Gurtir\'s Decision

Real time is: 12:57:55 MDT on Tue Feb 03 2009.

It is night, just after the latest banquet from Alphros. The blackness is complete, the camp outside relatively quiet, though the guards at the tent of the men of Gondor do not sleep. Inside, the tent is black, as well, though at least one of its occupants is not asleep.

\"Thingalad?\" Ceredir\'s voice is a low whisper. He is sitting on the edge of his cot.

[Thingalad(#32030)]

\"Yes?\" Thingalad lies on his cot, but he\'s obviously awake too. \"We should get out of here and report back.\"

\"Agreed. We can. Two of us. Yildirim...I spoke to him just yesterday. In return for our giving him back his life, he has offered that he will help two of us slip out of the camp--no matter if we support their Lord Farside or not. But...just two.\" Ceredir pauses. \"We need to decide and move.\"

[Thingalad(#32030)]

Thingalad considers this in the dark and his voice is slightly incredulous. \"It could be a trap. I don\'t trust that boy. But if that priestess lady has brought word of rebellion...\"

\"If I had a knife I\'d slit his throat after he finishes paying his debt of \'honor\' to us,\" Ceredir sneers. \"But he is the only option open to us, it would seem.\"

[Thingalad(#32030)]

Thingalad nods and turns to light a lamp. He shrugs and is about to say more when he notices shadows moving against the fabric of the tent and he falls silent.

[Azradi(#20135)]

Without announcement, the flap to the tent parts and in ducks the Corsair Azradi. She is still dressed, as she was for the feast, in her strange marriage of Gondorian gown and the colorful styles of her own people. As before, a large head scarf is loosely draped upon her head and flung over her right shoulder. Where a woman of Gondor might adorn her gown with embroidery the anAzulada woman\'s dress sports colorful beads of glass and metal.

\"Gentlemen,\" she greets, her gray-eyes sweeping from one man to the next. \"I have come to ensure you have everything you need.\"

[Thingalad(#32030)]

Thingalad rises as far as the tent will allow and nods to the lady he had been looking at before. \"We do, thank you. The night air did much to revive me after being led out by my kinsman here.\"

\"Thank you, my lady, we are well,\" Ceredir echoes Thingalad, though his tone is rather dry and he scowls briefly at the other man. \"I hope that...our leaving did not cause too great a disturbance?\"

[Azradi(#20135)]

The King Claimant\'s sister walks further into the tent. Her gait belies her manner of dress her strides are long and confident and she moves as one who is used to the weight of a sword at her hip. Her kohl-lined eyes roam over the men\'s belongings curiously and then sweep upwards to rest upon the Gondorians themselves. \"I was absent when you first spoke to my brother, I would hear from your own lips why you came to hear his claims,\" Azradi says pointedly, her Westron accented but not unintelligibly so.

[Thingalad(#32030)]

Thingalad smiles. \"There is a lord of great stature in Gondor who blocks my way. He is a Steward\'s Man and I have no hope of standing against him. I seek better terms here from the one who would be king of my homeland.\"

With a small smile, Ceredir inclines his head to Thingalad\'s explanation, but offers none of his own.

[Azradi(#20135)]

\"You are kin?\" she queries, looking between the men. \"And his reasons are yours?\" she adds further, her gaze resting now on Ceredir. \"What is this great lord\'s name?\"

[Thingalad(#32030)]

Thingalad replies without hesitation: \"Lord Bragollach.\"

\"Are not all men of the blood of the Numenorean brethren, my lady?\" Ceredir answers. \"Though in truth, I too, have a complaint against this same lord, and so his cause is mine.\"

[Azradi(#20135)]

\"No, they are not,\" Azradi replies, keeping her gaze on Ceredir for the moment. \"I am told I could easily pass for one you and so I, like many of the Aglarramareans and Umbareans, look quite different from the Haradrim.\" Indeed, her skin is lighter than most in the camp, even other Umbarean Corsairs - and what color it does bear is clearly from the sun and not birth.

\"And I am told that many of you have mingled with Northerners whose bloodlines do not extend to Numenor,\" she adds. \"However, our kinship is undeniable.\"

\"Lord Bragollach?\" she repeats, \"Tell me of him.\"

[Thingalad(#32030)]

\"He is from the south and I am from the north. Our paths have not crossed, but he is against those who wish to rise up against his base of power.\" Thingalad shrugs and shakes his head. \"Surely you know the type?\"

\"True, my lady. Not all of us are brethren. But Thingalad and I share the same grievance.\" Ceredir then nods to Thingalad\'s continued explanation.

[Azradi(#20135)]

\"Yes,\" Azradi answers succinctly, \"I do. He is a strong lord who wants to keep his power. He will fall before my brother and I - or bow.\"

\"And what of your third companion? What does he seek to gain?\"

[Thingalad(#32030)]

\"Gurtir seeks the rightful king of Gondor. If he has other motives, I do not know them.\" Thingalad waves for Azradi to sit on the edge of his cot. \"Is this all you\'ve come to find out?\"

\"I think that we all seek the rightful king of Gondor, do we not?\" Ceredir adds.

[Azradi(#20135)]

\"I seek to restore my family\'s rightful heritage,\" Azradi agrees. She does not sit, but her gaze comes to rest upon Thingalad. \"And yes, this is what I came to learn.\"

She turns then and heads towards the tent\'s exit.

Ceredir stands. \"Then I think that our goals will mesh well together. Good night, my lady,\" he says, inclining his head as the woman takes her leave.

