Welcome to Boraeia

After another day and night of peaceful sailing east on the Shieling Sea, the rugged, forested coastline of Boraeia came into view. Most of the company rested for that journey, Nessah restoring her power through some combination of incantations and sunbathing, Lloel and Jonas napping off and on when they weren't fishing. Even though they enjoyed excellent weather for springtime in the Shieling Sea, Shellah admitted their boat was going to need some improvements if they were going to be aboard it for any length of time. Reavers were berserkers who did not care about being exposed to the elements or getting rained on for extended periods. This ship was basically an open bucket, if a sleek and performant bucket, with simple benches and raised decking on either end. Once they were in port in Boraeia, she would have to think about how to make the ship more livable.

Shellah also did not know where they were on the coastline. She was not a trained open sea navigator. She assumed they were north of the Boraeian River. Boraeia was sparsely populated by the nomadic Ice Peoples, a loose conglomeration of tribes who shared a language, but that was about it. Any of the Ice Folk who journeyed to Northport or Dun Darlow had been remarkably different from one another in dress and custom. She also could not remember the name of the main town at the mouth of the river, and hoped Lloel knew it. Her main plan was to anchor off the coast as soon as they saw any sort of larger settlement, hop in the much less threatening canoe, paddle in and ask for directions. Also, to buy or barter for food, since they were running low.

Early that afternoon, Shellah spotted some campfire smoke near one of the coves along the coast. She and Lloel paddled to shore, bearing some coins and an extra plaid to trade. She left her sword behind, but tucked a dagger into her belt, just in case. After finding a sandy spot for the canoe, they disembarked and searched for a trail in the woods to where they could smell the fires.

“Lloel, do you speak the Ice People’s tongue?” she asked as they approached.

“A little,” he confirmed. “Many of them also speak the trade language, too.”

After climbing a small rise, they approached a clearing where a couple of tall felt tents were pitched. Some hides were stretched on frames to tan. Small children ran about the fires, where something which smelled delicious was cooking. A tall woman approached them, scolding them in a language Shellah did not understand. She wore the traditional embroidered hide coat and full red skirts of her people, black hair braided into a crown under her shell and beaded headdress.

“Hello!” called out Lloel. He smiled broadly at the Ice woman, who immediately stopped and warily smiled back. Shellah was going to let him do the talking, as, she admitted, Lloel had a certain amount of kindly old man charm.

“Reavers?” the woman asked, pointing at them, and at their anchored ship in turn. Even though their camp was hidden in the forest, it had a clear view of the cove from where it was set up atop the hillock.

“Oh! No!” exclaimed Lloel. “We’re from the Shielings!” He gestured at his own and Shellah’s plaid cloaks. “We, uh, borrowed that ship after they captured us.” The woman stared at them skeptically. “We’re trying to find Inartikuk.” A small crowd started to gather about the camp.

“They’re not Reavers,” the woman said to her tribe, waving them away. The others returned to their business. “Inartikuk is less than a day’s paddling south by the water, likely faster in your bigger sailboat.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

After a few moments to note some clearer on-shore landmarks for the journey south, the Ice woman gave them some little loaves of fresh bread and some spring berries to send them on their way. Hospitality was sacred across the peoples of the north, and as in the Shielings, strangers were considered auspicious. Shellah left the new plaid cloth as a thank you.

“That wasn't so bad!” said Lloel as they returned to the shore.

“I think we were lucky they didn’t have any warriors about,” said Shellah. “Maybe all the men were inland, hunting. We will get challenged for having this boat.” She looked about, in case there was a hostile greeting party nearby. She didn’t see or hear anything, and their canoe looked intact.

“But you still want it? This is a big responsibility, Miss Skyfast,” said Lloel as they paddled their way back to their ship.

“Yeah,” she said. “But I will need to find a way to make it less threatening. And, it makes whatever this thing we’re doing for Nessah that much easier. I’m hoping there’s a good payout for that work in the end.” Shellah took a deep breath and rearranged her seat for additional comfort in the canoe. “Lloel, this is probably my last season as a swordsman. With this knee I’m likely not to recertify for the guild, and I’m not ready to sit in a little room and spin and knit socks all day. I sense this ship is my next plan, somehow.” She looked across the calm water at the Reaver boat and its elegant reflection, and felt a little flutter in her chest. “This is my big magic. I will find a way to make it work.”

After sharing the food with Jonas and Nessah, they returned to their journey southward. With the assistance of a following breeze, the broad river delta and lights of the small city of Inartikuk appeared just after sunset. Shellah dropped the anchor in a cove just to the north, so they could canoe into town at dawn.

“Shel, Shel,” Shellah felt someone pushing at her shoulder to wake her. Jonas, who had the early morning watch. “We’ve got company.”

Shellah rolled off her bench and grabbed her sword from beneath. She heard some quiet splashes of paddles not far away, not quite visible in the pre-dawn light. At least an arrow’s distance away, she guessed. She poked at Nessah and Lloel to wake them, motioning them to keep silent and lay low on the deck under their benches. She rolled a few Reaver shields in place to further protect them. Jonas was armed and ready.

“How many, you think?” she asked. She put down her sword for a moment to pull up the anchor as silently as she could.

“At least one canoe,” he whispered.

“Well, let’s make them work for it.” They sat at the oars and started to pull them out of the cove. Some shouts came from the water. Once some forward momentum happened beneath the ship, she quickly pulled up the sail to catch the wind, and the ship leapt forward into the waves. A couple of arrows bounced off the stout hull.

The sun rose from behind the hills. Shellah could see three canoes of Ice People, a couple hunters shakily balanced as they stood to fire their bows. They were powerful archers… on land. One shook their fist as they sped away.

She risked standing for a moment. “We’re not Reavers!!!” she shouted, waving around her plaid cloak. “Shielings!” She heard some confused responses from the canoes.

“I have a crazy idea,” said Jonas. “Let’s just sail into port, like regular sailors do. If we don’t behave like Reavers, maybe people will just understand that. We certainly don’t look like Reavers. And then maybe you can get a flag there or something to mark this boat as friendly.”

“Let’s try it,” she agreed as she adjusted the tiller. “Lloel, Nessah, stay low, though. We’re going to cruise into Inartikuk like normal people. And I like that flag idea- very smart!”

“I’m a smart guy,” said Jonas, sheathing his sword. “And let’s not talk about any grave robbing, weird runes, or sea monsters when we’re in port?”

“We’ll get a plausible story together,” said Nessah. “Lloel, time for some final planning.”