Vikings

Medieval 6: K and Y 5 Divorce, part 1 of 2

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Wilam and Kirstie spent as much time together as they could over the week his ship was in port. Sadly, it did not amount to much time. Fortunately, it was enough time for Kirstie to know she would say yes when he asked again. She realized how important it was that she decided to divorce Kare first, back when she never expected to see Wilam again.

Wilam left all too soon, but he promised to be back in a year. They had a contract with the village. Kirstie swore the divorce would be settled by the time he returned, but then Kare did not come back to Strindlos for almost the entire year. She heard he returned to Nidaros after a roughly five months of good weather. He stayed there a couple of months, sailed off again for another couple of months before the winter came full on. He landed again in Nidaros and returned to Strindlos only in the early spring. He saw the grain and wool as well as the furs and hides she collected and tanned for trade. He also found the two ivory walrus tusks the dwarfs brought her in early March, around Soren’s fourth birthday.

“They rut in February and the old ones die off then, sometimes,” Booturn said.

Kirstie asked if she could keep Birdie and Missus Kettle for another year. He said, “By all means,” but she could tell he was beginning to miss her. She vowed she would find a cook she could hire, which is how she preferred to think of it, and another woman she might get to do the wool, linen, and the general sewing and constant mending and washing needed around the place.

“Too bad Mother Freyja is not around these days,” she told Yrsa one afternoon when they walked home from visiting Kirstie’s properties. When Yrsa asked why, she said, “Because she could find just the right two women for Thomas and Gustavs, and I would not have to worry about them so much.”

“They seem content,” Yrsa said.

Kirstie agreed. They had no complaints. But content and happy were two different things. “I guess now I have to depend on the Lord to direct my steps,” she said, but did not explain what she meant.

When they got home, Kirstie found Kare rummaging around in the barn and drooling over the ivory, which he found, picked up, and covered with a blanket so no one would know. He started toward the barn door and got caught with the goods. He had to quickly toss them aside.

“Get out,” Kirstie yelled first thing before she even realized he was stealing her stuff.

“What?” He played stupid.

“You no longer have any business being here. I’m divorcing you.”

“What?” He got suddenly serious. “You can’t do that. You are my wife.”

“I can do that, and I am doing that.” She let out some steam. “Get out and don’t come back.”

He got triggered. Kirstie saw the red boil over in Kare’s eyes. He had to have heard about her decision to divorce him and maybe he thought he could talk her out of it, but she knew how to push his buttons. He clearly wanted to hit her but paused when he heard a voice behind him.

“You heard her,” Thomas and Gustavs both stood there, and Thomas had a hoe while Gustavs carried the pitchfork.

“You heard her,” Yrsa mirrored the words and appeared beside Kirstie, her knife in her hand. Booturn also stepped up, and he held an axe as big as himself.

“Get out,” Kirstie yelled again.

“I would do as the lady says,” Booturn spoke calmly.

“Okay. All right. I’m going,” Kare backed down, but he kicked the ivory tusks and slammed the barn door as he left.

Kirstie fought back the angry tears. “He came back to steal my stuff,” she concluded.

“You need to get to Inga, Mother Vrya, and Chief Kerga first thing in the morning,” Yrsa said, showing a remarkable bit of sense. Kirstie nodded and went into the house. When Inga came with Soren, she told Inga what she was going to do.

“I’ll be ready,” Inga said, and Kirstie thanked her. She fed Soren and put him to bed. She crawled into her own bed alone until Soren toddled in and got up in the bed beside his mother. Then Kirstie slept.

When the morning came, when the sun just touched the horizon, Yrsa came to take Soren’s hand. They followed Kirstie who went straight to the Witcher Women. Despite the early hour, Mother Vrya was ready and waiting, and Inga stood with her. They got to the big house in time to see Chief Kerga go in ahead of them.

Chief Kerga had to send two men to fetch Kare. Kare was preparing his ship for departure, and he refused to come on his own, by request, or by an order from the chief, so he had to be brought in. Jarl and Harrold were there to witness along with Mother Vrya and several of the village elders. It did not take long for Kirstie to explain. Kare was unfaithful, a drunk and a thief besides. Yrsa was a witness to his thieving. He tried to walk off with her ivory.

“The word of a woman supporting a woman,” Kare said. “That hardly counts as proof.”

“Thomas and Gustavs were both witnesses, too,” she said.

“The word of thralls? What did you promise them to lie for you?”

“There are other witnesses, but I hesitate to call them. Anyway, it does not matter. You were caught stealing before.”

“What? You have no proof of that.”

“But we do,” Jarl interrupted. He called two men to testify. They were once part of Kare’s crew, but Jarl enticed them to sail on his ship, and they did not take much enticement.

“Yes,” they said. “We were with him last year when he tried to take the grain and wool from the barn. He said it was his to take. We did not know.”

“But it was not his to take,” Kirstie said. “Besides, he sold my thralls, my property without permission. He owes me thirty pieces of silver. Better yet, he should be forced to go and get my thralls back at whatever cost. Besides that, he hit me once, and more important, he hit my son. You all saw the black eye. I know, some men beat their wives and children. Some men take from the family and from their wives and get away with that. Some men even have lovers on the side. But all these added together say I cannot trust him. The marriage is dead and should be ended. Besides that, he never paid the bride price, and for that the marriage should be counted as if it never happened. I would rather have poor Soren be a bastard son than continue in this farce.”

Kare choked on the words “bride price.” He tried to think of some defense, but he had nothing. The beating, the mistress or two, even taking the wife’s property without permission might not of themselves be grounds enough for a divorce; but he forgot all about the bride price. It was too late. He could never pay enough. She would not accept it, and without paying the bride price, they were not really married. He finally said, “But you are the one I was always going to marry. You are my wife.” His anger flared, but he got cut off by Harrold’s words.

