The Pilgrim and the Dark God

By Brooks Horsley

The journey of Erin Milesdottur from our 21st century to the medieval age of a sister world is an exceptionally strange story told in Against a Fell Current.
Erin’s circumstances in her new world are unusual; she is the copilot in her own body while Loki, the dark Norse god, is pilot. Loki takes control intermittently and only under unusual circumstances so most of the time Erin is ‘in charge’ and possessed of godlike powers. Truly helping other people is tricky and difficult, especially if you’re twenty first century and they are medieval, but Erin, with tact, wisdom and imagination manages this difficult feat brilliantly. The only thing truly beyond her reach is getting home to her own world. Or is it?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Nov 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9781663231635

Brooks Horsley

Brooks Horsley is a radiologist from Boston who now lives in western Kentucky. He has a longstanding interest in science and science fiction.

Book preview

Copyright © 2021 Brooks Horsley.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

iUniverse

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.iuniverse.com

844-349-9409

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-6632-3162-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6632-3163-5 (e)

iUniverse rev. date: 12/29/2021

This book is dedicated to

my wife Linda Horsley,

she is treasured and dearly loved.

CONTENTS

FUR WARS

JON

Summer Rain

Katya

The Tipsy Bear

Trouble, and What Came of It

A Quiet Evening at Home

ERIN

Vision Quest

Ambivalence

Pubbing in Serenity

IAN

A Rescue

Granny

Pendulums and Ambushes

JON

Success

Pillow Talk

Stories Around the Summer Fire

ERIN

On Headaches and How to Treat Them

Dr. Bachman - Again

The Epiphany

Marty and the Future

IAN

The Flight Home

Pubbing with Tom

JON

Manzur

Sealed

Launched - with a Surprise

Musing by the Fire

The Battle of the Belt

Round Two

ERIN

The Education of Pierre’s Kind Heart

Moira

JON

Trade Fair

The Saami

The Troll’s Story

A New Breeze

New Directions

IAN

Driving Home

Ian Fired – and Reflections

Corin

JON

Chichi´

Mendero

How Jon and Riad Fared

New Plans

ERIN

Father James Visits

The Wisdom of Father James

Early Fall Evening at Home

JON

Chichí - Mama Mia!

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Lightning Strikes

What Happened to Snorri

Fluke

IAN

Back at the Office

Tom’s Problem

Miguel Lends a Hand

JON

Back to Chichi´

Riad Does Chichi´

Gisí’s Story

The Plan

The Djinn

Jon’s Surprise

ERIN

A Close Call

Changes

The Shieling

JON

To Serenity

A Late Autumn Stroll

JON AND ERIN

Dueling Gods

The Bar Maids Tale

JON AND ERIN

Aftermath

Walking Home with Fasti

Jon and the Genie

GREDEN

ERIN AND JON

Three Conversations

Teríus

The Cozy

While Waiting

North to Greden

Meanwhile Back in Greden

A Bright Idea and What Came of It

Home

Walking with the Uncle

The Stroll Continues

Jon Takes Stock

Pillow Talk II

Getting Settled in Greden

Breakfast with Vestein

Skafti Breaks with Elaine

Jon and Manzur

Flor

Skafti After Elaine

Halldis Erpsdottir

An Idea is Born

Summer

ASGEIRSSON

Valgerd

JON AND ERIN

A Quiet Evening at The Bear

Heading North

IAN

Serenity

Waiting in Terius

The Pub Adventure

Flor Strolls the Docks

Ian Leaves

Back Home

ASGEIRSSON

Arnvid

JON AND ERIN

Loose Ends

IAN

The Messenger

Towards Loxa

ERIN AND JON

Winter in the Far North 1

IAN

A Wet Autumn Evening

Evening Two Days Later

ERIN AND JON

Winter in the Far North 2

IAN

Mytok

ERIN AND JON

Home

WESTMARK

Westmark

Flor in Westmark

The Althing

Four Years

Skafti

Skafti Continued

The Games

Halcyon Days

Fasti

The Courting of Flor

Tying up Loose Ends

Back in Westmark

The Last Althing

End of an Era

Ian Back Home

TOWARD THE END

JON AND ERIN

Thorstein

Erin

Early Winter in Newland

KRISTIN

Heading to The Smokies

ERIN AND JON

Bonompak

Tenόchtlan

KRISTIN

Grandma Linda

ERIN AND JON

Ground Zero

KRISTIN AND ERIN

Home

EPILOGUE

Erin

Tom Sadler Ambushed by a 55-Year-Old Academician Niece

Jon’s Puzzle

Pubbing with Skafti

Odds and Ends

FUR WARS

JON

Summer Rain

Jon had only just gotten comfortable when yet another leak found him; this old barn might just as well not have a roof for all good it was doing him. Jon, in hope of a drier spot, moved a yard to the right. In the last ten minutes he’d moved three times. Jon was beginning to think an hour from now it would turn out Skafti had picked the only dry spot in the barn; how did the man always wind up exactly where he needed to be?! This thought was accompanied by a clap of thunder so commanding it shook the barn the way a terrier shakes a rat – and Jon quit assuming the barn would survive the storm. All things must end, and their shed was long in the tooth and overdue; perhaps today was the day.

