Black Hand - the Numenorean's tale - part II

It was dusk of power of Numenor, and he felt it promptly. 

Aivendil was sitting on wide balcony of royal chamber, the same he lived since childhood, time he wished to forget. 
Sky was darkening slowly on the East, still bright with pure gold of sunset at Western shores. Warm light painted prince's face, fair, of regular features, similar to one of statues carved in pure marble in palace main hall, made mostly by elven craftsman. Some were saying, young prince looked more as one of elven kin rather than human, as in his mother's veins flew elvish blood. She was know from exceptional beauty and that trait her son inherited; yet nothing from queen's mildness left in him and his heart was merciless and cold as stone.

Many feared the day, when young prince of Numenor will take the power over whole land. And this day seemed close; the king wasn't old yet, not as for numenorean measure, yet his mind was devoured by sickness. Each passing year, fortunetellers and scammers were leaving palace with sacks full of gold and treasures, some stay in palace for longer time to poison man's mind with their vague prophecy. 
Aivendli would gladly throw them all from the island, or even better, executed before, yet there was no way for him decide about such things - as long as the king lived and was conscious enought to articulate his will. 

He knew, all those prophecies were mostly about fall of Numenor, which may happen soon or later, making the king fearful and upset. He was told, making sacrifice to Elder Gods may appease their wrath, so in whole Numenor started to burn sacrificial pits, smelling with mysterious eastern herbs and incense, accompanied by priests making their prayers for Manwe... or some, for other, darker Gods.  
Aivendil was disgusted. Many times he tried to convince king's advisors for concel such barbarian practices, before whole city will drown in chaos, the more, it seem more and more people spoke about the End of Times and "wrath of Gods"; in vain. Only thing, he could do was to organize armed expeditions through the see, to find other lands and colonize it's shores. At his order Numenor raised few new harbors - on the East and South.
One of quests, he lead himself. It was the last quest in passing year; numenorean ships reached port Umbar and marched through southern lands. Prince discovered enclaves of people with numenorean ancestors, though their blood was more like a water and no much of Numenor's kin left in their heirs. He saw Khad and Harad and all it's miracles, what made him longing to see more. It was a wild, desert land with wild people, who practiced slavery and walked half-naked under the merciless southern sun. 

Yet, there was also a mysterious land far away, called Mordor. People turned their sight hearing it's name and no one wished to speak about, nor anyone seem to know where exactly it was, but all hands showed at direction of northern- east and all eyes turned away when he mentioned the name. 
- I want to know more about the land called Mordor. - said Aivendil to his officer, when called him to his tent - I don't care of cost, we must find out where is it and who rule it's lands. 
Officed bowed head and left, sending few people to ask around, who came with some weirdly looking creature, seeming more a half-man, half goblin. Aivendil never saw anyone like that and looked at the man with interest. He was icy and polite, offering the man wine and money in exchange for saying all he knew about Mordor. 
Creature took money greedily, looking at fair, young man with some fear and mock at same time, answering with some problems in Common Language, seeming to cost much effort to find words. It introduced self as Orgun-zaag, but people here called him Org, as mock of his origin, he explained. Aivendil didn't understand, asking more, but man couldn't or didn't want to explain. 
- Mordor is far from here, far... Behind the Great Desert. You can reach on... horses. - he said, all time avoiding numenorean's sight, looking to sides nervously as was afraid of something - But it's not a good place for... an elf.  
Aivendil narrowed eyes dangerously.
- I'm not an elf. Are you too blind to see?
Creature looked fast at his ears, when prince uncovered with angry movement from his dark hair. 
- Not an elf, indeed not. But matters not, it's not a good place also for men from West. - at same time he seemed greatly relieved for some reason, as was afraid deeply of elves, getting more talkative and seeming to loose some respect at same time, speaking more confidentionally. 
- I'll tell ye, man from West... Mordor is hot and desert, and other part is green and fertile, because of the Lake. But you'll find Him only among the desert, close to volcano, close to the Tower.
 - Who are you talking about? Who is "he"?
Short man gave him fast glance, this time straightly and for short moment his yellowish- slanted eyes met other's gray. 
- It's Master. Soon, you'll hear about him on the far West. 
- Who's master? Answer! - creature made gesture as shrugging, seeming unable to find words to describe - What you mean by those words? Is he the king of this land? 
- Yes, yes.. A King. A great king of old. 
Aivendil questioned  the man for some time, before finally he ordered to release him, not sure if what heard made him knowing more or even less. Many question bothered him and he decided to stay alone for rest of night, vaguelly wondering why didn't order to kill strange ugly man. He concluded, must be because of one thing they had in common - the slanted eyed seemed to hate elves. 
That was very uncommon; majority of people almost worshiped them. Elves were the First Kin, as legend says, the first born - oldest, most beautiful and wisest of creatures. They were living in mysterious woods and white beaches of North and West, sometimes coming to teach humans of trade. Aivendil hated them deeply, not knowing exactly why. It was something repulsive in their way of behave, they way they showed superiority, making him boiling of fury each time, their white ships were coming to Armenelos. They made beautiful things, he had to admit, like all kinds of weapon or crafts, but people of Numenor were built better ships. He noticed easily, elves intentions were's so pure; they liked to teach humans the art of crafting things, but always telling only as much, as found convenient. They refused openly to teach magic in every it's shape, as well as forbidden crafts and wisdom, as were having right to secrete knowledge, as parent does to stupid child.  

