June, 1678, Blod Skog, AKA Blood Forest (OTL Northern Labrador)
The pair of traders were paddled along the river in heavily laden birch bark canoe. The English and Scottish trader largely kept quiet, nervous and anxious about what the future would hold. Their Thilan guides sang out a complicated series of high pitched notes that seemed muted by the surrounding trees. The English were covered in loose cotton clothes tied at the sleeves and the ankles to keep some of the mosquitoes that tormented them at bay. The Thilans wore simple kilts made from the skin of a moose calf. Their skin was smeared with black bear grease to keep the mosquitoes away, even their thick red beards were covered in grease that gave the silver ornaments hanging on them a shiny appearance.
“Do you think this will work William?” Charles asked, breaking the uneasy silence.
William nodded his head. I think so. We've done everything possible, and the stakes are big enough to take the risk.”
“But you remember what they did to the Breton party ten years ago. Only their guides were allowed to leave with their skulls.”
“Are you getting cold feet now? Its a little late to start worrying about that. Now look lively, once we get to the town any sign of weakness will get us killed. That's what the Pope Kissers did wrong,” William said firmly. “Just the two of us going shows we're brave, our gifts show we're generous, and we walk out with a deal for all the furs they can give us.”
“But what if something goes wrong?” the younger man asked.
“Then we shoot as many of them as we can and stab the rest. Easy,” he replied with a confident grin. “Now just make sure your pistols are loaded.”
They continued in silence.
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A large group of Thilan's met them that evening, they were well armed with heavy crossbows, daggers, heavy leather armour, and short, thick spears. From the looks of them they were unhappy with the two humans appearing in their territory.
The Thilan guides looked up at them calmly, no matter what happened they'd likely be allowed to leave alive. Their hands flashed in the trade signs that allowed traders, both Thilan and Skraelings to communicate around the continent.
“Greetings, warriors of the Thousand Rivers,” the guides said, as the twenty or so heavily armed warriors formed a semi-circle around them. “We come with gifts and offers of trade.”
The warriors spoke in the high pitched Thilan tongue. Neither William or Charles understood what was being said, but they took it as a hopeful sign that the weapons were still sheathed. They waited patiently to see what would happen next.
Finally the Oldest Thilan signed, “Why are the weak people here?”
William stood up and looked straight at the leader. “We wish to trade with your people. You have many things we want and we offer a fair trade,” he signed.
“You wish slaves?” the leader asked.
“No slaves. The king and Queen of our countries has forbidden it. We want furs, otter, beaver, and weasel especially. Their are also some herbs that we require,” he told them.
The leader cocked his head, twitching his eyebrows in a complicated pattern. Shaking his head quickly making the tinklers in his beard rattle he barked out a command. “Come, we will talk more at the town,” he signed.
William and Charles tried to hide their relief as the first hurdle was overcome. Grabbing their packs they followed the warriors while the guides grabbed the rest.
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The Thilan town was surrounded by a field, the traders didn't know most of the plants growing in it, they mostly appeared to be short leafy bushes and berries with little rhyme or reason to the planting. The path was covered in fine ash, and there were a number of burnt trees in the field. Some children ran through the plants, scaring away birds and playing a game of catch with a round rock the size of Charles head.
Dozens of llama's and pygmy elephants were fenced in close to the town, well away from the field. They were kept in small groups in individual corrals encircling the town. It seemed likely there were over a hundred of each type. Dogs yapped and played around them, ensuring nothing came too near.
A strong palisade rose 15 feet in the air. Skulls of animals, Thilan and some humans were placed at intervals around the palisade. The large gate was open and Thilans walked in and out on various errands. They were lightly clothed, in most cases a simple leather kilt or poncho, with bags made from bark or leather.
The leader, called To Ya yelled a greeting from the edge of the field loud enough to hurt the traders ears. An answering cry came almost instantly. A small group of guards armed in a similar manner to the warriors came out to guard the new comers. Wordlessly they marched the traders and their guides through the village.
The houses were small and packed together. They were built into the ground, the doorway being a simple stairway or ramp that led downward. Above the surface the stone walls were only a meter high, and the peaked roofs were made of pine covered in a mud and moose hair for strength. Most of the Thilans were singing as they worked. Their voices rising and falling in time with their activity. It was hard to make out any individual tune, but each job seemed to have a particular song.
Williams and Charles counted the houses and people. This town was suppose to be the largest in the Blood Woods and the council area of the Thousand Rivers Alliance, the leading group in this part of the continent. It seemed to be accurate, William made a rough estimate of 5,000 inhabitants. Many of them appeared to be away hunting, guarding distant flocks, trading and fishing but the town was still quite active. Thilans were trading dried perch from their private fish ponds for medicines. Carvings for leather. Iron for moccasins.
They didn't get a chance to investigate anything closely though, their guards made sure they kept marching to the center of the village where a large windowless building awaited them.
To Ya stopped at a small side entrance. “The Leaders are not here,” he signed. “You will wait in the rest rooms until the Leaders can come. You and your items are protected until the Leaders speak to you. Food and water will be given to you. Do not leave.”
He opened a door leading to a cell like room. With a sense of foreboding William and Charles entered the cell. Their guides didn't follow them. As the door closed they were left in complete darkness.
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More tomorrow.