[dancing spawn of ungoliant]

The thralls aboard The Fame and Fortune were growing restless. None of them knew for sure, what was about to happen, and below deck, the frustration and worried thoughts of the ship's crew materialized into merciless beating.

Rain, pain, dream, scream, cry, sigh... Die! Die would rhyme better. Breath, death... The seat next to Jagar was empty. Shivers ran through Jagar's body as he tensed up his muscles to do the work of two rowers alone.

“What in Mandos are you doing around here?”

Jagar lifted his head to see, what was going on. A sailor. "Well, that is a bizarre sight on slave deck. Unless he has ruffled the Lords' temper, and we're getting a new slave", Jagar snorted to himself. He leaned forward to hear if the man had brought any news. Wait- there was something strangely familiar with the sailor. His voice... Jagar tried to catch a better glimpse of him. He was the spitting image of... Don't be stupid! Salty water has softened your brain.

The sailor had noticed Jagar's stare and hastily strode towards him. Is it... It is! That man should be dead by now, Jagar gaped. He had heard colourful rumours of Ferethor's attempts to wreak havoc onboard, and last time he was taken away, Jagar had been sure that he wouldn't see Ferethor alive again.

“Keep quiet and listen", the man blurted out.

And before Jagar even knew, Ferethor had manoeuvred his shackles open and filled his head with something that sounded like a daring plan. Images of a wildfire, massive sails in red flames, danced in front of Jagar's eyes.

"Do you get what I’m saying?”

"Look... Ferethor", Jagar whispered, "You suggest that I take a little walk around the ship and have a drink in the Captain's cabin? I might as well ask those guards to give me a day off - it's a sure way to end up killed." A look of contempt arose upon Ferethor's face. "You disappoint me. You're as bootless as any other slave here", he hissed. "I'm just telling the truth. We stand no chance", Jagar replied calmly. "I never said that I wouldn't be up to it, though", he added with a slight grin.

Bells tolled somewhere up on the deck. "What is happening? Are we going ashore", Jagar asked peering out of the oar hole and trying to see if they were approaching a harbour. "Sounds like an alarm to me", Ferethor retorted, and with that he turned on his heels and left.