[Imladris]

Jinan swaggered down the dirt road of the outpost of the Harnen Crossing, kicking at tufts of dying weeds ( As if it could be called a road , he thought, remembering the mighty cities of Harad). Dust clung to the golden fringe that lined his scarlet sash, and his black leather boots were scuffed from hard traveling. A simple wooden bow was slung across his back, while his hand rested casually upon a gem studded dagger.

Another man passed him, paused, scrutinized him and called out eagerly, “Jinan, good friend of mine!”

The lad paused in mid-stride, and turned to looked at the man who so called out to him. He was but a few years older than Jinan, and was a shipmate upon a corsair vessel. A friend I am to you, but you are no friend of mine , he thought, resentfully remembering old rivalries of the past. A toothless smile carved itself upon Jinan’s face and he said, “How goes it with you…friend…well or ill?”

“Ill,” the corsair said glumly as he shook a leather pouch absently. The faint tinkle of coins reached Jinan’s ear.

“Monetary troubles I take it. I’ve always said you shouldn’t gamble,” Jinan said evenly, eyeing the money bag with a cocked eyebrow.

“I hear ye’re in the army,” the man said, hastily changing the subject and hooking the bag onto his belt. “I also hear rumours that you can’t fight worth beings and that you’re only in because of your father’s money,” the man added with a leer.

The smile vanished from Jinan’s face. It was true that he could not handle a dagger well, but naturally the rumours had ignored his skills with a bow and arrows. “Don’t believe everything you hear, friend,” Jinan said coldly, patting the corsair upon the shoulder. “Until we meet again.” It was the only possible way to get rid of the fellow politely.

With a farewell nod, the corsair continued on his way, leaving Jinan behind. A soft chuckle escaped him as he tossed the bag of money in his hand. Slipping the dagger back into its sheath, he whispered, “No skill with a dagger, eh? Obviously enough to relieve you of your money.” He grinned as he imagined the shock and horror when the corsair discovered his money gone and his inability to pay his debts. “Never trust to rumours, friend.”

Tossing the bag at the feet of some passing priests, Jinan made his way to the young captain of his brigade. Entering the headquarters, he paused when the captian said absently, “We’re transferring you, Jinan. There is going to be a small expedition against the Poros to drive the Gondorians away --”

The voice of the officer droned on, while Jinan’s face broke into a wide grin. An attack upon Gondor! Finally the rats would know who was master. They transferring him which naturally meant that he would be the captain of the expedition and…

“…and you will be under the command of a Lieutenant Lan’kâsh.”

Jinan’s jaw dropped slightly and he shook his head, his black hair falling into his eyes. “You mean, I’m not going to lead this attack?” he asked with a forced laugh.

“Responsibility must be earned, not given,” the captian said. “You’ll find him at the building over looking the river.”

Jinan stumbled through the door, his thoughts a surging turmoil of anger and confusion. Turning, his brows meeting in a jagged frown, he glowered at the captain’s office. Obviously the captain didn’t know quality when he saw it. With a snort, he swung upon his heel and soon found the building. Climbing the wooden balcony, he saw Lan’kâsh sipping a bit of tea and nibbling at some fruit. So this was the lieutenant who was to command him. This thin distant man who probably didn’t even know the word battle. As Jinan stared at him and Lan’kâsh lifted his eyes into those of the younger man’s, a chill passed through him.

Shaking himself, Jinan said, “I have been transferred to your authority, sir.” Putting his own thoughts of resentment behind him, he flashed a toothless smile at the man who was to be his superior officer.