Chapter 5
Imrahil sent immediately for all three of his sons and lieutenants when Ivriniel had gone. He knew speed was of utmost importance now, and though his sister was perfectly trustful that Lothíriel could manage, Imrahil still did not like the idea of her facing those corsairs all alone. Well, not alone, if Éomer was unhurt and able to contribute in his own saving. But while Ivriniel seemed to think it would all resolve itself, Imrahil couldn't just sit by and wait without doing anything. And perhaps, if the corsairs were put between rock and a hard place by the fleet of Dol Amroth, it would help Lothíriel to carry out her own part. Ivriniel had said the girl would try to deceive them first, try to get them land somewhere that was not Umbar. But either way, it was likely she and Éomer were going to need someone to pick them up. For all purposes, Imrahil wanted all his ships on the move now.
Once his sons and lieutenants were on their way and plans were in motion, the Prince of Dol Amroth sent summons to another captain. He still needed to write updates for Aragorn and Lady Éowyn, but Éothain probably was quite anxious for tidings and it wouldn't be wise to keep him waiting. Imrahil shuddered. Though he was usually mild and pleasant with his friends, Captain Éothain was not a man you wanted to cross. Where Éomer himself had received schooling in the ways of Gondor and he could temper his more Rohirric tendencies when necessary, his second in command did not have the benefit of royal education on his side. And Imrahil had witnessed the handiwork of King's Captain in training rings; he would be much more comfortable if those formidable skills were never put in serious use except against real enemies.
Captain Éothain arrived less than ten minutes later. A manservant announced him and ushered the man into the study. Somehow the Rohir seemed lacking in a curious way and the reason was clear to Imrahil. It was rare to see the King's Captain without his liege-lord, and when Éomer was not around, Éothain almost grew smaller in a way.
"You asked for me, my lord?" Captain Éothain spoke in low tones. He had been spending most of his time with his men, overseeing them in searches for Éomer, and just generally keeping them calm. Imrahil was silently very thankful for the man's efforts. It was in no one's interests that the situation turned into chaos.
"Yes, indeed. I have some news", said Imrahil and he gestured at the chair opposite himself. He wasn't sure if it was just a feeling or not, but it looked like Éothain only sat down because he was trying to be polite.
"Good or bad?" asked the Rohir warily.
"Both, I'm afraid", said the Prince and he let out a sigh. He proceeded to explain all that Ivriniel had related to him, and his heart sunk when he saw the way Captain Éothain's expression grew more and more thunderous. Quickly he added that ships were already on way to hunt down the pirates.
"So you mean to say", said the blond man at length, sounding so patient and calm it could only be the outward signs of intense anger, "that my king, the last of his line and the hope of his people, is not only missing, but he has been captured by pirates? And their ship is probably halfway down to Umbar as we speak?"
"It looks like that, unfortunately", Imrahil said, trying to sound just as calm. It might reassure the captain at least a little bit. "But like I said, he's not without friends. We have a reason to believe that one of my spies boarded the ship and is working right now to free him. Moreover, last night there was a savage storm at the sea. We hope it has delayed the corsairs from getting very far."
While Imrahil did not take pleasure in omitting some facts, he had not told Captain Éothain the spy was in fact his own daughter. For one, he wasn't sure the Rohir could comprehend it, and secondly Ivriniel had always insisted it should be kept as a secret. According to her, it was what made the Ladies of the Hidden Blade so effective. And to be honest, the captain presently had enough to burden his mind.
"A reason to believe? You mean, you don't actually know if Éomer alone or not?" asked the Rohir in a dangerous tone. He looked like he might leap from the chair any second now.
"I know how this must sound to you, Lord Éothain", Imrahil said and attempted his best to keep his tone soothing. "But so much about the situation is unclear even to me. The spy in question was on another mission, following the same pirates we suspect of this foul deed. However, she did not return at the due time and her supervisor believes she witnessed the capture of our friend. Believe me, Captain, if this is the case, then the spy in question will have dropped her original mission and boarded the ship to watch over Éomer and help him to escape."
"So it's a she", said Éothain apprehensively. Imrahil supposed the tone was because the man was not used to thinking of Gondorian ladies as fierce and brave as the womenfolk of Rohan. As a matter of fact, the skills and abilities of Ladies of the Hidden Blade were probably something no one would believe, north or south.
