[Child of the 7th Age]

**********Harad/Umbar******************

Oliphaunts and baggage were swiftly being loaded onto the Corsair vessel. The men went about their business as quietly as possible. For a while, all seemed well. They thought to creep on board and make a swift exit from the harbor.

But just as they were loading the last of the oliphaunts, a small mouse came running across the gangplank. Within a single instant, bedlam broke loose. The man riding atop the mountainous beast was hurled into the waters of the bay. The oliphaunt reared up on his hind legs and let out a hideous bellow. He dropped down and turned about charging through the marketplace. It was enough to wake all the inhabitants of the Barrow-downs. And it certainly drew the ire of the men standing guard on several of the Corsair vessels docked just north of the one they'd chosen for attack.

Corsair pirates awoke from sleep, fumbled for their scimitars and bows, and came running out onto the streets. A volley of arrows came raining down on the heads of Fuinur and Herumir and their men. Urken laughed. Then he cursed the folly of the Oliphaunt handler and swore to split him in half, if he ever showed his face again.

Within an instant pirates were mobbing the ship, with scimitars held high in their hands. Herumir was fighting desperately, but losing ground as, inch-by-inch, the pirate soughts to grab back what was theirs. Fuinur found himself retreating into a corner, with a half a dozen men jabbing at his ribs. The Corsair were using long spears. Men were being run through and skewered, then tossed over the rail as if they were pieces of meat. The decks of the ship ran red with blood.

Urken lept up to the helm and put his horn to his mouth, sending the high notes echoing into the night. Within a moment, a returning cry of a horn split the air. A small regiment of soldiers, wearing the colors and carrying the banner of Urken, came marching into the harbor, bearing fresh axes and spears. They charged onto the ship, bringing aid and relief, hacking and scrambling their way through the dead and wounded. Slowly, the attackers fell back. At the end of an hour all lay quiet. Fuinur stood gasping for breath, and Herumir nursed a small wound in his arm.

Fuinur walked up to Urken and glared, "Could you not have brought your reinforcements down earlier? My men were sorely pressured. I have lost several; others were wounded." He gazed about the harbor and scowled, for Urken's reinforcements were conveniently occupying the other vessels one-by-one. The banner of the Bear now flew proudly on masthead after masthead. Fuinur cursed under his breath. One of the additional ships was being prepared for their own voyage. The rest seemed destined to join Urken's small navy.

Urken stared at him with cold eyes, "I did as I saw fit. If your man had not blundered in his handling of the beast, there would have been no need for any reinforcements."

But Fuinur wondered just where that mouse had come from, and why it had picked such a convenient time to stroll across the gangplank. And he especially remembered hearing the laughter of the priest.

[ October 04, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]