Shannon in Norway: Rory and Shannon

Rory stood in the dooryard of his and Ceridwen's small farmhouse. He held a crude rake with its handle in both hands and his hands pressed against his chest, leaning on the tool. His eyes were closed. He was breathing in the farm smells, pungent, aromatic, dry.. all of them. He was listening to the sounds of the birds, the light wind in the tree branches, the sound of Ceridwen moving about and scraping with her trowel in the soil of the small garden not far from where he stood. His heart was singing. He was happy, truly happy. If it weren't for that one painful spot in his soul he knew he would be perfectly happy.

He heard the soft footsteps as Ceri came up to his side and laid a gentle hand on his arm. He opened his eyes and turned a soft sweet smile into hers. Her look was tender.

"What are you dreaming about, my love?" she asked him.

"This. Ye. Everything," he answered quietly.

"I saw a little frown sneak in as I came up to you. Shannon?" Her eyes were full of concern.

Rory nodded his head. "That shall e'er be with me, darlin'. It shall grow smaller and smaller with time. 'Tis hard to dismiss the pain of how he died."

Ceri put her arms around him and held him.

"This life with ye, macushla.. I couldnae have dreamed such joy. Everyday I thank God for ye and our life. Och, I ken that I tell ye this o'er and o'er, but 'tis such a wonder.." He leaned to kiss her lightly on her lips as she gazed up at him.

"I do love you so, Rory," Ceri replied. "'Tis true for me as well.. I had thought to live a peaceful life alone. That you of all men should be here, to love me, and to love my life, is almost too sweet to bear. Oftimes I stop and say to myself, 'Rory! Rory McGuinness loves me!'"

He flashed his sunlit smile into her face. "Och, and that he does, Ceri. That he does."

With another kiss, they separated to go on with their day's work. It was late in the afternoon, the August sun hot on their backs, the aromas sharpening with the heat on the soil.

Rory let himself into the chicken yard and began to rake it. The birds clucked and scattered from his feet and the rake. He dragged the tines across the piles of dung to make a small pile to carry away.

He began to sing. Ceri smiled. If she thought her life was perfect a moment ago, she knew that it was now. Rory in her life was wonderful.. but that voice, that sweetness, and knowing what happiness it expressed. His own contentment meant even more to her than her own.

The song was one she had heard before. She thought she was beginning to understand some of the Irish he spoke. This song seemed to be about a bird. She heard "Tá sé ag canadh." She knew that meant "He is singing." The song went on, with a short lilting chorus. She let the sound waft over her and sink into her skin like the sun's rays themselves.

Of a sudden she thought she heard an echo of his voice.. distorted, as if he was singing when he was tired and his throat was rough. He did not appear to hear anything, but she stood from where she had been stooping to pull tiny weeds from between the beans and put her hands on the small of her back to stretch. And she heard it again.

"Rory?" she called to him.

He stopped singing and looked over at her. "Aye, me love?" But then he heard it too… he frowned, looked around, then glanced back at her questioningly.

It was at this point they both heard the slow, soft hoof beats of a horse.. not loud, just noticeable now that Rory was quiet. They looked in the direction of the road that came up to the dooryard. Around one of the small sheds a horse came into view, unhurried. It's rider was a woman with pale plaited hair and a shy smile. She was dressed oddly. They could both see someone was behind her with his arms around her waist. The singing was coming from there.

Ceri from her angle saw him first. Her mouth fell open. "It cannot be!" she breathed.

The man then leaned from where he sat astride the horse so h e could look around the woman at Rory. He was grinning lopsidedly even while still finishing the song. Then he said, "Rory, me darlin' friend."

Rory stood frozen. He could neither move nor speak.

"Well, now, I should be after thinkin' ye would be more pleased to see me," Shannon O'Neill said laughingly.

It was Ceri's cry, "Shannon!" that brought him around. Rory dropped the rake, then looked anxiously at where it lay to make sure it did not hurt one of the birds. Then he almost tripped over his own long legs to rush to the gate and let himself out of the pen. Ceri likewise was rushing forward.

Rory's eyes were filled with tears as he came to the horse and reached to grasp Shannon's hand. He blurted out a string of words in Irish. Ceri was beside him now, glancing and returning the smile of the woman who sat in front of O'Neill. She noticed first that his left foot was wrapped in cloths and that he had a crutch across the horse's back between himself and the woman. Rory had his right hand in his own two, kneading and stroking it.

To the woman he had ridden in with Shannon said something in a language Ceri did not know but could tell was not Irish. She turned smiling blue eyes to him and nodded. She swung her leg over the horse's neck and slid down, Rory catching her at the last moment to soften her landing in the dooryard. She turned to take Shannon's crutch, which Rory registered consciously for the first time.

"Dinnae just stand there like the great oaf ye are, McGuinness. Help me down off this beast."

The woman reached to help Shannon dismount, but Rory had him under the armpits as he slid down. Something instinctual made Rory support his friend carefully as he helped him get his footing on the ground. When Shannon was steady, Rory did not take his hands away but instead put his arms around Shannon and held him tight. As Shannon wrapped his own arms around Rory Ceri saw the missing fingers on his right hand. It struck her then how bad he looked, how tired, how weak, how damaged.

"Shannon, Shannon, I ne'er thought to see ye again. Saints be praised, how can ye be here. How can this happen?" Rory was sobbing into Shannon's embrace.

Shannon was weeping now too. He seemed to be murmuring comforting words, as if to a sad child.

Ceri put out her hands to take the woman's as the two men held each other. "Well met, good woman. I am Ceridwen. Rory's wife."

The woman took her hands and said with some effort in strangely accented English, "Vell met , Ceridven, I am Falni, the vife of Drivvid.. Shannon," she corrected herself..

Rory's head went up and he turned his tear stained face to Falni and then looked down into the much shorter mans twinkling eyes. "Did she say wife?"

Shannon smiled and nodded. Rory let him go and gazed at Falni in wonder. Then he took her in his arms and hugged her. "Och, Falni, I am that glad to meet ye."

Shannon looked at Ceridwen. "God be with ye, Ceridwen.. and so I am hearin' ye somehow stole this over large fellow from the Queen then?"

Ceri laughed and she and Shannon embraced. Shannon had a warm and tender embrace that spoke of his great affection for his friend and anyone who made that man happy.

It was as the four started towards the table in the dooryard that Rory noticed Shannon's injuries. He was limping on the left foot, using the crutch to aid his balance, and he was missing fingers on his right hand. Falni was solicitous of him as if accustomed to being part of how he moved in the world.

"Shannon, what happened to you?" Rory now asked with deep concern.

The mischievous grin covered Shannon's self consciousness. "Sea serpent," he answered, repeating a jest he had startled the royal children with the day before.

"Och, well that hasnae changed, ye are yet a buffoon," Rory laughed, and Shannon relaxed.

Throughout the meal that Rory and Ceri put together for their guests Rory could not take his eyes away from his friend. He could tell that Shannon was reluctant to go into the details of his disappearance, but instead he asked questions about Rory and Ceri's marriage, frequently translating for Falni in what they knew now was Norse. He himself had a look of wonder at the occurrence.

"Rory, forgive me, but last I saw ye the Queen had your heart in chains," Shannon led.

Rory took Ceri's hand and they smiled at each other. Then he explained, "Why, ye yourself came to me in a dream and told me not to let that delusion rule me.. and then this dream of a woman let me kiss her 'neath the Maypole."

Shannon responded, "Maypole? Bealtana? Ye dinnae grieve long, now did ye?"

Rory shut his eyes. "Aye, I did. Let us not speak of that, please."

Shannon looked stricken. He took Rory's hand. "Och, ma croidhe. It took me long to gain me memories back, but the most painful was the knowin' that I broke your heart." His voice was thick with emotion. Falni moved closer to him and put her arm around his shoulders.

Rory's eyes opened and he tried to smile. "Ye are here now, and that will heal between us." He squeezed Shannon's injured hand. "Sham, your fingers," he began. "Can ye play the lute?"

Shannon cast a grin at Falni who took the cue. She said, "Me Drivvid is the best lute player in the vorld!"

Ceri leapt up and went into the cottage. She came back out with Rory's lute and brought it over to offer to Shannon. The man looked at the instrument with some hesitation, then shrugged and took it. "Shall we find out then?" He started to take the neck in his left hand but shook his head, and reversed the instrument so his two fingers and thumb remaining on his left hand were poised over the sound hole. His right hand tentatively picked out where to press on the strings at the neck. He tried a chord.. and it sounded true. He turned a brilliant smile on the other three people. Falni's face was radiant.

By the time the light had faded in the sky and Ceri had made the two visitors a bed in the barn, what news and tales that could be spoken had been.

Lying in Shannon's arms, Falni asked in Norse, "Drivvid, can you rest now knowing Rory knows you are alive?"

He kissed her hair. "Aye, grand so. It shall take some getting used to, and for others to get used to me again, so changed. But now I feel that I am as whole as I can e'er be."

He looked and saw the anxiety in her face. "Falni, I beg you to believe me. You are my life now. We will be together no matter what else passes. I would follow you to the edge of Midgard."

"Or just to Norway and back?" She reached up to stroke his cheek.

He held her tightly. "Aye, my love, anywhere… and everywhere. " And he started to sing to her of his love.

In the cottage Rory lay on his back in bed in the loft, as Ceri lay on her side bect to him with her head propped on her hand. She murmured. "She saved his life."

Rory put up a hand to stroke her shoulder. "As ye did mine." She leaned and kissed him.

