Chapter 4: Shoreline Spotted

They finally spotted the shoreline, three hours after sunrise on the third day since spotting the cliff. The cliff itself was now many miles behind them, as the expedition’s course had been redirected far to the south in order to avoid the increasingly common shoals. The reef itself had ended about two miles before the coastline had come into sight, replaced by tiny islands and small sand bars. It was treacherous going for even the most nimble of ships and the galleons composing the fleet were large, sluggish beasts, more suited for hauling cargo over long clear seas than navigating these tight confines. He had lost another three ships on the shoals. The Dauntless and the Traveler having beached themselves upon smooth sand, would have to wait for the tide to escape. Unfortunately, the Wayward had come across a patch of rocks, scoring a deep gash across her side. It had begun to sink immediately, and there was barely enough time to save the passengers, much less salvage its cargo. Losing three vessels so near to their destination did not fill him with confidence on the chances of the next wave of colonists. The construction of the lighthouses and buoys would need to be made a higher priority.

His brooding expression gave way to a more cheerful grin as he turned his head from the two, still beached, vessels and towards the coastline. It was immersed in the same sort of eerie mist as the rest of this shrouded land had been during the morning hours, but even from this distance he could make out the verdant green of the trees. They were different to the ones back home, much broader and taller, the green of their leaves being deeper and darker.

As the ship sailed closer they could make out more features, a short and sandy beach, lined with large rocks on one side, dotted with smaller stones and seaweed. Movement being evident both on the beach and in the forest, in the form of a small colony of crabs and what seemed to be a wayward deer, respectively. The beach was at a much lower elevation than the trees in the background, clearly some indication of large tidal shifts. This would make the construction of a dock somewhat difficult, he mused. Perhaps pontoon bridges would be in order. The coastline itself looked wavy, but for now there were no indications of any manner of inlet or harbor, or more importantly a river with fresh water. It would likely take a day or two longer before they came across a suitable location to build their new home.

In the meantime, the Colonel ordered the dispatch of an exploration team to the shore. While the rest of the fleet cleared the shoals and the Dauntless and the Traveler freed themselves with the coming tide, his men would push forward and scout out their future home on foot. Hopefully they would be able to find some source of fresh water, and perhaps even catch a few samples of the New World’s native fauna. Knowledge of both of these resources would be a necessity for the long term success of the mission, and of more consequence, the survival of his men and the colonists before any reinforcements could arrive. As of yet, they had seen no sign or indication of any aggressive creatures, let alone native inhabitants. Yet, he found he couldn’t let himself relax as he pondered what might lie in wait beyond the dark leaves of this forest.

He remembered the dream, one of the few times in his life he had ever felt such pure unending terror. It was perhaps even, the greatest terror he had ever experienced. Not even when he had been near deafened at the battle of Delagne, when a cannonball had gone roaring, mere inches from his head, had he felt such pure, unadulterated fear. He had sought out a seer on the ship, that day he had experienced the dream. He was unsuccessful, his discreet inquiries finding no mention of a seer upon the ship’s passenger list nor amongst the gossiping sailors. He would have to wait until the fleet finally docked, ferrying himself back and forth for no discernable reason would accomplish nothing but worrying his men. Least of all would he burden Benson with this matter, a vague premonition, while possibly an indication of some great danger lying in wait upon their future, was not something to trouble his only aide when so much work still needed to be done. No, he would wait until he could pour over every ship’s records when they finally made their way ashore.

For now, he would have to hope that the exploration team, like himself a hardened group of veterans from the last war, would find success. The forest would likely be cumbersome terrain, but if the few animals they had sighted near the shoreline had been any indication, there would be a source of fresh water somewhere. With the supplies lost with the sinking of the Wayward, the need to secure food for the winter to come was greater than ever. He furrowed his brow, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers as he closed his eyes. This journey had been long and difficult, and seemingly would only become more arduous as they pressed forward.

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