Blood; Mahabharata Generation 3, Part 2

Finally! It's been hard getting here this week, but here's a very short Blood is Thicker than Water.

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Last time, I talked about how Pandu the king had to give up being king because he was cursed not to sleep with his wives. No heirs pretty much meant you were out of the running to be king.

BUT (there's always a but in Indian mythology)

Pandu was married to two women, one named Kunti and the other named Madri. Kunti had a gift. She could become pregnant by summoning gods to make her so. She'd even tried this out before she married Pandu, and had a son named Karna with Surya the Sun God. Remember Karna for later.

When Pandu found out he was forbidden from fathering children, Kunti told him about her ability. Pandu encouraged her to call the gods, saying that he would take the children as his own. So Kunti gave birth to Yudhisthira, whose father was Yama, the god of judgment; Bhima, whose father was Vayu the god of wind; and Arjuna, whose father was Indra, the king of the gods.

Madri asked Kunti to share the trick with her, and Madri was the mother of two twins, Nakula and Sahadeva, whose father were the Ashwins, the horsemen of the gods.

Bhisma, the great uncle of the Pandavas, the five sons of Pandu, invited Kunti and her sons to court shortly after the deaths of Pandu and Madri. Rivalries and conflicts between the Pandavas and their cousins, the Kauravas eventually led to a great war.

Mirrored from Writer Tamago.

The States of…

Writing...

Hulk Hercules: Professional Wrestler: The copy edits are back in Sonya's hands. Essentially, my job is done.

The Winter the Troll Danced with Old Nick: We keep plugging along. About 30K in. Entering the lonely dark making up new stuff zone. HIGHLIGHT: Decorah Nordic Fest is this weekend. Will take research pictures of Luther College and Norwegian culture. Will NOT eat lutefisk. Meeting up with fellow Viable Paradise author Matt Hughes and his wife.

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Mirrored from Writer Tamago.

Boy Meets Hulder

Manuel flickered the flashlight beam among the trees. The stump had moved from its customary spot. That’s where Manuel let the light beam rest.

He stamped his cold feet, and they crunched in the snow. “Don’t worry,” he said softly. “It’s just me. No one else will come out of the house this time. Did you need something?”

The stump unfolded itself. At first it was a stump, and then it was the nut brown hulder bundled into itself like a barrel. It unfolded arms, legs, and untucked a broad head on a short neck. The wild bright eyes, like an owl’s, blinked in the light, and it put up its stubby hands to block it.

Manuel lowered the flashlight at the ground. “Do you speak Spanish?” Manuel asked. He really didn’t know what a nahuale looked like, and abuela saw Mexican spirits, so he thought it should cover his bets.

The little creature scratched its flossy cloud of hair. “Spanish?” it repeated, its broad lips and flat teeth forming carefully around the word. “Spanish?”

“What I speak,” said Manuel. “I mean, right now, we’re speaking English, but I speak Spanish.”

“English,” said the hulder. “I speak what I speak, and they understand me. You understand me. Maybe I speak Spanish?”

Manuel tried a different tactic. “I’m Manuel. I’ve brought you some puerquitos. They’re like cookies.” He held out a hand with the bread. The troll inched forward cautiously, and reached up its hand. It brushed Manuel’s as it took the treat, and Manuel was surprised that its skin was soft and downy.

Crumbs fell from the hulder’s mouth as he smacked the gingerbread noisily. “Fank oo,” he said. “I like this.”

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Mirrored from Writer Tamago.