But in truth Jon was in a good mood, and yet again his gaze strayed to the ballista which, just before the storm, he and Skafti had recovered.

They had captured it two years ago and such was the beauty of the device he had decided to keep it. He dug a hole in the floor of a nearby abandoned old barn, covered the ballista in oil cloth, put the earth back in place, and rearranged the surface to look as though it had never been disturbed.

Why? At the time Jon couldn’t have said, beyond thinking something so clever and beautiful must have a strange and wonderful destiny. But far at the back of his mind he was starting to grope towards a new approach to war at sea. Now his vision was fully grown, his need great – and the ballista looked as good as new. Of course his mood was good!

From the ballista his gaze strayed to Skafti, who looked preternaturally comfortable in his dry spot and had dosed off.

He and Skafti had started travelling with first light and walked at least ten or so miles before digging up the ballista, cleaning it, and then, as they were about to load it on their wagon, the storm arrived. Should the storm clear they’d probably walk at least another five miles before calling it a day. Skafti probably had the right idea; it was exactly the moment for napping.

Recently Jon had been focused on how to site the ballista on their knorr and there had been no time for keeping track of Skafti – and Skafti needed tracking. Jon chuckled; yes, Skafti did have a knack for being where he needed to be, witness the current dry spot and cozy nap, but at the same time he was gifted in being where he emphatically didn’t need to be.

Jon’s mind, both for something to do and with an eye on preventive maintenance, carried out a careful Skafti patrol; inevitably points of alarm and concern appeared.

Ten minutes after these thoughts Jon saw his chance; Skafti was half consciously brushing away a fly.

Then, calling over from the developing swamp to the dry land, You missed the bastard, Skafti; if you mean business you’ll have to wake up a bit.

Skafti, half awake, Wha, what bastard?

The fly, Skafti; you missed him.

And thus it was Skafti was lured into wakefulness, to the great misfortune of the fly. Organizing oneself to kill something so nimble as a fly is to arrive at 110% wakefulness.

After retiring the fly Skafti said, Think this storm will lift in time to get us a few miles?

We can hope, Skafti, but it has a steady, settled look to it and I bet against any travel till tomorrow.

Jon paused, I’ve lost track of you for the past two weeks, and Dyri tells me they have seen but little of you at the pub. While I won’t bet on the weather clearing anytime soon I would bet a handsome sum you are entertaining someone’s wife; what’s her name and circumstances?

This made Skafti a tad grumpy, If you’re trying to get me to bet against you, forget it. Don’t take it personally; on policy I don’t bet past midday in stormy weather, nothing good seems to come of it.

Inwardly Jon sighed, he’d been right, and given Skafti’s knack for trouble the hussy would be the wife of some local eminence.

Come on Skafti, share with me; I need to keep track of such things. Knowing your ways it is probably the wife of Gustave Schmidt.

Gustave Schmidt was a wealthy and powerful christian merchant and Jon was exaggerating to make a point. Unfortunately, his innocent remark was met with a stunned silence.

Jon, how in middle earth do you know?! I have taken great care – and have no wish to make trouble for us. Besides, Elaine, the wife of whom we speak, is a forward, enterprising sort who came looking for me. Even I am not so stupid as to go looking for trouble of such a size. Elaine seems very practiced and has much to lose – so I have trusted her management of the thing.

Jon was pretty philosophical about life in general and Skafti in particular; still it was good to know, and he’d talk it over with the Troll to map out a few contingency plans.

Be careful, Skafti; we certainly don’t need trouble with Schmidt, who is supposed to buy our furs and ivory, not arrange ambushes in a back alley.

Elaine and the potential risk she represented was somewhat on Skafti’s rather rudimentary conscience so he was surprised and pleased at how well Jon was taking it. Unfortunately, Jon’s recent Skafti patrol had been thorough and included an odd incident a week ago when he and Skafti were crossing the plaza on the way to the dock.

Skafti, last week as we were crossing the plaza, out of the corner of my eye I noticed an obviously wealthy veiled moslem woman studying us closely. As best I can make out she seemed young and attractive. I don’t think I was under scrutiny, which, as usual would leave you. Is there anything else I need to know?

That would be Katya, daughter of Manzur; her eyes and attention seem to be following me of late. As of yet no emissaries have approached and it may, like this storm, blow over. I hope it does. Manzur is a good sort, and my plate is already dangerously full.

Jon was pleased. Then, like a bolt of lightning out of a clear sky, and odd thought crossed his mind.