“Not anymore.” He looked up, not at Kirstie, but at the ceiling, and said, “Divorce.”

Jarl said “Divorce.”

Mother Vrya and Chief Kerga said, “Divorce,” and the rest of the men said it, though some of them whispered it.

Kare roared. “I’ll be back soon enough, and then we will settle this.” He stomped out of the building.

“It’s already settled.” Kirstie shot after him with her anger. She raced to the door. “I won’t be here when you get back.”

“You had better be.” Kare shouted. “Or I will find out who he is and kill him.”

“No.” Kirstie shook her determined head, her light blond hair going every which way. “It is over between us.”

“You are my wife.” He roared once more.

“Forced.” She growled. “But no more.”

Kare rushed back and his hand came up to slap her face, but Kirstie stood her ground ready to fight him off. “You know what will happen if you ever strike me.” She said in a low, hard voice. She would kill him, and he knew it. He thought better about the slap. With a growl of his own, Kare spun around, raced to his ship and they cast off. As the oars came out and the ship began to pull out into the fjord, Kirstie sat down, right on the dock, and cried. All those years of pent-up frustration, disappointment, and feelings of hopelessness came out all at once.

Medieval 6: K and Y 4 Happy Soon, part 3 of 3

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Kirstie

“It is well known that a woman warrior, a shield maiden stood alone on the field beneath Lindisfarne Abbey. She alone faced four hundred Norsemen and asked them, no, demanded that they not do any evil on that holy ground. Some say it was arrogance. Some call it hubris. But the Holy Church has determined that the angels of the Lord came around her to protect and strengthen her arm for the trial. Indeed, she fought the devil on that field and prevailed, and the Northmen, being men of honor, accepted the outcome and withdrew from that place, thus sparing the abbey and the holy island.”

“That was not exactly how it went,” Harrold mumbled.

“Near enough,” Rune whispered.

“Lindisfarne is ruined these hundred years. They have no gold, no silver, no jewels of any kind. Only a few ragged monks remain to keep the fire burning. But it does remain a symbol of peace and salvation for all the people, and this the church knows well. Therefore, they established a small purse and went to King Eadwulf II to find the woman and reward her with all of their thanks. The king was so moved by the courage of the woman who faced certain death, he doubled the purse, and we were contracted to find her and bring her the sign of our gratitude.”

“And Fairhair?” Jarl asked. “You said the king’s business.”

“Hush,” Harrold said. He liked a good story.

“Quiet,” Chief Kerga added.

“That first year we sailed to Kaupang, the chief trading town of the Norse, the king’s town. Harald Fairhair took half of our goods without compensation, and we dared not complain. Somehow, he heard about the attack on Lindisfarne and became enraged. He asked who did something so stupid without his permission. He was told Ulf Hakenson from Steinker, but Ulf got killed before there was a battle, so the others withdrew. That calmed the king a little. “That is one bad situation I don’t want to get involved in,” he said. “Let the Saxons and Danes kill each other off. I have plenty of Geats and Danes by the shipload right here to deal with.” We got out of there and said nothing about Trondelag or Strindlos. So, if the king comes here looking for the men involved in the raid on Northumbria, he won’t hear about it from us.”

“Why would you care what happens to us?” Harrold asked. It was an honest question and got an honest answer from Wilam.

“Because we want a good trading partner, and it would not start things well by pointing a finger at you. Right now, we are the only ship from Northumbria who is brave enough to dare the waters of the Norse. Others will follow soon enough, but we would like to be established and on good terms before that happens.”

“Story,” Chief Kerga said as if the interruption was rude. Brant picked up where he left off.

“In the second year, we sailed to Agden, not wanting to get tangled in Vestfold again and not wanting to give up half our cargo for nothing. We sailed the shore all spring and summer. Rogaland, Hordaland, Sogn and the great fjord there. We had to give some of our goods again for nothing, but we also made some trades, so it was not a total loss. However, we did not find Trondelag. We found many fjords, but the best information we could get about Trondelag was further north, further north. By the time we got to South Moeri and we found out Trondelag and the fjord we were looking for was in North Moeri, the weather began to turn. We headed home with little to show for two years of trade, but now we at least knew where we were headed.”

“In the third year, the king got word that Aethelwold, the son of Siefried died under strange circumstances, and Cnut of York invested his sons, Halfdan, Eowils, and young Ingwaer to follow after him. King Eadwulf kept his ships close to home that year. We did not go out. Then, this year, we came straight to this place, but we were stopped at the entrance to the fjord. We told them we were on the king’s business and looking for the village of Strindlos. They were good enough to give us directions and let us go. We got stopped a second time in the narrow place by Stadr.”

“We are on the king’s business,” we said.

“And what business is that?” the captain asked.

“It is the king’s business,” I told him. “Should I turn around and go back and tell the king one man would not let us proceed?”

“We are headed to Strindlos with word of another hag,” Wilam interrupted. “Should we tell the hag that Stadr seems a very tasty village.”

“That won’t be necessary. You may proceed.” Several of the men that sat listening laughed, nervously.

“We almost got stopped a third time, but we told Captain Jarl that we were on the king’s business. We did not, however, say which king. The box.” The two men guarding the chest set it on the table in front of Captain Olaf. “Kirstie,” Brant said. “Please accept this reward and the thanks of both the church and the king, that is, King Eadwulf II.” he opened the box and the men saw it was full of silver and some gold coins.”