Next: Some stray Rory and Ceri stories

Shannon in Norway: Shannon Returns to Lawrencium

Shannon and Ranigg stood at the prow of Sif's Pride and looked out at the land to the west. They could see the passage to the River Humber, a wide estuary, and on the left the bluffs of Christenlande.

"Where is the town?" Ranigg asked in Norse.

"You cannot see the town yet, but do you see the large structure, much like a Roman fort, there, just within the estuary?" Shannon replied in the same language, but not knowing the Norse word for "Roman" he substituted the English word.

Ranigg shaded his eyes with his hand, peered left and right, and then nodded. "Ja, I see it. That is where we are bound?"

Shannon glanced back to the steering board where Falni sat guiding the fishing boat. "If Falni will go there. I am thinking she is trying to postpone our arrival."

"She is afraid," her brother replied.

Shannon could have asked, "Of what?" but he knew she was afraid of several things. She was afraid of losing her illusions about the land she had gotten just close enough to dream about in the past. She was afraid how the people of that land would regard her and her brother and crew. And most of all, she was afraid of losing Drivvid, her name for the Irishman she had fallen in love with.

When he had finally regained all his memory after the Dane, Erik Erikssen, had sailed into Jarlsfjord, the last returning memory, that of his devoted friend Rory had swept over the man like a black cloud. He had recalled how they had parted, with Shannon so bitter, and realized the pain he had caused his faithful companion. Falni in her love and compassion had promised to take him home to see his friend.

What would happen after that, she wondered, as she tacked back and forth, reluctant to make land now that she could see it. Would he forget all about her? Would the wife who had abandoned him make a new claim on his heart? She had his children after all, and Falni knew how strong a bond like that was. Or would he keep her with him and expect her to leave her seaward life? Or as she most fondly wish, would he stay with her, come back to Jarlsfjord to be her mate, in life and on the sea?

If she had asked her dear Drivvid, the Norse word for "driftwood" -- she and Ranigg had fished him from the sea after a dream she had had of reaching for such a bit of flotsam - he could not have told her. The very same questions were in his mind but he did not know what would happen when he was ashore. His own thoughts whirled about whether Rory would even be there, or if he had gone home to Ireland. He worried what those who cared about him here would feel about what he had done to them, running off to kill himself like that. And he worried how they would regard him now, with the damage the cold water of the North Sea had done to his body - missing fingers, part of one foot gone, his breathing difficult and his virility gone. He knew he would be barely recognizable as the spirited, even madcap, minstrel he had been before. He comforted himself with the knowledge that he always had a place with Falni. He at least had that comfort, if she did not.

"How are you, love?" came Drivvid's voice beside Falni. She had been adrift in her mind, looking starboard out to the sea and longing to turn the prow north and back to Norway.

He put his hand on her tanned cheek and smiled. She fought to smile back. "Terrified," she answered candidly.

"I know.. and I wanted to tell you… I will never leave you, Falni. I love you. We will find a way to make our lives together, I promise."

A small sob escaped from the woman's throat. "Oh Drivvid, I have been so afraid this land and your people will draw you away from me. That would break my heart, and I have begged Freya to keep you by me."

Shannon put his arm around her shoulders where she sat with her right arm over the steering board, just a stout oar that extended into the water from starboard of the stern - in fact the word "starboard" comes from the steering board of ships and boats like Sif's Pride.

"What will your people think of me?" she worried.

"They will love you, just as I do. Now let's practice some of those English words I taught you." Shannon stiffly lowered himself with his crutch to sit on the deck next to her with his back to the railing. She smiled at him ruefully but followed his lead practicing simple words and phrases of greeting.

"And do not forget this," Shannon grinned. In English he said, "Shannon O'Neill is the greatest lute player in the world."

"You mean," she replied, and followed in English, "My Drivvid is the greatest lute player in the world."

Ranigg directed the crew in taking down the one triangular sail and putting the oars in place to row towards land. Falni spotted a good place to beach the boat and called for the rowers to speed towards it, then lift their oars in time for the boat to propel itself onto the land. Several crew members with Ranigg leapt off the boat to secure it to a stout tree.

People were gathering, the men and women who lived near the harbor of Lawrencium and those who lived close enough to see the Norse ship coming in. The infamous raids of the Danes were still a decade and more away so that fact and the familiarity with the peaceful Erik the Dane made the people curious rather than wary. This was also a fishing boat with no fearsome animal heads on the prow. What it meant to Christenlandians was trade, not a raid.

An odd murmur came from the gathering crowd as the Irishman accepted Ranigg's and Falni's help to disembark. One man called out, "God in heaven, is that O'Neill?!" Wondering comments made way for astounded cries and several people rushed up to the three as they came up the shore.

"Shannon, Shannon O'Neill!" one man said as he reached him. 'We thought you were dead, drowned in the sea."

At Shannon's side Ranigg was grinning and Falni was pale. Aye, that "I did, Aelfgifu. But so I recovered.. or rather, these good people from Norway recovered me."

"Norway? Is that where you have been? You look terrible," said a woman.

Before he could answer, another woman called out, "Rory is married! He married our Ceridwen! They live on her farm!"

That stopped Shannon where he stood. Falni saw the astounded look on his face and asked what had been said. He answered her in Norse. Then to the woman who had given him the news, he said, "Och, and I see the man was after findin' some distraction so as not to mourn me!" The group of greeters laughed.

Shannon looked up the steep road to the castle balefully but just turned to his companions and said, "I suppose we should get the climb over with."

But before he could even take a step, several of the men in the crowd picked him up and perched him on their shoulders. He laughed, struggled to keep his balance, then called out, "Dinnae leave me wife and her brother behind, me friends!"

The word "wife" made its round of the men and women, then a group of the latter surrounded Falni and took her arms to welcome her.. and Ranigg, ever the affable fellow, just joined in with the procession.

Shannon grinned and pointed up with his crutch. "To the castle then!" He leaned to one of the men.. "So Rory is not at the castle then?"

"Nay, Shannon, he lives in a village west of the town. But his wife is Ceridwen, the master metalsmith's niece, a hood Briton lass, so they come to see her family.. and to themselves at the castle as well."

Shannon smiled to himself. "Ceridwen," he thought, "just as I should have prayed were I after e'er prayin'."

The castle, really a refurbished Roman fort made of timbers and old stones, was high up on a bluff, but some of the crowd's noise reached the sea facing windows in the keep. In his work chamber the chancellor happened to walk by one of the unglazed windows and looked out. By that time the procession was coming up the steep hairpinning road to the top of the bluff, so he could see nothing. He could tell however that the people were exuberant and that they were coming up to the gates, so he put down the parchment he was reading and went to the door. He called to a servant, "What is the news? What is the exultation from the shore?"

The man left to learn what had passed. Lorin stayed in the passageway, then walked around the hall's corner to find the King and Queen standing there. 'What is it?" the King inquired.

"I know not, my lord," Lorin said, "but I have sent a man to find out." In one motion the three headed for the stairway down to the main entry for the keep.

"It certainly sounds like the news is good.. " Josephine observed.

As they proceeded down the stairs, the man the Duke had sent came running in. "My lords and lady, 'tis Shannon O'Neill! He is not dead after all!"

The King blurted, "What? Shannon?" He took his wife's arm more firmly as they rushed down to the entry and out into the courtyard.

Through the gate of the castle they saw a procession that had grown as it came up the hill. Rather than challenging the people, the gatekeepers were cheering.. Shannon had always been a great favorite with the men who guarded entry to the castle. At the front of the procession they saw the familiar form hoisted on shoulders, the mop of red hair, the animated motions.. And the crutch.

Lawrence and Josephine exchanged awestruck glances. Lorin just smiled joyfully. He sent a servant to alert his wife and the royal children.

The procession advanced, some of the soldiers in the castle tensing as it approached the royal couple, but nothing, not even hands a-ready on swords, could have stopped them from bearing their precious cargo forward. The men carrying the Irishman carefully lowered him to the ground. The women in charge of Falni pushed her forward to stand by her husband.

The King stared wordlessly at the man returned from the dead. The Queen however rushed forward to embrace him, while all around Shannon and Falni people dipped their knees and bowed their heads in respect to the royal family in front of them. Falni caught this and as Ranigg joined, standing behind her, she looked to Shannon to guide her. But he was just embracing the Queen and laughing.

"Oh Shannon," the Queen cried. "God be praised! We ne'er thought to see you again." She stood back and said the first thing in her mind, "Rory is married, Shannon! He is married!" Her look was jubilant.

"So I hear, the rascal. To Ceridwen, the master metalsmith's niece, a fair lass indeed. I turn me back for a minute, and he goes and does a thing like that, by all the saints." And you rejoice, my lady? He said in a quiet voice.

Josephine smiled broadly and nodded. "Oh, aye.. I do."

The King found his tongue. "How, where, what happened?"

Shannon bowed his head slightly to Lawrence, "That is a tale I shall enjoy tellin' ye all soon enough. But first, I must ask a question." He leaned towards the King and whispered. "Heather, she truly is no longer me wife?"

Lawrence replied in a regretful voice, "Aye, 'tis true," then saw Shannon's face unaccountably light up with a smile.

He turned to the fair haired Norse woman at his side and took her hand. He presented her to the Queen first, "Me lady, this is me beloved wife Falni Jarlsdottir. " Then in Norse he said to Falni, "This is the Queen."

Falni glanced nervously at him, but when she looked back at Josephine she saw the joy on the Queen's face and smiled gratefully. "Well met, me lady," and she curtsied. Her accent had been a thick mix of Norse and her teacher Shannon's brogue.

