Water Sprites

Medieval 6: K and Y 12 Follow, part 1 of 2

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Kirstie

“Lady?” Yrsa stepped up alongside Kirstie and Wilam as they looked at the approaching islands. Kirstie looked worried. “Lady?” Yrsa prompted again.

Kirstie shook her head to bring her thoughts back to the task at hand. “I’m sorry. My mind is worried about Soren. I have never been away from him for so long.”

“Don’t worry,” Wilam assured her with a hug. “He has three grandparents to spoil him, if we include Brant’s mother, and three uncles to keep him entertained.”

“Birdie and Missus Kettle will watch over him,” Yrsa said. “Soren has known the dwarf wives since birth and loves them well.”

“I know all that,” Kirstie said, and added in a small voice, “But I miss him.”

Captain Olaf stepped up to the railing and commented, not quite catching up to the conversation. “I’m also sorry we missed them in Aberdeen. Catching all three there would have simplified things.”

“I thought we might catch all three of them,” Kirstie agreed. “But it is almost like they knew we were coming,”

“Yes,” Wilam agreed with his wife. “We will have to ask the one here in the Orkneys how they knew and slipped out to sea just before we arrived.”

Captain Olaf offered a suggestion. “They were not likely welcomed in Aberdeen and may have left before they got arrested. It might have been coincidence that we just missed them.”

“Well,” Wilam said. “At least we lost one of our slow belly boats in Aberdeen because they had trade there. We will lose another one here.”

“Well.” Captain Olaf said the same word and in much the same way. “Captain Otto has a ship like my own and many crew from Lucker. We both have some fill-in crew from Lucker and Ellingham. There will be at least two ships to the end of the journey, wherever that takes us.”

Wilam and Kirstie nodded. Yrsa kept her eyes on the port, as Brant directed the rowers and guided the ship into the bay where they would drop anchor and take a longboat to the dock.

Yrsa began to report what she saw with her good elf eyes. “It is Kare’s ship. They are making no preparations to hurry away. There are many officials in the port. They appear to be waiting for our arrival. It looks like Kare and the men of Strindlos and Nidaros are being watched.”

They stopped and dropped the anchor. Captain Olaf ordered the lifeboat to be lowered. Captain Otto stopped close to them, and he lowered his own lifeboat. The belly boat that had timber to trade for the Orkneys angled in toward the dock. The other belly boat that said they could take their trade to the Shetland Islands, or even the Faroe Islands if they had to go that far kept back from the others in a place where they could watch.

“There are men on the dock that look like soldiers,” Yrsa warned as they squeezed ten people into the lifeboat.

When the two lifeboats reached the dock, Captain Olaf went straight into merchant mode. “Torf-Einarr, my old friend. How good it is to see you again.”

Einarr Rognvaldsson, Earl of the Orkneys grunted. “Olaf.” He kept his eyes on the women who came to the dock. Olaf went with it.

“May I present Lady Kristina of Strindlos, the Maid of Lindisfarne, and her faithful companion, Yrsa.”

Einarr looked at the two in their comfortable dresses and smiled. He imagined the story he heard had to be terribly exaggerated.

Kirstie caught the look and called for her armor. It instantly replaced her dress and came with all the weapons attached, including her battleaxe. Yrsa quietly changed her dress to her leather and pulled her bow almost as fast.

Einarr’s eyes went from unbelief to shock, and he mumbled, “Your husband is waiting for you.”

“Wilam is my husband,” Kirstie said, patting Wilam on his chest. “I divorced Kare the jerk two years ago.” She marched right passed the Earl and his guard so she could yell at Kare to his face. “You idiot!”

“As soon as I found out you were following us, I stopped to wait for you. I swear,” he said.

“Men of Strindlos,” she said, looking around at the faces behind Kare, many of whom she knew. “And Nidaros,” she added for the rest. “I am ashamed of you all. You are acting like a bunch of Vanlil. It was not that many years ago we drove off the Vanlil that wanted to loot our homes and kill our women and children, and now you have gone and done it! Thoren, I am especially ashamed of you.”

Thoren stepped up. “I refused to participate. There were five of us. We kept the ship while the rest went.”

Kirstie nodded that she heard, but she noticed Einarr stepped up to listen to the exchange. “Kare. Captain Riggson has agreed to make room for our stuff once he unloads the timber he brought. You need to return everything you pirated.”

“Too late. It has all been confiscated.” Kare looked at the earl.

Kirstie turned her eyes and Torf-Einarr spoke softly. “I will keep some, but I can return some and maybe compensate a bit for what I keep.”

Kirstie knew that he would return a pittance and offer a token of compensation, but it was better than nothing. She turned back to address Kare’s crew and drew on some information her Storyteller hastily researched. “The earl here spent his first years as ruler driving the pirates away from his islands. Now you have played the pirate and you are in his hands. You should listen to what I told the captains of Strindlos. Trade works. We have a great forest full of Norwegian lumber, and animals whose furs and hides would be much appreciated by these… Orcadians. Fair and free trade makes for happy people on both sides of the North Sea.” She turned to the earl. “And happy people are not rebellious people and will defend their happy homes from invaders.” Einarr gave her a slight nod as he thought about it.

She turned again to Kare. “I am sure the earl here, or his merchants would pay a fair price for some lumber and quality furs. It would require some work and would not make you instantly rich, but you can make a good living and not worry about someone wanting to chop your head off for piracy.” She shrugged, like it was not her choice. “Personally, I would send you home with nothing. Poorer but hopefully wiser. But it is not up to me.” She turned her back on them.

“Kirstie,” Kare pleaded, and Kirstie turned back, but only to say one more thing. “Thoren, with the earl’s permission, you and your five that refused to participate in the raid on the villages can ride with us, if you want.”

Thoren looked at Kare. He looked at the earl. Then he looked at Kirstie and shook his head. “I think we may negotiate and work something out. I also believe it is important not to abandon one’s captain and crew.”

“I’ll tell Hilda you love her,” Kirstie said.

“Hilda?” Einarr asked, enjoying the drama.

“His wife,” Kirstie said.

“My wife,” Thoren said at the same time.

Kirstie turned back around and did not even flinch when Kare called her again. She called to her dress and her armor vanished. She hugged Wilam as soon as she could. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” she whispered. “I was forced into the marriage. I tried, but he was just horrible. I thank God for you every day.”

Wilam just smiled at her.

“Ahem,” Captain Olaf got their attention. “I’ve arranged with the harbor master to supply food for the three ships for a voyage of unknown duration. It is getting expensive.”

“I will pay you what I have. Money doesn’t matter. I have a family now, including a younger brother. I always wanted a younger brother.” She smiled at Wilam, but he spoke.

“Nonsense. The people of Lucker and Ellingham will pay your expenses.”

“Some of the men will not be happy that these are being let go,” Captain Otto interrupted. “Some would like to see these men hung for what they did.”

“I understand,” Kirstie said. “And they may well be hung or give their heads to the axe. The thing is it is out of our hands. The Jarl of Orkney will decide their fate.”

Captain Otto indicated that he understood, and added, “I have got a promise from the clerk to send a full accounting of the goods and any coins the earl may return or pay. It is not that I don’t trust Riggson, but he has been known to scoop some off the top as a transportation fee.”

“Delivery fee,” Kirstie said. “Not entirely unreasonable.”

“So, only one question.” Captain Olaf patted his ample old belly. “Where do we go from here?”

Kirstie nodded. “Vingevourt,” she called. He came right away and reported without being asked.

“The two ships anchored in the Shetlands for two days. They resupplied, whatever that means. Then the one with the women and the hag headed for the Faroe Islands, and the other headed toward the Norwegian shore, but just about an hour ago, the one headed for Norway turned around and also headed for the Faroe Islands. The second ship is at least a full day behind the first.”

“Odger,” Kirstie guessed. “He knew he could not go home to Vigg but imagined he might hide out somewhere in Norway where I could not find him. It took a day to realize I would find him no matter what. The elves or dwarfs would find out and tell me, wherever he went.”

“We can cut the corner by skipping the Shetland Islands and heading straight for the Faroe Islands. When can we leave?” Captain Otto asked Olaf.

