[Envinyatar]

The familiar sound of Malris barking out orders in rapid succession brought a faint smile to Orëmir’s lips. Captain of his troop still, he was setting them in the roles he needed against a looming foe. Orëmir did not grudge him this position. Malris was very good at it. ‘But this time,’ Orëmir thought to himself, ‘I will keep the larger view in mind when I make my choice to act with him.’

This moment’s choice, though, was clear. He grabbed two buckets stored in a compartment in the bow and handed one to Lindir as he approached.

His eye caught his brother’s figure hurrying toward the well anchored tarp which covered the group’s supplies. Grabbing an extra bucket, Orëmir made a quick beeline to him just as he bent to squeeze himself under the covering. With a sympathetic look he handed him the pail and whispered a few directions in his ear as to where he might find the tincture for stomach troubles. The look in Endamir’s eyes was one of mixed gratitude and dread. Orëmir saluted him with his own bucket and made sure the tarp was fastened tightly all around. Near where his brother had secured himself, there were a number of coils of rope. Orëmir took two, tucking them in his belt as he ran to his place. Passing Lindir on his way to the opposite side of the ship, he threw him one of the ropes.

Orëmir positioned himself securely against the railing of the ship, his bucket in hand. The rope, he tied about his waist with the free end tied to the rail. Now he need only wait. And studying the clouds that were threatening in the sky above he knew it would not be a long one.

‘The grace of the Valar be with us,’ he murmured, hoping it was not they who had sent the impending storm in the first place.