Nedris (NaNoWriMo)

Beginnings

    Another blackened barge drifted into port, it's once colourful hand painted sides were now a charred mess, riddled with scorch marks and an awful green sludge smeared up the sides. A crew set about hauling the narrowboat to the dockside, tying it off ready to assess the damage and rake through the remains.
    Ned, a young halfling woman, stood off to the side waiting for them to finish, resting her crossed arms on a shovel. Her eyes surveyed the smouldering hull in front of her, catching sight of a painted lily and half a crescent moon among the soot and algae. She crouched down and began to rub the side a little, clearing some more of the green mess with a rag from her pocket.
    "Looks like the Pondscum again," Ned said out loud. A few of the crew grabbed holy symbols from around their necks and brought them to their lips and then touched their forehead.
    "Any survivors?" Asked a well dressed, portly halfling man, handkerchief raised to his mouth daintily.
    "We'll let y'know in a tick," Ned replied as she stepped across onto the barge.
The hull was blackened but not too badly damaged, most of the blaze had run through the roof and across the sides. Still Ned took each step carefully and calculated, pushing debris away with her shovel. There should have been a family on board, a Ma, a Pa and a gaggle of kids. Plus the cargo in the hold.
    Ned pushed on, sifting the debris, placing trinkets and valuables in a side bag. Two of her compatriots had unearthed the Ma and a young one tucked in her arms from the caved in roof. Black soot smeared all round their mouths and noses. "Dammit." Thought Ned as she carried on scraping until her shovel clanged against a metal object beneath a burnt up rug. She kicked the charred fabric aside and knelt to the floor, tracing her fingers over a metal lock she had found inlaid into the wood.
    "Any keys on the Ma?" She shouted over to the two men, they shook their heads as they began to lift the deceased woman out. Ned swore under her breath. "Guess it's the old fashioned way then." Ned muttered as she got out her delicate silver lock picks, inserting them into the lock and spending a few seconds trying to catch the pin. There was a satisfying click and the halfling smirked to herself, putting the tools away safely.
    She began to lift the trap door when her ears caught the sound of something skittering beneath, definitely larger than a rat or barge cat. Ned's hands immediately gripped the dagger hung at her side, drawing the blade silently and then quickly flinging the door open with a loud crash.
    The halfling charged down the steps, yelling into the dark void, dagger in hand. She stopped, it was eerie quiet now. The skittering had ceased and beyond the creaks and groans of The Pondscum, she couldn't hear anything else. "Huh." Ned pondered aloud, her eyes adjusting to to near darkness below in the smugglers hold.
    From what she could see, there were around 20 barrells down here, maybe more further in. The cargo was intact. She breathed a sigh of relief and a pang of sadness hit her, thinking back to the young one in it's Ma's arms. What had gone on here?

