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Get your own Free Home PageWhite Quay, Military Harbour of Dol Amroth, T.A. 2960
A plank appeared from the light sloop Vinhir Queen and the harbour representative went aboard. On the quay, several Dunedain waited anxiously their relatives. Shortly after all formalities were done, the passengers, all men-at-arms, came down in a rather uncharacteristic informal march. They stood in a very happy mood, laughing and even singing. Cheers erupted from the waiting mob, some even rushed forward causing the security line to break. As always, the harbour guards just stood there, smiling upon seeing feminine arms stretching for their loved ones, parents embracing their sons and young Dunedain joking and challenging their old time friends.
Aratan stepped over the plank and scanned the crowd. From the rear a tall
Knight raised a hand and came forward. Aratan didn't wait and strode happily
towards his brother. Both Dunedain held each other for a long time.
"Aratan, it's good to see you well, brother."
"Same to you, Amdir. It's been quite a long time. How have you been these
days? And how's everyone? Hallas?"
"We are fine. Hallas is on the Prince's Citadel today. He tried to postpone
his duties to be here, but he was not allowed. You will see him at dinner,
I promise. Speaking of dinner, mother couldn't be here because she has been
overly busy preparing a great feast in your honor. Many of your friends have
been invited, brother. I keep telling mother that I ought leave for a far
post, one of these days.", he smirked.
"Liar!", joked Aratan as he punched his brother's face, "You could not stand
more than one day afar from mother's roasts."
"Ah! Ah! True. Though we can't smell it that often in the Prince's Citadel."
"And father? In Spathlin?"
"Yes. He holds the Spathlin command, now. The Prince honored him and our
family giving father the 2nd Northern Watch. Now he is able to come to Dol
Amroth every month. In fact, he is expected to, in order to report directly
to the Prince as all regional commanders do. He will be here next week, Aratan."
"Good, I've not seen him for a couple of years now."
"We don't see him much, also..."
***
Grangee barn, near Vinhir
Blanchon looked up to the loft and called out in a taunting melodic voice,
He brought his gaze down to the warriors about him, "If you wish it I can weave an enchantment to allow any of you to leap up to the loft in one mighty spring, though I'd be careful, it may try to flee while we are all in here and not out there sealing off any escape routes. There would be a delay in each person making the jump for my powers need concentration."
He strummed his bowstring at that point and sang another short verse, out of tune with the vibrating string,
He laughed his shrill laugh as he waited for any volunteers...
Talis, angered by not being swift enough to tag the creature with an arrow, scowled at the Rohirrim on the floor but said nothing. Thinking for a moment to follow the creature, the Dunadan turned once more to the feisty warrior and gestured with a smile for him to lead. Leaning on his great bow, Talis waited for the others to congregate, thinking long and hard on the origin of the voice he heard.
Leif stood up and kicked the ladder in a very mad temper.
"I'm sure I've heard this scream...", Talis said aloud.
"Do anything! Don't just stand there thinking!", burst out the
warrior. Talis's thoughts were broken and the image that was
forming in his head slipped away...
"Well done, warrior," said the tall Dunadan, shaking his head
gently. "My bow will do no good from inside here, the dark is too
deep. I shall retrace my steps to the outside to cover any possible
roof exits as Blanchon suggests." With that Talis returned to the
outside and warily circled the building commenting to the others
stood nearby, "It is on the second floor, beware the docking area!"
Leif, slinging his shield, drew forth a torch which he quickly lighted with
his flint and steel. Raising his sword he smiled sardonically, "Alright
wizard weave your spells I mean to kill this vile beast...and it seems our
companions are a little to scared to volunteer!" As he spooke he glanced at
Fletch and at the back of the retreating Talis.
"Come on Blanchon, Frostbane wants to taste of his blood and I am eager to
join battle....do what you have to do but get me up there!"
***
Chatting all the way, the two brothers left the White Quay and crossed the White City, the oldest and most respected district in Dol Amroth. The naval warriors and their families had their homes in this district, whose commerce reflected the characteristics of its dwellers. Armour smiths, wood crafters and sail makers held prosperous enterprises. The famous cartographers of Dol Amroth also favored the White City, but all those buildings seemed like small and poor huts compared to the homes of the most influential guilds of the capital. These important groups were all related with the sea and the shipping activities.
