You know what to do. Take it to Lady Alice on Avalon and place it where she tells you. I am sure Vingevourt, king of the water sprites of the North Sea will help.”

Manannan stopped giving Abraxas the evil eye and turned to Danna. “Why me?” he asked.

“Because as long as you have refused to join your brothers and sisters and go over to the other side, some effort will continue to be required of you from time to time. Gilla de, be a good boy and clean up this mess.”

Manannan nodded his head slightly, said, “Mother,” and vanished. Danna turned to face Abraxas and let out some of the steam that built up inside her.

“You have been given more than enough chances to find the courage to go over to the other side. You have been reduced to these islands. To place your foot anywhere else on this earth will be death to you, and it is your own doing. You have been told repeatedly not to interfere with people or the development of the human race or with the new way. The old way has gone. The day of the god is ended. Get that message. And you have been told over and over to stay away from space aliens or any non-human people. I swear, you are like my little ones. They hear well enough but the minute my back is turned they go right back to what they were doing that got them in trouble.”

Abraxas stared at her like a scolded child, but he said nothing, so she finished her thought.

“Take care, lest you find even these islands taken from you and you have only the Second Heavens to wander filled with regret.” she waved her hand releasing him from the compulsion to attend her and he instantly vanished. Danna shook her head and went to several places in the islands and on the continent to watch and mind her own business. It took a week before Elgar returned to Osfirth, Gwyn, and his men marching across Berkshire, about halfway home.

Medieval 5: Elgar 7 Second Chances, part 3 of 4

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Athelbald died from his mysterious disease in July of 860 and the kingdom passed to his brother Athelberht of Kent. Once the way back to the capital was clear, Judith returned to Winchester, packed her bags, and went home to her father in West Francia. She was not about to be married again to yet another brother. Athelberht, like Athelbald had not married and had no children, so he was eligible to fall into Judith’s web, but Judith was done with that, and done with Wessex. In her mind, the whole kingdom was stupid and stubborn, and she would never be allowed to rule or gather all the power to herself. Even so, despite her bad attitude, she had matured over the years and now felt she could handle her father’s court and look for a more reasonable solution to meeting her desires.

Alfred was thirteen by then, and he corresponded with Elgar. Elgar got him books to read. Athelred was seventeen, so still too young to rule anywhere. The result was Athelberht moved to Winchester but took the throne of Kent with him. He integrated the nine shires for the first time and ruled the whole as the kingdom of Wessex. As it turned out, he had four years to rebuild Winchester and sew the pieces of the kingdom together.

 For Berkshire, he selected a thegan who carried his father’s name, Ethelwulf. The man had Mercian roots, but Berkshire had been under the Mercian thumb for a time so the rest of the king’s men in the shire raised no objections. Besides, since the army of Wessex helped Mercia keep the Welsh in line, Mercia had come to accept Wessex as something of an overlord, so a man of Mercian background seemed no problem.

For Hampshire, Athelberht looked to Osric in Dorset. Osric straddled the fence when Athelbald and his father Athelwulf argued about the Wessex throne, but Athelberht took it as his position. Athelberht refused to take sides. In truth, Osric kept switching sides based on what was most advantageous to him. In any case, Athelberht appointed Osric as ealdorman of Hampshire and let Osric’s son, Osweald take Dorset. Besides, Athelberht’s mother was Osric’s sister, so Athelberht imagined Uncle Osric would do right by him.

Elgar talked to Eanwulf and Bishop Ealhstan of Sherborne and asked them to support, encourage, and teach young Osweald to do a good job in Dorset. Eanwulf did nothing. Ealhstan figured Osweald was like Athelbald, easy to manipulate. Nothing Elgar could do about that. At least Osric did not abandon his son.

Athelberht succeeded in his tasks over the years he ruled. The eastern shires of Kent, Surrey, and Sussex were fully integrated into the larger kingdom of Wessex. Winchester and the whole land of Hampshire were rebuilt and strengthened against the Danes. Everything was settled by 864 when the east coast of Kent became ravaged by the Danes, almost a repeat of what happened fourteen years earlier in 850. Dover, Canterbury, Rochester, and London were raided, and everything east and north of Watling Street fell to Danish hands.  This was a year before the landing in East Anglia by what modern scholars call the Great Heathen Army. Some might suggest the actual invasion of England started in 864.

Two other things of note happened in 864. First, the Flesh Eater fighters and three person bombers strafed the major population centers in Wessex, from Kingston on Thames to Carhampton in Somerset. Some buildings burned, some collapsed, and some people died. It was not devastating, but like warning shots to not resist or fight back without suffering consequences. Second, Athelberht was wounded in one fly-over. He limped for a number of months, well into the new year, before he lost his leg. He seemed to do well enough after that for a one legged man, but six months or so down the road the leg got infected. Gangrene. He died sometime at the end of August, early September of 865, and was buried in Sherborne next to Athelbald. That left twenty-two-year-old Athelred to be king.

