The Sea Hawk looked pensively out the small porthole as she considered what exactly she could, or should, divulge to her unwilling guest. He had promised a fair hearing, which she should take as a given. However, he'd also managed to get around her original conditions quite neatly, without a shred of damage to his own honor. She would have done exactly the same in his place.
She'd poured wine for them, one of the excellent Haradrim vintages her father had taught her to enjoy. Now, she simply had to draw up enough courage to tell Boromir exactly why she was what she was.
Enough. She had to do this. But the thought of this man sitting in judgment on her was daunting, to say the least. He was far too much like her, and that worried her. Would he see the truth of her words, or simply condemn her for piracy and be done with it? This had to be handled carefully.
"You're right that I don't like killing," she said slowly. "I've had enough of it in my lifetime to satisfy even the most bloodthirsty of pirates. But all that I have done has been unavoidable and necessary to keep my people safe."
She downed the wine in her cup and poured another quickly, carefully not looking at her guest. "My father was an exile from Minas Tirith, sent away for what the Lord Steward your father called 'unfair business practices.' He was a woodcrafter, and well thought of. But Denethor, the snake, could not bargain him down on his price for a chair he wished, the design being my father's, and so Denethor had him banished. It was most unjust."
Boromir nodded as he sipped at his wine. His first impulse was to deny the accusation, but he reined it in quickly. No one knew better than he and Faramir the depths of the madness their sire had fallen into, nor did even they have a notion of when it had begun. And he had heard several similar tales since his return. It was entirely possible that she was telling the truth.
"When Andrus, my father, left Minas Tirith, he was allowed to take nothing," she continued quietly. "The clothes on his back, and no more. Everything he had worked for was taken from him as punishment for his 'unreasonable' pricing. So he wandered for a while, selling his services as a woodcrafter to obtain lodgings and meals, and amassing a fair bit of coin. With that, he took himself to Cair Andros, and signed onto a craft for Umbar, thinking to work his trade in peace. But it wasn't to be.
"The ship was taken by Corsairs, and he along with it. He was forced to learn a new trade to survive, and he did it well. This ship, Aergil, he won by right of arms from her previous master, and I from him when he died. Although I didn't take it in a fight, as is normal for pirates. He willed the ship to me, and I held it. I held it against all comers, but I did not kill unless given no other choice. Everything was fine until we met up with the Fortune out of Dol Amroth." Her voice was steady, but it held a note of pain. "I sent Arthond aboard to see to the plundering, with strict orders not to harm anyone."
Her throat closed up tight, and she almost couldn't continue. She downed what was left in her cup and repoured, noting idly that Boromir still lingered over his first cup and approving in the back of her mind. Some of the tales she'd heard of his carousing in Minas Tirith were simply appalling. It steadied her slightly that he seemed to be giving careful consideration to her tale, and obviously didn't want his mind muddled with drink. She forced herself to speak.
"Arthond saw fit to override my commands. He thought it best to punish the crew, since they'd dared fight back against him. He had them bound and placed in the hold, then ruptured the hull and sent her to the bottom. They never had a chance." Her voice strengthened again as she hurled the again drained cup against the wall. "Arthond was punished, flogged, made an example of, and swore never to disobey again. I should have killed him for it. I should have just dropped him over the side."
Boromir waited for her to compose herself. This story was one he'd heard, though not from her side. Prince Imrahil had been most infuriated by what he saw as a callous disregard for human life. Boromir was beginning to see the truth of the matter, and it disturbed him greatly. "So it was not your decision to sink the Fortune?" he asked quietly. "What of the other lives taken in pursuit of your 'trade?"
"I take responsibility for those. A dozen, no more. Each died at the point of my blade, though not without fair warning. They chose to fight rather than surrender. They died with honor." There it was again, that damnable little word. Honor. Honor was what demanded she stay aboard this ship and see to her crew, provide for their families, and try to find them a better life. Honor was what demanded that she shelve all her personal needs, her very life, to try and make theirs better.
She still couldn't face him directly. Somehow, this idea of holding him for ransom and the King's personal attention seemed suddenly ill-advised, if not downright stupid. "Most of my crew has family, children to feed. We take no more than what will feed them for a month on the open market in Umbar. And most of them came from Gondor. From Minas Tirith, either exiled or fled from Denethor's wrath. I've done what I can to keep them fed and sheltered. And I returned fourfold what we had taken from the Fortune, as compensation for the families that survived. I had an obligation to see to them, since their men's blood was on my hands."
Boromir covered his initial start of surprise. "No compensation was ever received by Prince Imrahil," he said slowly. "Those deaths have been firmly laid at your door, as though you ordered them yourself." He watched her face, searching for signs of deception, and saw none. What he did find, however, was a swift progression through shock, dismay, horror, and then just plain, unadulterated fury. He caught her before she could roar for one of her men and slapped his hand over her mouth. "Quietly, my lady. Think on this before you speak. Who was the one entrusted with the payment? Who did you send to Dol Amroth? That is who has betrayed you. And you will need to keep your wits about you to flush him out."
He waited only until she nodded slightly, accepting his instruction. Then he stepped back, nodding toward the door. "I think we should lock that, my Lady Pirate. We have plans to make."