- They're using us as a working cast! - he screamed once in hatred to the king, when that told him about plans of closer alliance for sea-trade that came form their Noldor allies - They teach us only what they find safe for them! They made us useful, in the way we made useful the cattle and horses! We work for them, in exchange for what? Some stupid trinkets, objects that has no use. - he grabbed beautiful, delicate vase and cast it on floor, making it break in hundreds of shiny pieces - What a use we have from this?! From vague prophecy and pompous words? We don't need their blessing, let them pray alone to their gods in Valinor! Let them fight with their own enemy, far beyond our borders! We have nothing to do with that! 

That day king answered him with strong slap on face, ordering guards to escort the prince to his own chamber. Aivendil never forgot that humiliation, nor he supported the policy of alliance with elves. 
Deep inside, he also related his mother's death to the day, when elven emissaries came to the castle.


Prince woke up early, as always, restless and alert. He narrowed eyes, for a moment looking at bright ceiling and courtains without understanding, after a short moment realizing it was not his chamber but spacius tent, in middle of wild soutern lands. 
White canvas let in bright, slightly dispersed light and the air seemed far warmer and dry. Aivendil lay for some time without move, trying to get rid of scattered memories and bad dreams, feeling his hearth gradually slow down. He slept only in underwear as days were unbearably hot, despite that and early hour, feeling already whole body sweated. His dark hair glued to forehead, when he got up, washing face and palms in small bowl with water brought by soldier. 
It was shortly after the sunrise, yet he heard steps and sounds of waking camp life; people were eating and preparing to road. 

They were travelling for two weeks, in unbearable scorcher of merciless sun, when first horses started to die. 
People were thirsty and tired. All covered in dust and sand, which seemed more gray as ash, than white as sand on Numenor's shores. Air was thick, as it seemed to weight itself. 
Aivendil was no less thirsty. He ate and drank just to survive, as his men, trying to safe supplies, which they couldn't make up as nothing green lived here, on the desert, nor they saw any sign on animals different than spider, scorpions and snakes. 
It was hot, so hot, as he never felt before. His face was now pinched by strong, hot wind that carried sand, that glued to his sweated skin. He covered face with scarf what helped much, yet was even harder to breath. His horse seemed to walk unsteadily, as was going to fall any time, having hard, wheezing breath and dried foam on muzzle; it's always shiny, black fur was now dirty and mat. 
When another horse fell in hours, first officer joined him on the head of caravan. 
- My lord, we should turn back. Soon no horse will be able to carry it's rider, and without them death awaits us here. - Aivendil didn't answer, tightening lips, looking at merciless, bright sky almost with hatred - My lord? People have no strength... We have no more water... 
Prince tighetned fist on saddlebow. 
- Turn back. 
Man seemed surprised but greatly relieved, wiping sweated forehead. 
- Yes, my lord. Thank you. - he turned to people, forcing horse to move in trot, screaming - Turn back! Prince's order! 
His shout was welcomed by many cheers, though some men were too weak, just staring apathetically, moving along with others. 


It was a long road. 
Aivendil licked chapped lips, feeling his tongue dry in mouth and painful. He took the canteen and dropped few water in mouth, sighing when warm and musty liquid flowed down his throat. Indeed, they decided to turn back in last moment, as few days more, they wouldn't be able to get out from the desert.
He was fully aware of own mistake. Blinded with will to find new land, he put whole quest in great danger. Now they were on way back, day by day weaker. 
Eight more horses died, before they reached finally first civilized place, seeing from far first trees and dusty roads; soon feeling in the wind salty taste of sea. Many people were walking on foot, some on horses as stronger gave place to those, who got too weak to walk. 
Prince still was in saddle when they entered the paved road of Umbar. Sudden, he felt shook and strong hit, when his mount finally fell on knees and then on side, knocking him out of saddle, almost crushing his leg. 
Aivendil got up, helped by first officer, arranging clothes and taking own sacks from ground, carrying it on own back. 

They finally entered the city, dusty and dirty, seeming more a bunch of wraiths than knights. Once shiny armors were mat, clothes seeming in rags. They lost one man, who was stung by scorpio and another cause of sunstroke. They back with nothing. Aivendil ordered to search for goblin-like man who told them to go through desert, yet no one saw him in the city since days. 

Prince entered own cabin on the ship, hearing his people's voices, who were thanking loudly for saving, praying to Ulmo or other gods, blessing the sea. Some were vomiting instantly after drank too much water at once and one fainted. 
He was very tired, sitting some time without move, before ordered to prepare bath and call a medic. He undressed slowly, with effort, throwing useless clothes on ground, seeing sand that was still  in folds of material and boots, unable to get rid of. He entered the tub finally, sitting till water reached his chest. He looked at own body, noticing, lost much weight, concluding must be mostly because of dehydration. He had also sunburns over face and arms and serious abrasions over palms and inner side of thighs, from long horse riding. 
He watched all damage made to own body without much care, too tired to think, just soaping self slowly and washing hair that were hanging in dirty strands. 