Spoken like a sensible fellow, Skafti. I want to share an odd thought, but it’s a dangerous thought that might encourage straying onto dangerous paths. What do you think? And as you consider things remember your policy of not gambling past midday in stormy weather.

Jon knew his man; Skafti was hooked.

It’s a good policy, but in deference to you as my leader and older brother, just this once I’ll set it aside.

Good. I’ll share my thought, but only with the added precaution of your oath to not act upon the thought earlier than next year.

Jon paused, I mean it. Skafti, nothing before next year, or better, two or three years from now.

I’ll bind myself for one year but keep your counsel of several years in mind. Events often have a mind of their own and one must play things as they arrive.

Too true. Well, here’s the thought. We are young studs in our prime, but we are now far enough into our prime to imagine life beyond it. The question to consider closely is where you see yourself in ten years. A moment ago the Skafti of ten years from now flashed across my mind. I see him nominally converted to Islam, very light veneer, married to Katya, living on an estate outside Greden, and being managing partner in our fur trade. Vestein and myself will probably be back in Westmark; you, Skafti, by neither temperament nor circumstance are suited to life on the farm. The fur traffic will keep us in touch and I’ll foster your sons. The vital thing, Skafti, is Manzur, who according to the Troll, is a sensible good man. Furthermore, Manzur is wealthy and powerful; he’s the connection to have in these parts.

Jon’s ‘thoughts’ struck an ambivalent chord in Skafti’s heart; he’d already had these thoughts, and in greater detail, and now he had tied his hands for a year! Still, Jon’s estimate was valued and good to have. Since Skafti had already covered this ground there had been time to spot several bears on the projected journey.

"Thanks, Jon; your thought is good. But I see several possible problems. First of all, Katya is at the moment an alluring mystery behind a white blanket and veil; if she’s a cow or a shrew I’ll get to my ten year destiny some other way.

Secondly, Jarl Hoskud casts a very substantial shadow on my path. He’s ambitious, and, notwithstanding noisy christianity, is thoroughly ruthless. Unless I miss my guess he plans to crush Manzur, Schmidt, and men like them, or at least exact yearly tribute from them. Hoskud wants to turn the clock back and, while I’m no sage, this seems harmful and impossible. Greden is an important center of trade and Hoskud is exactly what is not needed. If we succeed as fur traders and he comes to power he will expect us to share, and the bite he puts on us will be that of a bear, not a lemming."

Skafti paused thoughtfully; Lastly, and more distantly, Manzur is mid-fifties, of an age with the Troll, and I have no feel for his two oldest sons, Riad and Hadi.

Jon chuckled, That’s how it is with the future – unknown. So we just set off in a good direction and deal with it as it arrives. The mystery behind the veil and blanket seems an interesting direction – for next year. As to Hoskud, if we destroy the fur cartel and Hoskud puts his hand on our business then he will soon follow the cartel; this I can promise. The other problems you mention are on the knees of the gods – I can’t help.

It seemed to Skafti these last thoughts said it all and nothing further needed saying. Besides, his curiosity had grown over the past two weeks till it seemed he might burst – how exactly did Vestein and Jon plan to site their ballista? How does one reliably use a ballista on something as unsteady as a ship at sea? Surely there was more risk to oneself and nearby fish than an enemy boat 50 to100 yards away.

It was all well and good to be on the bleeding edge of tomorrow, but --- come on! The ocean organizing its motion in your favor was right up there with strolling over to Asgard on rainbows, or trolls singing under bridges. How Jon and Vestein kept straight faces while they talked about the ‘siting’ problem always boggled Skafti’s mind. Unfortunately, their lives would soon be depending on this miracle. So, while Jon was chatty, Skafti changed topics.

Jon, what did you and Vestein come up with for getting the ballista usefully placed on our boat? Your idea of placing the ballista on a column of small wheels would never work well and would break completely just when you needed it most. If you fellows haven’t improved on what I saw there is no need for either of us to worry about ten years from now.

As of a week ago Jon had enjoyed an epiphany, and he was delighted with the question. Jon crossed the barn to sit next to Skafti and ten minutes later had Skafti once again believing in the future. Sighting ballistas on knorrs no longer kept company with rainbow bridges and singing trolls; it was just another mechanical problem surmounted by man’s ingenuity.

Katya

Meanwhile, several days journey south and a little west, near Greden, a beautiful young woman with long black hair and dark intelligent eyes studied herself in the mirror. The face in the mirror had not the slightest hint of the cow or the shrew. In Katya’s estimate, with an eye on the unsettled post-Zarif Galt in general, and Jarl Hoskud in particular, both she and her beloved papa needed a Norse alliance. As she adjusted a rich red bow in her hair, his favorite, she reflected on how to open his eyes. Katya, a thoroughly able and confident soul, could use his help in forging the necessary alliances, but should his eyes remain sleepy and half closed she would and could manage things on her own; her younger brothers Riad and Hadi would be inheriting an estate and situation as rich and strong as the one papa had received from grandpa.