"Yes, and she is perhaps the best trained among all my servants. She is skilled in deception and subterfuge and she is a deadly fighter. My lord, if there is anyone in this world you would want aiding your king in this danger, it is her", said Imrahil. Of course, he had his own doubts, and his words were mostly lent from Ivriniel. But she had been calm and entirely trustful that Lothíriel had everything under control, and if Ivriniel had such faith... well, to panic now and spread his own fears to Captain Éothain would only do harm.
The Rohir still looked doubtful. In his blue eyes, there was a simmering fire and his fingers grasped the armrests of his chair tightly.
"You must see that is not enough for me. What do you suggest I tell my men? What do I say when they ask whether our king is ever coming back alive?" Éothain asked sharply.
Imrahil let out a sigh and he looked down briefly. It seemed to him this single morning had aged him at least ten years.
"I wish I knew what to tell you, Captain Éothain, but I do not. I am fully aware how extraordinary my words sound to you. But never for a moment must you think that I don't share your concern and dread. Éomer is my friend just as well. My House is responsible for his peril and we will do all that is possible and in our power to get him back. I have sent all three of my sons to lead the search parties, and under their command, all available ships will be looking for your king. I only ask that you have some patience with us. That you give us a chance to try to fix this", he said at last, solemn and quiet.
Something about the Captain's features softened. It appeared there was some impact to Imrahil's words at last – or maybe his own appearance had just betrayed the guilt and fear he felt for the sake of the man who was friend to them both.
Imrahil breathed a little easily. He had not yet lost Éothain's good faith. But could Lothíriel live up to these expectations? She was so young and she didn't have her aunt's experience or cunning...
Yet his sister's message was clear: they needed to trust his daughter now. And Ivriniel did not have a single fanciful bone in her body, so perhaps... perhaps she was right. Perhaps she had trained Lothíriel that well.
He only hoped she was right.
Lothíriel was not sure she had actually managed to win King Éomer's trust during her brief visit to his cell. He had not looked terribly impressed with her, but she considered it was perhaps a sign of him having a healthy grasp on reality that he did not immediately take her word for it. In his situation, how could he? A shiver ran down her spine when he had glared at her and declared revenge in case she was deceiving him, and at once she had understood why this horselord had such a formidable reputation. It had almost made her feel like she was somehow leading him on.
Even so, he had not hesitated when she had given him the waterskin, and he almost drunk it entirely in one go. Poor man must be having the hangover of century, judging by how sick and full of suffering he had looked like. Once she got back home, she and her brothers would have some words on how to watch over a foreign king. In fact, she was going to be most surprised if the unlucky Rohir did not declare war on Dol Amroth the moment his feet touched solid ground and he was free again.
But though she hated to leave him alone and sympathised with how awful he must be feeling, Lothíriel excused herself soon enough; she wasn't supposed to be visiting him and she didn't want the crew wondering where she had vanished. So she told him to stay put for the time being and have some faith in her, and then she had left him alone in the cells again. If this ragged ship could hold it together, and the even more ragged crew did their job of avoiding Amrothians, they might be seeing the shores of Gondor again as soon as nightfall.
Of course, there was the possibility one ship or the other from her father's fleet reached them before that. It could solve all their problems, or it could make things worse. She still didn't fully trust these pirates not to outright murder their prisoner if they spotted the sails of an Amrothian ship approaching theirs. But she would worry about it only if it came to pass, and in any case she was very much making this up as she went along. Not that she had yet told King Éomer that. The man had enough to deal with as it was, and she worked better if he didn't try to meddle with her process. It would be easier to focus on her objective if she didn't need to try and manage his panicking on the side.
Slipping back to the deck, she gave around herself a quick glance. It didn't seem like anyone had noticed her absence. Swiftly she got busy with her earlier task of inspecting whether any of the sails used during the storm could be salvaged, and pretended she had never even thought of freeing Rohirric kings. But when she looked around herself again, her eyes briefly locked with the man with the Black Serpent insignia. She did not know what it was that put him off, but for a second his eyes narrowed as he stared at her. Lothíriel conjured an expression of embarrassment at prolonged eye contact and went along. She made sure to watch her back closely afterwards.
The next few hours were harrowing. The crew members were already weary from battling the storm, and though the first mate had organised turns for rest and some food, it was hardly enough to restore them while there was still the task of keeping the damaged ship afloat and sailing. Occasional brawls broke out, but Dagalur dealt with them swiftly and sternly. Under his command, they might even make it to Pelargir.
Lothíriel tried to stay out of the way, but she couldn't steer entirely clear from notice; her failure at securing one rope in time earned her an angry scolding from an older member of the crew. But a fierce glare from the first mate ended the scene before the angry pirate could shout more abuse at her, and she tried to make herself as small and inconspicuous as possible.