It was late afternoon when he finally felt better after sat, already clean, with still wet hair, to evening meal which was modest for Numenor's court standards, but now seem a real feast. He uncovered the plate which contained friend fish and cooked lobster, served with vegetables and southern fruits with sweet wine. 
After the meal, he called first officer who made short report about people's state, which improved beside one oldest soldier, who seemed to have constant problems with breathing. Aivendil ordered to send medic to his bed for whole night. 

Morning looked much better, though unlucky soldier died in middle of night, too late for rescue. Medic said, man was old and his heart haven't bear merciless sun and thirst. Man's body was taken with all honors and lied in empty ramp, for his family could bury it in Numenor. 
Prince looked at bright sky, covered over horizon with delicate fluff of clouds that presaged good weather and good winds. 
- We're going back. Order to sail. 
Officer saluted. 
-Sir. The quest wasn't lucky, but I hope for our return. 
Aivendil didn't answer, letting him go, staring far horizon, but not in direction of homeland. He looked intensively at port of Umbar, secretly reluctant to leave. He didn't like the city itself, nor dirty, noisy people who lived here, but he was curious what lay beyond it's borders; the desert must have it's end somewhere. 

The way back was peaceful. Wind gave them favor, pushing the white ship fast and smoothly through wide waters of Western Sea. Days were passing all the same, fine and calm. 
Aivendil felt much better and his body regained strength after feral quest, and strangely also his mind seemed to get better. He was sleeping short still, having nightmares which he didn't even remember, waking up coiled and trembling, in sweated sheets, though he was waking up with clear mind, feeling just fever of curiosity each time, thought about mythical land behind the desert. 
Even it's name seemed to give him shiver, when he whispered it few times, sitting alone. It was his new obsession and he was sure, soon or later, will figure out if rumors were truth. It made his mind busy, letting forget about venom that flow inside since years. He woke up everyday right at dawn, dressing and going out of his cabin for breath with fresh air and look at endless horizon, feeling sea mist on face and pin of fear in heart each time, remembered of Numenor. 
 
Travel ended soon, faster than he expected as winds were strong. His eyes widened slightly when saw in far horizon first, thin line of the land, hearing at same time the sailor screaming from foretop.  



Along his expectations, quest was considered the most unlucky from years and he had to face soon families of three deceased men, as custom required for captain to give condolences and compensation in gold for each sailor that died on his watch.

He meet in burial chamber woman in late fifties with many children around and her adult daughter, both having black veil over faces, mourning lost husband and father. Then came sister of another man and his parents in tears and as last, just a single person - young widow with face calm and distant as in shock. 
Prince got up, stiff and official, dressed in black, giving her short reverence when she bowed first, offering then a casket containing gold, as well men's belongings that could have some value. 
Young widow didn't look at him, taking it from his hands, receiving his short condolences. 
She opened the casket, taking out sac with gold, sudden throwing at his feet, finally looking at his face with burning sight, crying. 
- This won't bring him back!!! Can you give me back my husband?! Can you?! We were just a months after marriage... I carry his child! - she almost fall, going back to door, angrily disentangling from prince's grip, who hold her forearm, protecting from fall - Don't touch me! It was your fault, heartless monster!!! 

Aivendil stopped, taking hand back and letting woman go, who almost run crying, pressing to her breast husband's belongings. 
He looked behind her expressionless, after a moment turning back and giving sign for end the ceremony. 

This evening he could't calm down, having hands shaking noticeably, unable to find peace. All the time, he had woman's face before eyes, but it wasn't pity about of her loss; he didn't care, but she remind him own mother. Dark, wavy hair and that strange mix of weakness and boldness...
He found himself squeezing hardly the table's edge, pushing then own temples with sudden painful howl, after buried head in arms. 
When he lifted head after some time, his face could scare as seem a face of tormented, fallen spirit. His eyes were burning, reddish but still dry, as all tears he shed long ago.
He moved palms along face, pressing strongly, calming down finally and being able to get up from table and look at mother's small portrait that had all time close, wearing it inside silver medallion on long chain, fondling it among fingers when stood on balcony, staring at far horizon.

He went to rest very late, having eyes reddish as in fever, unable to sleep. He lay on his back with eyes wide open, though unseeing. Instead of painted ceiling, he saw in mind mix of many images from past and from last day, remembering deceased young soldier, trying to fit his image with young widow, imaging how would be their meeting, if could really bring him back.
After some time, he slid hands over own chest muscles, feeling skin very sensitive under touch, pleasuring self for some time, letting go single, deep sigh on end, closing eyes and falling asleep finally. 

