The villages had operated the post to capture trade with the merchant ships of the northern sea. There were dangerous storms in the open waters of that sea, the sailors said wind and rain would come upon them with barely time to pull down their sail, so most ships passed through the narrow sea-lane between the islands and along the peninsula to seek a bit of protection. That brought them near to the mouth of the Sliefe Fjord where most fishermen, traders, as well as some wild Vikings, found it attractive to stop at the post and conduct some business. It seemed to be enough to keep them from burning the place down; at least for the year I was there.
My own standing at Cyphus had risen during the summer. I had a habit of walking the beach with Loboc whenever I had an opportunity. The land near the sea was all dunes and moraines with a few scrubby trees, but the currents and winds of the upper fjord collected driftwood and downed trees on the beach between the post and the mouth of the fjord. Loboc and I would walk along the sand and I would try to imagine the storms and winds that had toppled such giants.
I sent word to Penda, a woodsman from the Nehdun forests, about my beach of trees. He came down river in late spring, after the floods, to see them for himself. There were several straight-grain cedars and large pine trunks there at that time. He and his son Sighard cut them into manageable logs and towed them to villages far down the fjord. Logs that would rot worthless in the forest, too large to move, were worth a good deal when sitting a few feet from the town green. Penda was fortunate to have come when he did. Trees would arrive at the beach like visitors. They would stay awhile then leave when the wind changed or the tide was right. Penda asked me to look out for good trees and straight trunks and to tie them down so they would not float away.
Audovert grumbled at me for being away from the trading post, or as he put it, “mooning about not tending to my chores.” One day three fishing boats were tied up at the dock while Penda was working on a particularly big tree. They marveled at how fast Sighard could debark and split long oak planks using the metal wedges the blacksmiths had made. They convinced Penda to trim some trees into masts and spars and set them aside as spares in case of need. A month later one of the boats returned. It was in bad shape, with its sails hanging in shreds, but even so, it was better than others in the fleet. Two of them had lost their rigging in a storm three days before and had to row onto a rocky shore. The fisherman bought new masts and rope for repairs. Suddenly, the trimmed-up logs became Audovert’s most valuable wares.
Audovert was a lot nicer to me after that. He even offered to help secure some of the bigger trees when Loboc and I could not get them properly on shore. One day, after there were a few more sales, Audovert was in an expansive mood and promised me the choice of any three pelts on the trading floor. I was very proud to be recognized for something that I had done myself, but I did not make my choice right away. I wanted to await the return of the Gray Gosling as Alric might carry even better pelts from the Northlands.
Alric and Bertram had taken the Gray Gosling north to trade for iron blooms and furs. Now it was late in the season and I was afraid that a storm might have left them stranded on some bleak shore where they would be trapped by ice. I had no fear that they would be lost at sea, though it is a dangerous place, but they could be gone for the winter. Alric and Bertram were small, scrawny men, but surprisingly strong and the best of seamen, and besides, they were two of my favorite people. Still, it was important that they get home for the winter. Our villages’ prosperity depended a lot on the ironwork that was produced over the winter months. Nehdun blacksmiths made nails, hinges, hooks and needles, as these were most profitable and did not require so much iron, but all was still dependent on a trading ship bringing raw metal from the far reaches of the sea.
I was woken early the next morning when Loboc jumped on top of me. He had been my great friend and protector ever since I was a small girl. He was still bigger than I, so he was not to be ignored, and he knew that the Gray Gosling was entering the fjord on the morning tide. I put my shoes on, wrapped myself in my blanket, and ran to the top of the landing. Alric and Bertram were standing in the bow of the knorr waving and laughing, and I waved and laughed back at them. Behind Alric and Bertram, rowing madly, were two immense clods of red hair, each atop a broad back. Whoever they were, they had not been with the crew when the Gosling left us.
The ship’s bow dug into the pebbles as Alric jumped into the water and ran up the embankment. We met with a great hug with Loboc jumping up to join us. After almost knocking us over, he stepped back, growling. I looked up and let out a yelp myself, as two massive angry bodies closed on me each with a shield and battle sword. They stared at me as if they would pin me to the trading post wall when Alric, still laughing, waved his arms and began babbling about how I was like his sister, as if that was pertinent to the moment. The two giant girls, for girls they were, obviously did not speak our language very well. Bertram came over and started talking about sisters as well. One of the girls seemed to get the idea, and explained it to the other. A miraculous change occurred within a moment as they both broke out in big smiles and happy eyes, dropped their swords and picked me up in more great hugs. They were all hugging and laughing, which gave me a chance to catch my breath, back away, and take in the strange scene.
Alric and Bertram looked so much alike that they could be brothers. They are small fellows with thin faces and shocks of red-brown hair that grew mostly straight up from the top of their heads. They keep it that way by periodically hacking off hunks with their knives. The girls were nearly twice their size. Big legs, wide bodies, strong-arms, all covered in delicate pink skin complete with freckles. Masses of red hair surrounded round jolly faces, for indeed both girls were good-natured and as easy as any I have known. It is clear that the red girls, as they were known, had adopted Alric and Bertram and intended to protect them from any danger and all women, save sisterly ones.
