Medieval 6: K and Y 9 The Journey Begins, part 2 of 2

October 15, 2024September 28, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

Kirstie leaned over the rail when they went by Stadr in the narrow place. She shouted, “We’re going hag hunting.”

The captain had the decency to yell back, “Lykke til,” which was good luck.

When they reached Solvi at the end of the fjord, Kirstie repeated her performance. The men there just laughed and waved.

After they reached the North Sea, Captain Olaf turned the ship to the southwest and did not start right away for the English shore. Kirstie asked, and Wilam showed her the goods still in the hold. They were neatly divided into three equal parts, and that took them to three stops which turned into four stops on the Norwegian shore.

“We did contact a number of villages along the way to find you, you know,” Wilam explained. “At least three of those expressed interest in possible trade.”

“Good thing Yrsa and I speak Norse like a native, and without Brant’s Danish accent.”

Wilam nodded, but he was not sure if Captain Olaf would let her get near the bargaining.

They stopped at Husastadir just over the border into the province called Raumsdalr. The people there gave them good directions to Trondelag when they were coming two years earlier in search of Strindlos. They seemed nice enough, and they bargained in good faith. Captain Olaf got plenty of the furs and grain he wanted, and the people seemed happy with their ironworks.

“It is a good day when both sides get what they want,” Captain Olaf said. “We may come back here again.”

They made a wide swing out to sea to avoid some place and came back into Borgund, a town on a small island off the coast of Norway in South Moeri. The people there were not so nice. They encouraged Captain Olaf when he passed through, but now they wanted the goods for practically nothing. Kirstie could not help herself. She stepped into the middle of it since the local men came aboard the ship to bargain.

“You should deal more honestly with these men if you ever hope to see them again. You know full well the value of these goods.”

The big man looked at her with all the disdain some men have for any woman who steps into his business. “And you are?”

“Lady Kristina from Strindlos in the Trondelag.”

“The witch from Lindisfarne.” One man tried to whisper.

“You killed Captain Ulf Hakenson?” the big man asked.

Kirstie said simply and calmly, “He was on the wrong side.”

One of the elders stepped in front of the big man. “We might double our offer if you come again. We can use more of the same if you have more. The quality of your goods speak for themselves.”

Captain Olaf took the offer. “For a reasonable payment we can certainly bring more, say, in two years’ time? We already have contracts for next spring and summer unless I can manage a second ship.”

“Two years is better than never,” Brant added.

The elder looked at his people, but no one objected. “We will look for you in two years,” he said and did his best to smile. They, in fact, got one and a half the original offer, not double, but Captain Olaf knew better than to complain. Instead, when they sailed off, he said, “Maybe two years.”

The next stop was in the village of Birdla, another settlement on an island just off the coast in Firdafylki—Firdir province. The people there were nice, but poor. They said the weather had not cooperated in the last year, so their crops were slim. Also, the winter was long, so they were not able to hunt much on the mainland. Captain Olaf felt sorry for them, but Kirstie assured him. “The fish are plentiful, even in the winter. They are hardly starving.” The captain nodded and said they might try again in another year.

The last stop was Dinganes, the village at the entrance to the Sogn fjord. Captain Olaf had hoped they did not have to stop there. When they came there before, they had heard that Sogn was a great fjord that went inland for miles. The people in Nordaland said Strindlos might be located there if it was on a great fjord. They sailed up the fjord a short distance and came to Heyangr where the village elders confiscated a portion of their goods for what they called a safe passage fee, though at the same time they confessed that Strindlos was not anywhere on the fjord. They left there and headed back to sea only to be stopped by the people of Dinganes. Those people were not surprised by the way the elders in Heyangr acted. They did not trade for much or have much to trade with, but they were the first to suggest Trondelag was in North Moeri and surely Strindlos would be there.

It turned out Dinganes had enough to buy the last bit of trade the ship carried, so it worked out. They even said they would be interested in more if they should come their way again. They said what they could not take, the town of Gulaping would certainly take. Gulaping was located just south of Dinganes on the same peninsula. It was where the Althing met.

Captain Olaf nodded, smiled, and waved as they headed back out to sea. Then he asked what an Althing was.

“A gathering of the village chiefs and representatives from the whole province,” Kirstie said. “They gather now and then to settle property disputes, village boundaries, hunting and fishing rights and act as a high court for the province. It is really a better way of settling disputes than yelling and fighting.”

“Peace is better than war,” Yrsa said, and Kirstie lifted up her son so he could wave good-bye.

Yasmina

“Lady,” Aisha got Yasmina’s attention. “Aren’t you afraid if we go back to Alexandria, they will find you? People know you were there before being taken to the Fatimid court. You are familiar with the place. And now that you have escaped from the Fatimids, they might expect you to go there, or Fustat, or Petra where you have been before in case you made plans only did not have time or the opportunity to carry them out.”