----

Next day was even worse; he was informed, the king was awaiting him. 
Prince dressed as was going for official meeting, thanking in mind, meeting was marked in main chamber, during the dinner, instead in king's private rooms. 
He entered the place stiff, seeing his father sitting already behind the table. King was eating without manners, dropping some food and using fingers for split the meat pieces, having some tomato-juice on beard, making him sick.
- Your majesty. Father. 
Aivendil stood in some distance, according to the label. King looked at him, whipping mouth without hast, making him wait to show disregard.
- I'm disappointed... - he spoke finally, starting very calmly. It was very bad sign. - ... The quest, as I heard, was feral. You lost three people and almost twenty good horses...
- Fifteen, your majesty. 
- HOW YOU DARE TO INTERRUPT ME?! - king sudden throw own plate at him, getting red on face - I should order to whip you!!! Ungrateful bastard!
Prince stood stiff, defying his furious glare, not saying a word. 
- Do you have something for for excuse self?! Hm?!
- No, my king, I have nothing to excuse. It was my mistake and... 
- INSOLENT!  And you shall bear the consequences! - he throw the mug on ground, getting up wit difficulty, as with age his once powerful built overgrown with fat from too much feasts, wine and beer - You'll never again waste MY people and MY money for your stupid whims! You'll NEVER, EVER again leave Numenor without my permission, understood?! 
Aivendil got pale, with just cheek reddish of sudden fury, folding fists. 
- Who will guide the trade and quest then?! Numenor needs external policy!
- I'll give all power in that matter to Amadil. - king hissed - He's at least obedient and and more competent than you... 
- That's bullshit! - Aivendil grittd teeth. Amadil was first lieutenant of sea fleet, blindly following orders, known also from being corruptible - If you give such power to that idiot, you'll lose everything! He's unable to handle simply negotiation!
King sudden throw at his face heavy chalice, walking slowly in his direction with red face, seeming more a furious boar than a man. He stopped inches from prince, who didn't move back, despite great will to do it, hissing right on his face.
- I'll teach you respect... Ungrateful, stubborn cub... Your mother was same... I should have... - he sudden stopped, getting stiff, turning away as sudden as approached - Get out of my sight! NOW!

Aivendil finally moved back, walking fast and jostling two guards in front of door, almost running. 
He felt again as little boy, at same time terrified and boiling in hatred, having tears in eyes when locked in own room. 
- I hate you, I hate you... - he repeated in whisper, holding ragged breaths - I'll kill you... One day... 

---- 

A year lasted since feral quest and Aivendil haven't left Numenor, being practically at home arrest. 
He didn't care that much, until heard about first negotiation failed and contracts made be newly appointed captain of the sea fleet. To his bitter satisfaction, Numenor bear looses in gold, cheated by cunning and greedy people from South. 
Himself, he was bored and completely downcasted, spending time on reading, fencing lesson, taking active part just in local politic, as was excluded form real, important matters. 
Court people were gossiping about his fall from grace, making even suppostition, he may get disinherited and deprived from  the crown. 
King's health wasn't best those days and he seem worse and worse both physically and mentally. Aivendil was glad of that, but it didn't make his situation even a bit better. Natural law considered him as a heir, but he was full aware, real or properly false testament could deprive him from everything, even from place in palace, in worst case making him an outcast without any right to the throne. 
He was frustrated and only thing that made his life bearable on that time was sudden awaken interest in history of eastern lands. He was reading everything about, including books wrote in Tengwar, which he mastered at his youth. 
Name Mordor didn't appear though in any of writing, so he concluded it must have been something fresh, despite the name seem coming from forgotten languages of old; he started to send letters to scholars, receiving though nothing that would satisfy his curiosity. 

One day, he heard it though in completely unbeliveable circumstances. 

----

On first day of spring, to Numenor arrived legation from Noldor. It wasn't anything uncommon, as elves had a trade policy with island, but uncommon was rush they came in, as well character of the mission. They send two ships instead of one, both seeming prepared for war; with heavy pennants flapping on the wind and sides decorated with special bow-man positions. 
Legation came off the deck with war horses, heavily armored, making simple people panic when were seem on sea shore. First gossip came with speed of lighting and people stared to talk, before they even reach the palace - "War is coming!"

Visit was so unexpected, the king wasn't prepared, sending the prince for first talks, leaving to him duty of receiving elven emissaries. 
Aivendil prepared self in minutes, ordering all armored soldiers to stay in formation in front of entrance, feeling chilly shiver run down the spine when saw legation coming to the gates. 
He was expecting anything, but not that what heard. 
Very tall, fairhaired elf lord dismounted and walked to him in long steps, rising the visor. 
- Where is the king of Island of Numenor? I desire much to speak with him, immediately. 
Aivendil was unarmed, in his official robes, with just a sword tucked to belt, yet he answered elf lord's sight without hint of fear, speaking coldly. 
- I did not hear you name, elf lord. The one, who demands to speak with the king, should give it first.
Fairhaired warrior answered with equally indifferent expression, though in his voice sounded surprise and rage.
- Bold servants the King has. News about your status reached us, prince. I'll give you my name though; I'm Haldir, son of Lindir. As the prince is no longer entitled to part in external policy, I wish to speak with the King himself as we came in great rush and need. 
Aivendil swallowed the humiliation with stone-face.  He wasn't as tall as the elf lord, yet looked straight at his eyes all time, as defying, seeming somehow the one in advantage. 
- Let me then welcome thy in Armenelos. King isn't prepared yet for negotiation. I'm terribly sorry, but legation will need to wait, lord Haldir. - he narrowed eyes, adding in fluent elvish, with slight accent - I hope, you'll enjoy your stay. 
He gave fast, almost mocking reverence and turned back, walking away and leaving the man pale of fury, in middle of parade square.
- You don't understand the gravity of situation! You'll pay for your insolence!

----

Yet, elves haven't invade the palace.
It was almost an evening, when legation finally was received in meeting room. Proceedings started immediately, as Haldir insisted. King was doing everything to wipe off bad impression, making Aivendil the more sure, he will agree with everything that Noldor postulate.
Himself, prince was excluded from negotiations and everything he could do was waiting impatiently till the meeting's end.