Kirstie did not blink. “Please bring the box over here,” she said, and walked to the table they used when a ship returned and had to divide up their take fairly under the watchful eye of the chief and the elders. They brought her the chest and she dumped it on the table. It did not have as much in it as it appeared. The chest had thick sides. It took her a few minutes under everyone’s watchful eye to divide the contents into eight equal piles. She had two pieces of silver left over and she handed them to Mother Vrya for the Witcher Women.

“Why eight piles?” Jarl asked. “One per ship?”

Kirstie shook her head. “Njal’s ship, Odger’s ship, and the other captain I can’t remember deserve nothing. They only left when they were outnumbered. One pile is for Chief Kerga and the village of Strindlos. One is for me, captain of this ship. It is the ship’s portion. A second is my personal cut, me and Yrsa. She pushed the two piles back into the chest and closed the chest. For these last five, I need two leather pouches if there are any.” She got offered three pouches. One was clearly too small, but the other two would do well enough. “These five piles are for the ships that came to their senses and to my side of the field. You deserve a fair share of the thanks.” Kirstie filled the two pouches with a portion each and that left three portions on the table, one for Rune, one for Jarl, and one for Harrold. Each portion had a gold piece, but Kirstie picked up the gold piece off Harrold’s pile and spoke to him.

“But you already received your gold piece.”

He did not argue. Instead, he reached for the inner pocket of his tunic and pulled out the little golden Cross Father McAndrews gave her. She was surprised he still had it and had not melted it down. “I have heard the story,” he said. “I think I will keep this if I may.”

“You may,” she said, and handed him the gold piece as well.

When all was done, she said, “These two bags are for Captain Erikson and Captain, the other one.”

“Roarson,” Rune said.

Kirstie nodded, picked up the chest and the two bags and juggled her way back to her seat where she tried to hide her face behind her hair.

After that, it got trade boring. Kirstie put her grain and carded wool into the pot of Strindlos trade goods, but then she and Inga snuck out. The men would have to work out the rest of it, and she felt glad to see Wilam right in there bargaining with the best of them.

Medieval 6: K and Y 4 Happy Soon, part 2 of 3

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Wilam and Kirstie let go and looked a bit embarrassed at having behaved as they did, even if most of the crowd just smiled at them. Alm had his arm around Yrsa, and she had her arm around Soren. Inga and Brant looked around and saw the captains Olaf and Jarl headed for the village. Kirstie saw Rune and Harrold head there as well. Mother Vrya and her cane limped beside Chief Kerga, who limped some himself after all those years.

Kirstie quickly distracted herself by reaching for Soren. She knelt down to her son and saw the welt around his eye, and it made her more determined than ever to tell Kare to leave and never come back. She picked him up and set him on her hip before she turned. “Soren,” she said. “This is Wilam.” Soren looked before he turned his shy head into his mother’s shoulder.

“Come on,” Brant said.

“A good son,” Wilam said and brushed the boy’s hair from his face. “Let me see that eye.” Soren would not look up to show the man. “That looks like a real black eye. It must have hurt.”

“Start walking,” Inga said, and the couple began to shuffle slowly in the direction of the village.

“A shock, I think,” Kirstie answered. “And one of many reasons why I am getting a divorce as soon as possible.”

“I had my share of spankings when I was growing up,” Wilam admitted.

“More than his share,” Brant said, with a knowing smile for Inga, who returned the smile.

Wilam continued as if not interrupted. “But my father never hit me. I knew when I did wrong and deserved a whipping, but my father never hit me.”

“Soren did nothing wrong. His father was angry, and he lashed out. He knew if he hit me, I would kill him, so he took his anger out on the child. I have no use for a man who hits people when he does not get his way. I especially want nothing to do with a man who hits children.”

Wilam raised a hand like he was taking an oath, and he said, “I promise to always respect you and the children for as long as I may live, so help me God.”

Kirstie looked down to watch her feet. She said nothing until they reached the door to the big house. Then she said the word that stood out in her mind. “Children?”

Wilam apologized. “I’m sorry. You are all I have thought of for three years. I feel as if we are already married. I’m sorry.”

Kirstie stopped. She set Soren down and let Yrsa take his hand again. She looked again in Wilam’s eyes and hardly knew what to say. She surprised herself as much as Wilam when she finally answered him. “A little girl would be nice.”

“Inside,” Inga said, and took Kirstie by the hand.

“Wilam,” Brant spoke in a tone of voice that got Wilam’s full attention. He motioned toward the doorway, and Wilam nodded and followed him in.

The first order of business was to open a keg of the local brew and get some food cooking almost as an afterthought. Kirstie once wondered why men had to get drunk before discussing business. It seemed an odd ritual, but it was the way it was done.

Yrsa and Buttercup kept Soren outside and occupied. They would eventually take him to Hilda’s where he could play with his friend Hodur. The other three women, Mother Vrya, Inga, and Kirstie sat off to the side in a special area where women were allowed. The women were not supposed to speak unless given permission, though they did not always play by that rule. Certainly, no one stopped Mother Vrya from speaking when she had something to say.

Once the atmosphere was subdued, Chief Kerga began with the introductions.

The strangers were seated where they faced the chief, sort of in the center of the room. There were five of them, Captain Olaf, Wilam, Brant Svenson, and two men who carried a small chest between them. They looked like rough men who kept their eyes on the chest, and that made people curious.

The three ship captains sat up front by the chief. They were all on a slightly raised platform that allowed them to see the whole hall. A dozen elders, mostly men with big, productive farms sat around the strangers, and some other men sat behind them.

“Captain Olaf Sturgeson, mostly Danish from the town of Lucker in Northumbria, English land. My Skipper is Brant Svenson, a fine Norwegian lad through his father Sven. My navigator is young Wilam Halfdanson, the last son of Halfdan Ragnarsson before he sailed off to Ireland to be killed in battle.”