Yasmina looked at her companion. “Al-Rahim mentioned the same thing, but he said something about a dog returning to its vomit, for which I thanked him. Lovely picture. But I figure we don’t have any choice. We can’t go west through the heart of Berber and Fatimid territory. To what end? So we end up in the hands of the Caliph of Cordoba? That does not sound like a winning strategy. Then we can’t go south into true Africa. We would no doubt be taken as slaves for one tribe or another. Then, east is Egypt and the Qarmatians that we ran away from in the first place.”

“Yes, but Alexandria?”

“We have contacts there through al-Din. We have access to ships through him. If we can help him settle his affairs positively, we can take a ship into the Mediterranean. Then all the Isma’ili fanatics on both sides, east and west, and whoever else may be seeking us will have no way of knowing where we have gone. Then we can truly have a fresh start.”

Aisha rode in silence for a minute while she considered their position. Finally, she said, “Good luck with that.”

Yasmina nodded. “The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft a-gley.”

Medieval 5: K and Y 14 Side Steps, part 1 of 2

July 2, 2024June 2, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

They sailed passed the Frisian shore without trouble. Leif mentioned that pirates sometimes congregated in the lowlands and the inland waterways. He explained that the inland waters in Frisia were not like the fjords in Norway which were shadowed by great hills and mountains. “These inland waterways are more like flatland swamps in a way. What looks like good land being covered in green grasses and flowers may turn out to be water underneath, and possibly deep water. The pirates know the ways through and around the wetlands so no one can ever catch them.”

“That is twice mention of pirates,” Yrsa said, and Kirstie agreed.

“Third time is the charm. Get your arrows ready.”

“Third time?” Old Man Skarde listened in as usual.

“Just the story of my life,” Kirstie told him. “Don’t worry about it.” She checked her weapons beneath her seat.

Captain Jarl Hagenson gathered everyone’s attention. “Leif has seen a ship in the distance. Our lady Yrsa has confirmed the same with her good eyes. Right now, they appear to be just following us, but Kirstie has suggested they may be waiting for others to join them, and I agree. We are coming to the narrow place between Flanders and Kent. and it is one place pirates like. There is room to maneuver, but not much room to escape. So, keep your eyes open and be ready to row on short command.”

Men felt anxious all morning, but midday passed without incident. It turned roughly two o’clock before the first man shouted, “Ships. There, ahead of us, and they have their oars out. It looks like they were expecting us.”

“The ship behind has lowered their sail. They have their oars out,” Yrsa yelled.

“How can you see that?” Leif asked quietly.

“Wait. To your oars. Wait.” Captain Jarl yelled to the men. They waited, but not very patiently. “I want both ships in front of us moving to push us to the shore of Flanders. I want them committed so it will be hard to back stroke and take time to turn around. Wait. Now!” He shouted. “Oars out. Regular strokes. Not too deep. I don’t want any panic. Hard right. Get that sail down. Regular strokes.”

Old Man Skarde started singing, and the rest of the crew slowly picked it up. The song was an old sailor’s chant such as mothers sing to their babies, but the roots of the song were much older. It kept the rowing rhythm perfectly, and the men smiled at memories of mother and home and relaxed, which relieved their panic and got them synchronized. They flew.

The bottom pirate ship that blocked their straight path struggled to turn around. The top ship that would have pushed them and chased them to the shore tried to reverse stroke so they could back up. They had to come to a complete stop first before they could start moving the wrong way. Longships were able to move in either direction with the oars, but they still had to stop their forward motion to start in reverse.

The ship that followed them did not appear to get any closer, and Leif pointed out, “They will tire, having rowed much further than us to get here.”

The men, some chanting and some singing could be heard by the other ship just fine as Captain Jarl steered the ship just around the backside of the top pirate ship. One man later said he could have spit and hit the deck of the other ship. They were that close. But with their speed, they got past the blockade and out into the open waters of the channel. And they did not stop. The enemy could turn well enough and be after them, and with three ships to their one, woe if they got caught.

Kirstie had a thought and slid up her oar so she would not tangle the others. “Vingevourt,” she called. The sprite jumped up to the railing right away, and another sprite came with him. It seemed like Vingevourt followed them all the way from Strindlos. “Can you stop the other ships from following?” she asked.

Vingevourt shook his little head. “I have no authority in the channel. These waters belong to my cousin here.”

“Svartelbin, it is lovely to meet you. Might you be able to help us out?”

“She has a land elf with her,” Vingevourt interrupted and pointed at Yrsa.

“Hello,” Yrsa said. It was all she could manage through her sweat. She was a light elf and did not have rock hard muscles like a dwarf, but she would do her duty.

“I would be grateful if you could help us out,” Kirstie added.

