Marylou and the Golden Circlet

It was time to go to the Port of Pouteau, and Marylou did not want to go overland. The journey would be too long, and too full of unknown variables to make the trip by foot, and so she would take her boat. Traveling by river had its own dangers to be sure. The current was very strong, and a regular person would be swept away into the future, at the mercy of fate. But Marylou had three things that enabled her to go anywhere in time along the river. The first was a golden circlet, passed down through the family for generations. The second was a map, and the third, a boat. Her father hadn't had any of these things on the day the river carried him away.
It was a simple boat, a glorified rowboat really. She climbed in early on a February morning, placing her map and sword carefully in the bow, along with things for trade. On her head she wore the golden circlet. Hartmut and Troybilt came down to the shore to see her off. The fog hung over the swift grey water, and the sky crept to life above them. They bid her farewell, wrapping themselves tightly in their patchwork shawls. Marylou sat straight, her strong arms rowing, her brow softly glowing.
“Bring back something sweet!” shouted Hartmut, but Marylou did not hear. The river had already taken her.
It wasn't long before she reached the Port of Pouteau. She docked her boat on the pier and pulled off her jacket. The sun had long burned away any mist. It beat purposefully, grass growing weather. Marylou went directly to the Market, the place to trade goods. She had with her a few interesting things that her two younger sisters had pulled out of the river, things from who knows what time. A men's hat, a pocketbook full of pens and sodden cough drops, and best of all, a large pair of black rubber boots. They would bring a high price.