[Nerindel]

Korpúlfr

Korpulfr stood before the doors of Lord Falasmir’s main audience hall, an attendant took his jacket and a dutiful guard searched his person for any concealed weapons. An unnecessary task as Kor had already been searched at the gates, but a precaution he knew that the obsessed lord would deem necessary. Once satisfied that he was unarmed the guard gestured for him to continue, telling him that Lord Falasmir was expecting him.

‘Off course he is!’ he thought bitterly, knocking on the ornately carved door and waiting for a response.

Falasmir had already kept him waiting for several hours, sending his commander-in-chief to question him extensively regarding the events of the previous evening. He quickly realised that they were looking for someone to take the blame, to appease the unrest of the lords subjects in the wake of the Gondorian’s attack, but mostly to prevent giving one of Falasmir’s ambitious rivals an excuse to question his ability to rule and procure allies with which to usurp his coveted position. If he was not careful, he would end up being their scapegoat and that he could and would not allow!
“Enter!” a booming voice beyond the doors called. Taking a deep breath and steeling himself for the task ahead, he pushed open the heavy doors and entered.

Lord Falasmir impatiently paced back and forth on his dais, but instead of the lords usual assortment of ministers and couriers there was only Wyrma and three of the guards who had be charged with the supervision of the Gondorian captain and his first mate. As he drew nearer Falasmir turned and Korpulfr’s darks eye fell on the bloodied dagger in the man’s hand, his gaze immediately shifted to the three guards and it was then that he noticed the dark heap crumbled on the floor next to them, the fourth guard! He realised swallowing hard.

He off course like many others had heard the numerous rumours of Lord Falasmir’s temper and his deadly punishments for failure, but until now, he had never witnessed them. In fact, he himself had always believed the Lord to be a little past his prime and more than a little over indulgent, as could be seen in the lord’s, corpulent figure and the amount of gold that adorned his personage. However, as Falasmir looked in his direction his suspicious dark eyes considering him, Korpulfr saw a ruthlessness that he had not before perceived, realising that he hesitated he quickly dropped to his right knee and lowered his head in show of respect that he did not feel, consciously aware that Falasmir still held the bloodied dagger in his right hand.

“You sent for me my lord.” he humbly spoke to the marbled floor.

“Yes, now on your feet I still have a few things that need clearing in my head and I warn you lad I am in no mood for lies or deceit. Do you understand?” Falasmir spoke clearly his eyes narrowing to measure his response and the dagger rose to indicate the depth of his mood.

“Yes My Lord.” Korpulfr answered simply as he slowly rose to his feet.

“These men…” Falasmir began using the bloodied dagger to point in the direction of the disgraced guards, “Tell me that you prevented them from filling out their duties to their fullest capacity by not allowing them into your home, is this true?”

“My lord it is a rule of my house that no guest may enter bearing arms, a rule that I’m sure you yourself can well appreciate my lord.” he answered without hesitation. Then turning a sharp and disgusted look on the three remaining guards he continued. “These men refused to give up their weapons even after the Gondorian’s relinquished theirs, therefore they could not be permitted to enter.”

His tone lost the hard edge that had emerged and again became passive as he turned back to face Lord Falasmir, “However I did not turn them away, they were permitted to remain in the courtyard where food and refreshment was brought to them. When the Gondorian’s requested that they wished to retire for the evening I delivered them safely back into the care of their guards.”

“And just what did you and the treacherous captain discuss I wander?” Falasmir mused aloud resuming his contemplative pacing.

“Trade mostly my Lord, myself and many of the other traders present at my table were curious as to what trade customs the Gondorians adhered too and what other things of value the people of the north had to trade. In return, we educated the Gondorians in regards to our laws and customs. We also informed them how the nomadic traders of the dessert differed slightly in their approach to such things. Then after supper there was song and storytelling as is the custom of our people; Captain Mithadan even entreated us to a tale of his own.” Korpulfr answered honestly, though he left out any mention of shape shifters, confident that the Lords men who had remained to question his household would have received roughly the same response. Falasmir’s reflective gaze and the slight nod of his head indicated that this was so.

“And at no time did you get any indication of the Captains intended treachery, nothing unusual or out of place?” Falasmir pressed.