Before long, there was a sudden disturbance just below the deck. Shouting rose and there were sounds of a struggle. Lothíriel tensed instinctively and looked up to see a few members of the crew rushing down below. In a few minutes, the prisoner was dragged out.
Five men were around him, and four of them had some sort of minor injuries. King Éomer himself looked to be fine, although his expression implied he was probably going to bite off some fingers very soon. Lothíriel focused to keep her expression vaguely interested as she watched the pirates trying to manage him; she didn't want to betray uncommon fascination, but neither did she want to appear as though she was purposefully trying not to look at the man. To herself she considered it was good the horselord had this fighting spirit. And if he was able to give the corsairs this much trouble even when he was without weapons... well, maybe escape would not be that hard.
But even so, it was still the two of them against an entire crew of corsairs, and the Rohir still did not entirely trust her. If this lot felt cornered and lost their hope of escaping her father's fleet, they were likely to become very dangerous and unpredictable. She needed to make sure this didn't happen until they had reached land.
There were more moving parts to this scheme than she liked. But Aunt had trained her to adapt and to improvise... and as long as the pirates did not know the enemy was already in the middle of them, she would have advantage.
From the corner of her eye, she watched as King Éomer was taken to see Dagalur. She could guess only too well how that confrontation would turn out.
Good. Keep his eye fixed on you, and let the spiders do their spinning...
For the first time in his adult life, Éomer was finding himself in a plight where, to be entirely and brutally honest, he was not sure what he should do. He had been to some very bad situations where survival had not seemed likely, but he had always been able to come up with something, either to stall the enemy until help could come or manoeuvre to save his own skin and those of his men. As a prisoner to a bunch of pirates, he was entirely helpless. And he knew no aid was coming.
However, as chance willed it, he was not without allies: here on this ship was also a young, skinny lad who was telling him that he had some sort of a plan to escape the ship. It was ludicrous, really, and he wasn't sure he trusted this boy, even if he had mentioned Imrahil's name. But in his current predicament, Éomer knew he didn't have much of a choice. Moreover, no matter how hard he had looked, he had not found falsehood in the boy's eyes. And Éomer fancied himself a keen judge of people's honesty.
He would have liked to know how the boy had got on this ship in the first place, but there had not been a chance to interrogate him properly – the youth had been too worried about being caught in Éomer's company. Before slipping out again he had announced his name was Candir, but there was the faintest shift on his features that made the Rohir wonder if it was his real name.
He rubbed his face and thought about what Éothain was doing now. His heart ached when he imagined his friend's worry and distress when the young king couldn't be found. It was certain the captain would know by now that Éomer was missing; he could only wonder the pressure he was putting on the princes in order to find the King of Rohan. But they wouldn't know where to look.
Even so, perhaps this did not have to be the end of him. It all depended on whether a young Amrothian lad could fool the entire crew of scheming cut-throats. The sheer idea seemed absurd, but on the other hand... in the boy's bright grey eyes there had been something… there was something unusual about this Candir, a kind of fire accompanied by lack of fear – like the boy believed he could do anything if he really wanted it. Was it madness to consider even for a moment maybe there was a chance the young spy could free him, somehow?
The Rohir shook his head and ran a hand through his tangled hair. If he got out of this mess cleanly, he would start to take things a little more seriously, find a wife, and never do anything reckless again. That should please his advisers.
Éomer expected his captors would make an appearance sooner or later. That it took so long of them had been briefly explained to him by Candir: apparently, there had been a very bad storm and the ship had taken a serious amount of damage during it. So, as he reasoned, the crew and its captain were too busy to pay attention to their prisoner, who was safe and sound behind the lock anyway.
Momentarily he considered the boy was merely a part of the pirates' ploy: their captain had sent him to talk with Éomer and win his trust. But incidentally, this seemed even more improbable than what Candir had told him. Nothing about this whole affair implied long and intricate plotting. The corsairs could not have known about his upcoming visit, or Amrothos' whim to take him to the particular tavern where he was spotted and caught, and they surely would have thought of a better escape plan than braving the sea during a horrible storm. All in all, the idea that Imrahil employed foolhardy street rats and used them as spies was much more likely.