Svartelbin nodded for Vingevourt as much as for Kirstie. “We can’t stop them, but we can maybe slow them a bit. We can press up against the front end and cling to their oars to make them heavy and tire them.” Svartelbin seemed to have a revelation. “I wish I could do more. I honestly wish it.”

Jarl saw Kirstie stopped rowing and got half-way down the center aisle before he saw and turned around. Leif, who watched whenever the captain moved, asked what was going on. Jarl looked at the man and said, “Just something that will make you shriek.” He went back to join the helmsman at the steering board.

“Oh,” Leif thought about it between strokes. “Oh!” he said, considerably louder.

“How about rocking the boat,” Yrsa managed.

“Yes,” Kirstie grasped the idea. “Can you get your wave makers to come alongside the boats and rock them back and forth to make the men… sick to their stomachs?” She almost said seasick, but the sprites would not understand that and might have been offended at the suggestion.

“Sick to their stomachs?” Svartelbin was not sure.

“You know,” Vingevourt said. “When they eject filth from their mouths and can’t do much more than sit and make whining noises.”

“Dirty my channel? Well, some bottom dwellers find that tasteful. Rock the boat?” Kirstie showed with her hands.

“That and pushing against the front and making their oars heavy should stop them pretty quick, especially if they are afraid that they might tip over.”

“It is really hard to make them tip over.”

“I’m not asking to tip them over, just rock them so they are afraid that they might tip over. Will you do this?”

Svartelbin looked at Vingevourt and Vingevourt spoke. “It will be our pleasure, Lady.” He bowed and Svartelbin also bowed before the two of them popped and splashed back into the sea.

“Good thing,” Old man Skarde said. “My old arms are not up for rowing all day.”

“Me neither,” Yrsa said.

“Yes, but at least your elf arms are not as old as mine.”

“My arms are a hundred and fifty years old, just a smidgen older than my hair.”

Old Man Skarde did not miss a stroke, but said simply, “Learn something new every day.”