A sudden unpleasant smell punched their noses as the pair entered the Central Harbour district. Aratan and Amdir looked at a leather crafter conducting its pungent activity on a large yard. The brothers pushed a faster pace and dived through the crowded streets, packed with shipbuilding and fishing activities. Here, the most magnificent and strongest ships of Gondor were made, following the elven tradition of the White Boats. This trade was held by some of the oldest and most respectable families of Dol Amroth, that shared their secrets with no one.
After a while they were strolling happily along the large New Harbour district,
where a big share of the southern commerce was made. The brothers stopped as
soon as they reached the Awakening of the Kranken, their old favorite Inn.
Though its beds were reputedly bad, the seafood was the best in the city or
even in Belfalas.
***
Blanchon looked pleased that Leif had volunteered. He put his bony hand inside his robe and lifted out a tapering oak branch just over a foot in length. Holding the thick end he began to trace patterns in the air with it while chanting arcane words of power. At first his voice was shrill but grew deeper in tone as he spoke. He stopped chanting suddenly and closed his eyes. As his white hair began standing on end he opened his eyes, a fiery orange glow flickering briefly in them before he pointed the branch at the Rohirrim and hissed a single indistinct word. As his hair settled down and his odd coloured eyes returned to their normal hue he spoke hoarsely, "The power of the enchantment is now within you Leif of the Riddermark. Jump for Edoras and for glory now or the spell will be lost!"
Leif grinned and walked back a little. He ran forward and jumped upwards...as he did he yelled... "You better be right wizard or I'll take your neck instead of this fiends! For Edoras!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
The elf looked at the others, "Anyone else? Be not afraid." His slender fingers
caressed his jutting chin...
***
A Dunadan navy soldier entered the Awakening of the Kranken and rolled his
eyes through the patrons.
"Captain Aratan Valandur?"
"I am. And who addresses me?", Aratan replied with a fast glance before
smashing a crab's leg.
"Morgai, courier of Admiral Camlin. I have an urgent message for you."
The brothers looked at each other.
"Morgai, my brother has just arrived. Can't you leave him alone just for
a few days?"
"I'm sorry, sir. We lack in numbers, these days. But I am a simple navy
courier, I do not meddle with my superior intentions..."
"No criticism intended, sailor. But, how did you find us so quick, anyway?"
"That Knight was sent with me, sir."
Both brothers turned around and looked at an imposing figure at the door.
"Hallas!", Aratan cheered. The elder brother broke his traditional grave
posture and gave him a warm and playful pat.
"I knew I would find both of you here...", he smirked, loosing a conniving
look.
"Indeed! And now the party is complete! Come, join us."
"It's better we get along, as you won't have much time to spare, Aratan."
"What is this all?", the youngest brother seemed a little upset.
"I know nothing about navy affairs.", Hallas replied. "My mission was just
to locate you."
"As far as I know, you will have to report tomorrow at mid-afternoon, sir.",
added Morgai.
"Then I have some time. I will open the message tomorrow. The navy owns me
that much, at least."
"Indeed, sir. Your good services have been noticed. That's why they will be
calling you always."
"I wish I were a simple courier..."
Morgai laughed and left the inn.
Soon the three brothers were climbing the sloping streets of the fair capital
of Belfalas, chatting warmly all the way to the Old Town district where their
family manor stood.
***
As soon as the bold warrior landed his foots on the upper level he became astonished with the image that his own torch light opened to his eyes.
In front of him stood the tall and slim creature, longsword quickly brought ready in a defensive position. His left hand stood open and stretched to the newcomer, as if he was holding an invisible wall. But the strange surprise was what stood on top of his head. What it seemed to be the curled hair of the creature was in fact a small, furry beast. He seemed to have intelligent cat-like eyes that strongly reflected the warrior's torchligh and looked to Leif as if studying him.
The small creature was holding his short legs hard around the tall being's
neck and aiming a bow that could be taller than him at Leif.
"Well, well," laughs Leif..."Two foes to face! be careful with that bow
furry beast you might hurt yourself!"