Olaf had to stop as the talk went around the room. Everyone knew about Halfdan Ragnarsson, son of Ragnar Lodbrok, who with his brothers, Bjorn Ironside, Ivar the Boneless, and Sigurd Snake-in-the-eye, raised a great army and invaded England. Only the West Saxons stopped them from conquering the whole island. When the room settled down, Olaf got ready to speak again, but Wilam stood, and the room quieted. He spoke to Kirstie.

“My mother became pregnant days before my father sailed off to try and retake Dublin. By the time I was born, he had already failed and died in battle. So, you see, I never knew my father, and though I carry his blood in my veins, I do not make it a big thing.” He sat.

Olaf added, “Most of the crew call him Wilam, but some, sometimes call him Halfdan out of deference to his father.”

“Thank you,” Kerga said, with an extra-long look at Wilam and a long glance at Kirstie. “Do we have any who will vouch for the captain?”

“I will,” Jarl stood. He told the story of sailing to Normandy and being captured by the hag. Everyone there remembered how frightening the hag of the Vanlil had been, so they did not doubt the horror of the experience. He told about being caged beside the men from Northumbria while he left Old Man Skarde with Kirstie and her maid on the ship. He told how angry he had been at first, not that the three left the ship, but that once again Kirstie would get credit for saving the day. Then he exaggerated the confrontation with the hag beyond belief, but he ended with saying Captain Olaf and his crew stood beside them ready to fight as friends.

“When I found them off the coast of Nidaros, I hailed them, and they said they were on the king’s business. Brant spoke for his crew and said they were looking for Strindlos. I thought it was my duty to escort them here and see what king’s business they had in this place.”

Captain Olaf stood. “Our business is two-fold. First and most important, we are merchants in search of honest trading partners. I was told the people of Trondelag have need of quality crafted ironworks, plows as well as swords. We also have cows in the hold if you have the desire for such. We will take grain, but we would prefer furs such as are scarce in the English countryside and hides that may be worked into many made items.” He stopped speaking because the men began to shake their heads and make noises about not understanding the man. Brant stood, because his Norse was not tainted by such a heavy Danish accent.

“Our business is two-fold.” He took it from the top. “We are first of all merchants in search of fair and honest trading partners. You have the hides and furs that are hard to come by in our home. We have some finely crafted ironworks that you will find interesting and useful. But we can discuss trade a bit later. First, we have a duty to the king. Let me tell you the story.” He glanced at Kirstie and looked at Inga, who smiled for him, and it made him smile.

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

MONDAY

Kirstie is rewarded for her work in Northumbria and then needs to figure out how to get a divorce from Kare the Jerk. Until Monday, Happy Reading

*

Medieval 6: K and Y 4 Happy Soon, part 1 of 3

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Kirstie

Once on the dock, they got joined by the elders, including Svend the blacksmith who was not quite ready to move to Nidaros, and they were backed up by all the families waiting to welcome home Jarl’s crew from their long voyage.

The new ship looked like a real transport, like from the Danelaw, or maybe eastern, Swedish lands. It had a hold and stood taller in the water that Jarl’s longship, but it looked slimmer than the typical belly-boat such as merchants sailed in the waters of Northern Europe. It looked like the kind of ship that might stop at the towns at the entrance to the fjord, or sail to the king’s house, back before the king’s house burned, or maybe sail all the way up to Maerin or Steinker. It did not look like a ship that would bother with a small and getting smaller village like Strindlos.

The ship bumped gently against the dockside, as Jarl brought his longship to the other side. Kirstie did not wonder for long who the ship might belong to. She saw old Captain Olaf lean over from the rail. “May we come ashore?” he shouted in as near to the old Norse tongue as he could manage.

No one could answer because Kirstie took a step forward and shouted, “Wilam.”

“Kirstie,” they heard the return shout, and the young man leapt to the dock without waiting for permission. Kirstie ran to him, and he met her halfway. They wrapped each other up in their arms and Kirstie began to cry softly on Wilam’s shoulder. He whispered in her ear. “I spent the last four years looking for you.”

“I spent the last four years dreaming about you. I’m sorry,” she said, and could not say any more through her tears.

Inga came up alongside Kirstie and a man came up beside Wilam. They looked at the couple before they looked at each other, and Inga spoke first. “Inga,” she gave her name.

“Brant Svenson,” he said, and smiled. “I take it you are Kirstie’ friend.” His old Norse was much better than Captain Olaf’s, though he spoke with a touch of a Danish accent.

“More like her watcher, ever since she was a wild child.”

Brant nodded. “Same for Wilam. He did not calm down until he started to study the stars and learn about navigating the seas. Now that he has found his heart’s desire, I hope he may finally become a man.”

Inga nodded and pushed her hair back a bit. Buttercup was whispering that this man seemed very nice, but Inga could tell that for herself. Buttercup did not get exposed, but the fairy quieted. “So, you know. Kirstie is twenty. I am eight years her senior and I am studying the ancient wisdom of the Volva. But even at a young age, Kirstie knew more about all things than myself and my teacher combined. She is special beyond words and in ways I cannot explain, but you must see for yourself.”

Brant nodded that he understood something. “And I am thirty to Wilam’s twenty-five, and I saw the goddess in Normandy,” he said, but did not explain as he turned his head when Wilam spoke.

“So, will you marry me?”

Kirstie finished crying and pulled back to look into Wilam’s face. She studied his eyes. She pulled from the embrace but held on to his hands. She did not think for very long. “I want to, but I can’t right now. After Lindisfarne, I was forced to marry someone else. I tried to make it work. I have a three-year-old son. But I just went to the elders to insist on a divorce. I never thought I would see you again. You may want to change your mind, but even if you do, I will be getting a divorce.” She waited, near tears again, but he did not think for very long either. He just had to piece those sentences together.