When they got well out of range, and for all they knew the pirates gave up the chase, Jarl turned them due south. They followed within sight of the shoreline all the way to Fiscannum.

~~~*~~~

Fiscannum already had three ships in the dock when they arrived. Two were Saxon merchant ships from Wessex, or Cornwall or maybe Brittany anchored off the harbor. They were fat and lazy ships, but they had a hold that could carry a large amount of goods. The third ship was a longship not much different from their own. One crew member identified it as a Danish ship.

Jarl wisely chose to anchor off the port and prepared to send a longboat to see if they might be welcome to trade, and to scope out the area. Kirstie wanted to go in the longboat, but Jarl vetoed that idea. He whispered in her ear. “If the hag is in the dock, I assume you don’t want to give yourself away.”

Kirstie growled at him, but he was right.

It turned out they did not have to go anywhere. The port sent a longboat to talk with them. “Where are you from?” The first question came well before the longboat reached the ship. It was said in the old Norse language so communication would not be a problem.

Jarl answered. “We are merchants from Strindlos in the Trondelag and wonder if this is a place where we may engage in honest trade.”

“That depends. What have you brought to trade?”

“Furs, fine hides, and grain,” Jarl answered. “I heard the north shore is full of too much fighting and too little farming.”

The speaker in the longboat paused to turn his head to one of the passengers before he shouted again to the ship. “Where is Trondelag?”

“Northern Norway. Cold country.”

“The land of Harald Finehair?”

“Fairhair,” Leif shouted back.

“He may be blonde, but from what I hear he is losing his hair.” The speaker smiled at the thought, but only for a second. “I see you have a full crew. You can’t have much grain and furs.”

“There are pirates,” Jarl answered in all honesty. “We were chased through the narrow place that comes into the channel and would not have escaped without a full crew.”

The man paused to listen to his passenger again. “Do you have anything else worth trading?”

Jarl paused this time and appeared to look around at the crew. He actually looked at Kirstie. She nodded and said, “Amber,” pinching her fingers to say a small amount.

“Yes,” Jarl shouted as the longboat stopped moving closer. “We have a jug of fine honey and beeswax from the cold north. We have some ivory. And we have a small bit of amber to trade, but we would expect to get a good return, especially on the amber which is very hard to come by.”

The speaker in the boat had to get his instructions before he shouted. “The harbor master says you may anchor opposite the Danish ship. He will send men aboard to inventory your goods, and after you are approved, you may visit the guild hall to bargain.” The longboat turned and headed back to shore.

Jarl figured he had a couple of minutes. He talked to Leif, Kirstie, and the leaders of the crew. “Bring the amber over here.” he said and bent down to the deck beside the steering oar. He pulled up a plank over the pole that connected to the bottom of the steering board. The hole had been expanded there, either by wear and tear, weathering, or on purpose. He slipped almost half of the amber in the hole. Before he replaced the plank, Kirstie took two fine pieces and handed them to Old Man Skarde to hide in his tunic.

“They will expect us to try and hide some. This way they can find some.”

Jarl nodded and grabbed a piece of ivory. He put it in the hole, really a dent made for the anchor. That hole was also bigger than it needed to be. “Get the men to the oars. Up the anchor. Let’s fit it on top.” They did. The anchor did not fit perfectly but it got covered and looked acceptable and wet. The men rowed and the steersman put the ship alongside the dock.

Medieval 5: K and Y 9 Hiccups, part 1 of 3

June 3, 2024April 9, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

After Bremerhaven, the crew treated Kirstie like one of their own. On the way to the Weser, they were not sure how to treat her, and by extension, Yrsa. These women felt like intruders on their male bonding. They were not treated badly, knowing what Kirstie had done at the king’s house, but they did not treat her well, except the three young men who wanted to get to know Yrsa better. Kirstie was fourteen and still skinny. Yrsa looked eighteen and beautiful. Fortunately, for Kirstie, Yrsa was not interested in any of the men. That was a complication Kirstie did not need, and to that end, she only had to threaten one of the young men once.

On the way back down the Weser, Kirstie told some jokes she gathered from Giovanni, a life she had not even lived yet. They were jokes Giovanni taught Leonora, the harlequin in his circus. A couple of them were bawdy enough to embarrass Yrsa, but the men liked them.

Captain Stenson and Frode spent the day they took to sail back down the river counting all the silver they got in Bremerhaven. The guild masters had to get together and pool their money. With the fairy Aldean on Frode’s shoulder, the guilds did not have enough for all the amber, but they got a fair share of it along with all the ivory, honey and wax, furs, and leather. Only the grain remained unsold, and a bit of the amber.

At the mouth of the river, they found the same fishing boats turned out to block their way. Kirstie felt miffed at first before she thought to say, “I wonder what he wants.” Yrsa and Kirstie dressed in their dresses and waited for the longboat to be lowered. This time, there appeared to be a delegation on the shore, complete with some tents and real looking soldiers. Captain Stenson steered the longboat directly there.

When they landed, Kirstie got out of the boat and shouted, “Where’s Waldo?” She confessed to Yrsa, “I always wanted to say that, but Genevieve did it first.” Yrsa frowned, not exactly knowing what Kirstie was talking about. Kirstie just figured out that Sir Waldo showed the piece of amber to someone who knew its actually worth, and he could not let them go without seeing if they had any more.