Josephine did not hesitate but pulled Falni to her feet and embraced her. "Welcome, dear Falni. Welcome now and forever."

It was the Queen who then introduced the King. "Falni Jarlsdottir, this is my lord Lawrence, King of this land,"

Falni curtsied again, listening to Shannon's unnecessary translation. Lawrence lifted her from her curtsy and leaned to kiss each of her cheeks in turn. "Something tells me we have you to thank for our beloved friend's return, beautiful lady."

Falni smiled and blushed at the translation Shannon offered, beaming.

With this the crowd that had gathered cheered. The King called for food and drink for all, receiving an even greater cheer, and he, his wife and Lorin, now joined by Larisa, turned to lead Shannon, Falni, and at Shannon's invitation Ranigg, into the keep. On the stairs they met Peter, Caithness, Elaine and Tavish, along with a nursemaid who carried Donalbain, the children all smiling joyfully and the twins jumping up and down at the sight of their friend, each of them crying, "Rory's married!"

As they entered the Great Hall to celebrate Josephine leaned to Shannon. "You must go to Rory as soon as you can.. his happiness will be complete to see you.. and to meet Falni. This is a time of great joy!"

Shannon nodded. "And I see there shall be more joy soon, me lady," nodding to her pregnant belly.

She just smiled.

Next: Rory and Shannon

Shannon in Norway: Shannon Again

Falni hung back as Erik and Clancy climbed off the ship and rushed over to Drivvid.. she had to remind herself, this was “Shannon”, not “Drivvid”. Shannon was so intent on greeting his friends he did not notice that she pulled away from where they had stood together.

The blonde boy with exactly the nose Shannon had were his not broken tore up to him and stopped short just feet away. The Dane strolled up and observed what Clancy did but was less shocked.

“Shan,” the boy cried, looking at Shannon’s hand and foot and the staff. “What happened to ye?”

Shannon lifted his hand with only three digits and looked at it. “Sea serpent bit them right off then” he jested.

This was all in a language Falni did not understand but she guessed he had made a jest from the boy’s horrified look and Erik’s twinkling eyes.

She watched as the conversation went on. She heard her and her brother’s names and the word “Jarlsfjord”. She exchanged a look with Erik, who smiled and nodded his head. He went to greet her. In Norse, he told her, “Falni Jarlsdottir, it is good to see you again. We are surprised to find Shannon O’Neill here. Everyone in Christenlande thinks he drowned. So you and Ranigg pulled him out of the sea.. I assume he lost his fingers and toes to the cold?”

She nodded, smiling reservedly. “Yes, he was in very bad shape when we found him. He is lucky to have lost just those… although there were other effects.. you hear his voice. I think it was not that rough before. And he has trouble getting enough breath.”

Erik glanced at the two O’Neills. “There will be many who will be overjoyed to know he is alive. He is much loved.”

Falni wanted to ask “By his wife?” but bit her tongue. She wanted to stave off that heartbreak a little longer. “I suppose he will want to go back with you..” she began.

Erik shook his head, turning as Shannon and Clancy turned and came towards them. “If he does, he will have a wait. I will not be going back to Christenlande for at least two months.” He saw just enough to see that Falni relaxed.

Shannon had heard and understood as he came up. He too had an air of relief. “I was just thinking of finding my way back when Champion came into view.. I don’t remember everything but I am starting to.” Clancy was looking at his brother quizzically. Shannon said something to him that made the by shrug and nod.

Falni spoke, “Drivvid, shall we take your brother and Erik to our longhouse?”

Erik laughed. “Drivvid? Is that what you call him? That’s wonderful. That suited him even before he jumped in the water.” He turned and explained to Clancy in Saxon that “Drivvid” meant “driftwood” in Norse. Clancy did not seem to care for the jest.

Meanwhile Falni and Shannon had both looked up at the word “jumped”. They exchanged glances.

Shannon hobbled to Erik’s side. In Saxon he whispered, “Erik, will ye have a private word with me a moment?” Erik willingly followed Shannon off a little distance from the others, the woman and the boy who stood awkwardly smiling at each. “Erik, am I married?”

Erik looked at him, then at Falni, and clapped Shannon on the shoulder laughing. “You were.. but she convinced the Church to annul your marriage.. she’s married again, Clancy tells me. So if there is anyone you are.. interested in… you are free.”

Falni had kept an eye on the two, and seeing Shannon grin broadly first at Erik and then her, she started to hope. Shannon made his way over to her and whispered in her ear, adding a kiss on it at the end, “Falni, will you marry me?”

She jerked and looked at him anxiously. “Oh Drivvid, is it true? Are you not married?”

“It appears that I am not.. the woman I dreamed about is married to someone else.. and for some reason that news is making me very, very happy.” He threw his arms around her, staff in his hand and all, and they laughed and embraced.

Ranigg had come running up at this point and gave Erik a welcoming bear hug. “Welcome, welcome, and what is this?” he smiled looking at his sister and Drivvid.

Erik smiled back, “It looks like Shannon just asked your sister to be his wife.”

Ranigg just stared. “Shannon? Wife?”

Falni looked over and said, “That’s exactly what he did, Drivvid I mean. He is not already married. Is that not wonderful?” She was beaming and teary eyed at the same time.

Ranigg’s own face beamed. He went up to Drivvid and threw his arms around him. “Brother! That is what I hoped. The gods must love you indeed.”

Poor Clancy stood with his arms down limp at his sides entirely in the dark about what all was going on. Shannon saw this and took Falni’s hand to lead her over to his brother.

“Clancy,” he said in Gaelic., “WE have a great deal to talk about … The first thing I want to tell you though is that this is Falni Jarlsdottir.. and she will soon be your sister. I just asked her to marry me.” Then he turned to Falni, with the gentlest of smiles on his face. In Norse he said to her, “Falni, I could not have believed this wonderful thing could happen. This is my youngest brother Clancy O’Neill.. I told him we are getting married.”

Falni looked at him smiling, then at Clancy who was looking surprised but happy. They smiled at each other, then laughed and embraced. Shannon put his arms around them both.

--

The tables from inside the longhouse had been dragged out to join the ones that lived outside year round and all the food for the feast was being prepared. Erik sat on the bench along one side of one table next to Clancy so he could translate from Norse to Saxon and back. Clancy’s question made him laugh.

“Why is she not serving the feast with the other women?” He was looking at Falni, sitting on the other side of Shannon, joining in the talk and laughter, her huge drinking horn listed to her lips.

“She doesn’t cook and serve the fish.. she catches them!” he explained. “Falni is the captain of her fishing boat. And a damned fine one at that.”

Clancy looked at her with new respect, but said, “I should not care to serve under a woman captain..”

Erik slapped him on the back and laughed aloud. “I would! And I mean that every way I t can be taken. But I am actually surprised she is marrying Shannon.. I thought she would never marry.. she has.. or had I suppose.. no time for men.”

Falni had heard her name and glanced over at the pair conversing. She smiled at them, then went back to listening to Drivvid/Shannon talk.

Shannon turned to look at his brother and the Dane. “Seein’ ye makes me start to remember more.. not all I am that pleased to be recallin’. But there is one thing missin’.. something important.. someone important.”

Clancy exchanged glances with Erik, then asked, “Do ye remember the King?”

“Aye, Lawrence. And Queen Josephine. And Prince Peter, and two little girls, twins, and two more boys… Tavish and… Donalbain.”

Erik supplied, “The girls are Caithness and Elaine.”

Shannon smiled with recognition. “Aye, a fair one and a dark one, I recall. And let me think.. Duke Lorin and his wife Larisa and their son whose name I dinnae think I e’er could remember.”

Clancy laughed, “True on you, Shan. ‘Tis John but ye dinnae forget.. ye never remembered.” He looked hard at his brother. “And who might Seamus and Deirdre be?”

Shannon went pale and put his cup down. Falni looked at him concerned. He turned and said something to her in Norse.

Erik told Clancy, “He just remembered his children. That must feel very strange.”

Clancy nodded. “Are ye noticin’ what I be noticin’.. who he is leavin’ out.. the most important one of all?”

Erik nodded. “Shannon,” he called.

Shannon looked from where Falni had been comforting and asking him questions about his son and daughter.

“Aye, Erik?”

Erik said gently, “Do you remember Rory?”

If Shannon had been pale before he was drained of all color now. His face filled with distress. He put his face in his hands and started to weep, speaking in Gaelic, sounding just miserable. Everyone else turned now to Clancy. But the boy was up and at his brother’s side in a flash, his arms around his shoulders, joining him in the Gaelic and in the tears. Falni was frantic.

Shannon had just remembered it all in one fell swoop. The journey to Scotland. The hell he had put Rory through. The angry words between them.. well actually Shannon’s rejection of Rory. The suicide note. The boat. The water. And Rory.. what must he be feeling with his friend dead by his own hand… his childhood friend and almost constant companion. He could not near it, thinking of Rory’s pain.

Clancy tried to reassure him. “He was getting back to normal when I was about to be leavin’ with Erik. It was that hard on him at first, but Beltane was one of the last days I was there and he was celebratin’ with the rest of us.”

Shannon turned to Falni. “Oh, Falni, I just remembered the man who has been my dearest friend and brother almost all my life. And I was cruel to him in the end.. I meant to kill myself.. I think at the end I fell. I did not jump. But Rory, my friend, has been in terrible pain thinking I am dead. I have to go. I have to go tell him I am alive.”

