The stormy, melancholic city of Lond Cirion at the mouth of Langorduin in Anfalas was swept by a strong southern gale from the Bay of Belfalas. Heavy winds blew against the sturdy, monolithic Keep of Lond Cirion in the center of the city. The rhythm of the sea wind carried the salty scent of fishermen’s nets and the bustling sounds of merchants at the lively market.
The wind could not penetrate inside the large, old-fashioned, three-story inn called The Brew and Bounty. The warmth of the hearth in The Brew and Bounty was matched only by the lively hum of conversation, as travelers and locals alike shared tales of the sea and distant lands. The air carried the faint, comforting aroma of freshly baked bread and spiced ale, mingling with the sound of a fiddle that played softly in the corner. Outside, Lond Cirion’s streets were damp from recent rain, glistening in the dim lamplight as the stormy sky lingered above the bustling port city.
Captain Fangnir was just as massive and calm as Lond Cirion itself as he sat at his regular table at the back of the common room and looked pensively at his serving of slow-cooked lamb and parsnips. Whenever Captain Fangnir was in Lond Cition, nobody else was allowed to sit in his quiet corner. Captain Fangnir was accustomed to exclusive favors.
A thickset waitress poured him another mug of spiced ale infused with cinnamon and cloves. He had emptied his first mug while waiting for his meal, and now he sipped the amber beverage before tasting the food. Captain Fangnir was a prudent, deliberative man, a man who savored each moment as if they were all equally precious.
Captain Fangnir was not exactly fat, but he was stout and thickset in the manner of Western Gondorians. He was bulky, his shoulders were wide and round and he had quite a paunch belly. His eyebrows were dark brown and thick, his cheeks were round but not bulging. His small, calm eyes were as blue as the Bay of Belfalas in the summer. His hands were quite small for his size, and his ears were surprisingly small for such a large face. The remains of his balding dark brown hair he had combed straight back, carrying his beginning baldness with dignity and grace. His skin was pale around the year in spite of the sunny Gondorian climate, and the dark blue tones he favored in his clothing emphasized the lack of color on his skin. The freckles on the bridge of his nose demonstrated his propensity to get sunburned easily.
Captain Fangnir took his knife and fork and meticulously cut himself a slice of the lamb and shoved it on the pile of parsnips. Slowly and carefully he lifted the piece of lamb to his plump lips and swallowed it.
Fangnir was very aware of the other customer in another corner of the common room. The customer was keeping a close eye on him. Radon, a traveling merchant originally from Lamedon, always waited a while before approaching him. As if anyone would tail him, Captain Fangnir, in his own city! Fangnir had made a humorous remark about it once, but Radon had no sense of humor.
Radon was wearing a dark hooded cloak made of thick wool. Finally he seemed to be satisfied, stood up, walked to Fangnir and sat down opposite to him.
”The next ship will arrive at the Ethir Anduin in about a week, Captain Fangnir”, Radon said, getting straight to the point.
”No good morning or good afternoon?” Fangnir asked with a slice of lamb on a fork, holding his knife like a weapon, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth. ”Some courtesy, some manners?”
”I try to keep these meetings as brief as possible”, Radon said, frowning. This man would not make a fool out of him. ”It is safer for the both of us that way. The ship has Haradrim slaves in its cargo hold from its raids to the villages by the river Harnen, but they are not its only cargo.”
Fangnir shoved the piece of lamb and started chewing on it, slowly and deliberately, and then swallowed. ”Gold? Silver? Jewelry? Spices? Silk?” he queried.
”As much as you can expect, but also a ten-year old boy. You ’liberated’ his mother two years ago and brought her to Pelargir. The time has come to reunite the mother with her son.”
”Where have they kept him all this time?”
”How should I know? In some dungeon in Umbar, I presume.”
”Such savage people”, Fangnir said. ”To do that to a young boy. Anything else I should know about?”
”Yes. There will also be another ’impressed’ on board. Probably another mother, because mothers will do anything for their children. They always try to find mothers if they can, but you will easily find out which of them she or he is. The hostage will be transported to Umbar. You will have to explain the terms to the impressed one as usual. They are the same as always.”
”Right.” Fangnir smiled. ”Do you suppose there will be pretty Haradrim girls among the slaves?”
Radon did not reply.
”I was merely joking”, Fangnir said.
”Do you see this as a joke?”
Now it was Captain Fangnir’s turn to frown. Radon was a dull man. He had no perception, no imagination, no sense of humor and no vision. Those deficiencies in his characted made him a good tool but boring company. Fangnir took up his knife again and cut a parsnip in pieces.
Radon took Fangnir’s silence as a sign that his rebuke had been effective. He continued: ”The Corsair crew and captain don’t know anything about the… arrangement, of course. As far as they know, they are supposed to go raid the shores of Gondor for more slaves and riches and then return to Umbar with their loot.”
”How many men? How are they armed?”
”Many of them will fight to death, since they know they will most likely be hanged in Pelargir if they are captured alive. But they will be of no match to your Aeartur and her valiant crew. The most important thing is that the boy and the impressed one will get to Pelargir unharmed. This arrangement works only as long as the impressed can trust that they will see their loved ones again once their time of service is up.”
”And you estimate that they will arrive at the Mouths of Anduin in a week?”
”About that time, yes.”
”Have a meal on my treat, please. Do you think the impressed one will be young and pretty?”
”Is there something else?” Radon asked coldly.
”I don’t touch the merchandise.” Irritation flamed on Fangnir’s neck. ”Neither do any of my crew. You should know this. I am just trying to make conversation.”
”It was not my intention to offend.”
”I think it was exactly your intention.”