One man on the shore looked better dressed than the soldiers around him. He stepped forward and talked to Captain Stenson and Frode by introducing himself. “I am Count Duko come from the king’s court in Utrecht. It has come to my attention that you have obtained some amber. I would like you to consider a trade if such may be arranged.” He looked back at his soldiers as if to suggest they better agree to give up the amber, one way or another, or he might just take it.

Captain Stenson put on his shrewd face, which was not very shrewd. “We only have a little left, but I think something may be arranged. Where is Sir Waldo? He seemed a reasonable fellow.”

The count shook his head. “This is the king’s business.”

Kirstie heard from Mariwood and the local elf king that they were present and available if they should be needed. Despite the implied threat of the count, she hoped they would not be needed.

“I am sure something equitable can be arranged,” Captain Stenson said.

Frode interrupted this time. “How fortunate. Since the Lady Kristina may represent the King of Norway in certain matters, having come home from the king’s house not that long ago. It is fortunate to be able to speak with a representative of the King of Frisia. Perhaps you two can share notes on the disposition of various kings.” Frode wrapped up the lies in his friendliest smile, and Yrsa, being an elf, translated the lies with a perfectly serious and unflinching face.

Kirstie played along with a kind smile and a slight curtsey, which she imagined she did a bit better than the last time. “Harald Fairhair, my king of a thousand ships and ten thousand men at arms sends greetings to the King of Frisia in the hopes that we may establish an equitable relationship for mutual benefit.”

Count Duko hesitated. He had not expected this, but he did not hesitate for long. “But your king is far away and not able to know what transpires on a foreign shore. Yours is a trade mission, not a diplomatic one.”

“A simple ruse to see if our two peoples may share in fair economic benefit for both of our peoples. Who, but the king would have access to such precious commodities as amber and ivory? Alas, we only have a small bit of amber to test the waters, so to speak, but we might be willing to fairly trade it for some of the things we need. We have resources to make us rich, but we lack some of the common commodities that make life better.”

“This is nonsense,” Count Duko decided.

“I perceive that you have no light saber,” Kirstie whispered as a handful of men rode up to the shore and dismounted right away to march to the meeting. Kirstie scooted past Count Duko, Yrsa following, and Kirstie hugged the big man. “Sir Waldo. I found you. I was beginning to be afraid you would leave me in the hands of the wretched Count Duko.” She let go and took Sir Waldo’s arm, and he patted her hand like a doting grandfather.

“Waldo. The king will have the amber these people carry, and it is none of your business,” Count Duko spoke sternly.

“This is my business,” Sir Waldo shot right back. “This is my land by the king’s decree. I am here to defend the sea and the river delta against all who would disrupt the peace. You have no right to come to my land and interfere with legitimate merchants and trading ships that I have allowed to proceed.”

The count steamed, but before he could erupt, Kirstie spoke.

“We would be glad to trade what little amber we have left if Sir Waldo is able to procure from his people the things we seek. Then I imagine Sir Waldo might sell the amber to the king to recoup his expenses and maybe a bit extra for his trouble, and it would still be far below what the amber may be worth in some markets. I am sure the lords of Lotharingie, Austrasie, Alemagne, and Burgogne would pay handsomely for the rare jewels since they have no access to northern ports to buy it directly. What say you, Sir Waldo.”

Count Duko looked at the man. Indeed, everyone looked at the man who appeared to be thinking. “What is it you seek?” Eyes turned to Kirstie who felt glad Count Duko did not outright object like a man who maybe wanted the amber for practically nothing.

Kirstie pointed to her people. “Captain Stenson, a fine captain, and his number one Frode are shepherds back home. Their families are well known for the fine wool they produce. We had some carded wool from the captain and his skipari among the furs and leather we brought, but that went to the people of Bremerhaven.” She pointed out to the ship. “As you can see, we have plenty of lumber to build fine sea faring ships. And you see the crew? They can fight like berserkers when they must, but do not be fooled by their appearance. The secret of the Norsemen is they are mostly just farmers and fishermen as well. What we would like is some quality plows and farm implements, some good quality tools, and the like such as farmers and fishermen need and use. That should not be a problem for you, though we would like to get a fair number of things for the amber we have left. We may bargain some, but we wish to make a fair deal so we may come again knowing we have an honest trading partner. I cannot say how much more amber we may be able to bring on a future visit, but you never know.”

Kirstie took a breath and looked at Count Duko. Clearly, he had not considered the idea that this might be more than a one-time event. If Waldo could get the amber for the price of some farm implements, and if he could buy it all at a modest price and sell it at a high price as the girl suggested, he could become rich, legitimately, and not have to kill anyone to do it.

Sir Waldo smiled as he thought about it. He said a couple of good plows and tools would not be a problem. Captain Stenson and Frode also smiled. It was what they mostly wanted, and it would save them the silver it would cost in the Danish or Norwegian trading centers to purchase the same things.

“I am sure something equitable can be arranged,” Captain Stenson repeated himself.

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

April 22, 2024April 6, 2024M G Kizzia Leave a comment

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.

Avalon 9.8 The Wild West, part 6 of 6

July 19, 2023June 18, 2023M G Kizzia Leave a comment