Falni thought about what it would be like if something like this had happened to Ranigg and she thought he was dead. “I will take you, Drivvid. I will take you home to Rory.”

Next: Shannon Returns to Lawrencium

Shannon in Norway: Total Recall

On behalf of Shannon and Rory, Happy St. Patrick's Day! Tune in to Radio Dé Danann for a History of Ireland in Music all this week! http://www.radiodedanann.com .

Falni lay in her bed closet, her face buried in the straw bed to stifle the
sound of her weeping. Drivvid was married. He would leave her now. She
felt the old familiar panic rise but let it make her tremble. She did not
get up. She did not pull on her clothes. She did not call for Ranigg and
the crew to set out to sea on Sif's Pride.

Why not? She had done it before in the middle of the night. Not often, but
it had happened. It was because if she left, she would lose any chance that
Drivvid might be persuaded to stay or at least to wait. She clung to him
even as he told her he would leave.

He was right. If there was a family out there who thought their beloved
husband and father was dead, he had to go to them. She tried to see it from
their point of view. He was right. But she did not care. She loved him,
needed him. She would do whatever she could to keep him.

A thought crossed her mind. Was he as much leaving her as going to that
other woman and her children? If she would lie with him as a woman should
with a man, would he stay? Might it be preferable to face her fear and pain
than let him go?

It was worth a try, and she pulled on her dress and opened the bed closet
doors. The hearth fire was low but it gave enough light to show that
Drivvid was lying uncovered on the bare floor. She went to him in her bare
feet and lay down alongside him. She pressed up against him and
tentatively, anxiously, reached for his manhood.

Drivvid started awake. "Falni, what are you doing?" He pushed her hand
away.

She reached for him again. "Don't leave me, Drivvid. I can do this, I can
make you happy."

He pulled away and sat up. He took her wrists in his fists and held them
away from him. It was difficult; she was a strong woman. "Falni, stop!
You don't have to do this. I couldn't anyway. That's not what this is
about."

Falni struggled to tear her wrists from his grasp. She pulled her right
hand away from the weaker grip of his injured hand. He grabbed it again.
His words finally made it into her understanding. She struggled one last
time and then relaxed. She fell forward onto his chest, her arms around
him. "Oh Drivvid, I am sorry, I just wanted to make sure you knew you could
have whatever you want.. so if that was part of why.."

Drivvid put his arms around her and pulled her up against him. "Falni, I
don't want to go. I want to stay.. with you. But I can't. I can't let
them wonder, grieve, for no reason."

"Then take me with you. I will stay somewhere while you work it out, "
Falni cried.

"Macushla," Drivvid said, suddenly remembering the Gaelic for "darling",
"what if I see them and know I love them.. or that they need me more than
you do.."

She sat up, angry, "That's not possible. No one could need you more than I
do."

"You don't know that, Falni." Drivvid bowed his head. Then he looked up
again. "Falni, I need to know. I need to remember. If Heather and our
children are out there somewhere, who knows what other obligations I have?
You would not want a man who dishonored the gods by breaking his trust..."

Her eyes were hard and her lips pressed tightly together. He saw this but
went on, " That's why I could not promise you anything.. I could not say for
sure what I might do, might have to..." His voice trailed off.

Falni looked sharply at him. "What? What is it?"

Drivvid reached up and ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh. "I
don't know. It just felt so familiar, what I just said to you. Like I had
told someone I could not make a promise to do what she wanted.. some other
time.." His face screwed up with pain. "Oh gods, either take those
memories away or make them plain. I can't stand this any more," he cried
out, making servants sleeping on the floor stir and wake.

Drivvid saw their looks, at him, at Falni. "Let's go outside," he
suggested.

Outside the longhouse they walked in silence for a while. Then he noticed
her feet. "What are you doing out with nothing on your feet? Come over
here," he admonished her. He led her over to a small overturned boat. He
pulled himself up onto it and then reached for her. She climbed up to sit
by him. He took her bare feet into his lap and enclosed each in his hands
to warm them. "Like ice," he observed.

Falni leaned her head against his shoulder as he rubbed her toes and feet.
"Who will love me, who will care for me like this if you are gone?" she
asked sadly.

Drivvid's voice pleaded. "Don't Falni. Don't do that to me."

She looked up at him sharply. "Don't do that to YOU?" Her anger surged.
She both wanted to cling to and strike him.

He said nothing. His own face was grim and closed. Her anger flared
higher. She slapped him in the face. "Who needs you anyway, you broken
down excuse for a man!" She wanted him to fight her, to fight for her. He
just sat without moving or changing his expression. He had closed his eyes
when she made contact with his cheek, but his expression remained closed,
shutting her out.

Falni made a sound of frustrated anger and pulled her feet away from him.
She jumped down. Without turning to look back at him, she walked quickly to
Sif's Pride, getting her bare feet and skirt wet in the shallow water. She
pulled herself up on deck and went into the little tent-like enclosure.
She did not weep. She seethed. She lay on her side curled up into a ball
and seethed. Then, exhausted, she fell asleep.

Drivvid had not fallen asleep. He was tired and drowsy so although he tried
with all his might he could not stir any more memories. He sat on, getting
cold and feeling empty.

In the morning Falni rose to hear voices from just off her own prow, She
sat up and stretched, then remembered the night before and why she was on
Sif's Pride. Her heart sank. She stood and lifted the flap of the
enclosure and stepped out into a bright, warm August day.

She recognized the voices as soon as she was outside. One was a villager
who had cousins just down the coast in another fjord and visited them
regularly by boat. The other was Drivvid. She realized immediately that
her man was looking for a way to leave her.

She dashed over to the side of the boat and leaped down into the water,
splashing Drivvid thoroughly as she landed. He started and looked up at
her. His face filled with a deep sorrow. "Good morning, Falni," he said
in a desultory voice.

"So Harald is going to help you escape?" Her eyes flashed.

"Please, Falni. That is unfair. I have no desire to escape. If I could
forget it all again I would. But I can't. And I have to go find out."

Drivvid was not looking into her eyes. She felt both pleasure at this and a
strong desire to take him, hold him and comfort him. She realized with a
start that the man she had thought of as fragile, damaged, was showing more
strength than she had seen in other men in her life. This reminded her of
the cruel words she had cast at him while he was trying to warm her feet
with his hands.

"Oh, Drivvid, I am so ashamed of what I said to you last night.." she buried
her reddening face in her hands.

He said quietly to Harald, "Just let me know when you are leaving." The man
nodded, looked sadly at the woman, and turned and went away. Drivvid went
to hold Falni, leaning his staff against the hull of a boat so he could put
both arms around her. "I knew you were upset and angry. You did not mean
to hurt me."

"Aye, I did. But I was wrong," the woman said, leaning against him,
drawing in all the comfort she could from his embrace.

They were both startled by the sound of the horn that heralded the arrival
of a ship. They looked up automatically. Although it was still far down
the fjord, they both saw the sail, with its red and white vertical stripes,
of a dragon ship. Both of them breathed "Erik" at the same time, then
whipped their heads around to stare at each other. Both asked in unison,
"You know Erik?"

Falni was mystified. "How can you know Erik? We do because he comes into
Jarlsfjord once or twice a year to trade."

Drivvid alternately stared out at the ship and glanced confused at Falni. I
know him.. because he comes to Lawrencium. He is.. the King's friend..."
He stood stock still. Then he looked hard at her. "O'Neill. My name is
O'Neill. Shannon O'Neill." It was all flooding back now. There was so
much he could not sort it all out. He took Falni's hands in his and whooped
for joy. "Falni, I remember! I remember everything!"

She smiled and laughed with him, but her look was still guarded. She waited
for the one piece of information she wanted, needed most.

Drivvid.. no, Shannon was thinking hard again. Is face was working as
pieces of his life fell into place. "You were right.. I am a bard.. a
minstrel.. I sing and tell stories.. and I... I.. play the lute..." He took
his left hand from her and held it with its two missing fingers in front of
his eyes. A look of absolute despair flooded his face and he wailed. He
cried out several words in Gaelic. He seemed to crumple, and Falni put her
arms around him to hold him up.

"Dear, dear Drivvid, what is it? What are you remembering?" she begged.
Out of the side of her eye the dragon ship was coming closer.

"Oh, gods, Falni.. I can't play the lute any more.. it was my life.. I made
love to that lute.. it was all I really cared about.. or most of it." He
looked up with a tear stained face. "Was there an instrument, like a bowl
with a long handle and strings.. was there a lute near me when you found
me?"

She remembered the thing that had gotten tangled around his neck. "Aye, it
was the only thing keeping you from going under and drowning. We had to cut
it away, cut the strap that was around your neck,. It was starting to
become awash.. it would have kept us from getting you on board or it would
have broken your neck or choked you. What did you call it, a lute?"

His weight took him down to sit on the ground. She could not hold him, so
she sunk with him to sit by him on the cold rocky shore. She put her arms
around him. "Why can't you play the lute any more?"

He looked at her, held up his left hand and stared at it. "This is the hand
I use to make the notes.. and you need all of them to do that."

She nodded. "What do you use the other hand for?"

"Plucking the strings," he said, mournfully.

"Do you need all your fingers to pluck?"

He looked up at her, his face starting to clear. "No.." he began slowly.

"Then can't you make the notes with your right hand and pluck with your
left?" she touched each hand as she said this.

He stared at his hands. "I.. could.. learn to." He looked up at Falni, his
face breaking into a triumphant grin. "Aye, aye I could! When it comes to
music, I can do ANYTHING!"