Finally, elven legation, king and his advisors left the meeting room.
Aivendil spotted the youngest member of council, and fall on him as a hawk.
- What was the matter of meeting?! Tell me all.
Man looked at his face, scared of his feverish glance. Prince pressed him to the wall, grabbing by front of his robe.
- They came with terrible news.. The white ships are going to war.. To the eastern shores... To fight against the lord of land called Mordor... - prince eyes widened and he pushed the man harder, hastening him to speak - ... Sir, please..! Legation said, the war is upon us all! They said... that Eregion was destroyed! - courtier looked at his face with eyes widened, sudden seeming to not afraid of him, but some other, unimaginable threat - They say... It can be the Ancient Enemy himself... 
- Bullshit... - prince murmured - It's just an old legend... 
- All that was foreseen, can't you see, sir?! Prophets were saying "And there will be soon the End, the Wrath of Gods, as people forgot to worship them and started to act by self... Doom will came from the sea and island itself will drown... When darkness raises it's head on the East"...
Aivendil snorted, now sure that king terrified with prophecies will do everything, elves wish.
- What do they want? 
- Legation asked for sending our ships... 
Aivendil sudden throw him harder on the wall, hissing at his face.
- What was king's decision?!
- He agreed... of course..
- How many?!! 
- Fifty hundred...  of men... 
- No!
- Sir! There's no other way! We must unite, or else we all shall perish!
Prince screamed in fury, punching the wall. 
He sudden let the man go, making him cough and almost fall, going away. 

----

Whole Palace was in state of nervous awaiting. News spread fast and the king soon ordered to pass an order to the people - fifty hundred of armored man had to stay next day before the sunset on main square; ready for a war. 
Whole city was awaken till late, men preparing, sharpening their swords, oiling bow's chords and polishing armors; families mourning their sons, husbands and fathers, praying to Manwe for their safe return. 

King himself decided to stay at his homeland as his health was too poor to let him stay on the field. He passed whole power in hands of Amadil - now the first captain of fleet and it's formal leader. Prince received personal order to stay as one of soldiers under his command; it was Amadail himself, who delivered him the parchment with king's will, waiting till he read as was customary.
Weirdly, prince haven't fall in rage - he just smiled in disturbing way, that made Amadil feel chilly shiver run down the spine. He sudden thought, never before saw prince smiling and now that smile frightened him; sharp and narrow as blade's edge, seeming to not reach man's eyes. 
Amadil made reverence, turning and leaving with great relief, not willing to admit even to himself why his heart started sudden to pound so fast, nor why his palms were sweating. 

----

It was already late night hour.
Aivendil was sitting on bed's edge with face distant and empty, tearing the parchment with king's order on thousand little pieces that lay at his feet as small pile of snow. 
He tore it to the last piece, sitting for some time still, before got up finally, preparing travel clothes and armor. 

----

He walked through empty palace corridors, heading to the left wing, that beside the royal chambers, had the best rooms for guests. 
There was no living soul except few guards, who though just saluted him, staying still, well trained. 
Prince saw the last corridor ended with huge, double door. He opened it without hesitation - they weren't locked from inside. 

He entered the spacious chamber, with bare sword in hand. 
To his surprise, elf lord wasn't asleep yet. He was sitting at the table, writing something that probably was a report for his supervisors.
Now, he lifted head, startled with sudden intrusion, narrowing eyes. 
Something in man's attitude made him alarmed; he overturned the chair getting up fast, grabbing his weapon. 
- What is this?! How dare you? - he started to encircle the table, not taking sight away from the prince, who stood motionless, with just a hand trembling slightly, what could be seem as his sword's blade seemed alive in his hands - I warn you, king's son... Why did you come?
Prince looked at him for a long moment, seeming pale as corpse, but spoke slowly and perfectly calm.
- I came to kill you, elf. 

Before elf lord could notice what was happening, prince jumped forward, making their swords meet with sharp sound of iron clattering, forcing him to move back, who was shocked with man's terrible speed that seemed to be born from raw, naked ire. They exchanged few blows, falling over the chairs and table; elf overturned it, throwing at the man, hoping for making him fall, yet prince just snarled, throwing heavy furniture away; yet it made his movements slower for a moment, loosing it's deadly rhythm, what was enough for experienced, elvish warrior. 
Prince gasped of surprise and pain, when fresh, red line appeared on his forearm, making his hand numb for a moment. He felt fear for the first time, but didn't let other to use opportunity, moving back and casting chair at him, attacking again when other was distracted, fast as a snake. 
They exchanged few more blows, before elf sudden groaned lowly with burning, blinding pain that pierced through his stomach. 
Prince wrenched out the blade brutally, which came out wet and crimson, kicking the elf, who fall on knees. Their eyes met and moments later prince grabbed his hair and cut his throat; he sliced too deep and almost cut off men's head, letting the body fall. 

After short hesitation, he grabbed man's hair again, cutting his head off totally, wrapping it in a big scarf, as in a sack, taking off also his royal ring. 

He sudden had to sit, doing it clumsily on last remaining chair, when world blackened for a long moment.
Aivendil shook his head, leaning down, though it seem to not pass, so he backhanded own face strongly, what finally brought him back to his senses.
He was sitting motionless for some time, staring the bloody mess on floor, when heard sudden knocking to door. He got up in panic, sure those were guards, who must heard noise of furniture falling over, grabbing tighter the sword. 

