Lieutenant Arnyn Dealedwen
Headquarters, Training area behind the armoury
(Very early) Morning of September 10th - day 3 of Trastion's new training
"See you then," she repeated back to him with a smile. When he thanked her, she didn't really feel like she had done anything out of the ordinary, but she still nodded her recognition. "Feel free to have some water," she told him, thinking he might be thirsty after his sort-of run up here. The Lieutenant turned, intending to go wash up in the barracks and then return to headquarters, clean and ready for the day.
"And Taras," she said, looking to the side over her shoulder. "I like your commitment. Keep it up."
***
Headquarters, Command Office
(Later) Morning of September 10th
Every so often, she did this. She pulled up all of her notes. All of the plans. All of the gathered information. It needed to be committed to memory. Like basic arithmatics. Like language. If they were going to do this, she needed to be able to make connections and decisions at the snap of her fingers. If Pele might at some point ask for her input, Arnyn would have to be able to deliver.
She had been the one to push for this.
She had advocated for the mission. To Pele. To Elessar. That weight lay heavy on her shoulders.
Both the Captain and the King had called it dangerous and high-risk. They were correct, of course. Those who would come, would be risking their lives. It was, in that respect, no different from any other ranger mission. What
was different, however, was that the mission would not be an order. Everyone who would agree to come, would not have been able to even agree to such a dangerous mission if Arnyn hadn't brought it to the table and hadn't pushed for it. Also, there were no guarantees that this mission would produce any sort of lasting change. Even if the mission should prove successful, the results would be uncertain at best.
Uncertain at best. And casualties on their side would be inevitable. Arnyn’s fingers spasmed on one of the pieces of paper. There was simply no way that they were going to take over a pirate ship as well as sail into the port and city of Umbar - and not lose a single soul to the assault. This had been true of many missions, of course - especially before the Ring was destroyed and the War was ended. But Arnyn had never before
asked for such a mission. She had never before
suggested such a mission. She had never before
campaigned for such a mission.
This time, she
had.
"Everyone can carry their burden, however, heavy, until nightfall," the Lieutenant reminded herself with a deadpan whisper.
Dark brown eyes flicked over her own handwriting. Line after line after line. She had learned much. The routes were clear. So were the main objectives. However... there were still so many questions, not in the least about some of the people involved in all this. Theories and suspicions, yes - but not
facts.
For example. Who
was Arkadhur? Arnyn had gone over this in her mind many times. How he fit in with the Halsads was one question. A mere lackey? That just hadn't seemed right to her, not since she’d heard of the way Arkadhur had ‘told’ Keket to ‘break’ Unalmis. Who gave such a
strong suggestion, almost an order, as a
lackey, to their
boss? In a setting like Umbar, where saying the wrong thing could earn you a knife in the leg? Speaking to a vile, sadistic torturer who hated everyone? While Arkadhur very clearly did not have a death wish. The man wanted to live.
And apparently, Keket had listened. He
had broken Unalmis’ shoulder. Arnyn frowned. There was more than simply Arkadhur’s apparent familiarity with Keket that bothered her about
that particular exchange.
Break him.
Such harsh words.
The Lieutenant went over what she had gone over so many times by now. Pharak Halsad’s brother had died many years ago, in Lond Col - Unalmis had told her that. And Isys had told
him, Unalmis had said. And before Arnyn had heard this from Unalmis during Trevadir’s report, Isys had personally told her that a Salukhatar Halsad had come to Lond Col over thirty years ago - and that Salukhatar had killed Isys' father along with everyone else on his ship.
Break him.
Arnyn frowned. She could not shake the conviction that such a level of familiarity could only have been spoken to family. Either perceived family, or family by blood. But the facts were that Pharak had
three sons. Everyone seemed to agree on that. Unalmis, Trevadir, Shamara.
