[piosenniel]

The Sandpiper/Star puts in to the coast at last . . . a way inland is found . . .

A fair span of hours passed as The Sandpiper pulled further out to sea. ‘Is this necessary,’ asked Pio watching the shoreline fade in the west. ‘It is, m’lady,’ rejoined Hamar as he gave an order to let out more sail. The breezes grew stronger as they turned away from the coast, a useful fact which he hoped would make less the additional time incurred for this necessary change in course. ‘There are far more vessels in the waters just off the Bay of Umbar than is usual. And many of them are bound south, it seems, along the coast. It be the case that some might be Falasmir’s ships, I’d prefer we not be pulled over and inquiries made.’

~*~

It was nearing first light as they tacked in toward the coastal waters once more. The small bay just south of Umbar was nearing, and it was there they were to meet Faragaer’s ship, The Scuppered Gull. ‘Take us back out, sir!’ cried Hamar to the Helmsman; the great wheel turned and they sailed westward again, then south once more. A great flock of Corsair ships lay at anchor in the confines of the small cove, bobbing on the sheltered waters - dark threats of warbirds ready to take wing. ‘What are they doing there?’ asked one of the crew who had come to bow. Pio glanced at him, and then to Hamar. ‘I can’t really say,’ the man answered, taking in both the Elf and the crew member who had asked the question. He put his spyglass to his eye and scanned the ships. ‘I will say, I can’t see The Gull’s pennant among them. He must have sailed further down the coastline.’

‘He and I had discussed that previously,’ Pio nodded, sending the crewman to her quarters to retrieve her map case. ‘The original captain of The Sandpiper had dealings far south of Umbar’s port,’ she said as the sailor handed the pack over to her. She pulled out the old ship’s log and thumbed through until she had found the map she wanted. ‘See here,’ she went on, her finger sliding past the drawing of the cove they’d just passed. ‘There is another small inlet here just south of where we were to meet, and still a third one further down. Not often used, so the Captain wrote – rocky shoals forbid a close approach to the shore. But there is enough leeway for longboats to maneuver in and out. And here,’ she tapped on the chart where some blobs of ink had been left. ‘These are part of the original rocky headland that lost its mooring to the coastline and now stand like tall, little island rockeries. Ships that moor to the south side of them cannot be seen from the north or the seaward side. We can find Faragaer there, it is what he and I had agreed on.’ That is unless he and his crew and ship have not been seized altogether and hauled in to Umbar’s docks! she thought grimly to herself.

~*~

The Sandpiper headed landward after a number of hours sailing south. The rockeries were there as the journal had said, great swarms of seabirds roosting on their barren caps and ledges. The ship headed further south than the islets as it headed in. Pio and Hamar stood at the ’Piper’s rail, their eyes straining to see the The Gull.

‘A ship lies moored there,’ cried Pio, pointing as they just cleared the protective screen of that blocked their view from the open waters. Hamar brought the spyglass to his eye and fiddled with the focus. ‘It’s The Gull, he said with a sigh of relief. I can see the welcome banner snapping in the breeze.’

~*~

Soon the two ships were at anchor near each other. Pio and Hamar rowed across the other ship speak with Faragaer. He had had no word, either, of why the Umbarian ships were docked outside the bay. ‘And no desire to sail in and ask either,’ he laughed. ‘As did you, we made our way further south, as far from prying eyes as we might.’

‘What of a passage way in for myself?’ Pio asked, eager to be on the trail of the missing men. ‘How shall we go about that?’

Faragaer laughed again, urging her to take a seat on one of the crates on deck, as he had. ‘I’ve already seen to that,’ he said, motioning for Hamar to be seated also. ‘We’ve been here a number of days already, good mistress. Haladan sent his man in as soon as we’d got here. There are always little trading parties crawling cross the hills here . . . like ants, especially this time of year. For a fee, a generous one, I might add, we persuaded a small group of basket and woven mat makers to take you with them. They’re heading east, over that small gap in the coastal hills. They’ll travel north, visiting the tribes they trade with. They have no news of any men from the north,’ he added, ‘but with luck you may find some hint of where the Captain and his First Mate are being held.’ Faragaer tapped his fingers on the edge of the crate, avoiding a look at the Elf’s face . . . holding back the thought he did not wish to share with her – that perhaps the trail would prove sorrowful at the end.

He was startled into looking at her as her hand crept over his and stilled the nervous tapping of his fingers. ‘He is not dead, yet, Faragaer. I do know this.’ Pio withdrew her grasp and rubbed the back of her neck. ‘Nor will he be if I can find him.’

‘Tonight, then,’ said Farager, a tense sort of relief evident in his voice. ‘The tribesmen will come down the strand and take you with them.’ ‘Myself and Baran,’ she corrected him. ‘I will pay for his passage, also.’