A final glance in the mirror and Katya was satisfied; the favorite bow was exactly right. She walked thoughtfully down the main palace hall towards supper with papa Manzur.

Manzur sighed; it saddened him that his lovely daughter – and didn’t she look charming with that red bow! – should worry over things. He was the one to worry, and he was reasonably worried, while she should radiate beauty, contentment, and happiness – and eventually bear some worthy man many sons, and perhaps even a daughter or two. What gets into these modern girls?! He didn’t remember beautiful women sitting around fretful and worrying in his father’s time.

Katya, my little turtle dove, please smile and be your usual happy self. Some women wear flashing eyes like rare jewels but it doesn’t seem to me you are one of them; the effect is more alarming than exhilarating. I have strengthened all our defenses and the men are training more and harder. Our sentries and security measures are now so sharp and alert not even a fly enters our land but I hear of it. Our policy has always been to mind our own business and leave others to mind theirs. We raise our horses, the best in Gar, and don’t take sides in politics. The various sides struggling with each other buy our horses.

But daddy, times change; what is wise at one time may come to be foolishness in another.

This is certainly true, Katya, but I am not convinced things have changed so much as to make our policy of almost a hundred years foolish. Much change, yes, but so much as you suggest? Probably not.

Then Manzur paused, Katya, I know you pretty well; you came with an idea, and it may be good. Why not share it? I’ll listen.

Of course Manzur was right, Katya did not come to share her fears; it was time to organize and act.

As I hear it dad, Jarl Hoskud is the problem. He is strong, ruthless, and ambitious. He will not stop until Greden and surrounding country are under his heel. You, Schmidt, and others will bend the knee and he will have his hand in your purses.

I have heard as much’, agreed her father, ‘and Gustave is planning to approach a mercenary band sometime next week. I’m not sure this is necessary; we are stronger than you think. What would you recommend?

Uncle Ragi, our big ugly fur trader, has problems up north with the fur cartel and has brought in a crack unit of mercenaries who fought with your old friend Mustafa. The word in the alleys is their young leader is gifted and lucky – and a friend of Sigurdsson. Sigurdsson plans to hand his business over to this young man, which makes him our ally – he isn’t going to want Hoskud’s hand in his pocket any more than you do. If this Norse leader, Jon is his name, is as good as I hear we need to approach him and make common cause – even put our troops under his command.

Manzur chuckled, I’ll talk with Ragi, who I trust and like. What I don’t want is to find us all bending the knee to this new fellow, who may prove a greater headache than Jarl Hoskud ever hoped to be. If Ragi vouches for him perhaps I’ll follow your recommendation. Thanks, best of daughters.

‘So far, so good’, thought Katya, ‘now exactly how do I go about establishing my own Norse alliance?’

The Tipsy Bear

Come on Skafti!’, said an impatient Dyri, ‘aren’t you the fellow who hates working on boats? Now we can’t drag you away! None of us want to miss the fight.

Dyri walked back and looked at the board Skafti had replaced.

Nicely done, Skafti; the Troll and Vestein would be proud of you. I know it’s hard to leave something so beautiful as a perfectly placed board – but you must.

Dyri, like the Troll, Jon, and Vestein, knew his way around a shipyard and his appraisal settled it.

As the men set off for the dog fight Dyri reflected on what had happened over the past few weeks. Skafti, who until recently had worked on their knorr as little as possible and only to get by, was starting to take an interest and pride in his work. In fact it seemed Skafti had now become his own hardest judge and critic, and it had slowed him down – to the point of getting late to the biggest dog fight of the year.

Dyri forgot Skafti and gave himself over to deciding how to bet. The match was far from typical: a large wolfhound from Jedt against a smaller bulldog from Greden. Both dogs had enjoyed a perfect success and left a trail of death behind them. To complicate things further the wolfhound had killed bulldog types and the bulldog type had killed wolfhounds. Dyri considered; should he flip a coin? Keep his money in his pocket?

Skafti, who’s going to win this fight?

The bulldog – but the thing’s so uncertain keep your wager small. And keep your eyes open so you can share the details with me.

Dyri was surprised, You’re not coming?

I can’t – important business meeting.

Everyone laughed; they all knew the nature of Skafti’s ‘business meetings’.

Half mile later they parted, Skafti for his ‘business meeting’ on the north side of town and the boys for a dog fight on the south side of town.

Skafti’s ‘business meeting’ was a little disingenuous – he really did have a meeting with Jon, Vestein, and the Troll – but after this there was to be an exciting meeting with Elaine; the thoughtful Gustave was out of town on real business. Yes, Skafti’s step was light and quick – and did something unusual; instead of taking the short route through the northeast corner of Greden, which would get him to the Tipsy Bear in half the time, Skafti’s feet took him further north and west to the main turnpike which he followed south along the Rel into Greden and the main dock. Immediately off the main dock was The Haven, an inn owned and operated by Magnus Bollasson. The Haven was a bonafide inn, but it was even more a bonafide pub, a pub known by one and all as The Tipsy Bear, or, The Bear.

