After five weeks at sea Emmaline felt the land heave under her as she stepped down onto the gangplank. She made a grab for one of the pylons to steady herself, but missed. Rajav caught her by the elbow and steadied her. Markus, evidently had more experience with the phenomenon and continued to walk with his usual assurance, though Emmaline thought she could detect a trace of reserve in his gait.

"Land sickness," Rajav told her, "It will pass if you simply walk around." Emmaline grunted and continued carefully down the gangway and onto the wooden dock. The former slave had been teaching her the language of Ind during the voyage, as well as his strange stretching technique which he called 'yoga'. While he still decried her accent in the most strident terms, comparing her colorfully to all manner of wounded jungle beast, he grudgingly admitted she was making progress in both pursuits. He had even prevailed upon her to practice her sorcery, when she couldn't find more pleasurable outlets for her time, and she had constructed a small laboratory in a corner of the kitchen, to the alarm and fascination of the crew. Her study of the texts she had acquired in Araby had been interesting, but she didn't dare test many of the spells in the frequently heaving seas. Rajav hassled her less on this score when she made a show of studying, and as such she found it easier than arguing with him.

 Skeggi was an old Norscan settlement and the high peaked rooves and slightly bowed walls of many of the buildings testified to that. As did several longships and their burly looking crews. The tropical locale had forced its own concessions to the architectural style. Windowless cottages had given way to large open windows over which screens of knotty local jungle wood had been affixed in crisscross lattice patterns. Roofs that would once have been made of thatch or shingle had been replaced with layered palm fronds which had been sealed with some kind of resin that made them shine with an oily luster. Many of the warehouses were rooved in similar fashion, though the sides tended to be cages of bamboo around four corner posts rather than solid construction as an Imperial would understand it. Crates of goods lay pilled under such shelters, invariably accompanined by muscular and bored looking Norscan's who seemed to act as guards.

"Well," Emmaline said, glancing at a particularly buff specimen admiringly, "I cant say the local scenery is without interest."


"A man who is a slave to his passions is..." Rajav began but Emmaline cut him off with a glare.

"If you are going to preach, I'll have you pitched into the harbor, I have been on a ship for a month and a half for Ranald's sake," she hissed.

"You are going to throw me into the harbor?" he asked with cool amusement, planting a hand on each hip in an exaggerated stance, the doubt clear in his voice. She lifted her fingers and wiggled them.

"I've been practicing remember?"

"And if she dosen't I bloody will," Sketti grumped as he thumped down the ramp, carrying a crate of pig iron on each shoulder. A feat made more impressive by the fact it took two of the human crew to carry a single box. There was a chorus of agreement from the sweating sailors, all of whom were looking forward to booze and what female company they could find, just as soon as they were able to complete unloading. Markus had mentioned another smaller settlement further out towards the jaws of the of the broad bay which held Skeggi. Emmaline unconsciously glanced down the bay, experiencing again the eye searing green of Lustria. Emmaline had seen the Drakwald in the summer time, but it didn't hold a candle to the green of Lustria. It seemed to all by sear the eyes with its vibrant profusion. Strange trees rose in an emerald wall that screened everything more than a few feet from the shoreline. Brightly coloured birds flapped and hooted among the gigantic leaves, their color serving to emphasize the universal green. There had been some effort to clear jungle, but farming had quickly been given up. Without the loam of the rainforest, the soil was thin and unproductive. There wasn't enough space for livestock to provide manure to renew the crops and the cleared areas were largely abandoned choked with long grasses and the small saplings which scouted for the advancing jungle. Judging by bundles of strange looking fruit and root vegetables which hung the rafters of small stalls, there was a degree of gathering going on further into the jungle. The air was rich with the perfumes of strange flowers, the smell of fish from the docks, and a pervasive undertone of loam and rotting vegetation.

Emmaline gave the Norscan a wink and then followed after Markus who was already, climbing up the hill towards the center of the settlement. Smoke was rising from forges in that direction and she could sense iron being worked. Iron was in short supply in the new world, and always in demand for tools, weapons, nails and the dozens of other items necessary for running a settlement and outfitting ships. That was one of the reasons shipments like the one the Hammer was carrying fetched high prices. That wasn't to say there was no metal to be seen. As they reached the more prosperous buildings, those which had timber and even stone facings, she began to see gold, much of it worked into strange patterns and alien designs. These were always secured and guarded, and hawkers called to her as she passed, trying to interest her with tales of distant ruins which had been looted by brave adventures. The familiar tug of gold fever disoriented her for a minute. When she looked up Markus had disappeared into the crowd.