~~The Ambitious Corsair~~
Part V
Gimilthôr and his crew held the town in Belfalas for three days, during which they had gathered everything of value; from the households they took clay pots filled with coin and fine silk, and from the armoury they gathered weapons and armour and whatever iron-wrought tools they could find, for iron was a rare commodity down South. Among their captives they took the strongest of men and the most beautiful of women as slaves to be sold.
The first day, Gimilthôr told the captain of the Gondorian horsemen that he desired payment for their captives. If he would return with the agreed upon amount, the corsairs would return to their ship without bloodshed, but should he return with men to retake the town by force, Gimilthôr promised him that they would pay for it with the blood of all the captives; men, women and children.
The second day lasted seemingly a century, for there were no horsemen to be seen in miles about the town, and some men started to think that the Gondorians were scheming to come back on their bargain, and they were restless.
But upon the morning of the third day, at high tide, the horsemen returned with their captain at the helm, and with them they carried a cart of lidless barrels, and upon seeing the glint of gold drawn from the beams of the morning sun Gimilthôr knew he held victory.
That same day they made for their ship with all their spoils, and they took with them the captives to make sure that they would be unhindered. But as promised, Gimilthôr set them free ere they set sail, and the Gondorian knights watched them go, though they cursed them as they went.
There was a great feast that night aboard the ship, and it continued well into the morning. When they made port at Umbar, the corsairs each went their own way to spend their earnings on all manner of debauchery. But Gimilthôr, the zealous man he is, turned to the visions in the fire, deciding upon his next move. For the last raid had made him ache for more; he wanted to gain a permanent foothold in Belfalas. But that would require more men and more ships. Hence, he tried to pay the allegiance of other captains, but none would heed his call, and some turned to mockery, calling him Bên-Bênî. This much angered Gimilthôr, who quite unwilling became the laughingstock of Umbar.
He then decided to take matters into his own hands. If he could not take a town by force, he would corrupt it from the inside. He drew up a plan and readied his men, but they were not pleased with their new reputation, nor with their captain’s plan, for sneaking was not in their nature; and they whispered words of betrayal. Yet Gimilthôr was all but unaware, for his eyes were set once again upon the horizon.
Alas for Gimilthôr, as when they were halfway through their journey northward, an unnatural storm came from the East and swept their ship off course. Even the Azruzagar, mighty as it cleaved rough seas, could not stand the powers at work that day; and so the ship came battered and bruised out of the storm into the open sea, far more westward than they needed to be.
When Gimilthôr ordered the replacement of broken wood, the crewmen disobeyed and turned on him. They knocked him firmly on the head and threw him overboard, thinking to be rid of him for good. But fate decided Gimilthôr was to wash ashore on a small forested island some hundred miles west from the cape of Andrast. There he cursed his treacherous crew, but could not yet vow his vengeance, for there he was all alone, with little to feed him and only the shade of trees to comfort him.