Why did Skafti carry his thirst the long way around to ‘The Bear’? Why indeed; many a time he had chafed Jon and Vestein for taking the long route. The Norse had grown to manhood in a land of isolated farmsteads, a townless land. Medieval towns were exciting and varied, but were crowded and filthy, places where chamber pots where emptied from second story windows straight into the street, or the heads of hapless passersby. The visiting Norse loved pubs, docks, and marketplaces, but many would walk two miles to avoid one mile of town streets. Skafti, who presented himself as a city slicker, when unobserved walked around rather than through town.

Skafti walked into The Bear, spotted his friends in a quiet corner and joined them; both Vestein and Jon were quiet and thoughtful but seemed in a good mood.

You’re looking good, Skafti.’, Jon said as Skafti seated himself by Vestein, ‘Where’s the Troll?

He’s talking with Manzur; he’ll be along soon.

Manzur?’, Vestein was impressed, ‘Is there a problem?

Not that I know of. Mansur wanted to talk with the Troll. It is a bit unusual, but we’ll know soon enough. Now, tell me about the ballista – is it everything we hoped?

Vestein and Jon looked pleased with themselves. Then Vestein spoke for them, Skafti, after a bit of rough water it is working as expected. We have it adjusted so a fly’s cough can shift the balance. We have a much quicker way to load it. A twenty-pound stone splinters timber comparable to ship sides at fifty yards. The cartel boys will need blow holes, blubber, and a love of cold water if they want to get in the ring with us.’, Vestein paused, and concern touched his face, ‘The boys, and for that matter everyone else, remain clueless?

The boys and Greden remain in darkest night, not a clue.

Jon entered the conversation, Good. Our ballista is working so well Vestein and I are considering a major shift in strategy.

Vestein interrupted, Hold for a moment. Our news will almost certainly frighten poor Skafti and we should fortify him with ale before clobbering him with the new approach.

Matching the deed to the thought Vestein got to his feet and soon returned with three large steins of ale. A little later, when Skafti had half his ale down, So, what’s the big deal?

Till now we have thought of our ballista as something to use when the Valkyrie are clustering around, a safety measure for a lost situation. We hoped, by stealth and changing our patterns to survive and prosper. These thoughts reflect the cartel having four or five ships and far more men, but never knowing where or when to concentrate them.

Skafti interrupted, And now things are changed? We have more ships? We have more men?

No; but we have more ballistas. The new approach is to talk our departure up rather than hiding it; our boys, at the pub, the market, and the docks need to casually let it out that early in August we will be sailing from Greden to do some fur trading. The cartel will be able to mass its strength, hopefully all five ships, and then we are in a position to retire our problems by the boat load rather than one axe at a time.

Skafti digested the new plan. After a few thoughtful sips of ale he said, We won’t get more than three of their boats, if that; the rest will be trading or otherwise engaged. Of these three it is likely one will see what is happening and get away. So a year from now the cartel will have three ships, more men, and ballistas. What then? And if they organize their attack and come at us from several sides and all at once, won’t it soon be axe to axe? Though hopefully only two ships rather than three.

You make many good points, Skafti. The actual war at sea will go better than you might imagine. Till now we Norse have always rowed our boats together, boarded as early as possible, and fought the familiar axe to axe. Vestein and I have developed very strong iron covered poles with which to push ships away – we don’t want boarding and axe to axe. In addition, while we are pushing them away we have Greek fire to throw in their boats, and torches with which to light it.’, Vestein paused, ‘but more importantly, you don’t realize how quickly we can load the ballista or how completely mobile it is. It requires only a moment to switch from side to side.

Jon paused, You know how the ballista rests on a rounded knuckle of wood? We have balanced it so it requires only a light touch to change position. Vestein’s stable platform never moves, only the ballista on its knuckle, like a shoulder joint. If the sea is rough there are side-arms where our men can keep the ballista stable.

Skafti sipped more ale, swirled his ale, then, Count me in, let’s do it.

Vestein and Skafti were a little surprised at the rapid capitulation. Vestein said, There’s more, Skafti; we can’t leave things with the cartel so they attack us when and where they like – early this coming spring we plan to wipe out the Asgeirssons, both father and son. After this, unless they call off hostilities, surprise attacks on the others will follow. Unlike us, these guys have farms and establishments to lose, hostages to fortune; the Asgeirssons will be the incident to remind them. They have more to lose, and their choice will be farms and family – or furs; but not both.

This nudged Skafti, What about your farm, Jon; they might put it to the torch. What about your uncle?

Jon smiled, "I’m ahead of you, Skafti. When we were home I officially ‘sold’ my farm – only of course it’s not real.