Voices told them the ship was about to reach the closest point to the shore
its draft would allow. This was almost as near as Sif's Pride, since the
longships were designed for shallow draft, shallow water, and speed.
Shannon and Falni looked up. They could both see Erik at the prow, lifting
his hand to let the rowers know to stop and the man at the aft cast the
anchor. Erik's eyes scanned up the beach and landed on Shannon and Falni.
He stared. They could see him squint, then mouth the word, "Shannon!" He
turned and seemed to call for someone. "Clancy!"

Shannon and Falni got to their feet. Shannon said, "Clancy? What's he
doing here?"

"Who is Clancy?" Falni inquired.

He looked at her smiling. "My brother!"

Just then the blonde head of a boy of 16 popped over the side of Champion,
Erik's ship, and looked, not lighting on the couple immediately. Then he
saw him. "Shannon? Shannon!"

Next: Shannon Again

Shannon in Norway: Inklings, Part II

Once in open waters, Drivvid sought Falni out. "What is wrong, love?" he
asked as he put his arms around her as she stood on the deck facing away
from him.

She did not answer at first. Then slowly, and looking around to make sure
none of the crew could hear, answered. "I don't know. I just suddenly felt
you slipping through my fingers."

He held her, unable to reassure her that he would never leave. Until he
knew who he was and what obligations he might have to other people from his
life before Jarlsfjord, he could not in good conscience make that sort of
promise. She knew this as well as he and did not expect it.

He looked out onto the water and up into the clouds. "Falni, all we really
have is now."

She nodded and turned to put her face in his chest. She forgot her crew and
wept openly.

They were at sea for only a few days, there being little chance of a catch.
In that time Drivvid felt memories stirring. He found himself trying to
stifle them. But how could he do that? There might be a connection, an
obligation he would want to remember, would want to go back to. He tried
hard to let the memories come, warring constantly with his inner conflict.

Sitting with his back to a crate and staring out onto the water seemed to
calm him and let the images come. He knew Falni was watching him ruefully
and that she knew what he was doing. She had lashed out at him one time,
just before they headed for home. She had accused him of wanting to leave
her. But she had instantly melted onto him weeping. The crew minded their
own business.

As he sat he tried to guide the memories to the surface of his mind.
"Ireland.. " he said to himself. "Ireland.. where? Ulster.. what is
Ulster? It is where my sisters and my brothers live. No, just one sister..
Kathleen. And no, my mother is dead.." Then painfully, "My father killed
her." His face twisted with pain. He did not want to remember things like
that. Why was it you had no choice?

He decided to change the key. "Christenlande," he thought. "Christenlande.
Lawrence. Lawrencium. Josephine.. and who else? I have no wife.. but I did?
Or do? No wife in Lawrencium. Perhaps in Ireland? No. She's in.. in..
Northumbria. Why Northumbria? He could not remember. But that meant he
did or had had a wife.. and children? A boy with hair like his own? A girl
who looked like her mother? Who looked like.. Heather? That Web Site it,
not heather.. but the name Heather. Again his face twisted in pain, but now
he did not know why.

He knew there was one other thing, one other terribly important thing. Was
it a person? Or was it something else? Maybe it was connected.. maybe
something to do with his being a bard. R-r-o.. no it would not come.

Finally back ashore they learned that the men from Northumbria had long
gone. Drivvid was quiet, almost morose. Falni tried to remind him, "All we
have is now.. that's what you said.." but nothing helped.

He tried to explain. "There is something just over the horizon... something
that won't let me rest until I remember."

That night when she waited for him to come to her bed, Falni saw Drivvid
sitting by the hearth fire with his head bowed. She went to him.
"Drivvid, come to bed, won't you?"

When he turned to look up at where she stood by him she saw his eyes were
damp and red. She sat down by him with a chill running through her.
"Drivvid, what is it? Now what have you recalled?"

"Falni," he started, his voice thick with emotion. "I am married. To
someone named Heather. We have two children. I don't know if they think I
am dead, but if they do, I can't let them go on grieving. I have to go
back."

Falni paled. She trembled. She could not speak.

He went on. "I can't come to your bed without implying that those people
don't matter. I am sorry, Falni.. I wish with all my heart and soul it
wasn't true. But I guess we both knew it might be."

He looked up at her with agony written on his face. "I will leave as soon
as I can get someone to take me to another port, where I can find a ship
that will take me to Christenlande."

Falni had put her hand on her heart, feeling it thud rapidly through her
chest. "Drivvid.. "she began, then turned. She went to her bed closet,
climbed in and shut the doors.

Drivvid sat on by the fire. He longed for the time not so long ago when all
he was just Drivvid and Falni's love. He regretted the fact that you can
forget but you cannot un-remember. He lay on the ground by the fire and let
sleep overtake him.

Next: Total Eecall

Shannon in Norway: Drivvid and Falni, Part I

The red haired man stared back as a sour looking man passed near where he
and tthe big Norseman worked alongside the fishing boat.

"Ranigg," Drivvid asked in his improving Norse, "who is that man wounding me
with his glare?"

Ranigg, who was coiling the rope that hauled the fishing net to the hull of
the boat, looked up to where Drivvid was pointing with the hand that still
had all its fingers. "Oh him. That's Thordi Olafsson. You haven't met
him before?"

Drivvid, the man Ranigg and his sister had fished out of the North Sea,
shook his head. "I think I would have noticed him with that unpleasant
face he has. My memory may be warped, but that's for things before I came
here, not after."

Ranigg just smiled and went on coiling while the man who supported himself
with a staff struggled to keep his balance while sorting out the tangles in
the rope as he was feeding them to him.

"Does he glare like that at everyone?" Drivvid asked the question really in
his mind.

Ranigg nodded. "Yes, but at the family of Jarl Ragnarsson most. That
obviously includes you, Drivvid."

The man had come to accept the name, which meant "driftwood", given to him
by Ranigg's sister Falni when she learned he could not recall his real name.
"Why does he hate your family?" The last of the rope slid through his hands
and was added to Ranigg's coil. The Norseman hefted the full coil onto his
shoulder and went to put it on the deck of the boat. The other man hobbled
along after him.

"He hates Falni, and we are her family," Ranigg explained.

Drivvid stopped dead in his tracks. "Hates Falni?! Why would anyone hate
Falni?"

Ranigg tossed the rope onto the deck and turned to look at Drivvid. "I am
afraid only Falni can answer that question. She will not allow anyone else
to speak of it."

Drivvid asked, "Then I shall ask her.." but Ranigg cut him off.

"I would not do that were I you."

The man with the unruly mop of red hair which was now tied behind his head
with a leather thong in the Norse fashion, just stared at the taller man.
Then he nodded slowly. "All right."

It had been some weeks since Drivvid had come around at last after being
unconscious since he was pulled nearly chilled to death from the sea onto
the deck of Sif's Pride. His visible hurts were healing, those being where
Ranigg had had to cut off two fingers of his left hand and three toes of his
right foot. The skillful cauterization hastened the healing. The wounds
would be frightful to look at for a long time if not forever, but Drivvid
was becoming adjusted to the disabilities as he kept active and learned to
deal with them.

That these amputations due to gangrene were on opposite sides made
compensating for them a bit harder, since he had to use his whole hand to
hold the staff to let him walk with the partial right foot. But that meant
his left hand was the one free to haul buckets of water and such, and that
was the hand with only two fingers and a thumb. Still he was not one to sit
and complain idly and working was helping him cope.

The invisible wounds were harder to gauge. His memory was still gone. He
seemed to be able to remember some melodies but nothing about his own life,
where he was from, who his people were, and how he came to be in the sea.
There were other injuries too. He still had a raspy voice and often coughed
from not being able to bring in a whole lungful of air. He knew that other
organs might have been hurt by the intense cold of the water, but he would
simply have to wait to see if it was so and what it would mean.

Drivvid had been accepted as a new member of the community of Jarlsfjord
readily, with the one exception of Thordi Olafsson. That man would watch
the newcomer hobble back and forth from Falni's and Ranigg's long house to
the waterfront and scowl. He could not have told you why he scowled.. not
why he scowled at Drivvid in any case. He knew all too well why anything
associated with the woman who had saved Drivvid infuriated him. Everyone in
Jarlsfjord knew too.. except Drivvid.

Falni watched the man she had rescued whenever she could do so
surreptitiously. He seemed to be an easy-going and cheerful fellow, all the
more surprising given what he had gone through both in the cold water of the
North Sea and since then. There had been something more about the
amputations than simply losing digits for this man.. she assumed, since he
seemed like a musician or bard, that it was something to do with that.
Probably he knew he could not play an instrument he no longer remembered he
had. She secretly hoped he never remembered who he was or where he came
from. She knew that hope was wrong, but she held it in her heart anyway.

Falni watched him now, as he helped Ranigg by the boat. She saw the tense
exchange of looks with Thordi and sighed. She was not afraid of Thordi
but she feared what Drivvid might think of her if he ever learned from the
bitter man what had happened to her so many years ago. For the first time
in her life she was worrying about what a man would think of her.. as a
woman. If she could have found a way to keep Drivvid ignorant and happy
with her, she would have done all in her power to make it so.

Falni felt the old yearning, even compulsion, hit her again. It made her
tense, even panicky. It was seeing how Thordi looked at Drivvid that had
done it. She shook herself, then went into her house to gather her things.

Ranigg and Drivvid were almost to the door themselves when she shot out of
it. "Let's go!" she called to Ranigg. "Get the crew. We are going out
now." She did not even look at them as she hurried by.