He was glad the sneaky boy had got to him before the pirates did. At least he now knew the situation and his captors did not have surprise on their side. And he got an opportunity to calm his mind enough for him to be in control of his temper – although it didn't prevent him from throwing some punches and adding a few well aimed kicks when they were transporting him to see their leader. It was moderately easy to put up a fight under the deck, where the corridor was narrow and dark. There was only space for two men to be holding his arms, and they were not very strong. Of course, he knew it was not going to help his situation. But at least it made him feel a little better.
More men rushed down below the neck and the narrow corridor became so tight with limbs and shouts and sheer mass of people that Éomer was overpowered, and he was at last dragged out to the deck of the ship. To his satisfaction, he saw his struggling had caused two broken noses, a loss of few teeth, and one man's lip was bleeding so badly half his face was stained with blood. No doubt there would be many bruises as well. Let them know he wasn't going to be a compliant prisoner!
Air was fresh and clear and he breathed it deeply, glad to smell something else than his stuffy cell. Around him, he saw many hostile faces, but he also spotted the skinny figure of his secret ally. Not a single muscle twitched on his impassive face when their eyes briefly met. To himself, Éomer wondered if the boy was that good at pretending, or if there was some more sinister reason to his lack of reaction. But how could one so young either be so masterful at deceit, or so utterly depraved? If he got out of this alive and in one piece, he and Imrahil were going to have a long conversation.
Once his hands were tied behind his back, he was pushed into what looked like the captain's cabin. There waited a man leading these pirates. He was over half a head shorter than Éomer and more of a wiry sort of fellow. His shiny black hair was neatly fastened at the nape of his neck and his dark eyes shone with malevolence and threat; his expression very much implied it would be a waste of time to try and negotiate with him. The corsair captain was arrayed much like his crew, but a few pieces of jewellery, an onyx ring here and a gold brooch there set him apart as an officer of higher ranking.
There was a kick to Éomer's back, which forced him to fall on one knee, and he gritted his teeth to hold back a curse. He wouldn't give these villains the pleasure of seeing him daunted. He refused to shy away from the blade that roughly pressed between his shoulder blades.
"So", spoke the captain in a slow drawl, "you are the King of Rohan. I must admit, I'm not as impressed as I expected to be."
"Maybe, if you hadn't come at me like a coward with your drugs and poisons, you wouldn't be so disappointed", Éomer jabbed steadily. Béma, what wouldn't he give to have Gúthwinë in his hand right now, and show these bastards how easy it was to catch him!
"A coward", said the captain, "or a smart man."
"From where I'm standing, it doesn't seem particularly smart to snatch me straight from under the noses of two princes of Dol Amroth and then try to escape during a rather horrible storm. A smart man wouldn't have left so much for chance", said the Rohir, and something about his words apparently annoyed the pirate, judging by the scowl that appeared on his features.
"Even so, you are here now, under my mercy. Already we have a plan to avoid your precious friends from Dol Amroth. They may well search near and far for you, but it will be in vain: they won't be able to help you now", the pirate stated with a gloating smile.
Éomer met his eyes calmly.
"Don't underestimate the skill and strength of Dol Amroth", he said in cool tones. "Or Gondor, for that matter. If you hope to do the wise thing, then you should turn this ship right now and deliver me back to my friends and allies. Then I can give you my word you will sail back home safely. But if you insist on keeping this insane course of action, then may the Powers help you."
"Dol Amroth is far behind already. Do you not see, horsemaster? This is a chance that comes to a man only once in a lifetime. There is not a single sailor in my land who wouldn't take it, never mind the risks. Soon enough we shall reach the Havens of Umbar. There are many among my people who would give their left arm to see you brought to justice for things that you and your people did in the war", the pirate spoke, and the longer he went on, the more heated his tone became. A feverish light shone in his eyes, suggesting a hatred that ran deep and intense. It surprised Éomer a little. He had seen the devastation on the fields of Pelennor and known the casualties of Southron armies had been heavy, but this bitterness and blind anger still was much greater than he would have thought.
He could have pointed out his people had known loss too, or that the War of the Ring had not been a pleasant little party for them, or even noted how they were still struggling to survive. But to start and preach on how the Dark Lord had been the true enemy of all the peoples of West and South, and explaining that Éomer was not responsible for the consequences of allying with the Shadow? It would be a waste of time.
"Would they give their lives to see me punished, though?" he asked instead. "For death is surely what you and your people will get for your crime. King Elessar already knows that I've gone missing. He will soon learn it is you who took me. Your victory will be shortly lived, for he will march for Umbar with the might of Gondor and Rohan behind his back. And he will burn down your city until not a single stone is left standing."