My uncle Geir is another matter – I am vulnerable; but they probably don’t know it. Fortunately the uncle lives back from the coast and will have time to react if there’s a raid. For example, Asgeirsson, father and son, live right on the coast – we will arrive with the early morning sun and there will be no warning."

Skafti put his beer bottom up and tabled the stein with authority.

I’m totally on board, and your plan gives us the maximum benefit for our ballista. In years to come I will hate to see ballista on enemy ships, but it is inevitable and no reason to put off getting a little benefit right now.

Vestein got to his feet and stretched, Well, lads, I’m a busy man and have things to do. See you later back at camp.

This abrupt departure rather surprised Jon; Vestein hadn’t even stayed to eat. After ordering something Jon said, Skafti, where is Vestein going?

Skafti laughed, Jon, sometimes you don’t see the sun in the sky. As of about two weeks ago, Vestein fell under the management of Freda Stein, the widow who owns and operates the inn just south of town. He’s been away with you at our northern hideout for 7-10 days and has catching up to mind. You’re the only man I know who can stay focused on nothing but business month after month.

Well, good; Vestein has seen very little of women since Solveig. Is Freda Stein a worthy woman?

She is; at least I like her. She runs the inn well and things are prospering. She is attractive. I think Vestein is in clover; more to the point, so does he. The one who needs to arrange a warm place for the coming winter is you – and all you do is fret and worry over fur cartels and ballistas.

Which reminds me, Skafti; we forgot to tell you our latest cleverness. When we push away enemy ships with poles or operate the ballista we are vulnerable to arrows. We have developed four large shields that fit over and slide on the gunwales. When loading the ballista the two shields slide together to cover us. Then they separate enough to target the enemy ship. The men with the poles will work behind two shields separated just enough to work the poles. Of course our own archers will stay behind the shields when not actively releasing arrows.

Skafti laughed, See what I mean! You’re hopeless.

Jon’s assurances to the contrary never saw the light of day – the Troll arrived.

The Troll was delighted to see Jon, who had been away eight days working on the ballista. As he sat down he said, Well, is the ballista an unusually elaborate way to get us killed – or is it truly useful?

Jon spent the next half hour basically repeating what he and Vestein had told Skafti. Skafti’s thoughts strayed to Elaine and a timeless puzzle; how is it possible women like Elaine come to eventually be ‘just wives’?

He had watched Gustave and Elaine together and it was clear Gustave was no longer really seeing or appreciating his wife – Elaine, miracle and wonder though she be, had somehow become a mere wife. Were he, Skafti, living with Elaine would he also lose her through prolonged domesticity? Surely not! ----- but, maybe? Even he, even so?

Skafti was rescued from such dark and melancholy thoughts by Jon.

As you can see, Troll, the ballista story is shaping nicely; now, what is your news? How are things with your friend Manzur?

Manzur is a good-hearted gem of a man who ambles along a little behind events; it has only recently dawned on him Hoskud may be a headache and a problem. He couldn’t be more right. His daughter Katya suggested he seek a Norse alliance, and he was asking about you; he understands you to be a capable and lucky mercenary captain. He doesn’t want to join with you to avoid kissing Hoskud’s toes then wind up kissing your toes. This, to my mind, is a thoroughly sensible concern and I was able to assure him that you, Jon, like himself, only wish to be left to mind your own business.

Well, Troll, thanks for the good word. Are there any practical consequences?

The Troll gave him a thoughtful smile, There could be. I explained our situation and he understands we are tied up till the middle of next year. Manzur would like to place the defense of Greden and his own forces in your hands, but if this is not possible then, until you can take command, he wants you to look over his forces and Greden’s defenses and make recommendations. I said you would be happy to help.

The men sat quietly for a few moments while Jon thought things over.

I trust your judgment, Troll, and am ready to trust and cooperate with Manzur. We need to know more about Hoskud and his forces, so tomorrow bright and early Skafti and Dyri will leave on a scouting mission. As a shipwright Skafti is legendary for his skill, and he will be sorely missed, but the work is nearly finished and sacrifices must be made. Arrange a meeting with Manzur, and this meeting must include a close look at Manzur’s men and their equipment.

A few years ago you and I looked closely at how best to defend Greden, but since things change, we had better review this. Later we need to organize a system of surveillance, a system with enough reliability and duplication so the midnight attack is a truly remote possibility.

Finally, depending on what we find, we may have to leave Skafti behind to keep an eye on Hoskud and handle the odd emergency, also to train Manzur’s men.

Jon’s last remark, pulling Skafti off fur cartel patrol, had two components: first, Skafti was a truly able man and could handle emergencies; secondly, Jon wanted Manzur and Skafti to see more of each other and work together, a shakedown voyage for father and son-in-law.

Skafti responded quietly but unequivocally; If someone needs to stay and keep an eye on things it won’t be me – I will be sinking or swimming with our ballista. Dyri might be the man you need.