Bertram walked with a rolling gait into the post, sat down to steady himself, and told how they met the girls in a far northern village. The Gosling, he said, had been brought to shore in the evening as they did for most nights. They were near a seaside town, which could be a danger, but this one appeared to be deserted. The nine crewmen were busy securing the boat while the two stepped away to look around. Suddenly, a mass of wild women came running from the stunted trees above the beach armed with long swords, spears, and shields. Alric said that they were so frightened and stunned by the spectacle that they could do nothing but stand there and look pathetic. As the wild women got closer, they could see that the unarmed little men were no threat. Hilde and Gunhild stepped forward, picked up a man each, carried them to the council hall, provided beer and food, and took to the sad things as if the were wet kittens in a storm. Of course everyone loves wet kittens, so when the Gray Gosling set sail, the red girls sailed as well. So, after several adventures and much rowing, the red girls came all the way to our fjord, and were destined to travel a great distance beyond that.
I told Alric about Audovert’s promise of three pelts. He clapped his hands, and went digging into a bundle that was well wrapped in sealskin. He pulled out three sable pelts of the choicest glossy brown fur I had ever seen. They were not very large, but clearly the finest anyone would have. I stayed up all night with Hilde, who knew how best to handle the furs, and sewed them on to my green robe as a wide collar and matching cuffs. I felt so fine. Now I would be noticed for myself and no longer as one of the herd of unmarried girls that hung around the fringe of village life.
It was fall, going on winter. Leaves had fallen from the trees, all except for the pin oaks that would hold tight to their dry brown leaves until the dawn of spring. The skies were gray, as they had been for many days, typical for that time of year and the wind was picking up. Even so, there was a haze over the fjord and the hills on the far side were just a darker field of gray. It was the end of my unwanted summer at Cyphus, our gloomy trading post, and I so looked forward to my return to the village for the winte
r.
I had nothing to do on the boat, as the crew was well used to sailing, so I once again sat high on the bow as the ship made its way back to Lindisport. When we turned into Black Creek, I felt the wind take on a chill and so I had to put on my green robe. Word spread up the river faster than the Gray Gosling could travel and a crowd had gathered on the dock to see us arrive. I was so excited that I had to stand at the front of the ship, my green cape blowing around me, but as I saw no one that I knew well, I did not wave or make a spectacle of myself.
Penda had already passed through the village and told stories of my success in capturing the great tree falls, and the profits he had made from the beached logs. Of course, the unmarried girls of Lindisport had heard all of this gossip and of my fine sable collar and cuffs, so even before the Gray Gosling touched the pier, they were displeased. They would have made it a difficult time for me, but I only really cared for the favor of my best and faithful friend Mildryth. It would have been a trial to win some place in their society, but I was not to stay with Alaric in Lindisport. My mother had sent word for me to return home. I rather enjoyed my singularity during that time, which only made those other girls more jealous I fear, oh well.
Chapter 11 Abduction - Earth
It had been a clear sunny day, not so very cold, almost warm in the sun, though a light wind had picked up when evening came on. I had an hour before the cows needed tending, so I went walking with Livida, my father’s long-legged hound. I loved to watch her run the low hills between our farm and the edge of Feldland. With her long, graceful strides, she whisked through the tall grass and jumped the fallen trees with amazing ease. I felt for her, as she did not get much fond attention since he died. I was following far behind when I come onto an open ridge where I could see Dagobert standing on top of a cleared rise pointing to the sky. He seemed to be excited about something, so I called to Livida and we ran together to see what was happening. Several others were there by the time we arrived, all looking into the high blue sky. Dagobert was my brother’s best friend even though he was five years older. He had seen something flashing in the sun, very high up, even above the cloud wisps. It seemed to be moving slowly in a large circle. The thing would disappear as we watched, then flash brightly in the late sunlight. It flew in lazy circles like a vulture seeking carrion. I was about to leave, as Livida was getting nervous, but it seemed to have come closer, so I stayed. Oswald thought it was a white eagle, but it looked to be silver rather than white and was much too big. I wondered how low it would come.
I sat down in the dry grass and hugged Livida, she smelled of earthy must, and tried to avoid her tongue as much as I could. She became excited whenever I got down to her level; she seemed to enjoy it so. The craft, as it turned out to be, took a long time descending for it was searching our lands seeking an open landing place. The giant ship was whisper quiet as it flew overhead time and again, coming ever lower. We were in awe to see how truly immense it was. On its final circle, the craft disappeared out of sight behind the western hills. Dagobert and some other boys ran off to follow it, but before they went far, it had returned and came directly over our heads. It was now emitting a continuous and deafening roar, even the air seemed to shake. It was going tremendously fast and came very near, just over out heads. It was heading toward that long grain field next to the woods.