Ranigg and Drivvid looked at each other. The Norseman said, "Well that's an
order. I guess you will have to spend some time on your own while we go out
to sea."

Drivvid had turned to watch Falni's retreating back. "Out to sea? Just
like that?" At Ranigg's resigned nod he went on, "I am going with you." He
went in with Ranigg so they each could gather those things they would need,
in Drivvid's case just some warmer clothing.

"I don't think Falni will let you aboard," Ranigg cautioned.

"Why not?" Drivvid demanded.

"How are you going to manage on a boat with that foot and that hand?" Ranigg
asked, turning to head out the door.

Following him, Drivvid protested, "I can manage."

At the boat Falni was barking orders at the crew as they arrived hastily
pulling on heavy jackets and hauling their gear aboard. When Drivvid
started to climb aboard, she spun and spat at him. "Where do you think YOU
are going?!"

Drivvid stared at her hard. "With you. What does it look like?"

"I can't have you on board gobbling about and falling overboard," she
retorted.

Drivvid kept his eyes steady on her. "I fell overboard once before and
survived.."

Falni laughed, "You call that surviving. Well I suppose we could lash you
to the mast. Come aboard." She would not tell anyone this, but she was
pleased both that he was coming and that he had been so sure he wanted to.

Much to his and everyone else's surprise, Drivvid managed to develop a way
to move on the boat even while it was bucking and rocking without falling..
very often. At first Ranigg had watched him nervously. Falni had shouted
at him many times to go sit down and hold still. But he kept at it, and in
fact the workout his right leg was getting would prove to make him less
unsteady when he got back on land.

There was not much chance for a private conversation on the small boat, so
he was not able to ask Ranigg why they had set out so suddenly. He did
notice that Falni, who had seemed like she was escaping rather than
willingly setting out to sea, relaxed once they were out of the fjord and
into open water.

"Whatever happened to you, Falni?" he thought to himself. He watched her
stride about the deck, calm, confident, strong. "What could you possibly be
so afraid of?"

Next: Drivvid and Falmi, Part II

Shannon in Norway: Drivvid

Jarlsfjord, Norway

The shore was crowded with villagers as Sif's Pride pulled in to Jarlsfjord
that late April day. It was cool but brilliant in the sea level community,
and the tops of the flanking mountains were covered with snow. The sight of
the fishing boat with its shallow hull full of fish for the people to
preserve and to sell further brightened what was already a clear, cheerful
day. Everyone knew and liked Falni and Ranigg.. well almost everyone.. so
the shouts and waves of greeting were as much for them and their crew as for
the bounty of Njord the sea god.

One face did scowl, but no one took notice of it. Thordi was a bitter man
and scowled much. That he hated Falni was well known, but his reason being
poor, no one cared to consider it. He took one glance at the sail of the
ship coming in and turned and went back into his longhouse.

The people on the shore were surprised when, instead of piling off the ship
into the waiting embrace of family members, the crew held back. They
awaited Falni and Ranigg and two of their number who were bearing, it
seemed, a body off the ship. They watched as the four jumped down from the
deck into the water, taking care not to let their burden fall.

As they came up with the man onto the rocky beach, people crowded around
with their hearts in their throats to see which crew member was wounded or
dead. There was a collective sigh of relief as the word got around quickly
that it was not one of their own but a stranger with flame red hair. The
villagers crowded around the crew members as they disembarked to get the
whole story of the man Falni had fished out of the sea.

In the meantime Falni and Ranigg with the help of the two crew members
carried the man Falni was calling "Drivvid" to their longhouse. They
carried him over to the central hearth fire. Falni called for servants to
bring bedding and furs to place near the fire.

Ranigg asked, "Would it not be best to put him in a bed closet?" Except for
the lower servants, everyone in the longhouse slept in beds built into the
walls and which had doors that closed on them. It was an efficient and warm
strategy, especially if one had a bed partner of any kind.

"No," Falni said, "I want to be able to watch him."

An old woman who was a servant told Falni, "We must get some snow to rub on
his limbs for the frostbite..."Gods, no!" Falni snapped back. "First of
all, that is nonsense. Second, he does not have frostbite.. he was in the
water. He is chilled badly but nothing was frozen.. except for some of his
hair."

The old woman sniffed with resentment and walked away.

Falni said to her brother as she sat on a stool near Drivvid, who showed no
sign of regaining consciousness soon, "I want to try to get some more ale or
mead into him.. can you get me some? And heat it a little?

Ranigg cheerfully went off to get the drink and warm it while his sister sat
and examined Drivvid for signs he might be recovering from his time in the
sea. He did look better. It was hard to say what damage had been done to
him by the chill water and what was already there, like his broken nose.
She was worried about his extremities. No doubt his body temperature had
gone low enough to do hurt to them and possibly organs, but she did not
know. Only time would tell. If he awoke they would learn soon enough how
badly he had been affected. If not, they would know it was too badly.

When Ranigg brought the warm mead she tried again to get some down his
throat. It stayed down a little longer this time, but It came back up with
him retching horribly. Falni decided to try something else. "Get me some
warm broth." When Ranigg brought it, she tried that. It stayed down. She
gave him as much as she thought she dared. It all stayed down.

Falni exchanged looks with her brother. He shrugged but said nothing.

"Ranigg, you had better go out and see to the offloading of the catch."

The man looked at his sister. "You are not coming?"

Falni shook her head. He saw her face was full of concern for the man
bundled by the hearth fire. . "No, I want to stay by Drivvid and see if he
starts to come out of this." She called for bedding to be placed by the man
so she could sleep there on the floor beside him.

Ranigg nodded and went out.

The next morning the man's face was hot and he was sweating badly. Ranigg
took one look and said, "He has rot in his toes and fingers. If we do not
cut them off the rotted parts it will spread and kill him.

Falni nodded sadly. She hoped that at least that he should not feel the
pain. Ranigg got and cleaned one of the best fish knives and then set it to
heat in the hearth fire. Falni got clean rags to use as bandages. She held
first his hands and then his feet so Ranigg with the help of an old man with
long experience examined them for signs of decay. "These two fingers is
all he needs removed and these three toes.. better take off the toes up a
joint too."

When Ranigg deftly put the red hot knife against the skin of the man's left
hand and cut of the littlest and next finger, he struggled and moaned
horribly. Falni and several servants had to hold him down. She wondered
that he could react at all, but realized the pain must have brought him out
of his stupor somewhat. But that was nothing compared to how he reacted
when a large corner of his right foot was laboriously cut, toe by toe and
then the next joints of the toes were removed. He screamed, almost seemed
to waken, then passed out from the pain.

"Praise the Gods he is deeply unconscious, "The old man said.

Falni carefully bandaged the hand and foot after Ranigg finished the
cauterization of the wounds with his knife heated again to red hot. She
found she had tears on her cheeks.

For many days Falni stayed by the man's side, slept next to him rolled in
furs. She left only to use a chamber pot and get some food. She carefully
cleaned his hand and foot. She was relieved to see the wounds, though
hideous to look at, were healing over as they should and there was no more
sign of infection.

At his side as she was day and night Falni was able to study everything
about him. Dry his hair was indeed a flame red mass of curls. His face was
handsome in a boyish way. Ranigg had responded to this observation, "If the
boy went through hell." That was true.. his face may once have been boyish,
but it was ravaged with care and abuse, seemingly from before as well as
during his North Sea ordeal. He seemed strong enough, given that ordeal,
and Falni thought they could thank that fact for his surviving at all.

He lay naked in the furs, but Falni had had the clothes they found him in
dried, repaired and cleaned. He had worn some sort of jacket made of long
strips of different colored wool sewn vertically to make stripes. His shirt
was plainly made of white wool cloth. He wore leg wrappings and boots just
as her own people did. His belt was leather and tooled with beautiful
designs that reminded her somewhat of runes. His belt knife was of
excellent quality and its hilt was inlaid with some sort of milky green
marbled stone.

She looked at his body, lifting the furs to examine him. He was beautiful.
His skin was pale but healthy in color. His limbs were well formed. She
had to clean him of his waste so she saw and touched his bush of red pubic
hair and the penis and testicles that were still drawn somewhat tight from
the cold water. She found herself feeling something she had not before, a
stirring that alarmed her. She put it out of her mind as swiftly as she
could. She had never had a man willingly, and she never wanted to. Not
after what had happened when she was a girl.

One thing she found particularly fascinating was his arms and hands. They
were strong and sinewy even relaxed. His finger pads were thick and
calloused on both hands, but not in the way someone who worked with tools
would be. His hands otherwise were long fingered and delicate. Musician's
hands, she realized. Of course, the musical instrument they had cut away
from his neck when they pulled him out of the water. She wondered if he
could still play such an instrument with the missing fingers. She had the
idea to bring him music while he slept, singing songs she knew and bringing
the village bard to play and tell tales near him.

Drivvid stayed still for a long time, but then began to move around a bit as
if he was struggling to escape some bonds. Several days after that he began
to mumble words. She could not make them out, either because he was saying
nonsense or was mumbling in a language she did not know. She asked several
people to listen and see if they could understand the man's mumblings. None
could. It was not Norse, nor was it Swedish or Danish. It was not
Germanic, including Saxon. One woman who had been taken from Scotland when
she was a tiny child and lived among the people of Jarlsfjord as a freed
slave said it sounded a little like the bits and pieces of her own language
that she recalled from childhood, but she could not be sure.

They discussed whether a soothsayer or other magical person should be
summoned in case it was the language of the gods or spirits or pure runic
language. Falni showed others the belt with its rune-like tooling. But they
decided that the old former slave was probably right.. the man was probably
a Pict or a Scot or from one of the nearby islands.

