[Lalwendë]

Tarn

The pathway down to where the Corsairs had moored their great ship was cut closely into the cliffs and was slippery in places, but Tarn knew the dangers well, and he passed down the steps as swiftly and silently as an otter. As he neared the bottom, he saw the Captain, Marreth, boarding the ship and drew himself back against the cliff face, where he was hid in a crack of the dark, slimy rock. He wanted to know what was going on, but he didn’t want to be drawn into anything against his will.

The Captain was gathering the crew together on the deck, and to his surprise, Tarn spotted Nilak among them. His eyes narrowed. Nilak was as much a scoundrel as he was, and they would normally have kept out of the way of each other, but they had crossed paths often lately, as both had become involved with the Corsairs. Nilak was a strong man who intimidated the Lossoth with his reputation as a ship wrecker, and he had a great thirst for wealth. Tarn admired his nerve, but he would never have admitted this. Tarn’s reputation was built on his disdainful manner which led him to think he could get away with almost anything, and there were some Lossoth who dared not even make eye contact with this large, arrogant man. Nilak was one of those who did dare.

“What is that limpet doing here?” hissed Tarn to himself. Over the crashing of the waves, he couldn’t quite make out what the Captain was saying, but whatever it was, it did not take him long, and the crew turned away with uncertain looks on their faces. He had only made out the words “elves”, “spying” and “enemy”. As he puzzled over this he spotted Nilak leaving the ship, and drawing one of his knives into his sleeve, he stepped out onto the path.

“There’s a little mission to do with these elves going ahead I gather, Nilak,” he said, raising his eyebrows. If Nilak was taken aback by Tarn suddenly materialising from the cliffs, he did not show it. Tarn’s plan had worked, and instead of attacking or ignoring him, Nilak had motioned him to follow. As they walked back, Nilak had told Tarn about the elves’ plan to search the House of the Dead, which had made Tarn snort with sarcastic laughter. But when Tarn heard that the Corsairs were planning to go down there and spy on the elves he stopped smiling. Nilak told him that he was going down there himself, at first light, and Tarn did not say anything for some time.

As they neared the path which led to Tarn’s hut, he had decided. “I’m coming along with you. I’m not afraid of that place. It’s only an old man’s story. A lie. There has to be something in there to make up something like that to keep us out.” He did not really believe what he was saying, but he wanted to convince himself that he did, for he was determined to find out what would happen, and determined not to let anything prevent him from finding this treasure. At the crossroads they parted, and agreed to meet up by the Corsair ship at daybreak, to join in the spying mission. Whatever that would entail, neither knew, and neither dared say.

Tarn entered the stone hut to find Thynne asleep, the fire down to its embers and only half the nets mended. He did not check the pot to see if Thynne had eaten, as he had now forgotten his threat, but it was no matter, as he was angry enough about the unmended nets. He angrily piled wood into the hearth, and as he did so a thought formed in his mind. The lad could be useful if any of the spying came to involve entering the caves, and it would also be his punishment. Tarn nodded to himself spitefully, and instead of waking the lad, left him asleep, and climbed up the ladder to his own bed in the loft, taking the pot of stew with him.