    Ned slipped the intricate dagger back into its sheath and shifted her attention to the barrels. If she remembered correctly from the docket, these should be filled with fine Serienestian wine. Just as she reached the back of the hold, counting barrels as she went, she heard a small cough and the blur of movement behind the cargo.
    "Hey! Stop!" Ned shouted, redrawing her dagger, darting after the small blur. The blur was quick but stumbled as it reached the steps to the trap door. Ned took the opportunity, reaching the creature with speed, dagger outstretched, her other hand grabbing at the clothes to hold it still.
    But it wasn't a creature, it was a halfling child. A kid, smeared in soot and dirt with tear tracked cheeks and desperate eyes. Ned's dagger slipped from her grip in a clatter as she stared at the child in utter disbelief though her grip on the front of their shirt didn't falter. The kid to their credit had a vice like grip on Ned's hand, small nails digging into her skin.
    Ned took a few shaky breaths and finally said "is it just you down here?" The kid nodded. It was a boy, he looked around 8 or 9, slim build with dirty sandy coloured hair. "No one else? Pa? Sister? Brother?" The boy shook his head with a somber look. "Can you tell me what happened?"
    Ned helped the young lad up and out of the hold. They passed where his Ma and what looked to be young sister were laid out on sheets, ready to be taken off the barge. The boy made a choking sound as they went by, Ned held him close, trying her best to shield him away from the sight of it.
    "Cargo looks intact, found this one amongst it, gonna take him up top, you guys alright to continue?" Ned asked one of her comrades. He nodded and gave her a quick shoulder squeeze before heading to the hold.
    The portly halfling was still on the other side, peering into the wreckage as best he could, the handkerchief still held up to his mouth as to not breathe in the slightest bit of dirt.
    "Lambert!" Ned called out as she disembarked the barge, helping the boy across after and giving him a drink from her water skein. The well dressed man waddled over.
    "Nedris, my dear, what can you tell me? What can be salvaged? Am I ruined? Oh what a mess! Oh gracious! Where did he come from?" Lambert exclaimed as he clocked eyes on the boy.
    "The hold looks in good shape, the cargo is all there. I found him amongst the barrels, hasn't said a word yet but he looks parched. I'm gonna take him up to the healers," Ned moved in closer to Lambert. "His Ma and sister were in the wreckage," she said quietly. "They're being moved out soon." Lambert gave a curt nod.
    "Well Ugen be blessed," Lambert forced a smile towards the boy and then got even closer to Ned. "A survivor Nedris," Lambert practically hissed. "You make sure you get every piece of information from him, I want to know everything." The plump man had wrapped his sausage fingers onto Ned's red blouse, pawing at her. Ned looked down at his grip.
    "I will ask him as best I can Lambert, but if the lad doesn't want to talk, if he's in shock..." The grip tightened on her, his plump fingers finding flesh to nip.
    "You will make him talk, I know you have ways," Ned ripped her arm out of his grasp in disgust. She couldn't believe him.
    "He's a child, I will not tortu-" She stopped herself from saying it aloud. Ned picked the boy up, cradling him and began to march away, furious and muttering to herself.
    "At least find out what's happening to my boats Nedris! Nedris! Are you listening?"
    Lambert's shrill voice began to quieten as Ned walked on, away from the dockside and up the cobblestone path, the young boy slightly heavy in her arms but nothing she couldn't handle. They walked together in silence in the warm morning sun, both lost deep in their own thoughts.
    Lambert was right though, this boy was the first survivor Ned had ever heard of. Tales of barges coming back absolutely wrecked covered with thick green algae were very commonplace, that's if they ever came back at all. She had been listening to stories of the Pondscum from her Granny all her life, generation after generation having to deal with the horror of hundreds upon possibly thousands of ruined boats and lost lives.
    It was after morning meal, two hours past dawn break, the dockside was teeming with life already. She had walked on from Lambert and the wreckage, heading up towards the town, passing the dock workers, sailors, fishermen and bargemen getting on with their work. Some tipped their caps at her, recognising Ned. She nodded back and a kind dock worker offered her a trip on his cart as he was heading up that way into town.
    Ned accepted gratefully, placing the boy down on the cart and quickly getting her water skien out for him again. The child drank long and deep, how long had it been for him? How long had he been adrift on that boat?
    "What's your name?" Ned asked as they rumbled along the cobbles, she was sat up fiddling with the cap of her skien. The boy was lying down, looking up to the clear blue sky rolling by.
    "Evrard Landbeck," he said with a slight croak in his voice. "But my Pa called me Evra," Evra said with more of a crack in his small voice.
    "Pleased to meet you Evra, I'm Nedris Fairsea, but you can call me Ned." She smiled down at him, he smiled weakly back at her. "We're nearly at the healers, they'll be able to fix you up, get you back on your feet in no time. How are you feeling?" Ned probed.
    "Tired, a little hungry." Evra replied, a few tears springing to the corners of his eyes. Ned could see he was becoming distraught with thoughts of grief.
     Ned placed a hand on his shoulder and shushed the child as best she could, no comforting words coming to mind. What could she say? The poor kid had lost everything.