Now the scowl rested on the captain's face for a longer moment than before. Some deep-set anger rose from within and he lashed out, his fist punching the young king hard against the centre of his stomach. Éomer momentarily lost his breath and he was left gasping for air.
Even so, he did not miss the man's following words.
"Maybe so", the captain snarled, "but you will not be there to see it."
Lothíriel was not particularly worried about what would happen between King Éomer and Captain Dagalur. Words would no doubt be exchanged, along with insults and threats and maybe a few punches here and there. But it was obvious the pirate wouldn't be keen to truly harm his prisoner. His interest in this unfortunate affair was selling the man to Gondor's enemies, not taking out his personal revenge on the horselord. She had already made her own analysis over Dagalur's character and she deemed that for him, chief reward lay in catching and delivering the King successfully to those who were more interested in bringing punishment. A man who could say he had carried out this deed would enjoy quite the reputation among the peoples Gondor and Rohan had long fought against and as far as she could see, Dagalur was very much aware of this. And she was glad for it. If King Éomer was harmed somehow and his ability to function – physically or mentally – was compromised, it would be much more difficult to free him.
Soon enough her assumptions were confirmed. The horselord was delivered to the deck and down below again to lock him up once more. He was looking even more furious than before, but it didn't seem like he had taken any injuries. There were five men transporting him and one of them kept a blade near to his neck at all times. These pirates really are afraid of him, Lothíriel thought to herself. But then, it was only smart. King Éomer did have quite the reputation, and who knew what he would do if he managed to get a weapon in his hands…
Close to sunset they saw the shores of Tolfalas, the great isle near the coast of Gondor. They took shelter in a small natural harbour and waited for the darkness to fall. It would be safer to approach the mouth of Anduin when the sun was down. Standing by the railing, she watched the sun go down in the west. It was a lovely sight, the way skies were glowing with so many shades of orange and fiery red, and even the sea looked like it was catching on fire. Sometimes in her trade she got so distracted and forgot how beautiful world could be. Far away, she thought she could spot the sails of a ship… was it one of her father's, searching the seas for the missing king? Lothíriel wondered what was going on in Dol Amroth now. Father should be back already and he would have received the news. Had Aunt figured out and told him what had happened? Was the old woman aware that her pupil was here and working on a plan to fix this? It should console Father a little bit, knowing that King Éomer was not entirely without friends.
The sun sunk in the ocean with a final blaze and another night was come. Lothíriel let out a small sigh as she turned, knowing supper would be served shortly. She had been so preoccupied, she had scarcely given any thought to food before now. But it would be wise to eat properly and keep up her strength. Who knew what challenges lay ahead of them? She couldn't meet the dangers of this quest malnourished or lacking sleep. Like Aunt had so many times told her, the weakness of the body was a sure way to dull the sharpest of minds.
The food on the ship was nothing special. The bowl of fish stew she received from the cook didn't particularly tease one's appetite, and dipping hard biscuits in it softened them only a little. But Lothíriel tried to eat as enthusiastically as she could. A street rat like Candir would surely consider this a feast. From the corner of her eye, she saw the cook sending his assistant to take some scraps to the prisoner. She shuddered when she thought what the horselord would be given to eat.
Nearby, there was a group of corsairs eating and laughing together. Their leader seemed to be that same man who carried the sign of the Black Serpent, and soon enough she picked up from the conversation that his name was Shanum. He was talking in a loud voice about the horrors that were waiting for King Éomer once the ship reached Umbar. There was also a debate on how they should deal with him – if there should be some kind of an auction where the man would be sold to the highest bidder, and how much the captain would allow his crew to "have fun" with the prisoner. With a devilish smile, Shanum started to plan a re-enactment of the Battle of Pelennor fields. Only this time, the outcome would be vastly different.
Lothíriel was able to hide her disgust at this conversation. Killing people was one thing, and capturing them for some kind of justice another, but this villain was talking about it like it was sport for him. She bit her tongue to keep from grimacing. Candir was not supposed to be worried about the King of Rohan or what awaited him in Umbar.
But though she didn't think her expression had revealed anything, from the corner of her eye she saw Shanum glancing at her way, again wearing that narrow-eyed look she had spotted earlier. It worried her a little, but she pretended she had noticed nothing. Was the man on to her? She hadn't given any reason to doubt her sincerity, had she? It was not a good thing on a closed environment such as this ship. However, she only needed to keep this up until they reached Pelargir, and then it wouldn't matter if Shanum suspected her or not.
Quickly she picked up her bowl and made to deliver it for cleaning. Maybe she could avoid the cook's eye and steal a little something more decent for King Éomer to eat...