By the grace of God, as Elgar’s priest said, the Viking Great Army first turned north in 866 after they got settled and got their bearings. The death of Ragnar Lodbrok being thrown into a snake pit needed to be answered. The Danes devastated Northumbria and installed a puppet king in York. Then they turned on Mercia and ravaged eastern Mercia, wintering in 867-868 in Nottingham. In 869 they returned to conquer East Anglia and killed King Edmund who held the line against them when they first arrived. This left Wessex isolated with only western Mercia free and still in the hands of Athelred’s and Alfred’s sister whose husband, King Burgred of Mercia, still had some say over the land. With all that, the Danes were not ready to try Wessex again until late in 870. Thus far, the Danes had not been successful in Wessex. That gave Athelred time to reach out to his thegans and ealdormen and settle matters in the kingdom while gathering his forces. It also gave Elgar time to act.

When the Flesh Eater fighter ship flew over Watchet, Elgar knew he had to do something. The fighter dive bombed the town several times but did little damage before it moved on down the coast. The fortress, which was Elgar’s home, and the church were untouched. That allowed him the opportunity to speak with the priest again before he acted foolishly. He found things changed a bit.

“I am having a hard time holding on to Mercy and Forgiveness,” the priest admitted. “Two of the church widows were caught in the open and burned. How these creatures can fly and rain fire from the sky is beyond my understanding, but with such great power there is supposed to be great responsibility.”

“People,” Elgar said. “They are not human people like us, but they are people, not creatures. And you make me afraid to act at all.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I am one of those great powers that must act with great responsibility,” Elgar said plainly.

“Yes, I understand that much,” the priest responded. “But you have given these strange people sufficient chances, have you not?” Elgar nodded, so the priest concluded. “In Christ we have forgiveness of sin and the promise of Heaven. He will not hold our actions against us in eternity. But in the here and now, that does not leave us off being responsible for our actions, and often we must suffer the consequences.”

Elgar nodded again. “The law says for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. To put it in Biblical terms, as you sew, so shall you reap.”

“I would think so,” the priest said.

As soon as the Vikings began to land in East Anglia where they cowed King Edmund and gathered horses and equipment for their invasion, Elgar moved. He asked Lady Alice of Avalon to reach out into space. She found three Ape ships in a patrol group not that many light years away. She fed them the coordinates and informed them of the Flesh Eater ship located on the Genesis moon where they did not belong. Those Ape ships started out right away, but it would be well over a year before they arrived.

In place of his brother Eanwulf, who was ill, Elgar went with King Athelred, and twenty-five hundred men of Wessex to help King Burgred of Mercia route the Danish army that wintered in Nottingham. They intended to drive the Danes from Mercia altogether and thus liberate the eastern half of the land. Sadly, Burgred was not a military man and Athelred knew nothing about how to lay a successful siege. The two king together could not force the Danes to budge. It seemed to Elgar that the Danes were laughing at them. Elgar was twice Athelred’s age, but somehow they were back to the days where they did not listen to anything Elgar had to say. Burgred’s wife, Athelswith, Athelred’s older sister painted Elgar as the baby of the family. That is how Burgred saw him, so Athelred agreed with his sister. In the end, King Burgred paid the Dane to leave and stay away. The Danes waited until the weather cleared before they pulled out and headed back to York.

Only one thing of note happened at that time. Ealhstan, Bishop of Sherborne died in a skirmish with the Danes. No one knew how he managed to be in the area when the Danes came out to forage for food. He was generally a person who ran away when the fighting started, but he got himself killed and a man named Heahmund, a bit of a militant bishop, so quite the opposite of the coward took over.

Just as well, Elgar thought. He had his hands full with what was happening in space. The three Ape ships arrived and immediately engaged with the Flesh Eater ship somewhere out toward Mars. The battle was not so swift. The ships maneuvered all over space to get a clean shot on their enemy. Two Ape ships prevented the Flesh Eater ship from escaping into the asteroid belt. one of the Ape ships was destroyed, but the Flesh Eater ship had its screens taken down. It tried to escape, but the third Ape ship caught it and it exploded, spreading dead Flesh Eaters all across that section of space. One Ape ship was gone. One Ape ship was seriously damaged, but the third ship survived well enough to where they could guide their damaged ship to a place where they could repair.

Unfortunately, the Apes did not see the Flesh Eater shuttle head for Earth, escorted by two fighter ships and a three person fighter-bomber. Double unfortunately, someone else did see that shuttle. At first it headed toward the coast of Norway, but at the last minute it skirted across the North Sea like flying under the radar and headed toward the Scottish highlands. The shuttle had all thirteen fertile females and several litters of infants. As promised, once they left earth their fertility was restored, even if they only went as far as the moon.

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MONDAY

The Kairos confronts Abraxas and cleans up the last of the Flesh Eater mess. After that, things with the Danish army begin to heat up. Until then, Happy Reading

 

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