The lander kicked up a huge cloud of dust when it passed over the recently harvested land, and left deep scars in the dirt where it touched down. We ran as fast as we could and watched it still moving, but slowly, at the far end of the field, all the time with a loud roar and a mantle of dust billowing behind. When it reached the end of the flat ground, it turned to face us and came to a stop. The noise ended completely. Livida and two smaller dogs were capering about just in front of us. We stood in awe of the huge, strange thing that lay before us. It stood partway across the stubbled field. It was bigger than any built thing we had seen, someone could probably walk underneath its outstretched wing if they dared to get that close, but no one did, not at first.
I climbed the nearest hillock to get a good look at it. The setting sun gave the gleaming skin an orange and golden glow. People continued to arrive to stare at the shiny thing all through the evening. They stood scattered around the surrounding hills, watching. Some thought it was creature of the gods, but our gods were of the forest and nothing like this. It might be a war machine like the old Romans were said to have, no one knew. After its loud, spectacular landing, the ship now sat silent and motionless. Gunthar thought it had died, but you could see waves of heat coming off its wings, though it did not move again or make any more sounds.
It sat so for several days. Some of the wilder boys ran toward the ship and threw rocks at it, but they bounced of with a clunk. They proudly claimed success, but their strongest blows could not harm its skin, which was very hard and smooth. Old Murtha, who was once our finest blacksmith, thought it must be made of silver like an old goblet he once owned, hard, very thin, and shiny. We all agreed it must be thin and light in order to fly as it did.
The great ship stayed motionless day after day without change. Interest in it slowly wore away to complaints that it was sitting in the middle of an otherwise good grain field and what to do if it was still there for the spring planting. Dagobert was always bringing home kits or cygnets or some old sword he had found. He kept Gunthar in thrall, so it was no surprise that he and Gunthar became the most dedicated watchers. The boys spent hours sitting under a tree keeping a lookout over the ship. Even they gave up for a while, when the weather changed and it became cold and rainy, but it eventually cleared and they went back.
One day at dinner, the boys began talking about some bird-like things had flown out of the ship, very fast, and disappeared into the trees. They ran after them, but couldn’t find where they went. They thought they saw something flash very high in the sky, but if that was so, it never landed or even came close enough to see clearly, Gunthar said that it had move, but Dagobert would not agree. When nights were upon us and with the hearth fires lit, the spacecraft was the main topic of speculation. Some of the neighbor men came around in the evenings; no one knew anything, of course, about why it came, what it was, or what it would do. For once there were no stories of past valor that presaged this event, no sagas, only the legend of the raven, the dark chooser of fates. It was certain, though not spoken, that we could do little to stop the machine from doing what it wished or even to make it go away. Many boasts were made and schemes hatched, but we did nothing.
Much had happened on our farm since I left. With father dead, mother had traded father’s beloved draft horses for four dairy cows and a promise to supply their former owners with fresh milk. Our fields had been sown with grass and we were now a dairy farm. Mother was optimistic that next year would bring her good fortune and more cows. She was a better at running the farm than raising children, I must say. To us, Gunthar and I, she had been a hard, uncaring presence. We had fended for ourselves most times, and looked to our father for hugs and support, though I should not say it.
After a while, the flying machines began to show up around the village and our farm. Round things, shoe sized, they flew about and quietly landed high in the trees. They just sat there as if they were watching us. Hogarth shot one off a branch with his bow. It was like a smooth ball and had two rings of squared-off blades that spun around and enabled it to fly, and a shiny round indentation that might be some type of eye. It was so hard and strong that he could not pry it open to find out what was inside.
Early one morning, not long afterward, Gunthar and Dagobert came running into our cottage excited and out of breath. Swarms of flyers were streaming out of the lander, traveling in wavering streams to the north and south, following the Nehdun-Lindisport road perhaps. These were smaller than the others, the ones that sat in trees, and there were so many they could not count. Very fast, Gunthar said, no way to catch them. They would be in the other villages before anyone could get there, even on Thorhu
nd, the fastest horse in the valley, but maybe someone should go see if anything bad had happened. Wolfhere was on his way to Nehdun to buy a horse and talked of following the flyers. I do not know if he ever returned.
In the following days, larger things came out of the lander. Heavy, they left deep wheel tracks in the dirt, like wagons that moved across the field and into the trees of the north forest. No one saw them leave, perhaps they came out during the night. By noon, Hogarth had gathered some men to track them down and kill them off before they could cause any trouble. I worried about that landing craft. It was interesting and a great topic of excitement as it sat in the browned out sward, but there was a menace in its latest activity. The giant thing had come here for some reason and I was beginning to think we might not like it.
The ObLaDas found that most of the fertile planet was populated by rather large two-legged beings, a clearly intelligent species that was on the verge of technologic advancement, or so they thought. Many other species, some quite social, lived there, but no others used tools or weapons. The lead species still survived within their own means and did not employ any power sources beyond a few domesticated animals and some water flow. The probe surveyed several areas of the planet for a population suitable for capture, a sufficiency of people, organized, developed, but relatively isolated. There were many such places, so it was and act of fortune that they landed in the midst of those three isolated Saxon villages. It was, however, a fortuitous choice for the ObLaDas. The villages had a much wider genetic diversity than most isolated tribes of that time. Diversity was key for the survival of a small population over many generations, so they would be a good breeding stock.
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