The tall being remained still, unchallenged.
Leif brought up 'frostbane' and held it ready in a combat stance.
The creature responded with a very fast swing and returned to his
former battle position.
"Ready to have at it?...creatures!" he yells..."Or are you going to run
again?"
Leif paused for a few seconds to study the creatures.
The creature started to mumble something, his eyes fixed on Leif's,
"Ogacr ard tarak fuido...". On his open hand, small blue lightnings started
to jump from the tips of his fingers onto the palm. A blue light grew on it.
Worried, Leif took a few steps forward and held Frostbane in threatening
moves but without further intentions.
As the warrior advanced the tall being feinted and easily avoided the
warrior's careful advances. As he moved from side to side the blue light dimmed
but shortly it begun to grow stronger than before...
Leif scalp started to raise as he realized that the pair could be a real threat.
With a fast movement, the Rohirrim brought the torch forward, making a
"woosh" sound that threw the pair a few steps behind.
The small creature seemed to stare nervously at the light, but the tall being did not even flicked and kept his concentration. The blue light became so intense that it reflect long and distorted shadows on the walls
Throwing caution to the wind, Leif screamed and charged.
"Take that you fiend!", he shouted as he threw his torch toward the smaller
creature.
As the torch went flying, the tall creature bent quickly, shaking his furry companion hard. The creature managed to hold on but lost his opportunity to loose his shaft.
Summoning all his strength, Leif hacked at the hand where the blue light was glowing! But the other being was not caught unprepared and before Leif could score a hit, a blue light beam left his palm with a shriek. Suddenly, Leif's own weapon staggered, as if by its own will. As if it were afraid.
The blue light started to envelop Frostbane from the tip to the hilt. The warrior had stopped his assault and looked doubtfully at his weapon. It seemed unwilling to obey his muscles, like if it had turned into a very heavy blade.
The tall creature grinned and closed the gap between the contenders, sensing the confusion on his opponent. But Frostbane was not a common weapon. It fought the blue light with an inner strength that made the tall being spill a silent and surprised yell. He traced a few paces back hesitantly, as the warrior started to slowly lift Frostbane once more with a vigorous look stamped on his face. In that moment an arrow left the bow of the furry being and hit Leif's shield arm deeply. With a scream of pain Leif felt the metal tip burning his bone, but still managed to parry a vicious thrust of the tall creature's dark sword that had been quick to seize the opportunity.
Red blood dipped down from Leif's left arm, now useless. The warrior retreated defensively and parried once more a masterful swing. The tall creature started to trade some shy blows as he danced around Leif. Just once he made a real try to hit the warrior but without consequence.
Grabbing all his strengths, Leif drove a mighty thrust with Frostbane aimed at the slim creature's neck. But his opponent was too quick and feinted the blow. The furry creature fell onto the floor with an ugly groan and went rolling to Leif's right.
The tall creature reappeared at Leif's left flank and the black blade found its mark on the warrior's shoulder, above where the broken shaft was hanging. An intense fire traveled through Leif's spine but he managed to hold his spirits. Frostbane urged his master and he followed it. The sword hit the creature before he could strike again, cutting through rags and flesh. The tall creature seemed surprised and quickly moved back. Now the two contenders stood in front of each other, wounded and quickly becoming tired.
Although the tall creature's boldness had been placated and he looked unsure, Leif looked no better. The pain climbed his body and he had to make a great effort to stand conscious. The tall creature seeing the warrior with his defenses down rushed forward, weapon high for a last strike. Behind him, the small being screamed as he saw that the hay had got on fire around the torch and went fleeing to the farthest corner. With a tremendous effort, Leif took advantage of this distraction and rocked to his left side when the dark sword came dangerously near. The tall creature fumbled, running past the warrior.
Leif turned around and his red hair reflected the growing flames that he
could sense on his cheeks, now. Mists started to form in front of Leif's eyes, although the noble kept standing,
Frostbane still in his hand. But he knew he was near exhaustion. The tall one
had fallen and laid on the floor near the ledge overlooking the docking area.
He was starting to get up, but seemed to be balancing precariously with a wound
on the ribs bleeding profusely.