Yet, it was just one elf; that one was dark-haired and shorter, dressed as high-rank soldier. Aivendil guessed, it was first officer under elf-lord's command. 
Elf froze for a moment, staring at butchery which the room changed in, then following sight at the man who stood there all bloody and pale. He tried to bare own weapon, but Aivendil was faster; they didn't change more than one blow before he stabbed with dagger. 
Elf tried to take the blade out with bloody fingers, but prince grabbed his hair and pulled head back, slicing his throat. 
He was panting, doing same as before and cutting off man's head, throwing it together with the first one, wrapping the bloody sack. 
He closed the door neatly, locking it this time, before started to snitch among elf lord's belongings. He found finally what needed - a big leather sack used for travelling, throwing all content off without care and forcing bloody bundle inside. 
He cleaned self cautiously, observing water getting red in bowl, while he washed hands and face, discovering also much blood over sleeves and jacket, though as material was black, it seem hard to notice, specially from far. He looked at own wound - it was long, thin line over the whole forearm; a clean cut seeming to close, though he was bleeding heavily. He secured the wound with clean tissue, pulling the sleeve down and checking own image in mirror, surprised how normally was looking. 

Then, he left the room with his macabre burden on back, carrying it to own chamber. 
 
He changed clothes, surprised when noticed the night was still dark and deep, as for him it seem to pass whole hours.
He went straight to the stable, ordering one man to prepare own horse. The man seemed sleepy and very surprised, as was the late night hour, but he stopped asking questions, when Aivendil showed him golden coin. 
When the horse was ready, prince climbed on it's back, directing to entrance gates. He made a slight movement, almost unnoticeable changing body position and cut fast with bared sword - groom fall on knees with single choking sound, dying before understood what just happened. 

----

Aivendil rode for the rest of night in wild canter and right before the dawn reached the haven on tired horse that foamed from muzzle. 
He dismounted, looking around. It was dark and cold still, but slowly, on the east, sky was getting brighter. The sea was very calm; just a delicate wind made water flow and foam at the base of moll and ships. Air was wet, soaked with salty smell of the sea and morning mist. 

Aivendil spotted a slender bark and walked at it's direction, leading exhausted horse behind. 
Despite very early hour, haven wasn't empty and many fishermen already prepared to another day of work. Men were shouting some greeting, orders and curses, unfolding ropes and preparing fishing nets. 
All seemed to look from time to time at the white ships, that were staying calmly at the shore, guarded by elves in golden armors, carrying over it's tops the flag of Noldor kingdom. 

Aivendil pulled the hood deeper, following to chosen bark. He saw tanned, sinewy man, who was busy with folding ropes, not even looking at him. 
Prince stooped right in his front, only then making him lift his eyes, narrowed in unpleasant grimace. 
- What?!
- I want to hire that bark. 
- Get the fuck out, dandy! I don't have time for idiotic jokes!
Aivendil suddenly pulled the dagger out, pressing to man's throat, who's eyes widened in fear. He tried to speak, yet only chocking sound let out of his mouth, when prince hissed.
- Stay still... - he grabbed man's oily hair, grimacing, while make him look up - I said, I need to hire that bark. 
- Yeah... Sure... - man's eyes sudden widened, when he recognized the prince - Oh my gods... 
- Silence! Now listen. - Aivendil spoke very lowly, looking attentively straight in fisherman's eyes - I want you to take me to the Eastern Shores. But not to Umbar. We'll moor at North, close to Dol Amroth. Then, each of us will go his own way. If you do it right, I'll give you so much gold, you won't need to work for the rest of your life. But if you betray me... - dagger's blade pressed harder on man's trachea - I'll bleed you. Understood? 
- Y-yes... 
- Swear. 
- I swear! I fucking swear! 
Man was finally released, falling back on planks, looking at the prince as beaten dog - at same measure with fear, resentment and fury. 
Aivendil knew that kind of look already, thinking nothing better he could get from this miserable man. 
- Prepare fast, we're running out of time. - he showed to the man a single coin, throwing it on dirty planks - This is an advance. 
Fisherman got up unsteadily, leering from under narrowed eyebrows; all time cautious of sudden movements when picked the coin, that quickly disappeared inside his clothes. 
- Go that way... Sir... Under the roof. We're sailing in hour. 
- A half. I told you, time is precious. 
- Right... A half. - fisherman turned to the deck, yelling to young man who was walking slowly, dragging heavy nets - FYRMYN!!! MOVE YOUR ASS HERE! WE'RE SAILING! Leave the nets, idiot!

----

Aivendil walked under the deck, as sailor said, looking around with sigh. It was dirty and disgusting cabin, with two bunks hung under the ceiling, though as far as he saw, it seem the best place on the bark. 
Ship itself looked neglected, yet strong and what's most important, fast. He was looking for some ship that was small enough to not strike the eye and at same time big enough for achieve a good speed. This one seem perfect for his purposes, though he didn't trust it's owner more that he would to venomous snake. The man was scared, but looked the type who likes to have his revenge. Aivendil though knew more than a basic about sailing and navigation, so he concluded, will be able to discover if man tried to deceive him. 
He cleaned more or less dirty stool and sat, putting own belongings close to the bunk, keeping all weapon and money close to body.
He uncovered right hand from bandages, seeing the wound already closed and bleeding ceased, what made him relieved. Last thing he needed, was infection. 