Skafti had great faith in Jon’s ability, and generally in his star, or luck. At the same time Jon, like other very focused men, didn’t pay enough attention to his own ‘back’; but then again, he didn’t need to – he had Skafti. If Jon was sailing into danger there was no possibility Skafti would not be there – and the ‘ballista’ enterprise stank of danger.

Gradually the conversation strayed away from ballistas, Hoskuds, and Manzurs and towards items of daily life such as Freda Stein and Vestein, tonight’s dog fight, and recent news of Mustapha and their old corps, which had recently been mauled by the Elyva but had survived. The question at the back of their minds being who amongst their old comrades had died; as of yet no specifics.

The Troll and Jon were at their ease and settling into ‘The Bear’ as though they planned on hibernating there; not so with Skafti, whose thoughts were with Elaine.

Skafti was thinking of excusing himself when four husky young Norse fellows entered the pub; they were probably with Hoskud. One of the four, a large powerful man, had a disfiguring scar across the left side of his face. In addition this man had a sullen manner about him, and Skafti, who had a nose for trouble, decided to wait awhile and watch.

Trouble, and What Came of It

Skafti figured Hoskud’s warrior was a nasty tempered man looking for any opportunity to assert himself or harm others.

Skafti might appear presumptuous in that the Troll was the largest man in the pub while Jon was by far the strongest; together surely they could handle whatever nastiness might arrive. Probably, but at the same time Skafti knew for a settled fact he was the quickest and deadliest man in or near the pub when it came to either axe or knife. Besides, there were three other men who would probably wind up backing whatever nonsense the Sullen One might start.

As Jon earlier observed, Skafti had a knack for being where he needed to be – and, despite a powerful Elainic pull, five minutes later Skafti was still on his bench making chit chat.

Then an upper crust young Islamic man entered the Bear and walked towards the tap. The intruder, more a boy than a man, was probably fifteen or sixteen. The Bear was a Norse bar, a custom further protected by the moslem rule against alcohol.

The kid was out of place, probably on a dare, and was exactly the pretext to draw the Sullen Ones interest and malice. There was a further complication – the kid was Manzur’s oldest son Riad, known for his toughness and daring.

The Troll and Riad knew each other while Skafti, though not acquainted with Riad, knew who he was. Jon was in the dark; all he saw was an unusually bold and foolish young moslem.

The Troll had also marked the Sullen One as trouble, and like Skafti saw the situation as fraught – he instantly moved to clarify things for Sullen.

Magnus, could you bring us an extra stein of beer for our friend.

Then, in lado to Riad, Riad, it’s good to see you. Please share our beer.

Riad knew and liked the Troll and was only too happy to get out of a sticky situation; he turned and headed over towards them.

As Riad turned toward the Troll things took a sudden and unexpected turn; Hoskud’s men suddenly drew knives and quickly moved to isolate Riad, who they evidently meant to kill.

Skafti had put his knife in easy reach as soon as Riad entered the room; he reacted instantly, leaped a bench, stabbed the nearest man, who he then threw against his fellow. Skafti then leaped between Sullen and Riad, parrying a knife thrust directed to Riad. Immediately after parrying the knife he drew his right elbow back with crushing force on Sullen’s jaw. Sullen was stunned, and before he could gather himself together Skafti slid his blade under Sullen’s sternum and a little to the left.

Jon, while not so quick off the mark as Skafti, had moved quick enough to grab the man nearest him who he picked up and flung against a bench; the unfortunate man’s head hit the bench and resulted in a broken neck.

Skafti turned to the man he had tripped with the body of his fellow and held out his hand; after a moment’s hesitation the fellow handed over his knife.

Skafti turned to a thoughtful Jon, What do you want me to do with this fellow?

Jon thought a few moments longer, then, turning to the man, The big fellow with the scar, who is he?

The man looked surprised, That’s not much of a secret; he’s Vebjorn, Hoskud’s brother.

Jon, still lost in thought, I see. You’ll want to take these men home to their families; do you have a cart?

The man, looking surprised and hopeful, I can get one.

Good.’, turning to Magnus, ‘do you have a place to put these bodies till they can be picked up?

Magnus, who knew Riad and Manzur, was unspeakably grateful Riad had not been killed and he was only too happy to be helpful. The three bodies were carried to a shed and the survivor left to locate a cart.

Later as they sat around the table the Troll turned to Riad, I’m guessing some Norse fellow dared you to enter the Bear and have a beer?

Riad, who had lost all his ‘bounce’ said, A fellow called Arnold; he certainly played me for a fool. Allah must have plans for me, else I wouldn’t have such undeserved good fortune. Thank you, and if ever I can return the favor let me know. Now, Ragi, introduce me to the men who have saved my life.

Later, after Riad discovered beer had a vile taste and that Allah had probably ruled against it out of mercy to his followers, Jon brought things around to business.

Riad, do you see what would have happened had these men succeeded?