[Thingalad(#32030)]

Thingalad watches Azradi as she moves to leave the tent. At last, he calls out, \"I hope you recover well.\"

[Azradi(#20135)]

Lifting the tent flap, Azradi pauses and turns. Unconsciously, her right hand rises to tug on the scarf that hides her injuries. \"I will mend with time,\" she says, a cruel smile curving her lips. \"Your Lieutenant-General will not.\"

And with naught else, she turns on her heel and departs the tent.

For several minutes after the woman has left, Ceredir remains silent, though he returns to his seat on the cot. \" We must be more cautious,\" he notes with a grimace. \" Now...do we stay and extract the revenge we wish to see? Or return to our brethren and give them information about this latest arrival?\"

[<#32030>]

Thingalad looks slightly confused. \" Extract the **** we what?\"

\"Revenge,\" Ceredir hisses in Westron. \"Do we extract revenge for the General. Return to warn our brethren? both? And do we trust the boy\'s promise of honor? Do these people have honor at all?\"

[<#32030>]

Thingalad nods, getting it this time. He continues on in Sindarin, talking slowly, \" If his throne is under threat at home, this would be the time for our forces to attack after he leaves to quell his civil war.\"

\" Yes. But...he is the leader. The center of all things.\" Ceredir picks his words carefully, as his Sindarin is good but not smoothly fluent. \'Charismatic leader.\' He frowns. \" Perhaps he could be isolated from the rest of his forces as he leaves and slain, too. In either case, this information must reach our men.\" He adds, \'reach our Captains.\'

[<#32030>]

\" Yes indeed. Let us use the boy and if he betrays us, we will kill him.\" Thingalad nods.

\" I would be willing and glad to kill him even if he doesn\'t betray us. Blood for blood, and then more so,\" Ceredir snarls. \" But I lack a knife.\" He stands up and paces. \" Where is Gurtir?\"

[<#32030>]

Thingalad looks back to the tent flap and then turns back, \" The *********** sister was one of those who killed the *******. We must report this ** well so that she may be properly punished as well.\"

\" The boy said he would take two of us out.\" Ceredir frowns. \" This is a death trap. I do not want to lose heart...but...it\'s a death trap. And the Captain will insist on staying.\"

[<#32030>]

Thingalad frowns. \" At least they accepted my drunken stupor. It ****** us time.\"

\" It did,\" Ceredir nods, nearly grinning, though the situation is too tense for that. \" I would like to know what Gurtir heard of the rest of that conversation, though.\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

Gurtir enters the tent, greeting the men with a nod.

\"What news, sir?\" Ceredir switches to Westron, though his voice is so low as to be worthy of talking in the wilds of Ithilien. \"Thingalad and I deem that news of the arrival of the emissary of the enemy must get back to our camp immediately. And of the rebellion.\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

\"Of the rebellion her, I will have slain.\"

Gurtir replies, eyes sparkling.

[Thingalad(#32030)]

Thingalad nods. \"Getting back will be a tricky thing.\"

\"How and with what weapons? It would be better if we were to sneak an attack into their camp when they aren\'t expecting it. Or attack Alphros as he leaves,\" Ceredir argues, low. \"THe boy...he offered to sneak just two of us out, no questions asked. Apparently it is a point of honor that we saved his life. And I may have convinced him that I know of others in our camp who are like-minded to us. But one here...it is worse odds than three.\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

\"I shall offer myself to swear my oath to Alphros as I grab the hilt of his sword, it will be done.\", answers the Captain simply, \"Yet... take the boy\'s offer if your heart counsils you to.\"

He walks towards his cot and sits down, a single wave of his hand given.

\"You are dismissed.\"

[Thingalad(#32030)]

Thingalad salutes, deeply moved by this act of sacrifice. \"Your name will be recorded in the scrolls of our longfathers and passed down as long as Gondor endures.\"

\"Sir.\" Ceredir quietly acknowledges the Captain, then sits heavily on the edge of his cot. \"I...\" He shakes his head, not able to say more.

[Gurtir(#30678)]

A sharp nod recieves Thingalad\'s words Ceredir\'s, nothing.

Gurtir takes off his boots and his tabard, reclining himself.

[Thingalad(#32030)]

Thingalad turns then to leave the tent, not looking back.

After a moment, Ceredir too, rises to follow after his brother. He pauses at the tent flap. \"If I do not get a chance to say so before...then...goodbye. I will not forget the lessons you taught me and I will try to live up to the standards you have always set. I swear this.\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

For several seconds, no reply comes. Then Gurtir speaks.

\"Aim higher still. I am not satisfied with myself.\"

\"Yes, sir.\" Ceredir nods slowly, and like Thingalad, salutes. \"Is there...any messages you wish me to carry?\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

\"First tell me why did the boy believe two of us might want to go back to our camp? Have we been so evident?\", the Captain asks.

Ceredir shakes his head. \"No....I do not think so. I think it has to do with the priestess showing up--that Alphros is allied with the Enemy.\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

\"Just say... that it is all for Gondor. All.\"

Silence.

When will Gurtir\'s voice be ever heard again?

\"I will.\"

Ceredir stands, still, by the tent flap.

[Gurtir(#30678)]

No reply. Nevermore?

[Thingalad(#32030)]

Thingalad doesn\'t look back. It is too painful, even for a Man of Gondor.

With a heavy sigh, Ceredir slips out of the tent.