That night, the travelers, Marshal Casidy, and his magnificent seven all camped around a bonfire in an open field. Marshal Casidy spoke. “So, the Kiowa left two days ago, which is why there is room right now in the field. The steamboat came this afternoon, and we got your tickets. By the way, here is a bit of funding for the trip south. I’ll be staying here for at least a week so you should have no trouble reaching the next time gate. Sign here.”

“What am I signing?” Lincoln asked.

“Wells Fargo account. No reason we can’t get fifty years of interest.” Marshal Casidy paused before he suggested, “Alice says she thinks she knows where you are going. Maybe California.”

“Maybe?” Lincoln said and signed before he took the coins and put them in his bag that could make the time jumps without immediately rotting. “Thanks. Our larder was wearing a bit thin.”

“No telling where we will end up,” Tony said. “But gold and silver hold their value pretty well. The face on the coin does not seem to matter so much.”

“So,” Marshal Casidy turned to Sukki. “Have you at least settled things about where you will go in the future.

“Yes,” Lockhart said.

“Yes,” Katie said and held out one hand. She scooted over a bit and Sukki grinned and got up to sit between the two.

“Sekhmet and Artie used to sit just like this,” she said with a happy grin.

“It is a relief,” Elder Stow said. “Knowing that she will be well cared for.”

“Elder Stow,” Captain Barnes spoke up. “I understand the time travel, though I would love to see how this time gate business works.”

“Not me,” Mini said.

“Make her shriek,” Gordon said, and Sergeant Reynolds chuckled.

Captain Barnes went on. “I also understand why these men in black were chosen to make the trip. I get the two marines to provide protection and such along the way. And Sukki. I understand they found you in the deep past.” Sukki nodded and nibbled on her buffalo steak. “And Nanette and Tony fell into the past from 1905, just thirty-five years in the future.”

“More like forty-nine years by the time we get there,” Tony said, and Captain Barnes nodded to say he understood.

“But Elder Stow. Where did you come from and how is it that you have these incredible things like your weapon, your screen device, and your scanner. I imagine you have more incredible things we have not yet seen. Do all people in the future have such things?”

Everyone looked at Elder Stow, and the travelers were going to leave it entirely up to him what he revealed. He hardly hesitated. “I am one of those Gott-Druk with super advanced technology you have heard about, though the things I carry around are mere toys such as a ship’s officer might carry.”

“You look human,” Commander Roker, the Ahluzarian said, and Captain Barnes nodded like he was about to say that.

Elder Stow removed his glamour and appeared as the full-blooded Neanderthal that he was. Then he said, “I am human. It is one of the main things I learned on this journey. I am not Homo Sapiens. I am Homo Neanderthalensis. We are both humans, and as much as it sounds terrible, personally, we even share some DNA. I came to this world to remove the Homo Sapiens so my people could reclaim their homeland. I had a terribly ingrained prejudice against all Homo Sapiens. But I have learned that in every way that matters, we are not different. And I have learned that my Gott-Druk home is a good place that we have made excellent. And I have learned that this world now belongs to the Homo Sapiens, and that is how it should be. We have done much in our journey to remove things that do not belong here and keep history on track, and that has been important work. And I have learned that there is a time and place for everything under Heaven.” Elder Stow put his glamour back on.

“Good thing,” Doc said. “I know some medical school people back east that would love to cut you open to see how you work.”

“They might find that hard to do,” Decker said, and Nanette smiled and took his arm.

Silence followed until Marshal Casidy clapped his hands. “Now for the good news. The Storyteller has returned home.”

The travelers got excited except for Lincoln who said, “Figures. We are only two steps from home now. Big help.” He tried to keep his sarcasm to a minimum.

Marshal Casidy waved his hands for quiet. “The Storyteller has gone back to his life with no memory of his adventures—he has some memory problems. The golem that was filling in and doing a mediocre-poor job of it has returned to Avalon.”

“What’s the bad news,” Lincoln asked.

Marshal Casidy frowned. “The bad news is while putting the pieces back together there were some time displacements. No, don’t ask me what a time displacement is. I just made up the term, but basically since things got off kilter when he vanished, there was some time leakage when he returned. Things, basically future things, kind of slipped back a bit. Alice will straighten it out, eventually, but you might encounter something unexpected when you visit Doctor Mishka.”

“What? You can’t just zap us home now?” Lockhart asked.

“Don’t dare,” Marshal Casidy said. “Not until the time displacements are corrected. Sorry.”

“So, tomorrow we take the steamboat downriver for two hundred and some miles to the next time gate,” Katie summarized.

Lockhart nodded, but added, “And then without horses we have to find Doctor Mishka on foot.”

“Yes, sorry. But there should be trains, and maybe even cars and busses, depending on when and where you arrive.” Marshal Casidy tried to smile an encouraging smile. “I’m sorry, but the horses belong here, and we have given you all the coin money we have and all that we got from the horse trader after we bought your tickets for the steamboat.”

“That’s okay,” Lincoln said, surprising all the travelers. “I would hate to come all this way and skip Doctor Mishka. She might never forgive me.”

People agreed and wandered off to bed.

###

In the morning, the travelers waved good-bye. People, including Colonel Decker, changed their fairy weave to regular civilian clothes. Katie admitted she made a couple of less petticoats than recommended and thickened her dress against the cold instead.