The people in her longhouse were baffled by Falni's dedication to the man.
Ranigg explained that she saw her responsibility to care for Drivvid as come
from the Gods. That explanation was readily accepted.

One early morning after Falni had gotten up and washed, she stood with her
back to the man and combed out her long pale hair in preparation for
plaiting it. The man's eyes fluttered. He rested his blurred gaze on her,
troubled by not being able to form a coherent thought readily. As she ran
her comb through her hair the firelight touched it, gilding it.

"Josephine?" he said almost inaudibly, then winced at the pain in his throat
from the effort. He began to cough and choke.

Falni spun and quickly demanded water. A servant brought it. She knelt by
the man and held up his head so she could give him the water. He drank,
grateful for the soothing feeling of the cool water. He looked into her
face and smiled and odd little crooked smile. He said something that
sounded like "gramagot" and reached to touch her cheek. He glanced at his
hand which was still heavily bandaged. He looked questioningly at her, but
then his eyes closed and he was asleep again.

Falni sat back on the floor. "Shose feen? Gramagot?" Were either his
name?"

"Drivvid, dear, I do not know what we are going to do with you," she
breathed.

Next: Drivvid and Falni, Part I

Shannon in Norway: Driftwood

The North Sea off the coast of Christenlande

Falni stood and stretched, yawning and groaning the kinks out of her bones.
She used the bucket set in the oiled cloth enclosure on the deck of her
ship, Sif's Pride, and took it out to dump into the sea. She saw that her
brother and ship's mate Ranigg was already up and directing the men in the
setting of the sails. The ship was a fishing vessel, light and low with
sails to propel it and no oars men.

Falni went to the chest that held many different things, including her
drinking horn and the dried salt fish that would break her fast. She filled
the horn from the barrel of ale that stood nearby. Then she went to the
stern to sit by the rudder, waiting for Ranigg to come to her so they could
discuss the plans for the day's fishing. She ate the fish and took gulps of
the ale. She stared at the clouds, how the wind moved the lines and sails,
how the waves dip and came up with a little white on their caps, deciding
how best to use these forces to navigate back to Jarlsfjord in Norway with
their latest catch of fish, stored in the shallow hold under the deck.

Ranigg was walking towards her when, idly remembering her driftwood dream,
Falni's keen eyes fell on something that did not belong in her very familiar
environment. It was dull red and there was something next to it.. was it
bowl-shaped and striped?

"Ranigg, look there!" Falni called as he was about to greet her. "What is
that?"

Her brother gazed in the direction she was looking. It took him only a
moment to pick out the anomalous thing. He shaded his eyes against the
early sun to see better. "I don't know," he said, "but we should get closer
to see what it is. It might be something that drifted up from some village
on the coast.. we are so close here. Or it might have fallen off a boat.
Could be valuable."

Falni did not seem to hear anything he said. She was poised at the rail of
her deck leaning far out. Her own hand shaded her eyes. She was thinking
of the driftwood in her dream and marveling at the dream's portentous
nature, connecting it with her feeling the night before that there was some
great alteration in the course the gods had set for her life.

A shout came from several of their crew members. One cried "Serpent!"
Another cried, "Treasure!" and another "Jansaxa and her sister sea-maidens!"
Their voices were not serious. With only the exception of Falni herself no
one thought what was floating there alongside the ship was anything but
flotsam or a dead seal.

Falni suddenly jerked into action. She shouted orders to her crew to
maneuver the ship closer to the object. She called for Ranigg to get the
grapples they kept on board to haul in nets full of North Sea fish. As the
ship neared the object in the water she took the proffered grapple from her
brother, stretched out again precariously over the side of the ship and
reached until the grapple was near enough to the thing in the water to try
to snag it somehow.

Before it was near enough to hook Falni and Ranigg could discern what the
object with the patch of dark red and the bowl was. It was a man! His eyes
were closed, his face almost blue with the cold. He indeed had some sort of
bowl strapped to his neck that held it out of the water. Falni could see a
short but evil looking gash on the side of his head that was turned towards
her and slightly up. Ranigg said to the crewman who had come up beside
them, "It seems Njord has delivered up a corpse for us."

"You don't know he's dead," Falni protested in unaccustomed passion. Ranigg
looked at her surprised. "Well, don't just stand there.. help me!"

The woman and her brother reached their grapples out to snag the strap that
seemed to be attached both to the man and to the bowl, which they now saw
had some sort of long handle with pegs on the bent part. Ranigg got hold of
it first, then Falni got her grapple hooked on the man's collar. They
pulled him in. The weight of the strange-handled bowl seemed to be dragging
him back away from them, so when they had the man caught by his clothing and
the dark red which was his hair, the crewman leaned over with his belt knife
and cut the strap. The bowl, which had a small hole on the top, started to
leak water, then fell back into the sea and drifted away.

The three hauled the man onto the deck. Other crewmen had joined them out
of curiosity to see what they had brought out of the sea. One of the men,
who had converted to Christianity, crossed himself. He started to pray for
the dead man. Falni was on her knees and had her ear against the man's
chest. "Wait, fool! He's not dead.. yet anyway. Get him into the
enclosure and let's get him under some furs."

Ranigg and the crew man, with the help of one other, managed to lift the
stiff body and carry it quickly to the enclosure. Falni had dashed ahead
and tied back the flap of the oiled cloth and cleared her own bed roll so
they could lay the man on it. When they had him down, she ordered the
brazier to be stoked and the leather cover for the top and sides of the tent
like enclosure put on.

She knelt and stripped the man's wet clothes from him. He was very blue in
most parts of his anatomy. She looked him over carefully, frowning at the
sad state of his feet and hands. She saw his head gash had bled a good
deal but was washed clean by the sea water and would heal. He had had his
nose broken at some point in his life, she could tell. His belly was
distended.. whether from too much drink or swallowing seawater she was not
sure. She turned him on his side and pressed his belly from the side,
hoping to force some seawater out of him, but not much came forth.

Falni grabbed one of her own shirts and dried the man. She could see his
soaked hair would lighten to a flame red when it was completely dry.. was
that the flame in her dream? She covered him with furs. Then she thought
better of it and stripped her own clothes, climbed into the bed with him and
pulled the furs over them both. "Ranigg,, get naked and get in here!" she
barked at her brother.

Ranigg did not question her. Anyone who sailed or lived in the north knew
that one of the best ways to warm someone who had suffered exposure was to
cover him with your own warm naked body. He did as Falni asked and got in
on the other side of the man.

"It may be too late to save all his fingers and toes, maybe even a foot, but
we can at least save his life. The gods sent us to him, so we must be meant
to help him," the woman said, shivering herself from the icy touch of the
frozen man's body.

The crewman had the brazier going hot. The small hole in the tent and its
leather cover let the thin smoke out but not the heat. The enclosure warmed
quickly. Soon Falni was no longer shivering, but the red haired man was
starting to, and violently. "That's good.. his shivering will make his
blood flow and warm places we can't warm with our bodies and furs," Ranigg
observed.

Finally the shivering weakened and stopped and a hint of color started to
come to the man's face. He did not awaken. Falni was troubled when she
inspected the man's hands and feet. "He will lose some of his fingers and
toes. But for all that, he is extremely lucky. He must not have been in
the water too long."

Ranigg drew himself out from the furs and put his clothing back on. "I
think we can let him sleep now. I wonder how he came to be there? And what
that thing strapped to him was?"

Falni climbed off the bed and began to dress again as well. "I saw it
closer for a second when it was just about to fall after Bjorn cut the
strap. It looked like some sort of musical instrument.. with strings. I
suppose this man must be a bard." She climbed back on top of the furs and
the man again, fully clothed. "I will stay and watch him. Bring some ale
and warm it. Use my horn. Can you take Sif's Pride towards home?"

Ranigg watched his sister as she got on top of the man. He admired her
steadfastness. "Of course, captain," he replied. He went outside to
direct the work of the crew in setting the sails for Norway.

A crewman came in with Falni's drinking horn.. He put a small pot with ale
on the brazier. When it had had time to warm, Falni got up to fill her horn
with the ale. She knelt by the man's head and lifted it onto her lap. She
very carefully dripped the warm liquid into his mouth. Though still
unconscious he cough and retched. She turned his head to the side so that
he would not breathe in the ale or vomit. She waited and tried again.

The same thing happened. She sat back with the drinking horn and said,
"Well stranger, I guess that will have to wait. What am I going to call you
until you wake and tell us who you are?" She thought a bit. She poured the
ale back into the pot and put down the horn. She climbed onto the man again
to warm him further. She thought a moment, the side of her head pressed to
his chest, hearing his heartbeat faint but steady. Then she smiled to
herself. "I shall call you 'Drivvid'*."

Falni lay on the man until his heartbeat strengthened, then took up a vigil
sitting at his side.

Sif's Pride slowly made its way back to Jarlsfjord.

* Drivvid is the Norse word for driftwood.

Next: Drivvid

Shannon in Norway: Sif's Pride

And now we get back to Shannon...

Falni Jarlsdottir stood in the prow of her long, low ship gazing west into
the setting sun. Her look was distant. Her brother Ranigg, leaving a small
group of crew at their gambling, looked at Falni as he approached her. She
was young but strong, with pale hair in plaits. She wore men's clothes for
the deck of a ship was no place for skirts. He stance was steady, long
accustomed to the pitch and roll of the waves. He smiled at her, his brave
sister, the captain of her own ship.