“As soon as we resupply. First thing in the morning, on the morning tide,” Olaf answered.

“Lord Vingevourt,” Kirstie began, but Wilam interrupted.

“The one ship has a hag aboard?” Wilam caught the word. “Are you sure?”

“Yes indeed,” Vingevourt said in all seriousness. “A most terrible monster. I remember Lord Festuscato faced the hag prototype, the one named the Grendel, the son of the werewolf.”

“Festuscato?” Wilam looked at Kirstie.

“Me. Five hundred years ago.” She tried to whisper in Wilam’s ear.

“Grendel,” Captain Otto asked. “Beowulf?”

“That’s the one,” Vingevourt said. “But Beowulf did not finish the monster or the mother…”

“Wait. That part does not need to be told,” Kirstie said out loud. “It is a long story. Anyway, Lord Vingevourt, we will leave in the morning. With some speed, we might catch the one ship in port and the other just arriving.” She turned to the captains. “I hope we can arrive about the same time as Odger.”

“We will help,” Vingevourt said.

“Thank you for all your help,” Kirstie said. “And thank all of your sprites.”

“Our pleasure,” Vingevourt said, and the words sounded truly gleeful. He fell back off the edge of the dock and a couple of men reached out instinctively, like they were going to keep him from falling into the water before they realized what they were doing. Vingevourt disappeared in the waves.

Medieval 6: K and Y 11 The Chase, part 2 of 2

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Kirstie

Kirstie took his hand and led him down to the beach where the last of the Viking ships, Kare’s ship was still visible in the distance. The men had come to the rocks with the horses, but only a few followed Wilam and Kirstie down to the beach. They heard the call, and it was strangely soft and loud and somehow echoed across the sea. “Vingevourt.”

It took a few seconds before a good hundred little blobs of sea took shape and invaded the shore, not like a wave breaking, but like an invasion of Jellyfish-like gingerbread men. The humans took many steps back, but Kirstie spoke to the king of the water sprites of the North Sea.

“We need to follow the three Viking ships that just left this shore. Can you track them and help our ships follow in their wake.”

“We can do that, easy,” Vingevourt answered, and he answered in such an excited, sweet baby-like voice some of the men who backed up moved forward again.

“We will be leaving from Bamburgh in two days. Can you meet us there to help guide us? That will give the Viking ships a two-day head start, but we don’t want to lose them.”

“Oh, don’t worry. We know every ship and shore in the sea, and we will be right on top of them all the way. Would you like us to slow them down until you get there?”

“Not at this time. Just lead the way and let us know when they stop in a port, and where they are.”

“Why sure. Not a problem. Meet you in two days.” The jelly babies turned back to the sea.

“Goodbye,” Wilam said, smiled, and waved.

“Goodbye. Bye. See ya later. Bye.” the sprites all answered.

Kirstie turned to Wilam and hugged him. “My water babies are so cute.” she breathed, and Wilam did not disagree with her.

“Beg pardon,” Brant interrupted them. “You don’t have a ship to follow them.”

“Well?” Wilam said. “We just have to wake Captain Olaf from his August sleep.”

Brant nodded and said, “I’m not waking him. But one ship on three is not very good odds.”

One of the elders spoke up. “Captain Otto will sail with you. He is coming with the men on foot. I’ll explain it to him, and I am sure there will be others.”

Kirstie just smiled up at Wilam. “We have time to get Soren settled before we sail, but you will have to lead my horse while I hang on. Talking in my head with my little ones always gives this mortal woman a headache.”

Wilam kissed her on the top of her head. “I’ll take it slow.”

Yasmina

Al-Rahim insisted. He took Ziri and Gwafa into town and secured rooms in a hostel. They would have a home cooked meal and warm beds and would not have to set tents in the wilderness for a change, but Al-Rahim would go first to make sure it was safe. They all knew it was risky, but the princess had been very good camping all those weeks without complaint. Now that they reached the no man’s land, where the Fatimid and Egypt both staked a claim but neither side actually controlled, al-Rahim thought they might get away with a visit to a village if it was small enough and out of the way enough.

Ziri and Gwafa stayed in the one road that ran through the center of the village, looking for enemy soldiers, possible hostiles, or any people that might be interested enough in the news and current events where they might contrive some way to betray them for a reward. Such things were not always easy to spot, but the village looked peaceful enough.

Al-Din and his three men stayed in the wilderness with Yasmina and Aisha. They hid behind a small rise in the landscape. Al-Din, Yasmina, and Aisha climbed up to the top of the rise but could not honestly see much, except Aisha who had elf eyes.

“There are men and camels in the distance coming to the village,” Aisha said.

“A caravan? Merchants or soldiers?” Yasmina asked.

“How can you see that? All I see is some distant dust,” al-Din said.

“Caravan,” Aisha concluded. “But Berbers of some sort.” That meant they might be friendly, and they might not. The Fatimids filled their army with Berber soldiers.

“A rider,” al-Din pointed and turned to his men. They were the last of the guard sent by the governor of Alexandria on the diplomatic mission to the Fatimids. They agreed to work for al-Din, at least until they got back to Alexandria and got paid. “A rider,” he shouted to the men. “I think it is Ziri. Omar, go check it out.”

Omar mounted his horse, sort of saluted, but he did not say anything. The others watched as the riders met and saw them wave to join them. Yasmina slid down the back of the rise. Aisha walked it with no problem. Al-Din tried to walk, but stumbled and in the end, rolled the last few feet.

When they mounted their horses, Yasmina spoke to everyone. “Remember, I am Jasmine, my maid is Yrsa…” She pointed at al-Din. “And you are Aladdin, my cousin. Now, like we planned.”

Omar waited to ride beside al-Din. Yasmina and Aisha rode behind, and the last two guards, Ali and Sulayman, brought up the rear. Ziri rode out front and brought them to the hostel before he explained.

“Captain Al-Rahim overpaid to secure two rooms. The other three in the hostel are reserved for the caravan chiefs that are expected to arrive soon. The man says they come through about once per month and sometimes take all the rooms, but sometimes only the chiefs take rooms and the rest camp in the street.” Ziri shrugged. “We get the street, but we will be by the door in case we are needed. The man said they are friendly merchants, so we will see.”

“You better set your tents,” Aisha told the men. “I saw camels in the distance. They will be here shortly.”

Aisha, al-Din, and Yasmina all went inside. Then they had to sit at a table and wait for three hours until the caravan arrived, and the merchants got settled. It was late when the food came, and al-Rahim had to make some threatening noises to make sure the boys outside got fed, which he had paid for in advance.

The chiefs of the caravan seemed nice, but standoffish. After they ate, they went straight to their rooms, but there did seem to be a bunch of Berbers coming and going throughout the evening.

Al-Rahim felt suspicious from the beginning. He set up a watch on the inside balcony outside of their two rooms. Each of the guards stood vigilant for two hours in the night. Al Rahim himself stayed in al-Din’s room and imagined they would be safe enough, but around midnight he got up and ordered the men to saddle the horses and pack everything to leave. Omar, the head of al-Din’s three guards thought he was being paranoid, but the men complied and then had to sleep outside in the open.

Gwafa was on watch when an old woman came to him from one of the merchant rooms. “Please,” she said. “Tafir is an old man, and he will hurt himself. Please, could you help us? It will only take a minute.”

Gwafa looked at the curtains covering the two doors and thought it should be all right. He stepped down to the room and the woman opened the curtain. As he went in, he found two men there. One covered his mouth, though he let out a muffled cry when the other stabbed him in his chest. The two wrestled Gwafa to the ground and stabbed him several times before he stopped moving. When they went to the balcony, two other men met them.

Aisha woke as soon as Gwafa cried out through the hand over his mouth. She woke Yasmina, banged the pommel of her knife against the wall to wake al-Rahim and hopefully al-Din, and woke Yasmina again who did not want to get up.

“Dress,” she said, and brandished her knife which got Yasmina’s attention. Yasmina yawned but called to her armor and weapons when she heard the men in the hall. The men came in quiet and carefully, thinking the women were still asleep. One got Aisha’s knife. The other got sliced across the chest with Yasmina’s scimitar. Yasmina stared at what she did with dumb, uncomprehending eyes while Aisha finished the man.

