Setting Sail

A few days later, they arrived in the small fishing village of Dun Wislow on the northern coast of the main island. To Shellah’s surprise, both Jonas and Lloel agreed to go on this visit to Mundy Head. Lloel’s carriage carried them in comfort across the rolling heathered hills and moorlands of the island, and he had relatives in Wislow who were happy to host them as they made their plans for the journey. Shellah and Jonas went to the waterfront to scout for sailing canoes to rent as the others went to gather supplies.

“So you think this is a good idea?” asked Jonas, as Shellah bent to inspect a long, narrow 4-person sailing canoe for sea-worthiness.

“No, but it is more money,” she answered. “Which is why you are here, too.”

“True.” Jonas looked out onto the choppy waters and the many islands which shadowed the distance. “This is going to be a challenge in a sailing canoe. It looks… tippy.”

Shellah pointed towards the nearest large island to the east. “The hardest sailing comes right as we leave Dun Wislow and cross this channel to Lairundy Island. Then it’s fairly sheltered as we follow the inside coast of Lairundy to the marshes. From there, we paddle.”

“Through the arch, then through the chasm. No good comes from any place called a chasm.”

“We’ll just have to time it right with the tides. This is why we need a narrow boat. Remember, I once did this myself in a much smaller craft.” Shellah stepped into the canoe to check the seats and any interior storage, then unrolled the sail to inspect it. “This one’s looking alright. Feels stable. Plenty of room for gear.”

“I’m glad Lloel had a tent and most supplies at his house. He’s definitely the most excited by this expedition. What did he call it- ‘a grand lark!’” Jonas shook his head. “The old man could be insane.”

Shellah laughed a little. “He certainly is! Definite insanity.” She carefully rocked her weight back and forth in the canoe. “Yeah, we’ll be camping along Lairundy, and then on Craddoch just past the northern edge of the marsh. From there it’s a hard straight paddle to the sea stacks.”

“And after the sea stacks, it’s Mundy Head?”

“Yep, there’s a tiny hidden beach behind one of the stacks which will be our last camp. You can only approach Mundy Head in the morning when the sea is calm, the tide is out, and the winds are hitting the other side of the island. Reverse order for everything coming back. And we should plan for an extra day or two, spring weather is chancey.”

“We’re definitely missing the Wind Dancer, then,” said Jonas. “We’ll be stuck in Dun Darlow for a bit when we get back.”

“That’s Nessah’s problem,” said Shellah. “And let’s hope we don’t meet any Reavers out by Mundy. They don’t typically come into the interior passage, and there’s nothing there for them by Mundy Head itself, but the outer islands and the eastern side are all getting raided.”

After securing the boat, Shellah and Jonas met the others back at Lloel’s cousin’s house. Gear stowed in doubled oilcloth bags was piled by the entry- the tent, a week of food and supplies. Shellah added a long coil of rope. Another oilcloth wrapped their swords, including Lloel’s broadsword. “You never know about those Hogboons!” he had said when he took it down from over his mantel. A few of his books made the trip, too. Shellah thought about the available room for stowage in the sailing canoe. It was going to be stuffed. Lloel’s cousin, after a matronly diatribe about them all being crazy, added a sack of freshly baked scones to the pile.

Shellah gathered them around a rough map she had drawn of their route. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning. The crossing to Lairundy is exposed, but if we leave early before the winds and tides pick up, we’ll miss the roughest part. Be sure to bundle up! And there will be midges on the beach at Lairundy and Craddoch and through the marsh. I know a cantrip to lessen their bites, but be aware they’re around.”

“Lloel, what do we need to know about Hogboons?” asked Jonas. “And, Nessah, do we know what we’re looking for once we get on the Head? We’ll need to be in and out!”

“It’ll likely be the biggest barrow,” said Nessah. “I’ll know it when I see it.”

Lloel pulled one of his books from the pile and started to page through it. “Hogbowen are the guardian spirits of the barrows. They are linked to their mound by a token- they’ll wear one about their person and another matching token will be with the burial somewhere.”

“Kind of like guild tokens,” laughed Jonas. Shellah chuckled uneasily.

“Possibly,” continued Lloel. He showed them a page from his book with a sketch of what looked to be a long-clawed goblin-like creature. “We certainly don’t want to meet one.” The next page had an illustration of what looked to be a long-clawed scarecrow in tattered clothes. Claws were the defining theme, Shellah noted.

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“They might vary by the power of whoever was buried in the mound. The old sorcery was necessary to bind a hogboon to the barrow. Even old tribal chiefs like myself don’t get hogboons now when we pass,” said Lloel sadly.

“A shame,” said Jonas.

“Per what I’ve read, they cannot be killed, but dispelled if the barrow token can be found and cast into a bog. Which reminds me…” Lloel rooted about his cousin’s house and over her objections found a shovel and a stout gnarled old shillelagh to add to the pile.

“We might need a bigger canoe,” said Shellah.