They left the haven at dawn, not bothered by anyone. Aivendil was wondering if the palace already was waking up to see his crime and discover his missing. 
Soon it got very warm and prince undressed till shirtless, sweating still under the roof. He went out, on the deck and observed thinning line on horizon, that was the island of Numenor; quickly fading till finally was unseen. 

The bark was gliding fast and easily through calm water surface, foaming over the prow. It had the name "Chimera", what he noticed, seeing it carved in wood under the feet of fantasy statue of naked woman with snakes over her head and trident in her hand, staying proudly at the prow. 
It was six men, beside him, together with tanned captain. One was young and other four seemed in their late forties, each of them dirty and rough, with water - beaten face and long beard. 
None of them spoke to him, seeming to avoid his look what made him satisfied. 

----

Seven days passed on the open sea and no sign of ships was seen, what made the prince calm down. He concluded, Chimera had much chances to escape the heavy war ships in a chase and it wouldn't reach them before the moor, or maybe the king was forced by elves to move to war without further delay. Though, he would be surprised, if Noldor wouldn't try to take revenge for killing one of high born. 
He was all time alert, almost going without sleep, waking up at nights at the lightest sound. He also keep the weapon close always, even trying to rest or working on a deck if that was necessary. 

Another day was very hot. It was calm over the sea, which seem to barely floating, without a single gust of wind. 
- Take a course fifteen degrees at North. - Aivendil said to the captain, observing him and his men sweating in merciless sun, trying to take some wind in sails, without much luck. 
Sailor looked at him with hidden anger. 
- Now, ye'll teach me how to sail?!
- Do it. We have no time to waste.
- That way we'll take wrong course... - man made a quarter of turn with rudder, complaining under his breath - Then it will came the wind and push us on northern currents... 
- It won't happen. We just catch some speed and then correct the course. 
Man just cursed again, spitting outside the rail.

It helped a bit and soon, the ship was moving slowly but surely in right direction. Aivendil was nervous, hitting nails on the rail and looking tirelessly around, sometimes using telescope, trying to spot a danger.
The wind was growing on strength, changing in few hours from light breeze to quite strong. It was all time getting stronger, at night already whistling among the rails and ropes, making all men looking at the darkening sea with fear. 
Aivendil was working together with six men, now all being shirtless and sweated, cursing heavily trying to correct ship's course which all time seem to go too fast, grabbed both by strong wind and northern current. 
- Take the spinaker off! Bind the ropes! Move, you rats!!! - captain looked at the sky with worry, seeming to whisper prayers under his breath while fixed the steering wheel that was longer unable to hold - Osse, have mercy for us.... 

It was dark already, when they removed all sails, beside the side ones. All were now trembling of cold, when strong wind took off all warm, whipping their bodies with wet lashes. They dressed shirts and jackets, fighting all time with wild waves. The wind was now a powerful roar and among the darkness appeared first flashes of lightnings. A thunder echoed and storm started for good, among the rain which though was unnoticeable, as even before everything was wet from water splashes. 
Aivendil was holding the rope, feeling as was fighting with alive creature that tried to move away from his grip, forcing him to resist and pull back with whole body strength, barely staying on slippery planks. Someone came to change him at the rope, right before he was sure, won't stand anymore. He gave it to the man, shouting something that other didn't heard in roaring wind, moving back very slowly, holding the rails. 
He moved back to the cabin, panting hard, soaked to the skin, with wet dark hair gluing to forehead. 
His hands were one spot of pain and he saw, each palm inside was lacerated till raw meat. 
He took some rest, trying to warm up, before again went out in the storm to help others. 

----

In the morning he woke up on the deck, laying on raw planks, bond with thick rope to the pole. His whole body was aching and he barely could move arms, feeling plucking in muscles. He felt also very cold, though first rays of sunrise already started to warm him up. 
He moved with difficulty, staying straight and looking around; the sky was clean, with just few delicate clouds over it and the sea again seemed friendly, having light, fresh breeze and perfect conditions to sail. 
He walked all over the deck, discovering four sailors working already to fix what storm destroyed; another one was missing, and the youngest was to sick and sore to help. All men were working in heavy silence, seeming destroyed by companion's death. They answered the prince, he was washed out from the deck probably, though no one saw it happen. 
- Another dead for the sea. - oldest one spit in the water - Sacrifices must be made. 
- One less to share money. - added another, being punched by the captain, who cursed him. 
Aivendil looked closely on each of men. 
- Which of you bond me to the pole? 
Oldest looked at him, showing rotten teeth. 
- Not me, certainly. 
- Fyrmyn did that, stupid brat. - captain said, not looking at the prince - We found you both under the pole, unconscious. 
- What with him? 
- He'll be alright. 
- Why you didn't stole me, when you had a chance? 
Man looked at him without smile, seeming offended. 
- I gave my word, dandy. Sailor's word means! Now, hope ye have your gold still... 
Aivendil gave him a long glance. 
- I do. And will be yours, as my word also means.
He sat without a word, dirtying his hands with tar and taking one side of a sail to fix cloth together with others. 

