Warrior of Gondor - Corsairs of Umbar

Chapter 4

Warrior of Gondor – Corsairs of Umbar

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, the Hobbit or Middle-Earth. The genius writer J.R.R. owns them. I only own the plot and the OC's.

Silevon's POV

The next day the company of captain Thorongil were still in the farmer's area. It would be another day to help the inhabitants with their daily tasks. Today was better planned than the day before. Most warriors would help with painting or building; Jobs that had been delayed because of lack of men. Finally after many pleads to the Steward help would come.

Silevon was not scheduled for such tasks. He had to assist the second in command with choosing a fit, healthy and well behaving horse from one of the farmer's stalls. Together they headed out after the midday meal towards the local stalls to meet up with the owner.

When they arrived, a man immediately hurried over to the two. He introduced himself as Mr. Gibson. The second in command and him got a click straight away – they were very much alike. Or at least looked alike, for you never knew if it was just salesmen behaviour. Silevon followed the two men who were heading to the more maintained part of the stalls. If he knew one thing about the second in command was the fact that the man had only eye for expensive things which he could show off. He recalled something about him explaining it was a way of displaying power. He himself thought it to be a ridiculous reason to buy something for a big amount of money while you could buy the same thing for a lower price. What was the difference?

Soon enough the two had forgotten about his presence. Both of them were too caught up in talking about wealth, power and the magnificent horses available for sale. Neither of the subjects were much of Silevon's interests. He stood slumped against the open wooden door, observing his surroundings as he normally did. This action he continued several times, until he spotted a black haired man around the age of twenty-two or twenty-three years old. He wore the outfit of a rider and held a helmet between his right arm. His expression was disapprovingly – he didn't seem all too satisfied with what was taking place in the room. To be honest, neither did he. The salesman didn't talk about the horses as if they were another living organism on Middle-Earth but if they were a prize. His captain's second in command spoke with a conceited tone and stood in a very imitate posture. Not two people you should cross.

After five minutes the stranger still stood with his arms crossed staring at the three of them. The salesman and owner had also noticed him. From time to time, he had glanced in his direction with a frown on his face. He definitely wasn't a favourite. Silevon didn't care much about it; It wasn't his business. His task was to assist the second in command with the horse of his choose. In other words, he had to take the horse back to the camp with them. He couldn't imagine the second in command doing that – he was too conceited to do so. Lucky for him, he had some experiences with horses. His own father had owned a few horses, all carrying warriors. When he had been little, his dad would often taken him along to the stables to learn him a few things about the training and nursing of the horses. He only hoped that the way he learned in his home was the same in Gondor, otherwise he would be in big trouble.

“Jamie, why don't you give our guest's servant a tour around the stables? I would appreciate it a lot.” The salesman finally suggested to the stranger. Silevon's head turned with the speed of lightning to him. He was met by the cold, icy eyes of the rider. It seemed that he wouldn't get a too pleasant tour. Not that he minded, of course. He was after all only a servant, wasn't he? Stupid man, he thought to himself.

The stranger agreed with a scowl on his face to the owner. “Sure, why not?” He mentioned Silevon to follow him. He did what was wanted and followed him out of the damp and uncomfortable room.