At dawn the next morning, after some considerable packing and repacking of the canoe, they set off, Lloel in the bow, Shellah astern, Jonas and Nessah seated in the middle of the boat. As Shellah forewarned, the channel crossing was a rough sail against the winds and morning tide, but soon they were within the sheltered side of Lairundy Island. After a peaceful afternoon of sailing, they camped on Lairundy for the night. The next day they sailed past the north end of Lairundy and passed the mouth of an enormous tidal marsh early that afternoon.

“Don’t we have to go through that marsh?” asked Nessah. She had been remarkably quiet. Shellah thought she might be a little seasick and quite possibly overwhelmed by her choice to attempt this.

“We do,” said Shellah. “But we’re going to camp on West Craddoch Beach tonight.” She pointed to the next headland just to the north as she adjusted the sail. “We’ll backtrack to the marsh channel at dawn tomorrow. It’s going to be a long day of paddling before we make the next safe camp. Everyone needs to rest and get ready for that, because it’s sails down until we reach Mundy Head.”

A vivid orange sunset lit their camp on the beach. Around the bonfire Jonas and Shellah shared some of Lloel’s whisky. The smoke and Shellah’s cantrip largely kept the midges at bay. Nessah and Lloel had already settled into the tent for some sleep, the comfortable silence occasionally interrupted by the honk of a snore.

Jonas yawned. “I might join them in a moment. All that sailing and sea breeze takes a lot out of you.”

The twilight sky reddened, clouds fantastically backlit a glowing salmon pink at the horizon, the dark humps of Hoarfast Isle in the distance to the west. Some stars started to wink in the clear skies overhead. Shellah thought they had been incredibly lucky with the weather.

“Why don’t I take first watch, then? It’ll be a long day tomorrow. You head in and I’ll put the fire out in a bit.”

Jonas retired to the tent. Shellah let the fire dwindle to glowing coals, enjoying some quiet to plan their next day. Nessah hadn’t ever paddled before, and she was sure it had been a while since Jonas or Lloel had their hands on the oars. The passage through the marsh would be a gentle way for everyone to get acquainted with rowing. She started to gather the explosion of gear around their campsite to get a headstart on the chaos she was sure would greet their morning. As she picked up an empty waterskin, she heard a crackle in the beach grass behind the camp. Shellah stood to check the tent. Maybe someone went to relieve themselves in the grass. But she saw three soundly sleeping bodies inside, snug in their cloaks in the chilling evening air. As she walked behind the tent, Shellah drew her sword.

“Don’t come to the mounds, Shellah Skyfast,” a low voice creaked.

“Show yourself,” she said, raising her blade.

“If you do, your doom awaits. You will all die or be forever changed.” Shellah couldn’t see who spoke from the tall grass. A breeze rustled the dry stalks in the twilight, which eerily formed the indistinct shape of a tall man against the shifting shadows of the dunes. “Don’t let doom fall upon your house. Don’t disturb my master’s house and I won’t disturb yours.”

Shellah heard some footsteps in the sand behind her, and the soft scrape of a blade being drawn from its sheath.

“Shel, what is that?” Jonas whispered.

“I think that’s our hogboon,” she hissed back. The tall grasses waved in the wind, parting and reforming solidly into a scarecrow as it approached. Jonas swore. Spiny thistle leaves and hawthorn spikes formed its long-clawed hands, and it was clothed in a rotten old plaid. Its head was the heavy horned skull of a coastal ram. It stank of seaweed, peat and wet wool. A miasma, she thought, remembering the first riddle.

“Don’t disturb my master’s house and I won’t disturb yours,” it repeated. A strong gust of wind suddenly blew in from the sea behind, untangling the grass and disbursing the enchantment. They stood still for a long moment, staring out into the whispering beach grass and the dark dunes beyond.

“My Ma was not wrong, those things are creepy,” said Shellah after a deep breath. She resheathed her sword. “Sweet Finnah, protect us.”

“We’ve been complacent,” admitted Jonas. “Not sure why I assumed we’d be safe. I was only thinking of the Reavers.”

“Me too. Well, I won’t be able to sleep now!” They watched for a little while longer before returning to the firepit, where Shellah found the whisky. Whisky was already turning into a recurring theme for this job, and Shellah wasn’t sure that was good. She took a swig directly from the bottle anyway before handing it to Jonas. “You should head back in. I’ll get the camp cleaned up. If that thing wanted to hurt us here, I’m sure it would have done so.”

“Did you see a token on it?” Jonas asked. “Lloel said it would have a token of some sort?”

“No, I didn’t.” Shellah gazed out over the sea to the west, where the silhouette of Hoarfast Isle could still be seen in the distance. It would be a hard crossing over the whirlpools and tidal overfalls that side of the channel, but possible, if they needed to retreat.

“We’re still at least a day away from Mundy Head. These things are supposedly tied to their mounds. How powerful must this hogboon be if it can reach us here?”

Shellah sighed. “Well, we’ve got some good questions for Lloel in the morning.”