“So, we have to wait until the divorce is final, that’s all.”

Kirstie cried, but they were happy tears. She hugged him tight once again, and this time she did not want to let go.

“That was quick,” Inga said.

“Not hardly,” Brant said. “She was all he could talk about since he turned twenty-one. Sometimes, I feared he might explode for wanting her.”

“Is that how you feel about your wife?”

“Not married,” he said, and Inga felt something inside. Maybe she felt happy.

“So, the goddess?”

“Gnomes, too, though I never heard that name before. At least gnomes are what she called them.” Brant smiled and did not mind sharing his thoughts with Inga. “My neighbors back home would call them brownies. I suppose in Frankish, old Germanic lands they might be called kobold. Here, they might be called dwarfs or maybe elves of some sort. “

Inga pushed her hair back again to get Buttercup quiet. “My source says they are whatever Kirstie called them. It is part of what I was talking about when I said Kirstie was special beyond words. Apparently, she is the expert and decider of such things.”

“Your source being the fairy on your shoulder?” Brant asked, and Inga looked temporarily shocked. “I can explain. After Kirstie warned us and we evacuated the village, Wilam said he wanted to go back and look for her, but he did not know where to start. We went with the men of Bamburgh to search the coast for signs of the longships. Some men went south. We went north to Ross, and eventually all the way to Lindisfarne and back to Ross but saw no sign of any ships. When the men believed the longships eluded us and we were ready to give up, Wilam and I got a visit from the strangest crew we ever encountered. There were fairies, dwarfs, elves, brownies, gnomes of all shapes and sizes. They talked to Wilam like he was their friend and begged him to hurry to Lindisfarne. They said Kirstie was standing alone, with only her elf maid to support her, and she would surely die at the hands of the Vikings who planned to despoil the island.”

“What did you do?” Buttercup spoke right up suddenly ignoring the fact that she was supposed to be hiding in Inga’s hair.

Inga looked to the side and repeated the question in a calmer voice. “What did you do?”

“We hurried. We got all the ships we could find and all the men we could gather. Many raced up the coast but had to wait for the tide to go out before they could cross to the island. Many went with us aboard the ships. We landed at the docks and climbed the hill in time to see the last of the longships parked on the rocky shore. Wilam said he saw Kirstie, but she was too far away to call. She went with the ship, and he lost her, but he knew she was alive, and the Vikings left the island alone. Later, we heard the story from Father McAndrews about the bravery of the lone girl and how she fought the leader of the Vikings and turned them all away.”

Inga and Brant looked to the side and saw Wilam and Kirstie clinging to each other, staring at them, listening to the story with otherwise the same empty looks on their faces. Inga and Brant shared a smile and Mother Vrya arrived and totally interrupted everyone.

“Love later,” she said. “First we have business at the big house.”

Medieval 6: K and Y 3 Helpful Decisions, part 2 of 2

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Yasmina

“It has been three years and the mothers are beginning to ask serious questions,” Yasmina admitted. She whispered to Aisha because they were approaching the area where the women went to watch what was happening in the court. Yasmina knew al-Hakim’s mother and grandmother would be there and hear everything.

“They know al-Hakim has no interest in girls. Maybe they will blame him.”

Yasmina shook her head. “If I don’t get pregnant soon, I will be out, and they will find al-Hakim a new wife.”

“I will think on it,” Aisha said, and then quieted as they came to the lattice wall and offered a bow to the Mahdi’s wife and al-Qa’im’s wife. The delegation from Alexandria was expected. Yasmina wondered if there might be fireworks, though gunpowder had not yet been invented.

Yasmina watched the men troop in. She did not look closely. Her eyes were focused instead on the old man’s face. She saw the frown form there and knew he would not be inclined to be gracious to his guests.

Aisha nudged her and pointed to the delegation from Alexandria. Yasmina caught sight of the leader of the delegation as the man bowed and made a nice little speech. He was the chief rival of Suffar, the governor of Alexandria’s evil Vizir. She guessed Suffar found a way to make the man leave town, maybe permanently. A delegation from Alexandria to the Fatimids had to be dangerous. No telling how the Isma’ili fanatics might treat those they consider heretics to the true faith. She imagined they might be kinder to Christians and Jews as complete outsiders to the faith.

Yasmina thought of the governor’s daughter, Badroul, that Suffar wanted to marry his son. She had to be seventeen by then, or near enough. Old enough to marry, but when Badroul was fourteen, she was madly in love with Ala al-Din, or as she called him, Aladdin, the guy with the lamp and the genie. She was just wondering if the girl was holding out against Suffar’s son when she caught sight of al-Din himself, shuffling at the back of the crowd.

“Apparently being a rich young man is not enough to keep you out of trouble when the governor gets an idea in his head,” Aisha whispered, directing her voice to Yasmina’s ears alone. Unfortunately, Yasmina did not have that same talent, so she had to swallow her response, or when Suffar puts the idea into the governor’s head.

“Child,” the Mahdi’s wife got her attention and was never kind to her. “Do you recognize any of these Alexandrians?”

Yasmina nodded. “Yes Grandmother. The speaker is one of the governor’s chief advisors. It must be a serious proposition they have in mind.”

“Yasmina,” al-Hakim’s mother was always nice. “You should not worry about such things at your age. You should be thinking of having a family.”

Yasmina lowered her head and played her part well. “Yes Mother. I think of it all the time, but al-Hakim is not very cooperative. It must be me.” She sighed to add just the right touch, hopefully without overdoing it.

Al-Qa’im’s wife gently stroked the back of Yasmina’s hair and cooed. Al-Mahdi’s wife clicked her tongue in disgust and said, “No, child. It isn’t you.”