Al-Rahim poked his head into the room and said, “Hurry.” They hurried, Yasmina still carrying her scimitar in her hand. When they got outside in the dark, they heard noises and a couple of screams from overhead. Aisha grabbed Yasmina’s scimitar and wiped it clean on her sleeve. She reached to put it back in the sheath, but Yasmina said, “Go home,” and the scimitar and sheath both vanished.

Aisha got Yasmina up on her horse while al-Rahim did the same for al-Din. We have to ride. Now!” Al-Rahim shouted and started down the road, right through the middle of the Berber caravan camp.

“Gwafa?” Ziri asked.

“Not coming,” Aisha said, and it was the last thing any of them said as they rode hard. One arrow came in their direction, but it fell way short. Al-Rahim pulled up on a bump in the road to look back. He could hardly see well, even with the nearly full moon and all the stars out.

“Hopefully, they will not follow,” he said.

“We could go off the road,” Omar suggested.

Al-Rahim shook his head. “This is their land. They know the countryside and we don’t.” He looked at Yasmina and Aisha, both of whom yawned, Yasmina because she got so rudely awakened and Aisha because she was what Kirstie would call a light elf, and not made for the dark hours. “Our only hope is to continue on this back road until we come to the coastal highway. Hopefully we can lose them there.”

“If they follow,” Ziri said.

“You could go this way,” someone by Yasmina’s feet spoke which made Yasmina shriek and pull up her foot. She almost fell off the horse. When she squinted down, she identified the little one and yelled.

“Creeper!”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, like he forgot. “Boo.”

“Not funny,” she said before she changed her mind. “Slightly funny.”

“Me and my gang have been following you,” Creeper spoke up. “I figure right now you could use some help getting away where they can’t follow you.”

“Do you think?” Al-Din practiced his sarcasm.

“Is it safe?” Omar asked.

“Which way?” Al-Rahim had no problem following the imp.

“Come,” Creeper responded to the old man and led them by elf ways and secret paths that put some real distance between them and any pursuers they might have.

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

MONDAY

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Medieval 5: K and Y 13 Delayed and Interrupted, part 1 of 2

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Kirstie

Before the dawn, Kirstie and Yrsa found Inga and Hilda with baby Erik on the dock. There also appeared to be a dozen men standing around, waiting. Inga explained, but she used her matter-of-fact voice and did not seem the least worried about the situation.

“The ship appears filled with water sprites and they are threatening to drown anyone who dares to come aboard.”

Kirstie paused and hugged Hilda. “I’m so sorry,” she said for the hundredth time, and Hilda began to cry again, though it was a soft cry. “I’ll just see if Yrsa and I can do anything about this situation. I’ll be right back.” Hilda nodded. “Come on,” she grabbed Inga’s hand.

They walked up the plank to the deck of the ship, and the water appeared to pull back from their face to leave about two feet of free space around the girls. “Vingevourt,” Kirstie called, and the sprite extracted himself from that mass of water.

“Lady,” he said and bowed this time.

“Vingevourt. This is my good friend and self-designated mother figure, Inga. And this is my good friend and self-designated she-bear protector, Yrsa. This is Vingevourt, Lord of the North Sea, in case you should meet again.”

“My pleasure,” Vingevourt bowed again.

“Now,” Kirstie said. “Thank you for protecting our treasure, but we need to board now and prepare to sail on the tide.” She looked around the ship filled with water that slowly leaked back into the fjord. “I hope you didn’t get everything soaking wet. That would make for very uncomfortable sailing, not to mention rot the wood.”

“Don’t worry, lady,” Vingevourt responded in his precious baby voice. “We were careful to keep away from all the wood and from your things. When the men come aboard, everything should be dry and ready to go.”

Kirstie smiled because most of her little ones were much smarter and more thoughtful than most people realized. “Thank you. Bless you,”

“Thank you too. Glad we could help,” Vingevourt said, and he blended into the last of the water that fell over the side. Yrsa already stood at the gangplank.

“It’s okay. The water is gone. We can board now, safely,” she hollered. Some of the men grumbled when they came aboard but finding everything dry instead of soaking wet satisfied most of their complaints.

Kirstie went back to the dock to hug her friend again, and Hilda spoke though her tears. “But Kirstie, what am I going to do? Troels is the only man who really cared for me. When I got pregnant, he married me right away so no one would know.” Kirstie paused to let Hilda cry on her shoulder. She knew many men were not as good about getting a young girl pregnant. Some outright denied that they had any responsibility. Troels did seem to care about Hilda, but he was gone now.

“I heard Thoren say he felt sorry. He said you deserved better.”

“You and Kare,” she said.

“Not by my choice, but Thoren seems nice.”

Hilda nodded. “He is nice,” she admitted.

Inga interrupted. “Jarl and Leif are here. You better get going.”

