Kirstie
When they arrived in Strindlos, they found a whole crowd of people waiting for them. Chief Kerga was there with a few village elders, mostly men from up in the direction of Varnes. Strindlos had been bleeding people for the new town of Nidaros for some time. Chief Kerga was anxious to show that Strindlos was still a viable place to live and have a family. Trade with Northumberland looked good. Kerga and the elders gathered everything Olaf expected and a little extra to encourage him to come again.
Inga was there, Buttercup on her shoulder. She was happy to see Kirstie, Yrsa, and Soren, and acknowledged Wilam, but there was some question if maybe she was there for Brant. They hugged and held on to each other for a bit.
Hilda was there with Soren’s friend Hodur. The two boys fit right in with each other like Soren had never been away. Erik was missing, as usual, but Thoren was there which prompted a question from Kirstie that Thoren did not mind answering.
“The earl let us go, the ones who refused to act as pirates, who kept the boat while the others attacked Ellingham and Lucker. Of course, we had nowhere to go. I believe the earl considered chopping off all their heads, but in the end, he decided since they had not committed any acts of piracy against him and his islands, he would leave them go, even as you suggested, poorer, but hopefully wiser.
“Where are they now?” Kirstie asked.
“Nidaros,” Thoren said. “Kare and most of his crew have settled there.”
“And are you moving to Nidaros?” Kirstie asked outright.
Thoren looked at Hilda before he shook his head. “Kare and I had a falling out. I won’t be sailing with him anymore. I thought I might stick around here. My mother is not well, you know. That is, if Hilda doesn’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” Hilda said and took Thoren’s arm. Her farm was not very big and not the best land, but she looked determined to make it work. “So, when are you due?” She changed the subject.
“Not for another month, at least,” Kirstie said, and only moaned a little. “Inga,” she called, and Inga separated herself from Brant.
“You look more like a month at most,” Inga said, but she smiled about it.
“I had to eat aboard ship to keep from throwing up,” Kirstie responded.
“Uh-huh,” Inga said in her most skeptical voice.
They all trooped up to Kirstie’s house, slowly to let Kirstie keep up. Alm waited there, with Gustavs, Thomas, and a very nervous Lyall who had been happily cooking and cleaning and keeping the house in order for almost a year. Thomas did his best to calm her nerves, but this would be the first time she met Kirstie, the Lady of the house, and Wilam, her Lord.
When Kirstie arrived, she reached out and carefully hugged Lyall. She said, “Welcome to my home and to the family,” and promptly turned to trudge up to the house, Inga with her. Wilam took a bit more time. He acknowledged Gustavs and Thomas and said how much he appreciated them. He also welcomed Lyall and hoped she would continue to be happy here.
Lyall looked at Thomas and smiled. “I am happy here. Thank you, thank you for buying me. This is the most wonderful place. And Thomas and Gustavs have been so kind to me. And your tenant farmers have been especially nice. I love this place. I finally feel like I have a home.” her face began to distort, and the tears came. “And I was so unhappy. But now I am happy. And it is wonderful.” That was all she could say, and Wilam waved to Thomas and pointed at Lyall. Thomas held the woman.
“Well, welcome,” Wilam said, and he also retreated to the house.
Yasmina
It was not two hours before several things happened, none of which surprised Yasmina. First and most important in Yasmina’s mind was Francesco asked her to marry him, and she said yes. She immediately questioned her choice, thinking things like how she hardly knew the man, and she needed to think, maybe pray about it, and not just let her feelings and desires rule her. She also shrugged. She said yes, so now she had to go through with it. It might not be so bad. It could be good. She looked at Francesco, thought for a second, and decided it could be very good.
Back in the real world, Captain Hazem returned with a hundred men from al-Din’s stables and house. He said more were coming. Al-Din said, “Am I paying all these people?”
“Many are camel drivers for the caravan, and sailors on your ships. You mostly pay the caravan masters and ship captains, and the rest, less. But they mostly bring goods worth more than what you pay, so you make some profit on most of these men.”
Al-Din nodded while al-Rahim set the men to defend the docks, keeping the men of Amalfi and the Vikings in reserve. Captain Frodeson said it was not the way of the Norse to hold back once the fighting started, but al-Rahim came right back at him, Aisha translating. “But for now, you have a viable trading port in Egypt. You don’t want to risk losing that by getting involved in a local trouble unless you have to. If the men of al-Din can hold off whatever palace guards or army Suffar sends, you can pretend you just watched and honestly say you did not get involved.”
“But if they go after our ship, we will defend our ship.”
“Understood.” al-Rahim said as Nasr showed up, the one Yasmina called Sharin’s boyfriend because that was all that was on her mind. He took Yasmina, Aisha, al-Rahim, Ziri, and al-Din to the gate where Harun and al-Asad where waiting. They exchanged several hugs before they all trooped into the garden area. Badroul was waiting for them, and the governor, her father, sat on the bench that Yasmina and Francesco once occupied. He looked impatient.
“Father, just another minute,” Badroul pleaded.
“I have much to do,” the governor said. “Too much to do,” he seemed to be in a daze. “Much to do,” he repeated.
Aisha and Yasmina looked at each other and said the same word. “Enchanted.”
They arrived and Badroul flew into al-Din’s arms. They got lost in each other for a long while. Al-Rahim sent Ziri, Harun, and al-Asad to watch the four corners of the garden, keeping Ziri and himself on the corners facing the palace. Aisha examined the governor and concluded.
“The enchantment is stronger than I can break.”
Yasmina expected as much. She would have to do it, but al-Rahim and the others did not need to know certain things. Long ago, more than four thousand years ago, the ancient Egyptian god Amun and the goddess from the middle east, Ishtar had a son. They named him Amun after his father, and mostly people confused him with his father, but certain people in the know, and the other gods called him Junior, a peculiar twentieth century designation. Thus was the Kairos, always mixing the past and the future, but now the Kairos was Yasmina, and she hated having to ask Junior to intervene.
“I have known you are there my whole life,” Yasmina said to herself. “But my faith is so against graven images and the idolatry of the ancient gods, I never wanted to ask for your help.”
“I understand,” Junior responded in her mind. “But I am not a graven image. I am—you are a living breathing person. What is more, I have no interest in being worshiped, but meanwhile, I can do some things to resolve this problem that you cannot do, particularly with regard to the Jinn, who may have tried to do some good at first. He sent al-Din away rather than simply killing the young man, but now he has reverted to his wicked ways and is abusing the people. The people are all dancing to his tune, wherever his twisted whims lead him. Please, may I?”
Yasmina did not argue.
Storyteller Tales & Thoughts 