When the delegation from Alexandria left the room, Yasmina and Aisha excused themselves and left. Yasmina spoke when they were alone again. “We have to find out what al-Hakim is doing and soon.”

“What are you thinking?” Aisha asked.

“I’m thinking I need to leave this place if I want to live. Kirstie has a three-year-old, but I will never have a baby with al-Hakim, and time is running out.”

“I spoke with your loyal retainer al-Rahim just yesterday. He got himself assigned to the stables with just that in mind.”

“Good,” Yasmina said, before she added. “I would like to have a son.”

“But first you need a husband,” Aisha countered.

“I don’t know. Kirstie has managed pretty well, though technically I suppose Kare counts.” She shook her head and changed her mind. “She needs to divorce him,” she said, without explaining.

Kirstie

Soren turned three in 903 when Kirstie finally admitted there was nothing she could do. Kare was determined have his cake and eat it too, which was a terrible cliché, but to the point. He expected her to be the good and submissive wife who let him dally in any direction he wanted. But that was not Kirstie, and he knew it. Things came to a head when she caught him trying to take some of her grain and carded wool. She had set it aside to go to market, and he, with three of his crew got caught with their hands full. He swore he needed it for his trading expedition, and he would bring her the proceeds. She said he already owed her thirty pieces of silver, so she did not trust him. He hit Soren. She prepared herself to kill him right then and there, but he and his crew members ran off while she made sure Soren was all right.

Kirstie cried for most of the rest of the day. Inga and Buttercup came in the afternoon and Inga was willing to wait until Kirstie got ready to talk about it, but Buttercup did not have the patience. She pressed the issue.

“I tried,” Kirstie said. “I really tried, but Kare is just impossible.” Kirstie felt like a failure, and though she knew that was not true she still felt that way. Some consolation was Yasmina urging her to divorce the jerk.

“You make me all weepy,” Buttercup said. “You need to be happy, soon. I think you will have happy soon.” Buttercup said through her own tears. Inga and Kirstie looked at each other like they had no idea what Buttercup might be talking about, but both knew not to question too closely the little prophetic-type utterances the little ones sometimes said. Often, they stretched the limits of what could be called coincidence. In this case, though, Kirstie and Inga understood there was no point in questioning Buttercup about what she meant because the fairy would have simply said, “I have no idea. I don’t know why I said that.” Assuming she even remembered saying that.

“I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthing babies.” Kirstie mumbled to herself. “We need to go,” she said and picked up her three-year-old, heavy as he was, and put him in her backpack. She had her adrenalin pumping when she started toward town. She called to Yrsa and Alm, and they caught up. She stopped briefly at the place of the Witcher Women. She found Mother Vrya waiting for her. When they all got to town, they found Captain Rune and Captain Harrold in the big house discussing the situation concerning Nidaros, where Strindlos seemed to be bleeding people. Rune was saying he and his crew would probably move there soon enough. Harrold said he would stay with Kerga because some of his men lived up by the Varnes River and saw no need to move from their good land.

“I want a divorce,” Kirstie said, without any preliminaries, interrupting everyone.

Mother Vrya nodded. Kerga and Harrold did not look surprised. Rune asked what happened.

It took about ten minutes to explain about catching Kare and his crew members trying to steal her goods for market. Kirstie yelled that her farm and the properties she bought and the produce from all of it was hers, not her husband’s, and he had no claim on her possessions. And besides that, he owed her thirty pieces of silver for selling her thralls without her permission.

“He hit me once, and he will never do that again. If he does, I will kill him. Only fair to let you know in advance. But now, he hit my son. I tried my best to be a good wife to him, but he is unfaithful, a thief, and a greedy useless excuse for a human being. God willing, he will sail off and never come back.”

“He has done the sailing off part,” Harrold said and showed a small smile. Harrold was responsible for the marriage. He clearly wanted to get even for her defense of Lindisfarne and seemed happy she suffered so much because of it.

Kirstie took a breath and apologized for interrupting their meeting. She repeated herself in a calmer voice. “I want a divorce.”

“No problem,” Chief Kerga responded to her apology. “We were not speaking of important things. We were just waiting.”

 “There is a new sail on the horizon,” Rune said. “And Jarl appears to be escorting the ship.”

“We must go see,” Mother Vrya said.

Medieval 6: K and Y 3 Helpful Decisions, part 1 of 2

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Inga, and the disguised elf Lonn led the group of thralls and possible tenant farmers. “I acted as the go-between, if you don’t mind,” Inga said, as she came to stand on one side of Kirstie. Yrsa and Alm stood on her other side. Lonn started with the introductions.

The first couple, an older couple had a sixteen-year-old boy who did not appear to be the shiniest apple in the bin. “They are from Sula, an inland village that was attacked by the Jamts in that year. They have not had good fortune in that place and thought the new village on the Nid River might give them a fresh start. My thinking was they would do well on the far property next to the long field. The woman can keep the garden, the men can plant the small fields on that property, and the boy can keep the sheep where most of that land is better suited to pasturage.”

The second couple was a young couple with a two-year-old baby girl. “They are from Lundar on the Gaul River, again an inland village where the men feel no need to go to sea or go to war. Their story is simpler. They are the younger ones in big families. There is only so much arable land in that place, and though the dowry is small, they hoped to find a place of their own in the new town. I believe they will do well here on the near property where the land is better for crops. They might keep a few cows for the milk if they choose to have a big family of their own.”

The young mother stepped up. “Oh, Lady. I have seen the home. It is like a dream come true.”