Kirstie nodded and then caused some more grumbling from the crew, and some shuffling of seats. Kirstie sat in the front and Yrsa sat in front of her so they would not be stared at by most of the crew through much of the voyage.

~~~*~~~

Jarl opted to follow the coast all the way to the Frankish north shore. They had good weather crossing the North Sea from Norway to Denmark, so Kirstie felt optimistic about the trip, and Jarl knew his seas well enough to travel down the correct side of the Jutland Peninsula. The sky clouded over on a couple of days, but the sun stayed out most of the time. They got all the way to just shy of the Eider River before a sudden storm came up, and it was a whopper. It did not occur to Kirstie yet that maybe Abraxas was playing with the weather. This one blew up a real gale and terrifying waves.

“Must be a cyclone,” Kirstie shouted as Yrsa tied her to the railing.

“In the North Sea?” Yrsa wondered.

“Extratropical. A real Nor’easter,” Kirstie said, not that Yrsa knew what that was.

“Storm surge tides will be bad,” Leif shouted back.

“It’s bad enough here,” the man with him also shouted. Leif the skipari, and the man, Old Man Skarde, tied themselves in the very front where they could keep some sort of watch on where they were going. The sail was down, and rowing would do nothing. They were at the mercy of the sea, but it would be bad if the sea decided to push them too close to a rocky shore. Jarl and two others were tied to the steering board, not that they could turn the ship much if they did head toward the rocks.

Kirstie kept her head down to keep as warm as she could in the cold rain. She checked her weapons every few minutes to make sure they were well fastened in. After forever, just when she thought the wind was lessening, a giant wave broke the railing where she was tied. She got dragged out to sea before even Yrsa with her elf speed could grab her.

Kirstie went underwater, but she was not afraid. The rail of the ship might drag her down, but she could both breathe underwater and handle the pressure thanks to the gift of Njord. Besides, the storm did not seem so bad down below.

It took her a few seconds to untie herself, and she headed back toward the surface in just her underthings, having sent her armor back to where it came from. Only then did it occur to her that no one else got dragged overboard. Something fishy about this, she thought. No pun intended. Someone spoke to her inside her mind, and she identified the voice as Amphitrite, queen goddess of the sea. Okay. Kirstie agreed without a second thought, and she went away from there. Amphitrite came to swim in her place, dressed in her mermaid tail.

Amphitrite immediately rose up about ten feet above the waves and checked. She saw the string between the cyclone and the Saxon Shore and did not doubt who was responsible. She sent a sharp thought to Abraxas. “You mess with my winds and waves again, and I will kill you.” She shook her head. She never ever thought that way, but Abraxas had shown he would not understand anything less. “Manannan.” Amphitrite called to the sea god and waited a second before she added, “Do I have to get your mother to fetch you?”

“Majesty.” Manannan appeared standing beside her in midair, still ten feet above the waves.

Amphitrite harumphed and put her hands to her hips. “Please move the cyclone over Saxony and southern Danish lands. My water babies can feed the trees. Try and limit the storm surge. This is an artificial event created by Abraxas. And please pay attention. If he starts to play with the weather again, you have my permission to kick his butt from here to the moon.” She waved him off.

“Majesty.” He bowed again and vanished.

Amphitrite looked down. A pod of dolphins found her and presently circled beneath her feet. “Come children,” she said. “Let’s catch up to the ship.” They swam and played, regularly breaking the surface as they moved. A family of whales joined the game, though they stayed further out. As they approached the ship, Amphitrite knew she was not authorized to fix the ship, but she did check the ship. The hull was good and undamaged. The deck and seats were soaked. A few seats could probably stand to be replaced. The sail had a tear, and the mast was tilted, but the only real break was right where Kirstie had been sitting. Amphitrite understood that was not an accident.

“Too bad,” Kirstie said in Amphitrite’s mind, thinking Amphitrite could fix and strengthen the ship with a mere thought. “Maybe we can stop by that village on the Elbe, like we did with Rune. Last time we told the village men we were just making repairs and would leave them alone. They accepted that and left us alone.”

Amphitrite nodded. It is rarely wise to intervene in the normal course of events, even if the damage is caused by an unnatural event. It is not my place to fix it. I am not the fix-it genie.

Amphitrite made the final leap to the deck of the moving ship, now settled down as the storm pushed off. The men were up pointing at the whales in the distance, and the dolphins near to hand. Dolphins were a sign of good luck, even to Vikings. Yrsa, poor girl, looked terribly worried, but when Amphitrite made the jump to the ship, she traded places with Kirstie, so Kirstie landed on her feet, reclothed in her armor, right next to the girl who sighed her relief. Leif let out his obligatory little shriek and Jarl gave it his best blink. Old Man Skarde had the courage to squint at her and ask how she managed that.

Kirstie noticed her armor was perfectly dry and even repaired in one spot where she had a tear so small, no one but her would notice. She smiled for the crew and told her story, embellished enough to make Yrsa the elf embarrassed at the lies. Kirstie did not tell them about Amphitrite, or about Abraxas causing the storm. She figured the men had enough to worry about without that. She did tell them about her encounter with the sea god who promised to move the cyclone over the land and off the sea. She credited Manannan with getting the dolphins to carry her back to her ship.

“And when the lord of the dolphins threw me to the deck, I thought sure I was going to crash into the mast.” She pantomimed splatting against the mast and a few of the men laughed softly. “Captain,” she said quickly, and Leif listened as well. She told them how Captain Stenson stopped near a village on the Elbe, and how she and Yrsa talked to the village men and found them more than willing to not want any trouble.

“The village men left us alone on the promise that we make our repairs and leave, which we did.”

“Can you find this place?” Leif asked. He got out the chest and the chart to see how far away the Elbe was. While Kirstie nodded, Jarl asked a more pointed question.

“I was looking at the charts right before the big storm hit. So, how do you know the Elbe is the next big river?”

Kirstie looked the man in the eye. “I am a navigator, as was my father.”

Jarl blinked again before he nodded and turned to the charts. “I had forgotten.”

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

MONDAY

The ship needs repairs which is a bit tricky when you are a ship full of dreaded Vikings. Until next time, Happy Reading.

*

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

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Kirstie

Jarl and Leif met them at the ship. Frode also came with a boy and holding a puppy. Kirstie wondered about that, but first she had to get her things loaded. The dwarfs kindly put the things where they belonged and then sang a bit of a tune and danced their way back to the dock.

“What was that?” Leif asked. Kirstie noticed Leif kept his distance from the dwarfs and stared at them with wide eyes.

“Nothing bad,” Booturn said. “Just a good luck song and dance so you have a successful voyage.”

Kirstie had to cover her mouth, but Alm laughed. They were singing an old dwarfish song about being freed of their burden and about needing a good, stiff drink before they went back to work.

When Leif and Jarl faced Kirstie, she had something to say. “We need to leave on the morning tide. You better not sneak away this evening with all my goods.”

Jarl and Leif looked at each other, and Jarl spoke. “You know, I really am a nice person, and mostly an honest tradesman. You have to trust me if you are going to be part of my crew.”

Kirstie nodded. “I do trust you, but there are sticky fingers around here, and my dwarf friends have to get back to Svend and Fiona. They can’t stand here on guard all night.” She put her fingers to her lips and let out a great whistle. A big wave came up to the side of the boat and broke into hundreds of water sprites that clung to the railing and splattered on the deck. They looked like gelatin forms of gingerbread men. They all looked alike to human eyes, and many sounded the same, saying the same phrase in squeaky, baby-like voices.

“Lady needs us. Lady needs us.”

Leif let out a shriek. Jarl blinked, twice. Frode just smiled, and the boy next to him said, “Wow,” sounding much like Oswald and Edwin used to sound.

“Vingevourt,” Kirstie called the head sprite who stepped forward and gave the humans a mean look. “I am asking. Would you and your wave makers please keep a watch on this ship and all the goods, like the amber and the ivory, so it is all here safe and sound when I come back before the dawn?”

“It will be our pleasure to guard all these things.” The sprite saluted and several sprites saluted with him.

“Thank you. I will sleep well tonight knowing my treasures are in good hands.” She turned and began to walk away without another look. The men followed her.

“How will they stop a determined thief? Jarl asked.

“Men drown.” That was all Kirstie planned to say.

“See you in the morning,” Leif said that much and the captain and his skipari walked off on some last-minute errand.

Kirstie turned to Frode. She petted the puppy in his arms. “He is lovely,” she said, and smiled for the boy.

“She,” the boy said.

“Our buhund had a litter of puppies. My wife thought you might like one. You could use one to help herd the sheep and keep them out of the grain fields. They are also good with cattle, and boys.” He paused to smile at the boy beside him. “This is my son, Knud. I don’t know if you have met.”

“We have,” Kirstie said and also gave the boy a smile. “Let me see,” she said and reached to take the dog.

“They are wary of strangers,” he said before he realized the puppy seemed willing. “They have lots of energy and can be well trained. Unlike some people, they seem to prefer to have something to do. They can get ill-tempered if they are bored.”

Kirstie nodded that she heard but stayed focused on the puppy in her arms. Yrsa, who walked behind holding Alm’s hand poked her head forward and noted, “He likes you,” she said, even as the puppy gave Kirstie a wet lick.

“I would not worry about the puppy getting bored,” Kirstie said. “We have two overactive boys at the house, Fiona and a giant.” Frode stopped walking, but then started right away again. “Birdie, the dwarf wife keeps the clothes patched and clean. The dwarfs mostly eat and sleep. Alm, here, keeps everything together.

Frode gave a nod behind him to what looked to him like an ordinary young man. “That must be hard.”

“It is not always easy,” Alm admitted, and Yrsa leaned over to kiss his cheek.

They walked quietly for a while, and Kirstie made soft noises to the puppy who seemed happy in her arms. She thought about a baby when she talked to Yrsa about having a Yrsa baby. She thought about it again while holding her puppy baby. She tried really hard to not think about Kare, but sadly there was not anyone else she was interested in and at least he seemed interested in her.

“Ours is not a big village,” Kirstie said. “When I was growing up, Hilda was the only girl near my age. Liv, Thorbald’s daughter came along later. Fortunately, we became friends, but honestly there was not anyone else.” She leaned over a bit to speak to Knud. “Oswald just turned eleven. Edwin will be nine soon.”

“Knud is ten,” Frode said.

Kirstie nodded and asked. “You don’t mind him being friends with thralls?”

Frode answered honestly. “I hope they may become friends. Knud spends too much time alone.”

“Not true,” the boy protested. “Brunhild plays with me, and now that she has had puppies, I have my hands full.”

“Understand,” Kirstie told Frode. “I hope they may become friends, but if he treats them like thralls, like less than human, he will be sent home and not invited back.” She did not glance at Knud, but the boy heard, and he heard his father’s response.

“I would expect no less,” Frode said. “We have done our best to raise the boy right.”

“Fair enough,” Kirstie said, and they arrived.

“Lady. Lady.” Oswald and Edwin came running to see what the wiggling thing was that she held in her arms.

Kirstie held the puppy out to the boys. “This is Flika,” she said, and then she added something the others did not understand, but she was honestly answering one of her own lifetimes. “I know it is the name for a horse, but I haven’t got a horse and I like the name.” She continued. “Flika, meet Oswald and Edwin. Oswald and Edwin, this is Flika.” The dog barked. “And this is Knud Frodesson.

Frode spoke right up to the boys. “I thought Knud and I might stick around this afternoon to help Flika get adjusted to a new home.”

“The puppy is ours?” Edwin said in his excited voice while Oswald and Knud sized each other up.

Kirstie set down the puppy who was wiggling up a storm. “Why don’t you start by showing Knud and Flika the sheep pen.”

The puppy paused and looked up at Kirstie. She said softly, “Go on,” like she was giving the dog permission. The three boys and the barking puppy ran off with Alm and Frode following.

“We need to get ready to sail in the morning,” Kirstie said to Yrsa’s nod. “I hope Alm will stay with Frode in case the dwarfs or Vortesvin shows up.

“I am sure he will,” Yrsa said, and they went to the house to put a few things in a shoulder bag.