It got cold on the river. Having a cabin did not help much, but at least the river remained relatively free of ice and snow. Having a cabin near the boiler stacks helped a bit more, but most of the heat from the boilers got vented through the salon that the travelers rightly called the saloon. Most of the cabin passengers spent most of their time eating and drinking in the salon and trying to keep warm.

On the second day, one of the passengers came racing into the salon yelling about something strange in the sky. A few of the passengers bundled up to go see. Katie, Lockhart, and Elder Stow also went to take a look. The passengers suggested a strange cloud formation, and one said a balloon of some kind.

“A weather balloon,” Lockhart said and chuckled. They watched it move back and forth like it got suddenly lost and tried to get its bearings.

Clearly, it was a ship of some kind, and Elder Stow said as much when he admitted, “I have never seen the like.” He got out his scanner, but before he could get a good reading, the ship vanished into thin air. Somehow, the travelers imagined it did not just turn invisible.

“Time displacement,” Katie named it, and they went back inside where it was warm.

It took three days, with a couple of stops, to reach Omaha, and those who got off on the Nebraska side headed for the train. The transcontinental railroad went from there all the way to San Francisco. Crossing the Rockies in winter was not a good idea, but most were not going that far, and the few hoped to reach California before the January snows filled the passes. Some crossed the river to Council Bluffs Iowa looking for the train to Chicago and back east. Some stayed on board the ship to continue south. The steamship would eventually land in Saint Louis.

The weather had warmed as they traveled south, so it was not so bad when they cinched up their backpacks and headed out of town. No one asked them where they were going, so it was a pleasant walk until the end. They found the time gate in a barn owned by a Mister E. B. Johnson. The man seemed kind enough, but his wife was greedy. They had three mostly grown sons who all came to the front porch to see the strangers. The travelers stopped outside the house and asked if they could spend the night in the barn. The sun started to set. Katie tried to be friendly and asked where the couple came from.

“Norway,” the man said. “I came all the way here and built my farm with my own two hands.” I am Erik Johnson, my wife is Britta, and my sons are Dag, Anders, and Bjorn is our youngest.” He looked at the sky as his wife spoke.

“You can stay in the barn out of the wind and snow or rain, whatever we get, but you will have to pay for the night.”

“Where are you headed?” the man asked, to keep things friendly.

“The year twenty-fifteen,” Lockhart said with a straight face.

“Nineteen-fourteen,” Decker said. He took Nanette’s hand and patted Tony on the shoulder. Lockhart, Katie, Lincoln, and Sukki looked at the man. They wondered where Decker and Nanette would end up. Apparently, they had settled the matter.

Elder Stow spoke more plainly. “We don’t know what year it will be when we arrive. We are time travelers.”

The wife opened her eyes wide and spoke to her husband in Norwegian not imagining the travelers would understand. “These people are crazy. I don’t want crazy people around my farm.”

Katie interrupted perfectly in the same language. “Time travel is not as crazy as you think. We visited Norway once back in the days of the Vikings. They were a rough and greedy people, but they were kind to us.”

Lincoln stepped forward. “Here is eight dollars. It is not exactly hotel accommodations, but that is a dollar for each of us and should be more than enough for a night in a barn. We will be gone in the morning before you know it.”

Bjorn, fourteen or fifteen years old, shouted, “Cool!” or the 1875 version of the word. “You have many guns. Did you fight any red Indians? I sometimes dream a whole tribe of Indians comes charging out of the woods there.”

No one answered when they heard shouting in the nearby woods. Men in very odd-looking uniforms came tumbling out of the woods like they were indeed charging the enemy. The uniforms looked splotched in red and gray, an odd sort of camouflage, and the helmets had shaded visors down the front, like astronaut helmets, so faces could not be seen. The travelers drew their guns. Sukki raised her hands and Nanette raised her wand, but the men stopped suddenly and looked around like they were just as surprised at the change of location as the others were surprised at their sudden appearance. As fast as they arrived, the soldiers faded and vanished, and Elder Stow thought a word was advisable.

“Be careful what you wish for young man,” he said, and the travelers hurried to the barn, while the man, his wife and three sons went into the house to lock themselves in. The family got scared, and the husband thought he might tell the travelers to find shelter elsewhere, but the wife was not about to refund the eight dollars.

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

MONDAY

Welcome to Hollywood in the 30s and to polio. The travelers have to cross half the continent to get there. Fortunately, they can take the train. Until then, Happy Reading

Avalon 8.6 Standing Still, part 1 of 6

June 20, 2022May 14, 2022M G Kizzia Leave a comment

After 883 A.D. Norway

Kairos 104: Kirstie, Shield Maiden

Recording …

The time gate sat just off the shore beyond Bristol. Lincoln complained. “If Elgar stayed in Winchester, the time gate might have been in the swamps of Somerset, or maybe in Devon, but on land.

“It might not be so bad.” Sukki stayed positive as she and Boston got ready to test the gate.

“Yeah,” Boston agreed. “Kirstie is a Viking. She might be sailing across the Atlantic. Too bad we had to kill so many of the local Vikings.”

“Boston,” Sukki objected. She did not need the reminder. She did some of the killing and found it a traumatic experience.

“Sorry,” Boston said. “Sorry.”

“Just see where the water gate leads and come right back,” Kate told them. “No playing around.”

“I understand,” Sukki said, and Boston nodded while she walked her horse out to where the water came up to her horse’s withers. Her saddle got soaked, and the water felt cold on her legs, but Boston had the fairy weave she wore as thick and waterproof as she could make it.