----

The day passed quickly and they didn't have chance to fix everything, but bark was sailing fast again, ploughing the seas without cease. 
Captain brought him small bowl full of some liquid. 
- Cooked oil. Will remove the tar. 
Aivendil wiped forehead, leaving dark mark over, after short hesitation using small cloth and wetting it in oil, cleaning hands. Then he handed it to others, getting up and going to the rail, watching the horizon. 
Sailor joined him, taking off a long pipe and putting in tobacco without haste.
- We're lucky for be alive, prince.
- Don't call me like that! 
- No one's listening and that stay between us. 
Aivendil gave him suspicious glance. He was wandering if shouldn't kill the man right after they come to haven. 
- I know, what ye're thinking... - sailor not even looked at him, smoking - I won't say anything. We just have business here. But I need to know, who's chasing us. If there's king's order... 
- That's not your damn business.
- I won't risk my head. 
- Then you'll die. Or you can earn so much, you won't need to came back to Numenor.
Sailor looked at him finally. 
- I don't know, what you have you done...  But you awoke Osse's wrath! It costed me one man!
- Superstitions... - prince snorted with contempt - It was just a storm.
Man turned sight away from him, again looking far at horizon. 
- Sacrifices must be made... You're young but not naive. Hope, you won't get the doom on us all... Your money smell with blood. Just as your travel sack... I don't want to know, what's in it, but I can feel the death's smell from you. People are sayin, your cursed....
- Everything will smell with blood soon. The war is upon the Island. I saved you all. 
- I hope, you're not wrong, prince.

----

Another days passed.
It was close already to the Eastern Shores, as Aivendil concluded by sight of birds. 
He stood motionless when darkness slowly fall over the endless horizon, observing bloody sunset. In his hand lay golden medallion with his mother's picture, immortalized in glass forever. 
He didn't make a single movement to stop tears rolling down his cheeks, trying to breath normally, suddenly reaching hand and casting medallion in the sea. 
It shone for the last time with gold, slowly disappearing into dark deepest of waters, making him sob for a last time, as his heart was going to shatter, trying to calm down. 

He finally returned to own cabin, where lay on narrow bunk, with pain of loss ripping his chest and mind. He prayed for consolation, not even knowing to whom, falling asleep after some time.
He dreamed about fire and Shadow, but it didn't make him scared.
He kneel before the Shadow keeping head low, whispering.
- I have a gift for you... O lord. 
He remembered a being and a voice, so powerful it seem more a sound of stones rolling down than a sound of human speech.
Yet, it spoke to him.
He remembered, it greeted him and showed him visions - as his spirit was taken away from body and could see the earth under, as was a hawk flying high. 
He saw the shores and Bay of Belfalas - the whole acres of land from Umabr till Dol Amroth, and the Great Desert that lay among the city of Corsairs. 
- You won't cross this way... - voice whispered to him - But I'll show you another path... 
And he saw huge, green lands, that lay beyond the Mountains, leading straight to black gates made of iron. There was a watchtower high, very high over slops of Ash Mountains, but it wasn't the way, Shadow wanted him to go. 
He saw the Iron Gate once again, having mind filled with knowledge that seem not spoken and yet, he understood all.
But that wasn't everything. 
- Downfall of Numenor will came...
To his eyes appeared images of ages passing, royal kin's falling and finally, cavalcade of golden ships; right before the island was destroyed. He saw huge wall of water falling over the land, drowning all under it's dark masses, what made him scream in fear as it seem as real as his own life. 
- You did well, leaving everything behind... Do not mourn... I'll take care of you... 
He had impression of someone comforting him, before he woke up suddenly with muffled groan, grabbing sweated sheets and staring with widened eyes in darkness of empty cabin. 

His breath calmed down soon and he forgot almost everything from the dream, yet in his mind was implanted knowledge and he knew exactly, which way should to go. 

----

At dawn he woke up as usually, going out of the cabin and checking horizon as routine. It was no sign of ships, nor clouds, beyond the morning mist. 
Sun got up higher and now he saw the thinnest suggestion of landline, far, far away. His hearth started to beat faster, when he took the telescope, making sure it was not an illusion. 
- The land! - he heard one man screaming from the top - The land before us!
- Dol Amroth... - he murmured under his breath, going down to the cabin again to prepare. 

They were sailing along the shore, looking for signs of haven. 
Aivendil was nervous, barely holding excitement, walking there and back again over the deck. Finally, they moor, being one of many barks that stood along the long moll. 
They got off the deck, being stared by local people, who seemed mostly the men from the North, as well having among few numenoreans and few southern. No one recognized the prince and he was glad about it; there was some risk though not high, someone may saw him in past at the court. 
One of sailors took out the trap and Aivendil brought his horse, which luckily wasn't hurt during the storm. He packed his belongings and turned to the captain, who stopped him roughly. 
- We had a deal! 
- Here's your gold. - numenorean handed him two sacks with coins - That's ten times more than this ship is worthy. 
Man opened and checked the content, followed by greedy look of his companions.
Aivendil looked the at the youngest. He took off own royal ring and handed to the man, who took it surprised. 

He turned fast, leading the horse, aware of movements behind his back, but none of men tried to attack him. 
He reached the end of moll and mounted the horse, which showed anxiety as on his back rested the sack, now having terrible smell of death on it, leaving in direction of the city for find place to stay at night. 

----