There was a moment of awkward silence. Then Radon said: ”There is something else. Another ship is planned to be sent to the shores of Gondor a few weeks from now. I will personally come to Pelargir to inform you when I know more details.”
”A few weeks? I am not sure how I can justify such a long stay in Pelargir to the harbormaster or my crew.”
”Perhaps you can claim that you need to recruit more crew to replace those who were killed or wounded in the battle against the Corsairs?”
This was intolerable. For the first time Captain Fangnir allowed his emotions to show on his plump features. His small, calm eyes turned agitated. His left hand began to tremble. Of course Radon had intended to offend him. He was mocking Captain Fangnir!
”Just who do you think I am?” Fangnir asked slowly, in a threatening tone. ”I am Captain Fangnir of the Aeartur! I do not suffer heavy losses in my battles against the Corsairs! Or were you lying to me – is there a whole fleet waiting for me? I did not think so. How do you suppose I would look like if I told my crew that we have to spend weeks in Pelargir to gather more crew when most of them are just fine? Do you consider me an idiot?”
”It did not occur to me, please forgive me, Captain…”
”No. You will not ask for my forgiveness. I told you…” Fangnir seemed to be choking on his words. ”I do not want stupid landlubbers to advise me on how to sail my ship and here you go again. I do not want to deal with you anymore.”
Radon paled.
”Go tell your Corsair friends to send someone else next time. Someone competent and intelligent. Because I don’t want to waste my time on fools who…” Fangnir seemed to be choking again. He imagined himself explaining his crew how they needed to spend weeks in Pelargir in search for crew to replace ’the dead and the wounded’. Saw the baffled and confused expressions on their faces, saw the amused smiles, raised eyebrows and rolling eyes.
”It was not my intention to offend you, Captain, I assure you, please forgive me”, Radon kept repeating when Fangnir could finally hear something outside his mind. Fangnir blinked and the embarrassing vision faded. His hands were trembling on the table.
”You have ruined my meal!” Fangnir roared like a breaking wave crashing against a cliff.
Radon was more shaken than the man sitting opposite him. The arrangement he had with Fangnir and the Corsairs had profited him greatly over the years and he did not want it to end. But something in the arrogant manner of this fat sea-captain had always offended Radon. Now he had evidently crossed the line with him.
”Captain Fangnir. If there is anything I can do, I beg your forgiveness. If you want pretty Haradrim girls, I can talk to my Corsair contacts, and we could arrange…”
”You are a fool, Radon! I am Captain Fangnir, the richest man in Lond Cirion and a glorified privateer hero who’s name is known everywhere in Gondor! Do you really think I need the services of such a narrow-minded, incompetent little worm like you to arrange women for me?”
The words gnawed at Radon’s sense of self-worth. He trembled with stifled rage, but managed to heep his emotions hidden.
”You may pay for my meal”, Fangnir said. ”I will be at Ethir Anduin within a week with Aeartur.”
”I beg your forgiveness one more time…”
”Perhaps I will accept your apology”, Fangnir said, wiping his thick lips with a flax linen napkin.
Captain Fangnir was a sea-captain by trade and the owner of the mighty ship Aeartur. While he had no noble lineage, he had made a name for himself in numerous sea-battles against Corsair pirates and enjoyed Steward Denethor’s tacit consent to attack and raid Corsair ships near the shores of Gondor, and keep half of the loot acquired from the pirates to himself and his crew. He had single-handedly captured and raided more Corsair ships than any other sea-captain not officially part of Gondor’s Navy, and these heroic deeds had made him quite a celebrity in some circles. He had made a fortune with the proceeds he had taken from the Corsairs in his battles against them. There were rumors circulating that Denethor had considered a knighthood for Fangnir, which would make Aeartur officially a part of Gondor’s Navy – no small feat for a son of a simple fisherman in Lond Cirion. Nobody ever seemed to wonder why Fangnir seemed to encounter Corsair ships so much more often than other merchant captains, and why there were always liberated slaves from Harad among the ships Fangnir had captured. He accepted only hardened veterans of sea-battles to serve as his crew, and he was a sought-after captain, as many sailors had profited greatly when serving under Captain Fangnir’s flag.
Captain Fangnir was no monster. Not in his own eyes. He had an aging father in Lond Cirion whom he visited regularly while he was home from his sea-voyages and whom he respected and obeyed. Fangnir had never married, but he enjoyed the company of beautiful women and courted them in his witty and sometimes even charming manner. He was a very healthy and vigorous middle-aged man, a rich and famous man and a pillar of the community in Lond Cirion. Some day they might even erect a statue for him. No, Captain Fangnir was no monster. The slaves he liberated from the Corsair ships could rely on Captain Fangnir’s word, even though some of them had to endure an unpleasant period of servitude for two years while their chidren or loved ones were kept as hostages in Umbar. Afterwards their lives would be so much better living among the civilized society of Gondor rather than the savage Harad villages they had been unfortunate to be born into. That is how Fangnir had reasoned to himself.
These thoughts calmed Fangnir down, and he was no longed mad with Radon.
”All right”, he said. ”It is settled then. I will be waiting for you in Pelargir.”
”I will come there”, Radon said.
”And now the bill!” Fangnir raised his freckled hand and waived the waitress over from the other side of the common room. The big man smiled at her.
”Today I shall not be paying the bill, Lendes”, he said. ”My guest has insisted to pay for my modest meal.”
The thickset waitress turned to look at Radon, who blushed and was about to say something, but started to look for his coin purse instead. He had already crossed Captain Fangnir once today – best not to do it again. He paid the bill. When he looked up, Captain Fangnir was already on his way out of the door. Radon was certain Fangnir had humiliated him on purpose. There was no doubt about it.