***
Aratan left his chair and walked to the window. From its high position he
had a magnificent view of the beautiful city and its three harbours. Several
water courses fell to the harbours after irrigating hundreds of small and well
kept gardens. Lots of springs contributed to give a fresh look to the city.
The most important of those streams were the natural frontiers of each city
district.
"Well, captain?", asked an elder Dunadan behind a heavy desk of the purest
dark oak of Mirkwood.
"It seems it won't be this time that I'll see my father..."
"You know that I'm calling for a volunteer, Valandur."
"I understand, admiral."
"So?"
Aratan turned to his superior, "When shall I leave?".
"Your eyes betray your professionalism, captain. Remember that you are facing
a long mission. You may not return for a while."
"I just need a couple of days."
"The Ice Dragon won't be ready before a week is done. This is not a routine
patrol."
"And what squads will I have?"
"Not much, as we have lots of troubles patrolling our coast, as you know.
But they are experienced men. You'll have the Cambeleg and the Cudin squads
under you, captain."
"I know the Strong Hands well, Admiral. They can be counted among the top
of our marine shock elite. Good Dunedain of old."
"Indeed."
"But who are these Cudin men?"
"The Silent Bows are based in Linhir. They had seen a lot of action, also.
But they keep a low profile, since their job demands stealth. Unlike the
Cambeleg, they have limited melee skills. But as you will find, they are
superior archers and move well and silently in all terrain's types. They
can put up some nasty tricks if you get cornered."
"Dunedain?"
"No. Common men recruited from the toughest casts of Linhir."
"You mean outlaws..."
"If you wish..."
"Just what I needed."
The admiral smirked. For some time the grasps of a silver quill filled the
room. Aratan sensed his fate being sealed with that simple set of strokes.
Camlin closed the letter and put his own seal before handing it to Aratan.
"Very well, captain. Here are your orders. But forget them for the next few
days. I wish you a good stay in Dol Amroth."
"Thank you, sir.", Aratan resumed a more formal posture. With a salute, he
strode through the large and richly decorated office. A particularly beautiful
wall painting called his attention. It portrayed a big white boat under a heavy
sky. A small but sturdy caravel followed the white boat."
"Sauron's Spit and the Ice Dragon.", informed Admiral Camlin.
"Sauron's Spit?", Aratan frowned. The name was not completely strange. He
stepped to the painting.
"Lost in South Belagaer, ten years ago. It was boarded three times by Corsairs,
and three times it stood. We lost contact thereafter. It was an imposing ship."
"It seems..."
Admiral Camlin resumed his writings and Aratan opened the door. Before shutting
it, Camlin called once more.
"Captain!"
"Sir?"
"I heard about your party yesterday. And I know you made some public promises."
"I wish I had read your message before the dinner, sir."
"Lady Nemar will be upset with your decision."
"I just need this week, admiral."
***
Strange lights came back and forth on the Leif's eyes. Everything around seemed to spin. Leif dropped to his knees and held his shoulder. The warrior's hand turned red with his own blood and he fully realized his situation. In an instinctive jump, the Rohirrim threw himself against the tall creature that had managed to get up. Both contenders fell over the ledge and landed with a hard 'thump' on the floor, five meters below. Behind the growing fire, a scream of despair left the small furry being.
The tall creature had fallen under the warrior and instantly passed out without a
sound. For Leif, all started to become dark. His blurred vision got the glimpse
of the dark blade at his side. He tried to grab it but it seemed to be melting!
Slowly turning into dark water, it disappeared without a trace in the earthen soil.
***
The fire swept the upper level and started to rain on the companions. Huge balls
of burning hay fell among them and a sudden shake alerted for imminent collapse.
"The hay is dry. The fire will spread quickly as orcs did on old Arnor! We must
move out!", shouted Fletch over the growing sounds of fire.
Suddenly a scream was heard and what it seemed to be another burning hay ball
jumped over them and run to the door. The small creature looked hesitant for a
second as he saw Bogas, held by Benil, but did not stop. Instead, he rushed
through the door screaming even more. But Bogas's attention did not paused
on the small furry being for more than an instant. He kept barking furiously
at the two fallen bodies.
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