Kirstie looked serious and spoke without any sense of jesting. “My husband is captain of a longship and a hard man given to talk down on those he considers beneath him. As long as you don’t rile him, you should be fine.” she let that thought sit for a minute in case one or both couples decided to back out. Lord Amber took the silence to step in.

“I have drawn up contracts. Since you own the properties, not your husband, the tenants will be responsible to you alone. The agreement explains how after so many years of good service the land can become their property. Meanwhile, they have full use of the land and house as long as they remain tenants in good standing. Trust me.” He said that last to Kirstie since he knew she had not read the agreements. She signed everything. When the couples made their mark, because they were unable to read or write, Kirstie, much to her surprise, received five silver pieces from each, and they smiled about it.

“Oh Lady. I just know working for you will be wonderful. You need not worry. We will work hard and do a good job. You’ll see.”

“Your name?” Kirstie asked because the introductions went by too fast.

“Tove,” the girl said.

“Tove,” Kirstie said the name. “And Helga.” She pointed to the older woman in the first couple, who nodded. “It is my intention to stay home for many years to come, but you should know, I am a shield maiden and a navigator. The time may come when I may have to go to sea maybe for months, or even a year or longer. In that case, Inga, our Volva will watch over the properties, and Yrsa here will run the farm and the properties. Or if Yrsa chooses to sail with me, Alm will be your boss. Under no circumstances will you work for my husband.”

“And your children?” Tove asked.

“I have only a son, but if it is children, they will stay with my friend Hilda while I am away.”

“Oh,” Tove looked disappointed and her husband, which Kirstie thought was Sven, spoke on her behalf.

“My wife loves children. She wants to have another right away.”

Kirstie, having just survived childbirth, thought presently that one was enough. “And these last two?” Kirstie said to change the subject.

“Gustavs and Thomas,” Lonn said. “Gustavs is the elder. He is from Latvia in the east. Thomas’ heritage is from Strathclyde in the west, but he has been a thrall since birth. Gustavs worked a farm in the north where the old owner died, and the son got killed in the attack on Howick. The old woman could not afford to keep him. Thomas was second generation in service to a family that fell afoul to the king. They had to sell some thralls to meet the king’s demands. I will also say, the woman of the house was sorry to see Thomas go. He was a good and faithful worker.

“I will do a good job for you,” Thomas said.

Kirstie acknowledged his pledge but turned to Gustavs. “I was there. I told Ulf and Odger to leave Howick alone, but they were stubborn.”

Gustavs nodded, having already heard that she was a shield maiden, before his eyes got suddenly big. “You were the woman who stood alone and faced down eight ships of men before the abbey of Lindisfarne. I heard the story.”

“And you disapprove?”

“The opposite. I am third generation Christian.”

Kirstie pulled out her little wooden cross and turned back to Lord Amber. He answered her before she could ask the question. “I took a small portion of your money from the hollow of the tree. I knew it was your desire to run the farm yourself and not depend on your friends, so I had people look for suitable help as they looked for suitable tenants.”

“Thank you,” she said, and pointed to Fiona’s house. “You may wish to fix it up a bit and rearrange things a bit, but that will be your quarters.”

“Just so you know,” Lord Amber continued. “These men are yours and work for you. They are like this farm, your property. Your husband has no claim on them, and he should not have been allowed to sell Fiona and the boys. They were not his to sell without your permission. You see, he waited until you were ready to go into labor to make the sale and took all the money to pay for his ship. You could force a claim on his ship if you have a mind to do so.”