They came out in a bay—a skinny bay surrounded by high mountains and cliffs, near a dock where people worked. A Viking longboat sat alongside the dock, and the men and women who worked on the boat took a minute to notice. The water was calm, but deep, so the horses had to swim, and it felt very cold, almost ice cold.

One man shouted as Boston, Sukki, and their horses struggled to swim to shore. Another man shouted. A woman said something and pointed. Several men raced down the shore from the dock to indicate where the horses might find some footing. Several people ran into the village.

Boston had to turn her heading. Sukki already had Cocoa moving in that direction. They quickly reached a spot where the shivering horses could climb out of the water, even as men came up with blankets. The men went straight to the horses, to rub them down and warm them. The few women covered Boston and Sukki in blankets and told them to walk it off.

“Keep walking until your legs don’t feel like they are about to fall off,” one woman said., but it was not so bad. The fairy weave naturally pulled the wet and cold from their legs and expelled it. Fairy weave was a marvel.

“We have to fetch the others,” Boston told the woman beside her.

“More?” the woman asked, not really questioning the idea that there were more. She looked at the old man who came over to question the strange women but seemed get some sort of message. He backed off and gathered a half-dozen more men to stand on the shore and wait for the others. Boston ignored that whole exchange, having the others on her mind.

“Sukki, are you ready to fly?” Boston asked and Sukki nodded. Besides the fairy weave, Doris, the sea goddess, one of the goddesses who changed Sukki from a Gott-Druk—a neanderthal—to homo sapiens, gifted Sukki with pressurized skin where the cold water did not affect her nearly as much as a normal human. She could also hold her breath much longer than anyone else and go into the deepest parts of the ocean without being crushed. She could also fly, but that was thanks to one of the other goddesses.

“I hope we won’t be long,” Sukki said and lifted into the air while the men and women on the shore gawked and some shouted. She went to where the time gate still stood activated and flew closer to the sea than necessary, but just to make sure she got through.

“Inga.” The woman who stood beside Boston introduced herself.

“Boston.” Boston reciprocated, and sat on the shore staring at the time gate

“Kirstie is not here,” Inga said, flatly, and sat down beside Boston.

“I know,” Boston responded. She looked at the woman and had to ask. “Why did you think to mention her/”

“Two reasons. First, you appeared out of nowhere and plopped into the fjord. Only Kirstie would know someone who can appear out of nowhere. Besides, your friend can fly. Second, I feel there is something different about you. I have been to Avalon, you know.”

Boston understood. She could not deny herself. “I’m an elf,” she admitted, and Inga merely nodded that she understood. “My friends are all human, mostly. Elder Stow is an ancient one. Sukki used to be an ancient one, but she got turned into a human several hundred years ago by a handful of goddesses. They made her human but got a little carried away. They gifted her with all kinds of abilities, like the ability to fly.”

“I see,” Inga said. “But you said hundreds of years ago? Where are you from?”

“The future,” Boston said. “I probably shouldn’t talk about it.”

Inga looked confused, so Boston explained a little more. “We started on Avalon eleven or twelve hundred years in the future. We traveled into the past through a thing called the Heart of Time.”

Inga’s eyes got big. “I saw the great crystal. Kirstie said it remembered all of the past, but I did not know it had such magic.”

Boston shook her head. “Not magic. Like magic, but I think it is more a natural device, in a way. Certain crystals have the capacity for massive memory storage…” Boston stopped. “Sorry. I’m an electrical engineer. You don’t need the specifications, which you probably would not understand anyway. Besides, as an elf, my inclination is to say, yes, it is deep and mysterious magic, and make a spooky face, and grin.” Boston grinned.

Inga laughed. “I believe I understand just fine.”

“Oh,” Boston pointed. Elder Stow and Sukki came through the time gate. They appeared to be carrying the wagon, but Boston knew they were merely directing it to the shore. Elder Stow had it floating along above the water, lifted by a half-dozen discs tuned to his flotation device.

Elder Stow collected the discs and flew back through the time gate before he could be introduced. Sukki simply said, “Be right back,” and she followed Elder Stow through the air and vanished over the water. Inga watched. She squinted but could not say how the magic was done, or perhaps more accurately, where the people went. Boston took a second to look at the five men and two women who stood on the shore. They seemed to be patiently waiting for something. She wondered if maybe they were some sort of elder council. The rest of the crowd stood a few feet behind the council.

“Kirstie is on her way back to the village,” Inga said. “I expect her in a week or two.”

“That should be interesting,” Boston said. “Maybe we can stay here for a week or two and wait for her. That would beat having to chase her all over the roads. You do have roads?”

Inga said they did. “But they are not especially good for a big wagon like yours. Our road is mostly the sea.”

“So, would you mind if we stay here for a while?” Boston asked.

“That depends on how much you eat,” Inga smiled. She did not have the lips for a good elf grin.

“Like an elf,” Boston answered with a straight face before the two laughed softly.

“There is one thing,” Inga said, and lowered her voice in a way that got all of Boston’s attention. “There have been three unexpected deaths this season. All three were found in the wilderness, outside the village itself, where no one else was around. We found the bones, twice. The third time, men rushed into the woods on the hill and must have scared away whatever it was. We found Earika, a young wife and mother. She had not been eaten like the others, but all of the blood had been drained from her body.”