"It looks as if the very edge of a the world was afire," he said at her
shoulder.

She nodded, "It does, brother. I wonder if in fact there is a fire on the
land.. that is Britain there, is it not?" She knew full well what land was
there just out of sight, so skilled a navigator was she.

"Why do you say that, sister?" Ranigg asked.

"Because when the sky is so colorful it means there is smoke in the air,"
she replied simply.

They stood together staring out at the horizon for a while, then Ranigg said
in a softer voice, "Falni, come and sit and have a horn of ale with me."
She took some time to tear her focus away from the distance, but then did,
smiling and nodding. They sat on some bales set near them on the dock.

Ranigg filled and handed her drinking horn. They sat comfortably together,
long friends as well as siblings. Ranigg was the younger, though you would
not know to look at him. Next to her stolid slender form he was broader,
taller, and even had a little white in his beard. He was so like their
father, Jarl Ragnarson, dead these three long years. But being her junior
was not why Falni had inherited her father's ship and drinking horn instead
of him. It was hers because she wanted.. and needed.. the escape to the sea
more than Ranigg ever could.

The subject of her fear of staying too long on land was never spoken of
between sister and brother, and Ranigg was content to be the mate to his
sister's captaincy. He admired her strength and courage as much as their
father had. She was a remarkable mariner, an unerring navigator, and had
almost a magical sense of where to find the fish they would catch in their
nets and bring home to the Jarlsfjord in Norway to sell and to feed their
own people. Ranigg sailed with his sister and loved the life he led as her
ship's mate.

He noticed now that her pale blue eyes had gone to the horizon again. "What
calls you, Falni? Is it the trumpet of Njord*?"

Falni slowly shook her head. "No. I don't know. I just feel that
something is about to change. It is too early for the spring runs to start.
Even this far south. But it's out there, whatever it is. It needs me."
She turned and looked into Ranigg 's face. "What can it be?"

Ranigg just shrugged and took a long draught of the ale. "Who can know?"

When Ranigg was stretching and yawning as the dark enveloped them, he called
to Falni to come and sleep. The two had a small structure of oiled skins on
deck where they could wrap up in furs and be warmed by a small brazier in
the chill damp of a North Sea night.

"Falni called back, "I will be along. I need to stay.. stay and listen."

Ranigg nodded, though she could not see it in the dark, and bid her a
goodnight. He was inside the oiled skin tent wrapped in furs and snoring
before his sister finally herself stood and yawned. She joined him, lay
waking for a while and then dozed off.

Falni dreamed that she was standing in the prow of her ship watching as the
horizon really burned, real flames. Out of the billowing smoke that spread
toward her on the water she saw a single piece of driftwood floating towards
her. In her dream she knelt, stretched and reach for the piece of wood.
Her hand touched it. Then nothing. The dream ebbed and she just slept.

* Norse god of the sea.

Next: Driftwood

Shannon and Heather: Shannon's Suicide

Shannon's conscious mind did not see or hear the little girl. If you could have asked him what had happened on the small fishing boat, he would have had a quite different memory of it.

Sitting on the cold, wet deck of the small boat, he remembered how he had approached the three French fishermen at the dock in Lawrencium and in what French he had arranged passage for himself across to wherever they planned to put into port. They were glad of the coins and asked no questions when he boarded that evening with nothing but a lute in his hands.

They had all gone to sleep after putting out their anchor, wrapped in their cloaks on the tossing deck. Shannon had nodded companionably when they had wished him "bon nuit" and wrapped himself in his own cloak, his back to the mast.

Now as he sat, the dark was total. He did not even have stars or a narrow slit of the moon to reflect off the waves. The only light was a tiny red lantern in the bow. It illuminated nothing. He thought to himself, "Och, I may as well be in the nothingness already."

He sat, icily silent, staring out into what must have been the North Sea. His heart ached. He was sober and the worse for it. He thought about Heather and his children, especially Seamus, and how he would never see any of them again, no matter what choices he made from here on in. He could not bear it. He was lost to them anyway, why then should he stay and suffer the agony he felt now?

He picked up his lute and plucked a few notes, quietly so as not to wake the fishermen. He could have blown a blast on Gabriel's trumpet if he had wanted to for all the likelihood these men would have waked. They slept hard, exhausted and rocked by the sea's gentle arms.

Shannon stood, catching his balance as the deck rolled under him. He still held his lute, still picked out simple melodies. He stopped, pulled his lute strap over his head, and started to put the lute down on the deck where it could live on, even if its loving music would never again be what it was.

As he waited for the courage to let himself step out into the cold water, Rory's face came to his mind. He saw him in terrible pain, crying out in awful grief. It struck Shannon that the grief was for him. Could he do this to his loyal and loving friend?

All at once other face's came into his mind. The Queen, weeping for him. Lawrence's stern and mournful face. The princesses' inconsolable at the loss of their playmate. Peter's disillusioned face knowing his friend had lacked the courage to go on. His sister Kathleen shaking her head in sorrow, and his brothers glancing one to another, lost without him. And finally, Shamus's broken hearted tears.

The flood of faces passed one by one, then his inner vision of Rory came back. Rory alone, Rory lost without his friend, Rory with no one to help him past this hopeless love for the Queen and into the arms of someone who would love him as he deserved. Shannon knew that he could not do it. he could not leave Rory in such pain..he could not kill himself.

He pulled his lute back up again sharply, pulling the strap over his head again. The deck lurched and he somehow managed to loop the strap around his neck twice. As he was trying to right it, the deck lurched even more. He stumbled, slipped, and fell. As he fell he hit his head on the side of the boat. Unconscious he slipped into the North Sea's cold waters, the lute still tangled around his neck and arms.

When in the daylight the fishermen looked about for him he was nowhere to be seen. They looked at each other, shrugged, and set out for home.

Nect: News of Shannon's Death

Table of Contents: All the Other Stories

The stories below are not in the novel nor  were part of the original stories.  They are a combination of side stories, such as those about Shannon's and Rory's youth,  some stories that "did not happen" nor aare to be considered part of the final story of the character's lives, such as the story of the king's mistress, Juliana, and completely unauthorized and silly stories, such The King GHets Arrested.  As I post these stories, I will add them to this Table of Contents.

Fan Fiction

Elerde's Story Contues, by Friar Jak

Shannon's and Rory's Youth

Rory's Story
Shannon O'Neill Leaves Home
Master Ishaq
Festival in Tirconnell
Disconnections

Shanon and Heather

These titles may change as I find and place the ostories.

Shannon Meets Heather, Part 1
Shannon Meets Heather, Part 2
Shannon Meets Heather, Part 3
Shannon Meets Heather, Part 4
Heather's Story
Shannon and Heather
Shannon and Heather Spllit




Shannon's and Rory's Journey to Scotland

TBA

Shanoon in Norway

TBA

JulianaStories

TBS

Newest Stories

After the Reunion

An Involuntary Christmas

More to come.  Use subscription form on the right to be sure you get them all.

What's Next for "An Involuntary King: The Stories"?

The Options

We have reached the end of of the stories that went into the making of the novel, both the stories written by teenaged nan and laura and those Nan wrote, with Laura as a consultant, from 2006-2007.

What next?  Well, you could buy the book and read the completed novel!  You can find it on the online booksellers and also on Smasgwords as an ebook.  It is on Bookshare for people with print impairments.  It is waiting at the Washington Talking Book and Braille Library for a volunteer to read it.  To find out more see More About An Involuntary King: A Tale of Anglo Saxon England.

That's not the end!  There are quite a few more stories.  They are mostly, if not all, from Ghostletters, a creative and collaborative writing group, and include stories from 2006 and after that are not part of the novel.  Some may become part of new novels.  Some are story lines that will never be part of any of Lawrence and Josephine's story, and others are simple farces written just for fun.

For instance:

Shannon and Rory's Youth

How the bards met and became musicians.

Shannon's and Rory's Journey

Shannon, believing he can get heather back, journeys to Scotland to find her.

Shannon in Norway

After an aborted suicide attempt, Shannon finds himself in Norway with amnesia.

Rory Without Shannon

Believing Shannon is dead, Rory tries to go on with his life, and finds love!

After the Homecoming

The latest stories, in progress, about what became of our heroes after Lawrence and Josephine's Yule reunion. 

Juliana

Remember Juliana, the courtesan at Trent whom Lawrence, out of character, brings home to Lawrencium, causing the queen to flee?  These apocryphal tales were actually the first ones I wrote for Ghostletters.  With the understanding that none of this could ever possibly h appen, I will present them here.  many of these stories are rated R.

A DC Detective in King Lawrence's Court

Sealwyf and I wrote these collaborative stries just for fun, about Bo Butler, a DC private investigator, and his adventures in 8th century England  after being hired by Lorin to locate and bring back the queen.  Follows the events in the Juliana story.

Other Ghostletters Stories

To read these, join Ghostletters and look back in the archives to find Shannon's lost weekend with an immortal Scotswoman, Shannon and Rory's trip to bisit vampires in 21st century France, Peter's visit to 2007 to visit his friend Tariesa in Upstate new York, and Shannon's and Peter's remarkable adventures  on Encelatus, a moon of Saturn in the 26th century much of which is also rated R.  Ain't fiction grand?!

You are welcome to express your preference for which tales we do next.

In the meantime I will take a break from posting in order to catch up on the New stories Index.

Questions, comments and other messages should be sent to hawthorne@nanhawthorne.com .

OK, fess up, who is Laura?  That, dear readers, remains a mystery I shall never solve for you.