“No, My Lord, I assure you that if I had I would have most certainly informed your guards at once. However, as it was Captain Mithadan and his First mate seemed friendly and forthwith concerning our many questions regarding trade and I had no reason to hold them with any suspicion.” Korpulfr paused for a moment as if remembering something.

“What is it, you remember something?” Falasmir pressed seeing his thoughtful repose.

“Hmm well it might be nothing, but now when I think on it, it was a might strange…”

“Well spit it out man what is it!” Falasmir snapped spraying him with saliva.

“Like I said it may be nothing, but the Captain did excuse himself on several occasions taking with him on each occasion a very large and very expensive may I add bottle of liquor. I had thought at the time that perhaps the good Captain had a bit of a drink problem, it never occurred to me that he may have been … er well… or that they….” he finished uncomfortably shifting his gaze to take in the already disgraced guards. Falasmir followed his gaze his eyes glittering with rage and dissatisfaction.

“He lie’s my lord!” Two of the guards chorused fearfully, but the third who Korpúlfr knew as Seft just glared at him contemptuously, “It is him and his dessert filth, they helped the prison…” one began pointing an accusing finger at him.

“Enough!” Falasmir bellowed before the man could continue and in two long purposeful strides, he was upon them his dagger held threateningly close to the startled guard’s throat.

“I have already had the vendors in the market questioned and they seemed to think that several of you where quite intoxicated, one even commented on the fact that one of you had trouble keeping down his supper!” he growled throwing the guard back in disgust.

Falasmir now looked between the four of them; Korpulfr did not miss the glint of suspicion in the Umbarian lord’s eyes, as he looked his way nor the tightening of his hand about the hilt of his dagger as he considered his guards. For a horrifying moment, he felt almost certain that Falasmir was just going to kill them all, when Wyrma stepped forward, placing herself behind Lord Falasmir and began whispered in his ear.

Korpulfr had completely forgotten she was there for during the entire proceedings she had said and done nothing, but now she held the infuriated lords ear. He could not hear her whispered counsels, but Lord Falasmir’s anger seemed to abate and he now looked on him contemplatively, which made him feel more uncomfortable than when the man seemed just about ready to kill them all. Finally Falasmir nodded and Wyrma left his side and made her way from the room without so much as a glance in his direction.

“It seems you hold the favour of my newest advisor,” Falasmir said, re-sheathing his dagger and looking him up and down with a cursory glance. “It is lucky for you that she seems to think that you speak the truth and that her counsels have not yet failed me!” his eyes narrowed dangerously and Korpulfr took in the silent warning they conveyed.

At that moment, Wyrma reappeared with half a dozen well-armed guards. Falasmir stepped back at her entry then addressed the armed guards. “These prisoners are to be escorted to the dungeons where I will see to their punishments personally,” he ordered, pointing in the direction of Seft and his companions. The guards hesitated looking at their lord not understanding.

“NOW!” he bellowed, “they have failed in their duties and will be punished accordingly.”

The guards immediately carried out their lord’s orders and escorted the pleading men from the room, lifting the dead body of the fourth disgraced guard and taking it with them, Kor watched them leave then turned remembering that he was not alone.

“Lady Wyrma would like a word with you before you leave master Korpulfr, if you will excuse me I have business to attend too.” He said dryly, indicating the door. He then nodding curtly to his advisor, before following after his guards.

Once Falasmir was gone, Korpulfr turned to tell Wyrma about her son and the Gondorian’s but she raised her hand to stop him. “Not here, follow me,” she whispered. Korpulfr nodded then followed the Matriarch through a secret door to the rear of Falasmir’s dais, she lead him in silence through a number of narrow passages, until they seemingly reached a dead end then bending down the woman slipped her hand in a small hole and a door sprang open. Then grinning at his obvious surprise she gesture for him to enter, closing the secret passage behind her as she followed him out into the opulent drawing room of her quarters.

“Now we can speak,” she said sitting herself down on an ornately carved ladder back chair and gesturing for him to do like wise. Taking the proffered seat, he began by telling her of Mithadan’s tale regarding the skin changer named bird and his mention of the Beornings their cousins in the north. If Wyrma was concerned or shocked by anything he told her then she did not show it, her age weathered face remained impassive and thoughtful as he continued.

