The road from Thrasi’s lodge to Celondim wasn’t one that Cutch had taken often, for there was little trade between the Dwarves and Elves during his time riding with the Dwarf caravans. His eighteenth year was closing as a new chapter of his wanderings opened. He glanced away from the striking flora edging the ancient road, and towards his riding companion, Corwine Camberstone.
“Yes, my boy”, Cory announced, “the sea is a temptress. She gives all and takes all, she’ll wear you out till you beg for solid ground. Soon, though, you’ll be wanting to roll on her waves again.” He gave Cutch a wink and a lecherous snicker. Cutch nodded politely, smiling, and raised no objection to being called ‘boy’ even though Cory was maybe a year older.
“But your time on shore can be profitable, if you master these…”, Cory continued as he lifted a pair of dice out of a pocket. His smile vanished as he looked closely at the little gaming blocks, then he glanced over his shoulder along the road back to Thrasi’s lodge. “Let’s pick up the pace, boyo. We’ve got a ship to catch.” He kicked his horse into a gallop, briefly leaving a stunned Cutch behind. Soon, though, the two were rejoined and racing toward Celondim, a curious Cutch closely chasing a nervous Cory.
Camberstone abruptly swung his horse onto the turnoff for Duillond, but instead of heading to the stable, he led them down the steep slope towards the River Lhûn.
“Hey!” Cutch called out. “Where are we going? Don’t the ships dock at Celondim?”
Cory offered no reply until they were down at the river’s edge near a small island. “Ah…. yes… well we need to check on Falmahil.” Without waiting for Cutch to respond, Cory waded into the river, crossing the short distance to the island. Cutch halted to survey the scene, noticing a rowboat pulled up onto the island. Beyond the boat, a slender figure with a broad-brimmed sunhat stooped over a sunlit clearing lush with low, flowering plants, a sack slung low over one shoulder. The figure straightened and turned to them, and Cutch could see it was an Elf, male, and surprised to see them.
Cutch followed Cory to the island. As he approached the pair, Cory was tensely speaking to the frowning Elf, who Cutch presumed was Falmahil.
“Caught cheating again, Camberstone?” The Elf’s words were more an accusation than a question. While Cory was trying to form an answer, the Elf offered Cutch a friendly nod.
“Not … not sure, Falmahil… old friend. But I need your boat.”, Cory finally sputtered.
“The dice!”, Cutch exclaimed. “You were cheating the dwarves with crooked dice!”
Cory sighed and held out the little cubes. Falmahil looked at them and guessed, “These are the dwarves dice you palmed when throwing your own crooked ones, aren’t they?”
“Those are my friends back there, you cur!”, Cutch shouted. “I’ve spent the last year living with them!”
“…and when you left, you forgot to switch them back, didn’t you?”, Falmahil continued, a sneer in his voice.
Cory shrugged resignedly. “Hey, those fellows aren’t above bending the rules either. They’ll charge overmuch for their goods and underpay for ours, so….”
Cutch stepped forward to closely face Cory. “That’s business. That’s bargaining. One or the other can always say no or keep haggling. But this!” He suddenly slapped the dice out of Cory’s hand. The older boy stepped back, hands up defensively, surprised by Cutch’s sudden ire.
“Aye! Aye! I understand!”, Cory meekly offered, still retreating. “But … we’re shipmates … we must stick together! Come now, fellows, help me out.”
Falmahil stepped between them. Being Elf, he looked not much older than the others, but carried himself with seasoned confidence and wisdom. “Crane is not a shipmate yet and owes you nothing, Camberstone. But I am, and here is how I will help you. You take the rowboat back to the Gelir Wingë. Pray that Captain Khurhad will be more merciful than the dwarves would be. I’ll take your horse and ride with Crane to intercept any of them that might be hot on your trail. They are smart and have probably figured out your thievery by now. Give me your winnings.”
Cory looked pleadingly between the two, but silently relented to the Elf’s stoicism and Cutch’s anger. He handed Falmahil his coin purse and stomped to the rowboat. Falmahil wordlessly led Cutch back to the horses as Cory glared at them, fiercely rowing downstream to the docks at Celondim.
As they rode back up the slope to Duillond, Cutch realized that they’d not actually been introduced, but before he could ask how the Elf knew his name, they heard loud voices coming from the village stables. Soon, they saw a group of dwarves led by Thrasi interrogating the stablemaster.
“We’re here, Thrasi”, Cutch called out, taking the lead as he heeled his horse forward.
Thrasi strode towards Cutch, anger burning through his beard and with a clenched fist at his side. “Tell me you knew nothing of this, Man-child!” He thrust out his fist and opened it to reveal the loaded dice. Cutch dismounted and faced Thrasi squarely.
“Surely you know I did not, or you wouldn’t even ask, good dwarf.” He reached an open hand up to Falmahil, who nodded and passed Cutch the coin purse. “This is the scoundrel’s winnings. Count it out.” The other dwarves gathered around as Thrasi squatted and, grumbling, emptied the pouch’s contents onto the ground. In their own tongue, the dwarves haggled as the pile of coins was distributed amongst them.