~~~*~~~

In the dark of the night, well before the dawn, Yrsa woke Kirstie with the word, “Time to go.” Yrsa yawned. She was an elf of the light and did not normally get up in the dark time.

Kirstie sat up and petted her puppy who chose to sleep in her bed. She dressed in her armor. Her weapons attached themselves and she picked up the curious puppy. They went first to the cooking fire which had been banked for an easy restart in another hour. They found some bread and water along with some leftover roast in the oven.

“I can’t imagine the dwarfs did not eat everything available,” Kirstie said.

“Oh, Fiona stole a bit and hid it in the oven for us. She knew we would be leaving early,” Yrsa answered.

“Not like the dwarf noses could not have found it,” Kirstie countered.

“She told them to stay away from it and Birdie threatened them.”

Kirstie nodded. “A threat from a dwarf wife would do it, but I imagine Toodles is watching even now to claim what we don’t finish.” Yrsa smiled as she heard the sound of shuffling in the bushes with her good elf ears.

After a bite to eat, Kirstie picked up her puppy again and went to Fiona’s house. Vortesvin slept outside by the door. He opened one eye to see who it was, but Kirstie just told him to go back to sleep. They went in. Fiona slept in the front room, and she stirred, but did not wake. The boys slept in the same big bed in the back room. Oswald did wake. Edwin almost woke. Kirstie put the dog down between the boys with a word. “Now, go to sleep.”

The puppy panted at her. Oswald laid down and closed his eyes, a smile plastered on his face. Edwin mumbled something unintelligible and slung an arm around the puppy. Flika licked the boy’s face, and that brought out his smile while Yrsa and Kirstie backed out of the room and out of the house.

Reflections Flern-7 part 1 of 3

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

When the Jaccar reached the wall of wagons, the bowmen had put down their bows and picked up their spears, clubs and long, hunting knives. Some had farm hoes and whatever other sharp instrument they possessed that might be turned to a weapon. They bunched up in the gaps between the wagons and got up on the wagons to strike down on their enemy. They were determined to keep the enemy outside the wagon wall, but the Jaccar were just as determined to break in. This became the worst of it for Flern. She got off the wagon top and stepped away from the action to watch, but in reality, she covered her eyes because she could not watch.

One of the Jaccar who tried to push his way through a gap between two wagons, spotted her, and shouts went up and down the Jaccar line. The Jaccar doubled their efforts, and before Flern could do anything at all, a half-dozen Jaccar pushed through in two places. Those gaps in the line quickly closed, but now there were six Jaccar inside the wall of wagons, and that might have been dangerous if this had been a real battle. Fortunately, the Jaccar were only interested in one thing, killing the young, red-haired girl, and that became a problem for them because she was not there anymore. Diogenes had taken her place and drawn both his sword and long knife, and he got angry at the thought that good men probably got killed or hurt when the Jaccar pushed through.

These Jaccar were not really soldiers, though they were perhaps fighters after a fashion, with some experience against hapless opponents. They had never faced anything like Diogenes, to be sure, one trained in the finest military school in Pella, Macedonia, raised to lead men in battle, born to take every ounce of his aggression out on the Persian army, and he did so massively on more than one occasion. Diogenes once killed an elephant with his bare hands when that elephant was bearing down on Alexander. Surely even six Jaccar would be no problem. To be honest, it did take a minute to kill them all, but then it took no longer than a minute. A village man and a traveler came up when they realized that it would not be a good thing to have the enemy at their backs, but they just watched in stunned silence.

Elluin, Thrud and Vinnu each shot their arrow at the beginning, but then they escaped to hide under the tarp, and Vinnu at least had her hands over her ears the whole time as well. They saw it all, and also the look on Diogenes’ face that suggested he really wanted to wade out into the thick of the fighting, and only reluctantly got distracted by the noise downriver where they expected the Jaccar cavalry. Diogenes walked in that direction, surprised to hear cheering.

The scene was simple, and Diogenes understood something the men in that place did not understand. Miroven and his band of thirty were devastating the Jaccar. Their cavalry charge stopped in mid stride, and those Jaccar that were lucky enough to escape the first volley had no escape but to dive into the river. Of course, the river spit them back out, much to their surprise, and then a second arrow from the elves finished the job.

One traveler turned around and quickly nudged the others. Diogenes did not explain a thing. “Get back to the place you were taken from. Go reinforce the main line, now!” The men hurried. Even if they did not recognize the armor, and they likely did, no one argued with a man splattered with blood and who had blood thick and dripping from his weapons. “Miroven.” Diogenes said it out loud, because he had learned the contact got better when he spoke out loud, and now Flern would know that as well since he had done it in her lifetime. “Go and take the Jaccar from the rear. “I don’t want your knives in the battle, but your bows may help if your aim is good.” Diogenes did not play at war. Unlike Flern, he had no qualms about using Miroven’s thirty volunteers for the work for which they volunteered. Miroven understood perfectly well.

“Yes, my Lord,” came the response, and Diogenes turned back toward the main battle. He arrived just after the men he sent, and that force turned everything against the Jaccar. Flern’s men on horseback were in ragged lines on the left and right, and while they were not greatly impacting the battle, they made sure no Jaccar escaped in those directions while they slowly advanced. Some of the sturdier men followed Diogenes out beyond the wall where they could come face to face with their assailants; some because they had spent the last frustrating ten minutes jabbing with their spears at Jaccar who kept ducking, and then ducking in turn as the Jaccar jabbed at them. The blood lust came up in some of them, and the Jaccar sensed something they had never sensed before. They were going to lose. The blood lust came up considerably in Diogenes, and he, alone, might have sent the remaining Jaccar into flight. Sadly, for the Jaccar, there turned out to be nowhere to run. There may have been as many as fifty who tried for the cloud bank, probably figuring if they could make it to the fog, they just might escape. They did not know there were elf bowmen waiting for this very thing. It may have taken two arrows each from the thirty, but elf bowmen rarely miss. None of the Jaccar made it as far as the mist.

Even though there were casualties, some dead and many wounded, the men from the village and the travelers cheered. Diogenes stayed long enough to clean his sword and knife and make sure they were properly sheathed. Then he apologized to Flern, but she apologized to him, because he was the one who had to do the killing. Diogenes went to the tarp where Thrud, Vinnu and Elluin were still in hiding, and he tried to smile for them. When Flern came back, she let go of her armor. She wanted her own dress back. She wanted to be one of the girls again, and she proved it by falling to her knees and weeping. Thrud and Vinnu only hesitated for a second before they fell to each side of her and hugged her and wept with her.

When later came, Flern felt amazed to find that none of her friends from home were dead or even had anything more than scratches and bruises. Borsiloff was dead. Karenski was wounded as well, but not badly. Apparently Arania and Trell dragged the old man to safety before he could be more seriously hurt or killed. Pinn was dirty everywhere, like she might have fallen in the mud several times, and Vilder said he had to pry her fingers apart to get the knife out of her hand. Flern saw the knife and it looked like it had never been used, and she was grateful for that, but after her cry, she became ready to give up this whole foolishness.

“I’m leaving,” she told the girls in a sudden decision. “The Jaccar won’t come here again if I am not here.”

“Flern, you can’t.”

“I am sure the village won’t mind if you stay with Tird. They will probably help you build homes. And I am sure Karenski, Arania and Trell won’t mind if you go with them, only I have to go.”

“Go where?”

“Flern.” Vilder spoke, but Pinn stood right there with him, agreeing with every word.  “We started this together and we need to finish together. We are going for the weapons of bronze and then we find the men to set our village free.”

