A Middle Earth Story: The Corsairs of Oros

Chapter One: A Crew for Captain Oros /Part Two

"A lady's got to have her privacy," was all Fendwall said as he shovered her roughly into the room and locked the door. Es spun around and yelled,

"You can't keep me forever!"

"Aye," Fendwall returned, "if it had been up to me you'd be at the bottom of the harbor right now. I ain't keepin' you, lass. The Captain is."

Es made a strangled noise and kicked the door. Laughter came from the other side. I'll have your fancy skin for this she fumed.

...

"Where's that Gondorian rat?" Oros demanded, pacing the poop deck. Fendwall leaned against the railing. He glanced at the rising sun.

"Sleeping be my guess," he replied evenly. Oros scowled and glared at the deck below. The surge of pride that came with spotlessly clean decks wasn't there. A captain always knew when his decks hadn't been cleaned and the White Raider's had not been.

"Well, get 'im up here!" Oros ordered. "I didn't pick 'im outta that elf dungeon so he could sleep all day."

"Aye, Cap'n," Fendwall sighed and pushed himself off the railing and vaulted off the poop deck, landing solidly on the main deck below. He thumped noisily to the room across Es' and pounded on the door.

"Oi! Caston, git up, boy! Sun's up," Fendwall shouted. A muffled thump came from inside Caston's room. Fendwall hammered the door again. Paused. Hammered again. Nothing. "A'right, that's it," he muttered. Using his full weight, Fendwall forced the door open. It hit the wall with a bang and creaked slowly back toward him.

Fendwall surveyed the messy room with abhorrence. Sheets and dirty clothing lay strewn across the floor, looking like a gale had come through. The room reeked of drink. A second glance saw a dozen bottles littered among the mess. In the middle of it all lay Caston, bottle in hand and bruise forming on his forehead.

Fendwall roared wordlessly, grabbed the bottle and smashed it against the wall. Caston jerked from his stupor and tried to rise. Fendwall grabbed his arm and dragged him out onto the deck. Caston was too drunk to offer any real resistance.

"Ya drunk?" Fendwall demanded, shaking the boy. Caston didn't answer. Fedwall shook him again. "I asked if yer drunk. Answer me, boy!"

Oros pushed Fendwall away before the Lossoth could do anything permanent. The captain stared down at the reeling Caston with pity and disappointment in his hard eyes. Caston looked at Oros and flinched, quickly looking away again.

"Caston," Oros said, almost as a warning, "look at me."

Caston slid his gaze slowly up to meet Oros' steely stare. His head swam and his stomach roiled, threatening to empty itself. His dark hair plastered to his sweaty, pale skin tinged green with sickness.

"Why?" Oros asked. Caston shook his head. Fendwall snorted and kept pacing the width of the deck. Oros sighed and pinched the bridge of his thick nose. "Boy, yer headed down a dark place. I don't know what you all done to git 'ere, but you'll git no further on mah ship. I pulled ya outta tha' cell you were rottin' in an' I don't want to send ya back," Oros glared at a sullen Caston, "but I will if ya don't shape up."

"Yes," Caston croaked.

"I can't hear you," Oros shouted, pleased to see Caston wince.

"Aye, captain," Caston replied forcefully. Shouting only made his headache worse and his stomach more unsettled.

"Clean yerself up and git this deck cleaned," Oros ordered and walked away. "And don't puke on it," he threw over his shoulder. Caston ran for the railing and heaved the sour contents of his stomach into the harbor. Ten minutes later he was lying on the deck exhausted and all but dead to the world. Fendwall was pacing again, muttering quietly. Caston didn't bother trying to listen. He didn't want to. He knew Fendwall didn't like him and wouldn't try to see him as anything but a ship rat destined for the bottom of the sea. It was Oros Caston owed his debt to and until he could get off this ship he had to act like a respectable human.