After his confrontation with the captain, Éomer was swiftly delivered back to his cell. While it was hardly a very charming or comfortable place, he was thankful they left him alone. Either the crew had not enough men to spare one to watch him or they had decided the locks and bars were a sufficient ward.
With a groan he sat back in the cell and thought about the meeting with the corsair captain. He supposed it would have unnerved and troubled him more if it was just him alone against these pirates. Strangely enough the thought of Candir, as much as Éomer still distrusted him, gave him a measure of hope. Did it make any sense? Probably not. But on the other hand, maybe he needed to hold on to that precious inch right now. The alternative was too much to bear.
His sense of time long gone, Éomer did not know how much time passed while he sat alone in his cell, and the only interruption came in the form of one crew member, who brought him a bowl of what was probably supposed to be a supper. While he was indeed hungry, it was actually bit of a challenge to get the burned scraps of some kind of stew down. But he guessed he wasn't going to get anything better, and so he emptied the bowl in a rather heroic attempt.
He passed the time best he could, coming up with schemes of escape that were mostly either ridiculous or infeasible, and doing some simple exercises. It was a decent way to keep himself calm and chase away what was a prisoner's worst enemy: dullness. He wondered about Candir, too, and if the lad would make another appearance some time soon. Hopefully so, as the Rohir still had plenty of questions for the boy. Not to mention, he rather wanted a chance to make his potential helper to talk and get a better idea of his character. Perhaps it would give Éomer some insight as to how reliable this strange boy was.
It seemed that at least some things were going his way even at this time. As he sat there thinking of these things, Éomer suddenly heard movement from outside, and then the door opened. A slight figure slipped inside, as silent as a shadow. Candir was there, carrying a small bundle in his arms and moving so noiselessly it was almost unnerving. Maybe he was a spy.
"Hello there", the boy greeted Éomer tentatively. "I hope you haven't yet decided to go mad?"
"No, not yet", said the Rohir with a snort. Granted, there was plenty about this situation one could lose his mind over, but perhaps not while there still seemed to be faintest glimmer of hope.
"That's good. It's important to keep up your spirits", said the boy as he came next to the cell. Éomer made a non-committal sound. He was staring at Candir hard, studying the features of this strange boy and trying to decide what to make of him.
"I brought some food for you", said the lad, either unaware or deliberately ignoring Éomer's probing stare. He handed his bounty over to the Rohir. There was a bit of dried fish, a piece of dark brown bread and a leathery apple. Candir hurried to speak, "I know it's not much of a meal. But it was hard enough to steal even these, what with the way the cook was watching me. I think he has another set of eyes in the back of his neck."
"It is quite all right. After the garbage they brought me before, this seems nothing short of a feast", Éomer reassured the lad. He was actually feeling a little moved that the boy was trying so hard on his behalf. "Thank you, Candir. Your efforts are appreciated more than you know."
A lopsided smile appeared on the youth's face.
"Just doing my job, Sire", he said swiftly.
The young king narrowed his eyes.
"Say, what is your job? How did you happen to be around when I was taken? And why did you get on his ship instead of getting some help?" he inquired and dug into his second meal. All the while, he watched the boy's face keenly.
Candir had an explanation ready. He described his original mission and how it had caused him to be around when the pair of corsairs had dragged him unconscious to their friends. Then he proceeded to explain why he had judged his best chances lay with simply getting on the ship instead of making the alarm. After considering his words, Éomer had to agree they made much sense. Candir's quick thinking was probably the reason he was still alive.
"It seems like a dangerous job for one so young", Éomer noted after mulling over Candir's explanation for a while. Personally, he wouldn't send a lad to do something so perilous.
But Candir didn't seem to mind. He gave a small grin to the Rohir.
"See, that's why I get things done. People think I'm too small or too young to be worth their notice, or too stupid to understand important things. And so they never see me coming", he said lightly, and once more Éomer had to agree the lad had a point. He would probably have dismissed this unusual youth, too, had Candir been spying on him. He shuddered at the idea of Imrahil having such an asset in his sleeve. Thank the Powers his friend was much too decent to use it against his friends... hopefully.
"Even so, though I am grateful that you came after me, I cannot say whether it was very foolhardy or very brave of you", he said at length and took a bite of the apple. Candir let out laugh and bizarrely enough, Éomer noticed it was not a very boyish sound at all.
"Well, sometimes you just got to do what you got to do", said the boy, and Éomer grunted in agreement. He had thought Candir couldn't be more different from him, but it seemed they had at least something in common.