“I won’t be responsible for more people being killed,” Flern said, with as much determination as she could muster.

“But the Doctor,” Vinnu said. There were many wounded who could use her help, but Flern shook her head again.

“These people need to know the true cost of standing against the Jaccar and softening the blow would not be a good thing.” Doctor Mishka argued with Flern in her mind, but Flern was not going to be swayed.

“Flern.” Kined spoke at last. She had not seen him since the night Bunder tried to rape her. He had kept away, and maybe she had as well. “I believe in you,” he said. “You will figure it out, and I will be here, waiting for your return.”

“Kined!” Tiren and Vilder objected, but Gunder put his big hand out.

“Maybe she needs time,” he said.

“I will miss you,” Fritt added, and with one last look in Kined’s face, Flern turned and walked toward the mist. She went into the cloud and disappeared. A wind came up right away. The cloud dissipated slowly, but no one felt surprised that when it was gone, so was Flern.

Reflections Flern-6 part 3 of 3

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“The Jaccar will wait until morning at the very least,” one big man said. Vilder, Tiren, Gunder, Borsiloff and Karenski all looked at Flern, and she did not disappoint them as she shook her head most firmly. She heard from Diogenes and the Princess, her two experts in this sort of thing, and she spoke as well as she could, and with an uncharacteristic decisiveness.

“The Jaccar may wait until morning or until the rain stops, but we cannot count on that. My decision would be to press forward in the bad conditions because I would expect my enemy to become lax and lazy. I say double the watchers in the night and be sure they can keep watch on each other as well. That way, if some sneaky, grass covered Jaccar takes out one watcher, the other can raise the alarm.” Flern looked down at her boots. She felt sure that whether in the night or in the morning, good men were going to die to protect her. The Jaccar seemed only interested in getting to her, after all. “Maybe we can plan a surprise for them in the morning,” Flern said offhandedly. “A good bit of morning fog might help.” She looked up toward the sky, full of rain clouds. She started toward the tent, not wanting to argue with anyone. Vilder called after her to ask where she was going, and she did not mind telling him. “Doctor Mishka needs a nap,” she said. “And so do I.”

Flern woke up before sunrise and sat up to very little light. It took a few seconds of eye adjustment to discern that the other girls were all present and sleeping. The rain had stopped, and the clouds had cleared off, so the light of the nearly full moon helped a lot. What is that knocking at my door, Flern wondered. “Who is there?” She asked out loud, but soft enough to not wake the others.

“Miroven.” The answer came quickly, and a message came with it. “The Jaccar have arrived in force, nearly a hundred, and they are preparing to move.”

Flern jumped up. “Show time!” She shouted, and everyone in the tent began to stir, slowly. Flern called for her weapons and felt surprised to learn that she now knew how to use them. Of course, she understood that head knowledge and hand knowledge were two different things. She felt the other gift, too—the one from Baldur. Wlvn received the gift of speed. She knew, but it probably would not help her fly. “Show time!” Flern shouted again. “Hurry up!” She said, as she left the tent.

Flern listened to Miroven as she walked to what she called the command tarp. “We are presently arrayed behind their position. If they pull back, we will have them.”

“I hope by the time we are done, there will be none left to pull back,” Flern said, and she cut the connection and found that her headache did not feel as bad as before. Perhaps, in time, she thought she might be able to do this without any headache at all. Flern had gotten up when Mishka awoke, and she arranged things before she put herself back to bed. Now she would see, and she let her thoughts drift up to the sky, and the few lazy clouds that remained there.

“Little friends in the sky, come down now. Bring the clouds to make the wall and I will be so grateful.” That was all she thought before she came to Karenski and the lone village elder who presently had the duty. Gunder stood there as well to represent the young people, and they all looked at her for what to do. “Get the men up and moving,” Flern said. “They are coming.”

“Are you sure?” Gunder asked, and Flern frowned. She did not need her own people questioning her. She was not used to this command business, and such a question might make her question herself.

“I am sure.” That seemed all she could say. Fortunately, it was enough. As the men went off to their appointed tasks, Flern floated up to the top of the nearest house wagon. She looked up briefly and said thank you to Nanna, the moon goddess for the flight, and again as she felt the light of the moon rise up inside of her. When she raised her hands, she still did not know if it might work, but sure enough, light came from her hands and then from her eyes, and it looked like several spotlights of moonlight, like moonbeams that she could move back and forth. To be sure, it looked dim, not much better than spotlight flashlights, but it looked strong enough to reflect off the gathering fog bank. The bank looked more like two hundred yards off rather than a hundred yards, but it should still work if the sky sprites made it thick enough. If the Jaccar came on foot, she figured the travelers and villagers would have an advantage, being able to deploy some of their men on horseback. But if the Jaccar came on horseback, she felt they would be in trouble. A cavalry charge would overwhelm the poor defenses of the village. This artificial fog bank created by her sky sprites should make a cavalry charge impossible. The Jaccar would have to slow considerably to get through the fog lest they become disoriented and begin crashing into each other.

Flern turned off her lights when they began to simply reflect back from the fog. She scared herself a little because it took a minute to figure out how to do that. “Entering the fog on this side. They are on foot.” Flern heard from her elf spy while she floated back to the earth. “There are thirty horsemen down the riverbank. I suspect they will charge once the footmen engage your forces.” Flern’s panic must have been palpable as she ran to where Vilder waited, Pinn beside him.

“Vilder. They have horsemen downriver. What are we going to do if they charge our flank?”

Vilder might not have known what a flank was, exactly, but he moved quickly to draw one in five men on the wall of wagons to reinforce that side. The sides of the wall had been virtually deserted to strengthen the center where they all felt sure the Jaccar would strike. Now, the downriver side of the wall got staffed again. “We can’t do more,” Vilder said. “We can only hope that if they charge, these men will be able to hold them until we can send more help.”

All of a sudden, poor Flern became a nervous wreck. She felt sure that this would not work, and good men were going to die needlessly, for her, to protect her. “Pinn?” She looked to her friend, the strong one on whom they always depended.

“There isn’t any more we can do. We are as ready as we are going to be. I only wish it was over,” Pinn said, and walked away to catch up with Vilder. Flern followed more slowly and dragged her feet but started when she heard from Miroven once again.

“They are coming to the edge of the fog bank and should present targets soon.” Flern ran.

“Get ready!” She yelled. “Get ready!” she shouted down the wall and jumped-floated up again to the top of a house wagon. She saw the first, and then more and more, coming on slowly and carefully. There seemed so many of them, Flern had to hold her breath and listen very closely to the words inside her head. She had to bite her lower lip to keep from screaming despite Diogenes repeating his phrases, “Be patient. Not yet. Be patient.” When Diogenes finally said, “Now!” She almost did not hear it. Then she shouted, and while the barrage of arrows turned out to be an intermittent thing, there were enough arrows all at once to pin more than one Jaccar to the ground.

The Jaccar charged as arrows continued to rain on them. Flern’s hunters knew how to shoot a bow and hit their target, even if they were not warriors and did not have the experience at war that the Jaccar had.

“Again!” Flern shouted, and she let her moonbeams fall on those places where the Jaccar were bunched up. Any archer attracted to the light could hardly help hitting someone with an arrow. Then the arrows stopped, not all at once, but in a ragged sort of way as the horsemen from the villagers and travelers pushed out between the wagons and, spears in hand, affected a counter charge. These men were chosen for their ability to hunt with their spears from horseback, and they cut big gaping holes in the Jaccar charge, but there were still plenty of Jaccar coming on, screaming and yelling in a way that would frighten the villagers and travelers, not because the Jaccar were courageous, but because they were giving voice to their own fears. The screams were the sounds of terror and imminent death. Many were going to die.

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

MONDAY

There is a battle and Flern runs away, but then the mixup happens and Flern ends up vanishing.  Wlvn takes her place and there does not seem to be a way back. Until Monday, Happy Reading.