“At the end of the evening Tinar decided that it would be best to follow the Gondorians to see what they were up to, I tried to dissuade him but he would not listen and before I could stop him he was gone. My own disappearance would have been noticed so I sent Hasrim to find Tinar and make sure he was alright, he does not know the dangers like we do,” He explained. Wyrma nodded then indicated for him to continue.

“Hasrim returned this morning, it seems that Captain Mithadan and His mate Airefalas did not make it back to their ship and were forced to find another route. They left the city and headed north.” At this revelation, Wyrma rose from her seat and walked towards the large bay windows that looked over the city, her hand clasped firmly behind her back.

“And my son, “she asked her back still turned to him.

“I’m sorry he took flight and Hasrim lost his trail. Hasrim is an expert in tracking but even he cannot track birds.” He replied regretfully.

There was a long silence as Wyrma stared out of the window seemingly contemplating how these new events would affect her plans, then as she turned to look north Kor saw a grin spread across her face. Not a warm or satisfied grin but an evil grin that chilled him to his very core, but as quickly as it had appeared it was gone and Wyrma turned fully to face him her face again impassive making him wonder if he had not just imagined that frightening image.

“Korpulfr you will look for the Gondorian’s and my wayward son, then continuing to extend the hand of friendship as you have done you will tell them that you have heard word of their friend and that you can take them to her. You will then lead them to our city where I will decide what is to be done.” Wyrma said returning to her seat and opening a draw in her desk.

“To the City!” Kor exclaimed a little puzzled.

Wyrma stopped what she was doing and looked up and he caught a slight hint of annoyance in her gaze. “Yes, Korpulfr to the city, they know to much of our people to be allowed to walk free at this tenuous time.”

She then returned to the draw pulling out a single leave of parchment and smoothing it out on her desk. Still Korpulfr was not content. “But what of this shape changer… this Bird?” he pressed. Wyrma again looked up and this time an amused grin traced her thin lips.

“You worry to much, Master Korpulfr, but if it will put your mind at ease I will have your father send out a search party. If this Meanwaith is truly looking for her people then she will not be to hard to locate, then perhaps your story to the Gondorians will not turn out to be a lie after all.” Then not waiting to see if he reassured she flipped open her ink well and dipped her quill into the black ink. then began to write, continuing to speak to him as she did.

“There should be two others already following the Gondorians, Mus’ad and Nizar Brothers of the Wyrm clan, you will give them this!” However, Kor was not listening he was distracted nothing about the Gondorian’s had made them seem a threat; he knew that appearances could be deceptive… but what if they were wrong and Gondor was not their enemy!

Noticing that Korpulfr was no longer listening and perhaps perceiving his doubt Wyrma spoke again this time like a mother speaking to her child. “You have not forgotten Gondors part in your people’s losses, how they stole lands that belonged to the people of the south planting the first seeds of hatred that they later blamed the Umbarian lords of planting themselves.”

Kor’s mind burned with hatred, “Yes! If not for that hatred, the Umbarians would never have allied themselves with the dark one and sought to enslave our people. They are both to blame!” he snapped bitterly all his doubt now forgotten. “They are not to be trusted liars and deceivers all!” Wyrma finished handing him the now sealed envelope.

“What of Falasmir?” Kor asked slipping the envelope into his pocket, “Let me deal with Falasmir, now go or the Gondorian’s will have almost a full day on you.”

“So it is said it will be done!” Kor replied rising and pressing his fist to his chest and dipping his head in the required sign of respect, then turning sharply he left Wyrma’s quarters and hurried back to his house.

Hasrim as perceptive as ever already had two horses packed and ready to go, However Kor insisted that he pack another for Tinar. It was early evening before they were finally ready to leave, which suited both men fine as the cooling of the searing afternoon heat would make it easier for them to travel at least until the freezing of the cold night was upon them. The desert was a harsh land but the desert people and the Maenwaith had both long ago learned how to survive, travelling was done in the cooling periods from dawn till noon and then again after dusk, the times in between where either too hot or too cold. A man could burn to death in the searing heat of the afternoon or freeze to death in the bitter cold nights if he was not careful.

With a final few parting words with Asrim who he was once again leaving in charge, he and Hasrim set off towards the place where Hasrim had last seen their quarry.