Kirstie would have to think about that. “For now, let us begin on a good note. Welcome to all of you. May your days here be filled with joy and happiness. Now, I am tired, and my son needs to nurse.” She stood and went into the house hoping that everything would work out well.

~~~*~~~

By the time Kare came back from his maiden voyage, all three properties were being well run and productive. Kare began to count up what he could gather for trade goods, but Kirstie shot down that idea first thing. “These are not your properties. These are not your tenants and not your thralls. And you owe me thirty pieces of silver for Fiona and the boys.”

“I didn’t get that much,” Kare protested.

“You owe me thirty pieces of silver,” Kirstie repeated.

Kare looked at his son but did not touch him. He looked at Kirstie and she saw the look in his eyes. He wanted to hit her, but he thought better of it. He bellowed, “You are my wife.”

“I am not your thrall.”

Kare thundered and threw a chair across the room, breaking one leg against the wall, and he stomped out and stayed away for a week.

When he came home, Kirstie softened a little and honestly still tried to make it work, but it did not take much to set him off. Over the next three years, Kare stayed home about a third of the time. A third of the time he spent sailing off to who knew where. Roughly a third of the time he spent at Nidaros.

Kirstie heard that Kare bought a home in Nidaros and moved his girlfriend Randi into the place. She also heard he started hanging out with another girl named Thurid. Kirstie never threw their names in Kare’s face, though she was tempted often enough. Kirstie tried to make it work, but honestly, it got to where it did not take much to set her off either.

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MONDAY

Yasmina has some thoughts about marriage and children, and Kirstie wants a divorce. Until then, Happy Reading

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Medieval 6: K and Y 1 Married Life, part 2 of 3

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Kirstie considered wearing her armor during the ceremony as a sign of protest, but in the end, she dressed in her blue dress. She kept telling herself that it was up to her to try and make it work. She cried a lot, and Yrsa cried with her, and she understood. Making her marry Kare was Harrold’s way of getting revenge.

In the end, Kirstie stood quietly and said nothing. When they got sprinkled with the blood of the goat sacrifice, they went off to a tent that had been set up some distance from the camp. The men would drink all the mead while the couple consummated their marriage.

“You know, this is not Frigg’s day,” Kirstie said to the priest. “You are asking for trouble.” Weddings were always conducted on Friday or Frigg’s day. Frigg was the goddess of marriage and the family. To marry on any day other than hers was an insult to the goddess.

“I know,” Toke said, and he said it in a tone of voice that suggested for the only time in Kirstie’s hearing that he was not happy with Captain Harrold’s decision, and with the whole thing. He was just following orders.

Kirstie considered running away, but she had nowhere to go.

She considered the hags of Abraxas. At least she should not have to go running off to some foreign port to kill any more of them.

Abraxas was a would-be god, son of the Greco-Roman god Janus and the Irish Celtic, Asgardian rooted goddess Morrigu. Abraxas was a god of fire and water and claimed to be a god of good and evil, but nobody ever saw the good in him. The problem was Abraxas was born roughly a hundred years before the dissolution of the gods, so he was barely counted as an adult before the gods went away—and he was supposed to go with them over to the other side but he refused to go.

When Kirstie’s Nameless god banished him from the lands of Asgard, he had a second chance. When the other godly lives Kirstie lived, Amphitrite the queen of the seas and the Greco-Roman world, Junior Amun of Egypt, North Africa, and the Middle East, and Danna, the mother goddess of the Celtic gods confined him to the British Isles, he had a third chance. He still refused to go over to the other side and created hags out of women to enforce his will. He wanted to father a new pantheon of gods. Danna had to throw him off the planet altogether.

Now that Abraxas was banished from the earth and confined to the second heavens, the Abraxas hag problem was settled as far as Kirstie was concerned. She decided it might be nice to stay home. She did her best, and in the morning, she felt that Kare was satisfied despite the impossible expectations he may have built up in his mind over the years.

Kirstie dressed in her armor and thought of it as protection from many things. She made Kare dress, and they went to Harrold.

“We need to leave this island before we are discovered,” Kirstie said. “Now that I am married, if you have anything more to say to me you have to speak to my husband.” It was her way of saying she was not planning on speaking to him ever again.

Harrold said nothing to her. He merely nodded and got the men, some of whom were still drunk, to pack everything for the voyage home. The voyage took almost two weeks due to bad winds. Kirstie looked at Toke more than once, but all he said was, “I know.” Fortunately, they did not run into any sort of storm.

Kare, who sat behind her, spent those two weeks constantly touching her back, hair, arms, and wherever he could reach. He got really annoying, and Kirstie swallowed her words many times. They hit the Norwegian coast a bit to the south and sailed up to the Trondelag. When they got back to Strindlos, a good two months after they left, they divided up the bit of loot they got. There had certainly been plenty of less profitable voyages.

Kare claimed Kirstie’s portion, and he claimed Yrsa’s, since Yrsa was Kirstie’s maid servant. Harrold got generous and gave Kare an extra portion to help him buy his own longship. He called it a wedding present. Kare stopped by the shipwrights and gave the whole amount to them before he checked the progress of the building. The ship was fully framed. It had a strong and sturdy looking mast. It looked solid, a good ship, and the planking was being added before the fixtures for the sail and the oars.

Meanwhile, Inga visited with Kirstie and the first words out of her mouth when she heard the story were, “I am so sorry.”

“It was inevitable,” Kirstie said softly. “Sadly, I have fallen in love with someone else. I only met him twice, but I love him, and I believe there is a real connection there. Wilam. He is from Northumbria, so I will probably never see him again.” She took a deep breath. “Kare is my husband now, and I need to try to be a good wife.” She almost choked saying Kare and husband in the same breath, but she was resigned and determined to make the best of it.

“Kirstie,” Kare called, and she went to him. She walked. She did not run. “Let’s go home,” he said, and Kirstie turned toward her home. He stopped her with the words, “Where are you going?”

“Home,” she said.

“I don’t live there.”

“You do now,” Kirstie responded. “That little shack you live in is not fit for a ship’s captain. I have a good farm and thralls to keep it earning a profit. Plus. I bought the two properties next door toward the long field when the families moved to Nidaros. We can lease those properties to families to work it for a portion of what they grow, or we can find a few more thralls to work the land ourselves. I have the forest in my back yard where we can hunt for skins and furs to trade. We can sell your little shack, or maybe build a warehouse there down by the water to store all our goods for trade.”

Kare thought hard about it. “You got any more money?”

Kirstie tried hard not to curl her lip as she took Kare’s hand and led him to her place. “No more money,” she said, whether that was true or not. “You are like a nobleman now, land rich and cash poor. As long as you treat the thralls and men willing to work the land with respect, we can slowly accumulate plenty of money; maybe more than you can imagine. Of course, if you drive off the help, we will gain nothing.”

She looked at him and he understood the look well enough. “I can be good to the hired help,” he said.

She said, “Better let me run the farm. After all, you will be sailing off on regular trade missions once your ship is finished, so you won’t be around. Just don’t be mean and demanding of the help. I don’t need the headache of constantly trying to make peace.”

“I’ll be good. I can be good,” Kare insisted. Kirstie would have to wait and see. She figured she would rather go hag hunting than be put in the middle of the demands and complaints and hurt feelings, and constantly having to come up with compromises. She prayed that they finished Kare’s ship real soon.

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

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Kirstie

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

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

“Where do you think you are going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Vortesvin,” she called.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mother,” Manannan nodded to her and vanished.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Abraxas.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

END

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MONDAY – TUESDAY – and WEDNESDAY

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

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

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

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

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

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

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

“He is not lying,” Yrsa said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, I get a second,” Kirstie said.

“You have your girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Kirstie

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

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

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

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

Yrsa nodded slightly but said nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They began to make plans.

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

“Where are you going?” Thoren asked.

“To relieve myself?” Kirstie said.

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

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

“Not necessarily,” Kirstie tried to object.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That would be dangerous,” Father McAndrews countered.

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

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

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