*

Reflections Flern-6 part 1 of 3

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The river ford ran by the back of the camp. Flern walked in up to her ankles and stopped. She knelt down to place her hand in the water. The naiad had spoken to Wlvn about the water sprites, and Wlvn went under the impression that they were part of his responsibilities since Kartesh, when the Kairos got made responsible for the little spirits in the Earth. They were sprites, or spirits in the air, the fire, the water, and the earth, but at the moment, she had to try and get in touch with the ones in the water, this water, if there were any. It turned out to be easy, and in almost no time a little gelatinous head popped up from the current.

“My Lady,” the sprite said with deep respect, despite the squeaky little voice. Elluin and Vinnu looked a little frightened at this sight, but Pinn, Thrud Arania and Borsiloff all looked fascinated. Flern had to do everything in her power to keep herself from reaching out and hugging the cute little thing.

“I have a dangerous thing to ask you,” Flern sounded like a mother who might speak to a child. “And I will be just as happy if you say yes or no.”

“Please tell.” The water sprite spoke in a voice as cute as his looks, and he looked anxious to please his Lady.

Flern put on her most serious Disney Princess face and shook her finger. “I mean it now. This is a free choice, and I would not want to see any of my water babies hurt.” She could not help calling them water babies. She thought that the instant she caught sight of that cute little head. “Do you know who the Jaccar are?”

“Dirty muddy creatures,” the sprite answered, with a look meant to say he did not think much of the Jaccar, but which in reality made him look cuter than ever.  “Some swam in our good waters in the night.”

Flern nodded. “Well, if any more try to swim the river, you have my permission to stop them and wash them back to their own shore, and if you cannot stop them, you must come tell me right away, before they reach the village shore.”

“We will!” The sprite smiled and appeared to dance in the water. “Thank you, Lady. We will! You will see.”

“Thank you, Sweetwater.” Flern called the sprite by name. She was not sure how she knew the sprite’s name, but if these water babies were indeed part of her responsibility as it appeared, it would only be natural for her to know them all by name. Flern cut off her thoughts in that direction before she did know them all, and all at once. She felt rather certain that such an influx of information would have incapacitated her mind for some time.

“Now Tird?” Flern looked back at Pinn for guidance.

Pinn smiled very broadly. “Now Tird,” she assured her. They started to cross the ford at that point, but found their feet lifted from the water so that it felt like crossing a bridge, an invisible bridge made of water itself, and Flern heard Karenski in the distance as he now yelled at men to get up on those wagons!

Vinnu looked afraid to cross the river at first, but Flern took her hand and helped her. “They are sweet and will never hurt you,” she assured her friend. Vinnu looked like she was not quite sure.

When they got to Venislav’s house, Flern suggested that all of the wounded be brought to the common house to be tended for their wounds. Any number of people were wounded, not just Tird, and even one Jaccar survived the night raid. No one moved, though, until Pinn insisted on it, and then she insisted that the healthy men get out to the front line with the travelers and the young people.

The village elders that helped bring the wounded to the common house stood there, ready to protest that the Jaccar might swim the river again and they needed to protect their families. Borsiloff and Thrud tried to explain, and Pinn eventually took over explaining how Flern had solved that problem. They looked at Flern, and since she was waiting for that moment, she took advantage of it by instantly trading places with Doctor Mishka. Mishka was even an inch taller that the Princess, and her brown hair, a genuine brown, but the most startling thing, for those who noticed, was seeing Flern’s fawn brown eyes turn suddenly blue. The Princess had blue eyes as well, but no one watched that transformation.

“My friends are on that line.” Mishka spoke right up. “You would not want it said that on that day, the children showed more courage than their elders.” That stung a couple of the elders, and the rest wisely held their tongues. “Go, go. Now, go.” Mishka waved them off like she might dismiss a class. “Borsiloff, I need you here in case I need to send word to Karenski. I am Doctor Mishka, from Saint Petersburg. I had the dubious honor of learning my trade in a world war and practicing more than a lifetime in the Second War as well. Just remember, I am no miracle worker. Sometimes people die despite our best efforts, is it not so?” They all nodded, more or less. “Now let us see who we can help.” Mishka called to that same place her armor came from, and a little black bag appeared in her hand. She knew that with some of the equipment and medicine in that bag she tempted time and there might be a danger of changing the future, but she remained a careful person and her things never went far from her hands. Besides, this far in the past, more than likely they would not even recognize what she was doing, and no way they could duplicate her equipment. “Go, go,” she said. “See who you can help.” Elluin, Vinnu, Arania and Borsiloff went to see what they could do, but Pinn and Thrud shadowed the doctor.

When she came to Tird, she saw the terrible gash down his leg. It had been bandaged after a fashion, and it had stopped bleeding, so he appeared in no immediate danger of bleeding to death. Vincas sat right there with him, holding his hand, letting him squeeze her hand every time the throbbing pain in his leg became unbearable. “He saved my life.” She kept saying it over and over.

Tird said nothing but, “Who?”

“Flern,” Thrud answered.

“Mishka,” Pinn corrected her friend.

“Your healer,” Mishka clarified as she removed the bandage and spread an ointment over the whole area which had the effect of anesthetizing the leg in a few seconds. She pulled out a scalpel, a hemostat and a pair of tweezers and shocked everyone by first opening the leg. “We must make sure there is no stone or metal inside to poison him.” Mishka explained. “You should be around in the days of lead bullets and powder burns.” Seeing that the wound was clean and assuming it bled clean, Mishka got out her needle and self-dissolving thread. “A dermal regenerator would be better, but we use what we have,” she said, and sewed up the leg as neatly as sewing a tear in a dress. “You must stay off it for a week,” she instructed. “If you do, it should be good as new.” Then she polished it off with some antiseptic and a clean bandage and told Vincas how to be sure the bandages were always clean. “Boil them. Boil them.”

R6 Greta: Downriver, part 2 of 3

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Hermes paused at the side of the ship, bucket in hand. “I don’t want to accidentally scoop up one of those water babies.”

“It’s all right,” Mavis heard and responded. “It is what they live for, and you would not know if you did.”

“They live for?” Alesander asked, and Briana looked up as well.

Once again, Greta felt the need to explain. “Water sprites live to make a splash. They are the white in the whitewater, the ripples in the pond, the waves in the lakes and at sea.  They are very regimented wave makers.  They bubble up from deep beneath the earth in the springs and wells, and live to throw themselves up on the sandy beaches and against the rocky places which they eventually wear down to sand.  They have a symbiotic relationship with the air sprites who they meet where the steam rises and in the rain that falls.  In fact, falling with the rain has got to be the best water slide, ever.”

“But the rain splats on the ground,” Briana worried.

Greta nodded.  “And the ground takes them in where they nourish and bring life to all the plants and animals, or they evaporate and go up again to fall in a new rain, or they sink down deep to rise up again with the spring waters that find their way back to rivers, like the one we are on, and eventually they once again reach the sea where my lovely dolphins frolic and play.”

“Your dolphins?” Alesander asked.

Greta nodded, but did not explain.  She made sure everyone was present around the cooking fire and said something else.  “The water sprites in the river will take us safely to our destination, but you all must make sure you don’t fall overboard.  I cannot guarantee your safety if you fall into the river.” Everyone looked around and wondered why she had to mention such a thing.  No one had any intention of falling overboard, and Bogus looked like she jinxed everyone to do that very thing the minute she said it, but he did not say anything out loud.

“Now,” she continued.  “It has occurred to me, in case you have not noticed, that the Wolv, and the Scythians for that matter, have all focused on getting to me and have become confused when I borrow a different lifetime.”  Heads nodded.  They had noticed.  Greta also nodded and checked her armor.  It would adjust in size and shape to whatever lifetime she currently inhabited.  Then she finished her thought.  “It is an oversight I am sure Mithrasis will correct soon enough, but in the meanwhile, I will be other people for a while.  You will know it is me from the armor I wear, so do not be afraid.”

With that, Greta stood and went to the back of the boat where she turned her back on everyone, sat, and dangled her feet off the edge.  Mavis came to sit beside her, but Greta did not mind.  At the same time, a fog rolled in from both riverbanks until it swallowed the boat, whole.  It appeared thick enough to make sight difficult more than a few feet away, and it felt very unnatural, but comforting in a way, like someone laid a warm blanket down for the boat to silently sail beneath.

