Kingdom of the Elves
Chapter 3
Matilda buzzed with excitement as the day she set sail to Skitt from the shores of Halvoy on her longboat finally arrived. Sleepless nights, borne out of anticipation and nervousness, escorted her to that fateful day. Her father surprised everyone when he named her captain of the Swift Sister — one of the largest boats in the Northmen fleet. The longboat, a fitting flagship, was crafted with meticulous detail. Built from lightweight materials, its overlapping planks were riveted together, allowing it to weather rough seas and unfavorable winds. Sixty men could row it at once, and she could carry fifty more with enough space left for cargo and supplies. As the anticipation grew, surpressing the nervousness, Matilda could almost taste the salt in the air and hear the creaking of the boat’s sturdy frame. Standing on the shores of Halvoy, she took a moment to reflect on the weight of responsibility and the adventure that awaited her beyond the horizon.
Matilda stared at her ship from the port while the men loaded it up with weapons, supplies, and some of the gifts intended for the Skittish. The air smelled of salt from Northmen Bay and the ash that settled over most of Ostenus since the loud boom everyone heard three years ago. The ash, carrying the scent of sulfur, had been blocking the sun from the sky. The climate had been much colder since, and only the glass domes ensured they could still cultivate, albeit in a smaller fashion. Matilda’s eagerness grew as she watched the ship’s hold fill with the cargo that would sustain their journey and forge alliances in Skitt.
Much of the food they sustained themselves on came through nearby raids on Elbenia and Kralsag and distant trades with Longinia and Lakhon. However, the trades were slow. Ships could sail for months, facing the constant threat of capture or sinking by pirates and the Haquese. Matilda’s frustration deepened with every raven that brought news of a lost or sunken ship. She felt a sense of helplessness, as if she was not doing enough for her people whenever the ravens delivered dark news. She wished she could go on those voyages as well, but her father would not have it. He refused to get another wife after her mother died while birthing her, leaving her as the only heir to the Halvoyish throne. She considered herself fortunate to have been born a Northman, as no other people in Ostenus allowed women to rule.
Despite being the heir, she had to earn the respect of most of the men through her deeds, particularly the disputes she settled militarily, and sometimes diplomatically, during her father’s absence right from a tender age. She did not mind paying the blood and steel price to garner respect. These experiences shaped her into a warrior princess unyielding in the face of danger. However, there were still some like Ulrik who only saw her as nothing but a piece of flesh to be taken as a wife. As she observed the men loading the ships under her command for the short voyage to Skitt and then the raid to the west, she couldn’t help but wonder how many of them wished to be her husband. Probably all of them, she concluded with a smirk. She found that she was not discomforted with being on the same ship with a lot of them.
Her father never brought up talks of betrothals or marriage. Usually, leaders and warchiefs would offer their daughters to powerful men for gold, men, or loyalty, but her father told her she was not an item to be traded off. She loved him for that and a lot more. None of the men stood out for her to desire. She had tried to consider some of her suitors, but usually decided against exploring any further after listening to them talk for a few minutes. Matilda appreciated her father’s respect for her autonomy and felt fortunate for the freedom to choose her own path.
Many of them thought she would easily accept them for their riches, armies, or handsome faces. Some even requested that she name them leader instead of royal consort. In the Northmen’s way, their requests were not unusual, but she felt they just were not what she was looking for. The constant pressure from suitors only reinforced her resoluteness to find a partner who respected her as a person rather than a position. If anyone asked, Matilda couldn’t quite articulate the kind of partner she wanted, but she was certain it was not Ulrik, whose condescending voice rudely interrupted her moment of reprieve.
“Afraid of the dangers the seas might hold now that you are about to see what actual men do all the time?” He asked.
She did not bother to face him. She knew he wore his silly smirk or stupid grin. If he acted around his crew that way, she was surprised they never attempted to mutiny. Matilda could picture herself kicking off Backbiter from behind. She smirked in her own sick, twisted manner at her wicked thought. A rebellious spark ignited within her as she entertained the thought of taking control.
Pushing him from behind on the Backbiter definitely sounds poetic, She justified.
“If anyone was afraid,” She responded, “it’d be you, Captain Frost. Afraid a mere woman is going to gain more popularity than you in one fell swoop.” Matilda could tell he was frowning at her for not regarding him with her gaze and for her snide remark. She did not care, though. He started it, and two could play the game. Memories flashed back to when he first approached her for her hand in marriage, and she had refused. She had only turned ten, and his disgusting twenty-seven-year-old brain couldn’t tell him his request was out of place. He had left angrily, remarking that he could earn the throne with or without her. The challenge lingered in the air as Matilda continued to oversee the ship’s preparations, a defiant glint in her eyes reflecting her determination to prove herself on this upcoming voyage.
“You sure sound very salty for a barely seasoned fish,” he spat. Matilda couldn’t help but smirk at his retort. “You shouldn’t belittle me so. I do not take kindly to ridicule,” he warned, his tone carrying a threat. Captain Frost’s attempt to intimidate her only fueled Matilda’s resolve.
“Do you dare threaten me, Ulrik?” she asked, addressing him directly by name. She looked over her left shoulder to glance at him through narrowed eyes. A surge of indignation and disgust welled up within her, and she could taste bile on her tongue.
Ulrik Frost said nothing. He bowed before turning abruptly, his footsteps echoing against the wooden dock as he made his way toward his longboat. Matilda observed his departure, her narrowed eyes following his every move, the palpable tension between them leaving an imprint on the dark and gloomy atmosphere.
Backbiter was big as well. She could carry eighty men, but Ulrik Frost used her mainly for trade, resulting in usually having half her capacity as a crew while the rest was laden with goods. Like Swift Sister, she had a single mast and a carpet-shaped sail, which could be lowered whenever rowing was more advantageous than sailing. The ice rune, boldly embroidered in white, adorned Backbiter’s blue sail, while the red moon graced the white sail of Swift Sister. Matilda’s gaze lingered on the distinctive symbols, each carrying its own significance in the maritime tales of the Northmen, yet remaining personal to the different captains.
All the longboats had a shallow draft that allowed them to navigate in both open sea and shallow rivers. The wide berth of the River Elbe allowed the Northmen to raid the interior parts of Elbenia, just as they harassed her coasts along the Golden Sea. The Northmen mostly raided, but the past three years saw a massive increase in trading. Elbenia and Kralsag were just as unproductive as the domains under Halvoy due to the persistent dark red clouds. Now, out of necessity, they sought to conquer and colonize foreign lands across the sea. Matilda, amidst the changing tides of strategy, couldn’t help but ponder the reasons behind this shift and the challenges it presented to her people. They had the absent sun, the long drought, and famine to worry about, along with the bolder Jasil who now rallied under the one-Jasil flag, raised by their first Khnung, ushering in an era of expansion for his once divided, nomadic, warring people.
Matilda was pleased to be part of a potential turning point for her people. Gone were the days when she would sit in her father’s seat whenever he was away on a raiding campaign. It was time for him to sit while she led the raids. She couldn’t be more excited when the captain of Kraken’s Fist, Rolf Thunder, announced that it was time for all to be aboard.
Matilda Bloodmoon smiled, her eyes burning with anticipation. Adjusting her steel crown, she strode towards her flagship. I am the storm, she thought to herself.
