[Child of the 7th Age]

****Harad/Umbar****

Under cover of night, Urken had managed to sail north of the pirate vessel and lay hidden as they had agreed. Now, at the appointed hour, he swiftly turned his ship about and brought it down the river, intending to pen in the pirates with no hope of escape.

As he rounded the bend in the river, an amazing sight greeted his eyes. It was one he devoutly hoped he would never see again. He had a clear line of vision to the two ships. They stood and faced one another. The broad frame of Fuinur's ship was directly exposed to the Corsairs. A barrage of arrows and flaming oil barrels were falling onto the deck of the vessel.

This was not supposed to happen! Urken had assumed that they would be victorious against the pirates. He could then present himself to the men of the town as the saviour of Gondor.

Urken ground his teeth. He was a man of Umbar. The love of ships and the sea was bred into his bones. He had been around ships and conducting skirmishes on the water at last since the age of 15.

These lumbering kings of Harad had about as much understanding of naval tactics as his old Aunt Ungit! Fuinur should have had the good sense to angle his vessel so that the whole broadside of the ship would not be exposed to enemy fire. Urken howled in frustration. Herumir was useless and drunk half the time, but he'd expected better things from Fuinur. Ah, what could you do with these lovers of land who only wished to roam their coffee plantations from the back of an oliphaunt?

If truth be told, Urken hated oliphaunts. They were necessary military tools to him. That was all. But a lovely, glistening ship--that was another story. Urken had far more love for ships than men and hated to see one abused through ignorance as Fuinur was doing.

Within a single instant, things went from bad to worse. Fuinur casually loaded his catapault and aimed right at his own masthead. Urken put his head into his hands and moaned. How was he ever going to accomplish his stated task when he had a group of incompetents travelling with him?

Urken looked at the stern of his vessel. There, right behind them, were two ships from the port of Pelargir which had been sent down to fight the pirates. They had come in response to the message he himself had sent to the mayor by pigeon. At least, the three ships would not have any trouble quelling their enemy.

However, to Urken's consternation, the sailors from Gondor had gathered on deck and were pointing fingers in the direction of Fuinur and his misaimed catapault. They were holding their sides and laughing. Urken had a devout desire to sink into the river and never be seen again.

With the three ships working in tandem, they had little trouble surrounding the Corsairs and forcing them to surrender. Actually, they refused to surrender, but did abandon ship. The sailors plunged off the side rail and disappeared into the night.

At least the ship itself was preserved intact! The same could not be said for Fuinur's vessel. The main mast had been so injured by the catapault blow that it would take many weeks of repairs to salvage the ship.

Urken scowled when he saw that. Now what were they going to do? How were they going to get to Minas Anor? He'd think about it later.

But at least one part of his plan seemed to be working. After bring the skirmish to a successful conclusion, the captains of the ships from Gondor asked Urken and the kings to lay into port and come visit with the mayor of Pelargir. They agreed. Fuinur was in quite bad shape and had to be supported by his men. When the mayor saw his miserable plight, he offered to have him sent to the local house of healing.

Urken managed to keep an impassive face, but between gritted teeth he muttered to himself: "Healing? I would rather send him to his execution, if truth be told."

However, in the interests of diplomacy, he politely agreed. Fuinur was bundled into a cart and carried away to the healers.

The mayor provided him and his men with pleasant accomodations, and it was agreed that they spend the night. They would meet later in the mayor's hall for a feast given in their honor. Mayor Elhorn was truly thankful that Urken had managed to send the pigeon out and warn them of the impending raid. He seemed willing to forgive Fuinur's vessel for acting so incompetently. Urken shook hands with Elhorn, and the two men agreed to talk further at their dinner.

[ October 18, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]