When Greta felt sufficiently covered, she traded places through time with Amphitrite, queen of the waters.  Mavis turned her head away from the goddess out of respect and began to worry her hands in her lap.  Amphitrite smiled for her, but said nothing.  Her mind wandered all the way to the other side of the world, to the savannah lands of the Amazon.  She found the school of fish she was after and insulated them against the cold waters of the River Heartbreak.  With a thought, she transported them to where she was, and tied them to the boat, to follow in their wake and not get lost.

“I felt something,” Mavis admitted.

“Hopefully unseen by bigger fish,” Amphitrite said and stood, so Mavis stood.  As they stepped from the edge, Amphitrite went away and the Storyteller came to fill her shoes.  He paused a moment to take a good look at Mavis, a real, live elf maiden, a privilege he did not have in his lifetime; though that, as they say, is a long story of its own.  “So how do I look?” he asked.

“Lovely,” Mavis said, and the devotion was so genuine, the Storyteller staggered.  He wondered why he could not show such devotion to the King of Kings.  He turned and spoke to the group, most of whom he could just make out in the fog.

“Howdy Folks.”

“He says hello,” Mavis translated the English.

“You kind of missed the impact,” the Storyteller said. “Words.  That is my business, you know.”

Pincushion interrupted.  “Lord, how can I cook in these circumstances?  I can’t hardly see the food.”

“Hush,” the Storyteller said and Pincushions eyes got big and her mouth closed.  “Just do your best.  That is all we can ever do.”  He sat and Mavis sat next to him to translate his words.  “This fog should keep the Wolv from seeing us and hopefully keep them from smelling us.”

“True enough,” Bogus interrupted.  “I can smell the trees along the river, but nothing beyond that.”

“I hope it will also interfere with their instruments. The only thing is, it will deaden the sound, but not stop it.”  The Storyteller whispered.  “We have to be as quiet as we can to avoid detection by Wolv ears.”

“Eats.”  Pincushion spoke up like she called a whole regiment for chow.  Everyone jumped.  Then everyone ate a fine lunch.

Four hours later, the Storyteller traded places with the Princess.  Somewhere in the back of her mind, the storyteller remembered that three or four hours was not enough to throw off the sleep routine.  She imagined if she remembered enough lifetimes, she could probably stay up for a whole week without ill effect as long as she traded places with another life every three or four hours.  So at four hours, he became the Princess.  That happened about four in the afternoon.  At eight o’clock, when people began to get ready for bed, she became Martok the Bospori, an alien life that looked relatively human for a man only five feet tall, if he did not show his eye teeth and kept his yellow cat-like eyes turned away.  At midnight, Gallena of Orlan took over, which was not a person to frighten anyone, despite the pure white hair and lavender eyes.  Those things were hard to tell in the dark and fog; but she did have to keep her six foot, six inch Barbie-doll body seated the whole time.  This was not a problem since, apart from the one on watch, the others were unfortunately snoring.

R6 Greta: Downriver, part 1 of 3

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Greta slept in the moving boat while Alesander, Lucius, Hermes, Vedix, Bogus and Briana took turns with the poles and kept as much eye as they had on the dark riverbanks, at least to be sure they did not get too close in the dark.  Pincushion slept in fits, getting up and down through the night.  She fretted about how she could make food that anyone could eat. Her nose was good, and she said she would smell the Wolv if they got close, but that did not help keep them from starving to death.  Mavis got up several times in the night and spent Hermes’ shift with him.  She said her eyes were not made for the dark like Ulladon, but her ears were sharp.  She told them when she heard movement along the banks, but she said she sensed beaver and once a bear, not Wolv.

When Greta woke in the morning, Briana asked if maybe the Wolv lost the trail.  “Not a chance,” Greta answered.  “They have eyes like a fairy, I should say, like an eagle, ears like an elf or a bat, and noses like true dwarfs, like bloodhounds that can smell us miles away.”

“My turn,” Hermes butted up with a question. “I don’t understand why this boat was just sitting there untouched.  If Wolv attacked my city, escape by the river would be an obvious option.”

“Boat’s too big?” Briana guessed.

“Probably single people or maybe a family went for the river, but there were probably smaller boats for the taking,” Alesander added.

“This big freighter was probably more than one or two could handle, especially if the attack came at night.  We only got it because we had the hands.” Briana finished the thought.

“They probably came at night” Greta wanted to explain.  “But you must remember, they are like people, they are smart, they are not animals. They probably moved right away to cut off the river as an avenue of escape.  They maybe even swam the river to close the port first thing.”

“They can swim?”   Hermes looked from bank to bank, but he sounded a bit like Nudd.

“Doggie paddle.”  Greta nodded and she took a moment to sigh for Nudd.  “But wait.”  She had another thought.  “This boat does not exactly have a shallow draft.  You men don’t know this river, the currents or the deep-water channels. How is it we haven’t run aground?” Greta imagined that might be what the Wolv were waiting for, but Mavis knew the answer.

“Water babies,” she said.  “They came early in the night when we set out and promised to keep us in the deep water and away from the banks.”  Mavis let out a mighty grin because water sprites were the cutest things.  That gave Greta an idea.  She stood and called to the sky.

“Sky babies, please come and hear me.  Water babies, listen.”  Then she waited because they were not like ogres who had to be told everything twice.

It only took a moment for the waves around the boat to form into dozens of little gingerbread-like jelly babies.  The one who jumped up on the deck shouted, “Good Lady,” in a sweet baby voice

“Bubbles,” Greta called the sprite by name and offered a small curtsey.  “Thank you for your good care of my person.”

“Think nothing of it.  A pleasure.  A real pleasure,” Bubbles said before people were distracted by two small clouds that looked to be falling from the sky.

“Lady calls,” one cloud spoke.

“Calls to us,” the other cloud agreed.

“We are here,” the first said.

“Here we are,” the second agreed.

“Fluffer and Sprinkles, welcome,” Greta said, as the two clouds took on human-like form to stand on the deck.  They were not much bigger than Bubbles, and even though they had a head, arms, legs and such, they never lost the look of little clouds. The people on deck stared and Briana wondered if the clouds were male and female, though she had no way of telling, and when she asked Mavis, all Mavis could do was shrug.

“How can we help?” One of the cloud people asked.

“We want to help,” the other echoed.

“Now babies, I have a request.”  Greta got down on her knees and whispered.  She did not want Lucius to hear.  It took a little time, but when she finished, she stood and said, “Thank you.”  The cloud people reverted to clouds right away and rose again into the sky.

“We will do everything you ask,” one cloud spoke.

“All you need to do is ask and we will do it,” the other agreed.

Bubbles stood as tall as he could, just over a foot tall.  He appeared to salute as he made his way to the edge of the boat.  “You can count on us,” he said in his sweet voice.  “We will bring you safely to the place I am not talking about.”  He waved from the edge before he dove back into the water and disappeared.

Greta stood with the inevitable grin on her face. “No need to pole,” she said.  “The sweet water sprites will carry us safely.” The others smiled as well until Lucius broke the spell by asking where they were going.  Greta answered, and as the saying goes, she lied like an elf.

“When we join up with the Muskva, we will turn upstream for a few miles and pull in to the north shore at a place where I hope the Wolv won’t find us.”  Greta knew she was no good at telling lies.  Mavis, Bogus and Pincushion all caught the lie, and Mavis gasped, but Bogus spoke right up to provide cover for the words.

“Those water sprites will have a hard job pulling us against the current, but I am sure they are up to it.”

Greta wisely said no more about it, and Pincushion changed the subject.  “Lady. Did you arrange for us to build a fire somewhere?  I can’t hardly cook on thin air.”

“Let’s see what we can find,” Greta said, and she, Pincushion, Hermes and Mavis scrounged through the hold beneath the deck. What they came up with was a bronze shield that might work as long as no one stepped on the edge and tipped it. The fire would have to be small and stay centered, but Pincushion said she could work with that, even if she could not do much.

“We have two buckets,” Hermes said, and lifted them. He found some rope and handed one bucket to Vedix.  Vedix filled his right away while Greta, Mavis and Pincushion found a place amidships where they could lay the shield and prop it with other artifacts to prevent it rolling.