No, not clearly.

Your father would have taken every man he has and crossed the Rel to avenge you. He would have wound up fighting at a place of Hoskud’s choosing and things probably wouldn’t have gone well. As it is his brother needs avenging and he’ll cross the Rel, very soon; what just happened will not be reported correctly to his followers and will provide a perfect excuse to crush such unbelievers and godless men as ourselves.

But, the real truth is otherwise; we, if we act quickly and well, can put this Hoskud business behind us. Since his brother was killed Hoskud will come in person, he won’t be sending lieutenants. A small band of archers placed on their side of the Rel should be able to kill Hoskud as he enters his boat – they won’t be careful on their side of the Rel. They are launching a ‘surprise’ attack on us, and their guard will go up when they set foot on our side of the Rel, not before.

Skafti interrupted, Jon, were I Hoskud I’d cross the Rel by night; night targets are usually a waste of arrows.

Jon smiled, Skafti, you take me too literally – we ambush him as he nears the Rel, in broad daylight. Remember, he’s on his side of the river and he’s the one doing the surprising. He’ll be riding along with nothing on his mind but his hair.

I have given us an extra day or so by having the surviving man taking his buddies back in a cart, but even so we must act quickly. My Norse will organize the ambush. You, Troll, must organize things here in case we fail or things head a new direction. If Hoskud’s army crosses the Rel and heads to Greden they will cross relatively open country and Manzur’s cavalry will have a clear advantage. If the Norse form a shield wall don’t go at it head-to-head, rather ambush and destroy their supply line. When they eventually break formation and continue their march then resume your cavalry harassment and escort. Meanwhile fortify Greden; if the Norse army ever arrives at Greden it’s bound to be smaller and hungrier than it started. Which reminds me; scavenge the country around Greden for food – get it all into Greden.

A Quiet Evening at Home

Katya heard the door open and looked up from her knitting; it was Hadi, and he looked pleased and excited.

Katya, who do you suppose I saw entering the Tipsy Bear this afternoon?!

Katya put her knitting aside and entered into the spirit of her brothers question; after a thoughtful pause and with a twinkle in her eye, she said, for a long time I’ve had my suspicions – was it Hassan?

Hassan was the local Iman, or holy man, and Hadi was briefly confused, then burst out laughing; I only wish! No, it was someone a lot closer to earth.

Do I know the person well?

Very.

Hadi, I’m ashamed of you! You really must stop visiting the Bear – all sorts of bad things might happen. And wipe the beer foam off your lip.

Hadi was a good boy and it would never cross his mind to visit the Bear – so of course the thought tickled him, and he burst out laughing.

No, not me. But you are getting closer.

Then she saw it; visiting the Bear was exactly the sort of thing Riad would do! Suddenly things were much less amusing.

Hadi, did Riad enter the Bear?

He certainly did.

Is he OK?

I think so; he was in there a long time. When he came out he was with those two northmen you like, Jon, the viking leader, and his tall lean friend. They all looked pretty serious – especially Riad.

What happened?

I left as quickly and as quietly as I could – Riad doesn’t like me tailing him. But Katya, I think something important happened.

Why would you think that?

Well, everyone acted as though something important had happened – and a little later I saw Magnus and several other men carry three bodies out the back door and put them in a shed. These bodies were carried like they were a load of straw, like they were dead men. Katya, I’m sure something big happened. Riad likes you, so you talk to him – then tell me!

OK, Hadi. I’m on it. It does sound as though something happened; Riad has never met either of the northmen before, and in a general way seems to resent the Norse.

Hadi brightened; That’s exactly what I thought, Katya! Only yesterday he was saying most of them should have their axes stuffed up their asses and then thrown out of town – he made an exception for Ragi and Norse fur traders.

Katya made clucking, disapproving noises, Hadi, watch your tongue! You are falling into bad habits; don’t talk like a guttersnipe!

Katya knew Riad would be along sooner than later – she had information he would be wanting, urgently wanting. Sure enough, the next day mid-afternoon who should appear but the younger sib.

Katya, where is Sarah?

She is in a safe place.

What does that mean?

Do you remember our conversation a week ago?

Yes, I explained how I was trying to convert Sarah away from christianity to the true faith; this is still my goal.

Riad, I have no doubt you wish to convert her – to motherhood.

Come on Kat, quit acting like an old maid aunt.

Katya looked thoughtful, Perhaps you are right – and perhaps I’ll help you. But first tell me about your adventure in the Tipsy Bear. Have you softened up on the Norse?

An odd look came over Riad’s face - surprise? indecision? confusion? – and for a moment he fell silent.

"Kat, a Norseman dared me to go into the Bear, and, like a fool, I couldn’t say ‘no’. When I entered the Bear four waiting Norsemen pulled knives and moved to kill me. Ragi was there with two friends and they rescued me. The taller thinner friend is like a djinn; in the blink of