‘And I, also,’ said Hamar, cutting her off before she could object. ‘The King wishes it so, Mistress. He has given me certain funds for what is necessary. I am to represent him in this matter. He was quite firm about his orders to me. He will not be gainsaid in this, I was to tell you . . . should you object.’

Faragaer looked from one to the other. ‘Poor man,’ he thought. ‘I can already see the considering look she gives him. Best he stay on his toes if he means to keep up with her, I think.’ He called for a bottle of wine to defuse the situation.

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Hilde Bracegirdle's post

After the eagle left, Surinen sat down again. Initially confused that Sorona, who had stated her place to be with her clan, had then so soon after told Fador she did not know how long she would remain with them. Perhaps the old eagle did not wish to take their acceptance for granted. But these concerns were quickly crowded out of the outrider’s wandering mind by the sobering thought that the Meldakhar was leaving them. Though there had never been much hope for her recovery, he had not yet been able to grasp that there could ever be another to lead his clan. It had always been so, since he could remember, her quiet strength guiding the eagles through many years, and of course leagues upon leagues through the desert. But if she were to leave them then she must have good cause, and have also confidence that her clan possessed the fortitude to continue without her.

Surinen looked up to see Latah approaching, Fador’s meal in her hand. “Ah, daughter,” the older man was saying, as the outrider focused his attention on them. “Maybe you would sit with us and tell us of your day. Mine unfortunately, has been an active one and regret that I have neglected my responsibility as host, burdening you with our guests. Tell me what has transpired in my home since this morning when I left.” He rested his chin on steepled fingers, genuinely interested in what she might say. “Surely, there is much I can learn from your young and unprejudiced eye.”

But Latah, settling herself down at his bidding, simply replied “Please Father, have your food and tell us of yourself, for I have nothing to say other than what you have no doubt already heard.” She avoided Fador’s, opening the box of warmed bread and placing two folded pieces on her father’s plate. “What are the elders saying?”

Surinen could not believe his cousin’s remarks. Surely she had not forgotten all the excitement that had surrounded her father’s tent today…the guards… the dagger. “But what of Ráma’s knife?” Surinen ventured, looking questioningly at Latah before addressing her father. “I doubt that the elders have heard that the younger one…”

“The first mate,” Latah reminded her cousin, gently.

“Yes, the first mate,” the outrider continued turning to Fador. “For some reason he had Ráma’s knife, and we were trying to figure out why that might be,” he explained watching the elder with great expectation that Fador might find this observation significant.

“Really Suri, you are making too much of it. See here Father, I have the dagger now and will return it to Ráma once I meet her. This man Suri speaks of did not seem see in it any special significance, and nor I think should my cousin!” she said shaking her head.

“I suppose the one to answer your suspicions then would be Ráma herself,” Fador counseled the young man, quite unruffled by Surinen’s revelation. “But I would not trouble yourself, Suri, for if he had taken it from her, would he be so careless to openly leave it here? No, I think not. So then, putting the matter aside, have they behaved honorably? Or have I to entertain undesirable company?”

“Truly, I have heard no complaints, and have none myself,” Latah smiled, watching her father finish his meal. “I think that we are blessed with guests of good temperament.”

“Good then, I am glad to hear it. We shall make them feel at home, won’t we?” Fador encouraged his daughter.

“Still Uncle,” the young man interrupted. “I would feel better if Narayad would be here also. I do not like Latah to be alone with such men. Perhaps he might be allowed to act as guard?” Surinen suggested, his voice ending in a lilt of deference.

“Narayad, yes well, perhaps for a while we might convince him to stay with his wife,” the elder said passing his plate to his daughter, and standing to leave again. “But alas, Thorn has expressed other plans. I have spoken with him a little while ago, and he would sent Narayad on a journey, so he tells me, until the suspicion of him fades.” Surinen was stunned into silence. It did not make sense to him. Thorn had always supported Narayad’s decision to live among the eagles.

“He’s is sending him away?” Latah echoed, clutching the plate. “And my husband has agreed to this?”

“Yes daughter, he has, though I also do not understand it myself. But Thorn has mentioned that if his absence grows to be an extended one, he would have you sent also, so that you might be with your husband. Let us hope that this does not become the case, and that we can soon convince the people to have faith in Narayad once more.”

“But were will he go?” Surinen asked, troubled by this news. “Where could he possibly go?”

“I do not know, Suri,” Fador admitted thoughtfully. “We must find out from him if he has some idea where he might go, for Thorn has said that he has left that decision up to him. But now I must take leave of you both, to join the others at Ayar’s side.” Seeing the two in mute bewilderment, Fador hesitated, turning again to them before leaving. “Do not worry, I will speak with Narayad to see if he is sure of this, and will speak on his behalf with who ever I must. Perhaps we might yet sway this decision.” And with that he left the tent once more.