"Say, what about your family? Is... this all you are?" Éomer asked on an impulse. But it was a valid question, he deemed. Where in the world did spies like Candir become?
The lad did not meet his eyes and for the first time the Rohir caught a glimpse of dishonesty. Or, at least he did not get the impression Candir wanted to answer his question.
"I do what I must because of my family. And sometimes despite them", the boy answered slowly. It didn't really answer Éomer's question, but caused a hundred more to spring to his mind. The young king lifted his eyebrows in curiosity. While it had been clear from the start no ordinary lad did things like boarding a corsair ship and deceiving them into letting him to join the crew, Éomer now considered the youth was even more unusual than he had first thought.
"For what it's worth", he said eventually, "if we get out of this alive, I will see that you are rewarded according to your deed. And if Imrahil allows, you must visit Rohan. My people will want to meet you."
But Candir shook his head anxiously.
"Sire, I am most flattered you would show me such honour. But if I can get us cleanly out of this, my part in it must stay as much a secret as possible", he said heatedly. Éomer opened his mouth to speak, but the boy carried on before he could say anything, "You see, I can't do my job if people know about me. As long as I am no one, I can become anyone."
The Rohir frowned. He could see the lad's point, but he did not like it. Though it was clear this young spy and his skills were something one could easily use for sinister purposes, here he was doing a genuinely good thing, trying to free the King of Rohan. So far, he had not betrayed anything particularly evil about himself. And yet he should not receive no thanks for his efforts? In the Riddermark, such favour as saving another's life were richly rewarded and remembered long after. But Candir seemed to live only for his job, and in his job. Did he have anything outside of it?
He would have liked to point this out, but Candir was straightening himself once more and glancing at the door.
"Sire, I really need to get going before someone misses me. I'm not supposed to be here, as you know", said the boy softly.
Éomer would probably have said something affirmative and resigned himself for a lonely night that was most likely going to be interrupted by corsairs, but he never got that far. For it was then the door was thrown open.
He was only able to watch by helplessly the events that took place next. Three men burst in, much to Éomer's dismay. He saw Candir opening his mouth, but he was not able to get a single word out. And immediately it started looking like maybe not even him could lie his way out of this.
"See? I told you this one can't be trusted. I say he's been in a league with the horsemaster from the start!" said the man in the middle. He was openly wearing the Black Serpent on the front of his loose, blood-red tunic.
"You've been mistaken -" Candir started quickly, but he was not given a chance to finish the sentence.
"Silence, boy! We caught you red-handed. Or were you supposed to be here with the prisoner?" asked the man with the Black Serpent – obviously a leader to this little gang. His companions made noises of approval.
Éomer would dearly have liked to say something, but he knew he was just going to make it worse for Candir, and if he did try to defend the lad, it would confirm the suspicions of these men.
"I was just -" Candir tried again, but once more he was cut short.
"Take him! We'll see what captains has to say about this!"
Several things happened at once. Three pairs of arms pushed towards the lad. There was a struggle, and Candir's silly little cap fell... and a long, shining dark braid fell from underneath. For a second, every single man in the area froze in sheer surprise.
Maybe it was an accident. But even so, the second of astonishment it bought was not left unused: Éomer saw the flash of a small blade, quick little slash at the belt of one of the three men, and a ring of keys falling on the floor.
The corsairs recovered soon enough. By then, Candir's hands were already empty.
"Now this is just getting more interesting!" said the leader of the trio, and then he and his companions took Candir between them. "I imagine the captain will be most fascinated as well!"
Forgotten entirely in this turn of events, Éomer was left alone in the cells... with a ring of keys and a knife peeping out of Candir's hat, where it had been dropped with such sleight of hand as any pickpocket would appreciate. The message could not be clearer.
Well, apparently he was not going to run out of surprises any time soon. But even so, once he had got out of this cell and found his helper, they were going to have a long conversation about the fact that Candir was actually a girl!
To be continued.
A/N: So, Éomer is finally starting to catch up with the rest of us! Poor man is more than right to think there are still some surprises waiting for him. :)
I had to do a major re-write for this chapter too, and because of the changes I've made so far, I'm going to have to do some serious editing and re-writing with everything I've drafted so far. This is probably going to slow down the updating pace, but I honestly think the story runs much smoother now and it's generally a better read. So, please bear with me!
Lothíriel looks to be in a pinch now, but we'll see how it goes, especially with her little trick just before she is captured.
Thanks for reading and reviewing!