Soon, no coins were left, and no dwarves were still muttering, save Thrasi as he stood. “Aye, the count is right, but where is this other fellow and what punishment will he get?” The question began with Cutch, but fierce dwarven eyes settled on Falmahil.
The Elf regarded Thrasi evenly before calmly answering. “If you will attend us to Celondim, Master Dwarf, I will leave you my shipmate’s horse that I ride, and you may have the opportunity to tongue-lash the cheat.”
Thrasi stared at the Elf for a long minute, then circled the horse. “Including saddle and tack”, Thrasi growled, squinting at Falmahil as if to dare a refusal.
The Elf calmly nodded, saying, “I will only take from the horse what is mine. This satchel of herbs, my tools, and the clothes I wear.”
Thrasi seemed momentarily insulted by the suggestion that he might strip the Elf of all his personal belongings, but still eyed the satchel with sharp-eyed interest. “What’s in the bag, Elf?”, the dwarf growled.
“Its contents are mine and will stay so.”, Falmahil answered with an even tone.
The dwarf grumbled but nodded his assent. “Done.”
Everyone climbed on their mounts and rode together south.
The village of Celondim was very typical of the Falathlorn, meaning it was distinctively Elf in every detail. The beautifully architected buildings nestled amongst strikingly leafed and flowered trees, all elegantly occupying the slopes down to the docks on the River Lhûn. The artistically shaped terrain was as serene as the Elves conducting their daily business, much of it on this day centered around two identically and strangely wrought ships tied up to the docks.
The group of dwarves, elf, and man reined up at the stablemaster. “You’ll need to sell your horse and whatever personal belongings you can part with, Crane”, Falmahil announced. “Space on the ships is limited.” Cutch blinked at that, but complied, busying himself with sorting out his belongings.
From the deck of the nearest ship, a very tall, dark-skinned, red-haired woman shouted out to them. “Falmahil! Is that the new fellow?” Her voice was strong and deep, and seemed perfectly matched to her gaunt but powerful frame.
The elf rode to the edge of the dock, leading the dwarves. “Yes, Captain Khurhad. Crane is sorting out his personal things before requesting to come aboard.” Falmahil dismounted and the dwarves followed suit. “Is Camberstone aboard?”
“Aye, the scoundrel is aboard, and has cleverly confessed his foul treatment of the …. locals”, she answered, then turned to shout out Cory’s name and a rough command to come forth. The young sailor appeared, and she grabbed him by the back of the neck, pressing him toward the decks railing. “So, what should we do with this one, Falmahil?” She grinned evilly and shook the sailor like a rag doll. Cory winced under her grip but offered no resistance.
“Tis not the first time he’s gone ashore and shamed the ship, Captain. He has already surrendered his winnings, which the Master Dwarf has graciously accepted...”. Amid Falmahil’s explanation, Thrasi shoved past the elf to press his own case.
“But we demanded and was promised more to punish your cheating crewman!”, Tharsi shouted, shaking his fist at Cory. “We’re taking your horse and everything on it!”, he taunted Cory with a sneer. “If I ever catch you at my lodge again, I’ll cut you up to bait my game traps!”
“And that is fair enough, you think, Falmahil?”, the captain asked, pushing Cory forward as if to toss him off the ship.
The Elf suppressed a grin and nodded. “Fair enough for the dwarves.”
Khurhad turned Cory about and drew his face close to hers. “Get below”, she hissed. “We’re not done yet.” She roughly pushed him away.
Cutch, having finished his business with the stablemaster, approached the back of the group to witness the justice being rendered and to look at the ships. They were lateen-rigged, slender-hulled beauty’s that looked as if they could outrun anything on water, and although they were the largest sea craft he had yet seen, his next year aboard them would reveal how small they could be next to the ships of Lindon, Gondor, or the Corsairs.
Captain Khurhad turned from the retreating Cory and peered at Cutch. “I suppose you’re wanting to come aboard now and learn how to survive the sea under my commands?” She glowered at him with tempting, devilish eyes. He swallowed, and glanced at Falmahil, who offered a comforting nod and warm smile.
“Yes Captain!”, Cutch admitted, surprised at his own enthusiasm.
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The following ship is a variation of the Felucca found at
Lindëfirion wiki: Ships of Middle-earth (lindefirion.net)
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Haradan lateen-rigged sailing boat used in fishing and transportation along the coast from Lindon to the Cape of Belfalas. Very fast, but dangerous in stormy weather. Length: 60' (16 m). Beam: 12' (4 m). Displacement: 30 tons |
Below are a pair of these ships (Sea Nymph and Gelir Wingë)
These ships are owned and operated by the House of the Golden Crescent – a merchant house from the S.A., the remnant of the declining house now living on the edges of Gondor and Harad economies. The last of the house are a brother and sister, Khannath(m) and Khurhad(f). The house has a tradition of inter-marriage between Gondorian and Haradrim families whose histories are woven through Umbar.
They prefer honest work (trade) but are not above smuggling between the antagonists. Due to the unrest between the southern and northern lands, they prefer to base out of the Cape of Belfalas and confine their legitimate ventures along the coast to Lindon. They have a complicated relationship with the corsairs, less so with the navies of Gondor and the Grey Havens.