Victoria LeRoux - I'm glad you liked it! And I hope the story remains exciting!
Lykxz - I am happy to hear you are enjoying this!
I agree with some of your notions, and have some differing opinions on others. For one, I do agree it doesn't seem like Éomer to be cruel to Lothíriel, or anyone for that matter. Of course, he could act in a way that could be perceived as cruel by another character, but he'd never do it on purpose, and he'd be horrified to learn his actions caused someone to feel like that.
Personally, I've always regarded Rohirric culture as more laidback than Gondor. Their civilization is not on the same level (note: this doesn't mean it makes them better or worse), and so in my view it also impacts their social norms and what they regard as "proper". So, in their society it could be acceptable to drink or to have sexual partners outside marriage (another note: personally, I don't think there's anything wrong with free sex). Obviously, Tolkien doesn't write about this stuff, nor would it make sense in the context of the story. It simply doesn't fit in that narrative. But fanfiction is a great place to explore this side of the world of Middle-earth.
As for Éomer? As a young man, he's the King's nephew and high-ranking military leader. So it makes sense that he would have very good access to nightly amusements, and I think a man of his status wouldn't have hard time finding willing partners. As a result, the Éomer I write usually has experience in that regard. He is described as being a man of passion and strong emotions, and bold to the point of being reckless. I'd think that as a young and less in control of hot-headed impulses he'd have at least some encounters with women. But in the end, I can't see him leading anyone on or treating his partners badly.
Lothíriel, on the other hand - well, again it makes sense that she'd have less experience, considering her background as a prince's daughter. She's actually eight years younger than Éomer, so it's hard to see a scenario where she'd be more knowledgeable. In this story, she does have very different ideas than in my previous stories, but I'm not sure she's had much experience in that regard. For one, she hasn't been active as a Lady of the Hidden Blade for very long. And there are other things that tie in with this, but they have to do with later chapters of this story and I don't want to spoil anything. But we'll get there, eventually!
sai19 - I rather agree! I think we are all much more pleased with the end result when it's better thought out! :)
It's not looking good for her right now, but we'll see how and if she'll get out of this one!
Nymphae - Yes, occasionally it's very refreshing to write Lothíriel as this kind of character! :) And I have always had a weakness for unorthodox plotlines.
Nerdanel - Oh, I see! :D But I'm glad to hear the chapter managed to deliver the expectations!
Katia0203 - We'll see about that! ;) I hope you liked the bit with Imrahil and Éothain. Somehow it was easier for me to write it from Imrahil's POV, probably because I had already been inside his head.
EmpressNK - I wouldn't feel sorry for them, really!
EStrunk - Happy to hear it was so nerve-wrecking! :D But I think it's a very real concern what could happen if Éomer comes to permanent harm during Amrothians' watch. Éothain may be acting patient now, but it's only because he knows how good friends Éomer and Imrahil are, and he and his men could be a nightmare if their king doesn't come back safe and sound.
Interactions between Éomer and Lothíriel remain gradual, but at least he knows now his helper is indeed a she!
Doranwen - Yes, he has a lot of opinions about her! We'll see how feasible her plan is now that she has been caught!
Catspector - It did not, indeed! Imrahil probably still has a bit of difficulty swallowing all that Ivriniel said, but like he notes, she isn't fanciful like that and if she truly believes in Lothíriel so much, maybe he should too.
As for Éomer, he may still not entirely trust Lothíriel, but maybe he does a little more than at the end of the last chapter!
Jo - We'll see! ;)
Anon - It's refreshing to write from this perspective, indeed. And you are very right - too often it seems like female characters only gain strength from horrible losses and suffering. Like, it can be that way, and I admire people who are able to turn their grief into strength. But it shouldn't be the only way a woman can be powerful.
Merakia - Thank you! :)
Glad to hear you're liking the story so far, and that there remains such a balance! Hopefully I can keep that going.
I think the reason Lothíriel comes across as so much more competent than Éomer is because they are so deep into her area of expertise right now. He has his strengths and talents that are unfamiliar to her, but this whole scheming and deceiving is just not his thing at all, so until now there has not been a real way for him to contribute. Éomer is a leader of people, a man who stands in light and is basically all things Ivriniel resents and tells Lothíriel not to be.
Oh, I imagine Aragorn would fare well against Ivriniel - it's just a fun little thing to imagine!
Also if you ever feel like it, don't hesitate to point out my grammar mistakes! I get so blind at stuff like that sometimes, so I'm glad when people notify me.