But Pharak had had a brother. A brother who’d died when Isys was a child. Arkadhur had seemed more or less the age as Isys. He would have already been born. He could very well be the son of this Salukhatar. That would make Arkahdur a
cousin to Keket. That would explain away the familiarity. This was what Arnyn had come to believe. The more she went over the possibility, the more she thought it
had to be true.
Break him.
Yet Arkadhur was only known, at least to Arnyn, to have been familiar in this way with
Keket.
Everyone had told her that Arkadhur was
Keket’s man.
Keket’s agent. Was it possible that the other Halsads did not even know about Arkadhur being a relative? Arnyn’s frown deepened. She had thought about this before, but had never been able to explain the
how and
why behind this part. The sigh that left her made the dryness of her throat known rather blatantly. Yet the Lieutenant did not move from her chair, nor her desk. The feeling that she was onto something, kept her glued to her seat, her eyes fixed on the many,
many notes.
‘Matsu - hates Gondorians. Barely tolerates Devedir Thormaetha.’
‘Keket - hates everyone. Loathes Abrazimir Dimaethor.’
Her right index finger tapped the desk. Keket hated everyone. Arnyn’s expression grew displeased. Not just Gondorians, but
everyone. So also Haradrese.. Umbarians… Even his own family, perhaps? She scrunched up her nose. That seemed like a stretch. But could he be enough of a selfish, vile excuse of a man to relish in hiding the knowledge about having a cousin... from his own family? It did not seem like either Trevadir, Unalmis or Shamara would put much past Keket Halsad. In addition to being sadistic and cruel, it might not be
that much of a stretch to assume he could also be selfish, petty and conniving...
Even
if the whole theory of Arkadhur being Salukhatar’s son was wrong, Arnyn’s gut was convinced that Arkadhur was a Halsad somehow. He was too wrapped up with them. He was given too many liberties. Keket gave Arkadhur the use of his ship - before Abrazimir sunk it. Keket let Arkadhur speak to him in such a way without impunity. Or, at most, a knife in the leg. But not a knife to the throat. Not time in the Chamber of Song.
Keket
must know.
Break him…
Arnyn’s eyes suddenly widened as she moved one of the papers with a strange rush. Where were the notes from Trevadir’s report? Where had she written that specific part down? Trevadir had mentioned something… She scanned the notes. Only to realize - she must have skipped over the right line. She started over. Tried to force herself to slow down. But the rushed feeling that had usurped her brain did not allow her the courtesy.
Before she found what she was looking for, she switched papers, to her notes from the meeting with Isys, Duinion and Unalmis. She had written down what she had remembered at a later date. Unalmis had been held in Pharak Halsad’s blood temple, right? Unalmis had seen, or heard, the sailors being… The Lieutenant shook her head, not wanting to conjure up that image. He had been held there, yes? It had been Pharak who had taken him. It would make sense for him to be held in the temple. And Pharak had abducted Unalmis to lure in Domanol, Unalmis' uncle… Frowning eyes returned to Trevadir’s report.
‘Pharak - gets first pick of Devedir’s captives.’
There it was.
First pick. Trevadir had said something more, though, Arnyn remembered. He had said Pharak only takes those
without damage. Without injury. Without deformity. Eyes still wide, Arnyn leaned back in her chair, her gaze on the notes. She could not tear her eyes away from the words.
Arkadhur… Arkadhur had told Keket to
Break him. So he could be sure that Pharak would not use him as an offering in the temple? Had Arkadhur and Keket figured that Pharak would decide to put Unalmis to good use in some other way, if he could not use the young man to ensnare his uncle? Unalmis had
told her Arkadhur had said something along the lines that breaking him would ‘spoil their plans’... Pharak and Naluthor’s plans? Had Unalmis’ shoulder injury...
saved him from being used as a blood sacrifice? Had Arkadhur contributed to keeping Unalmis ‘safe’... by
injuring him? Was having Keket break Unalmis’ shoulder only a precursor to taking the man’s ship and whisking Unalmis away from Umbar?
Umbarians…
If Keket was the type of man to intentionally hide a relative from his father… perhaps he would also be the kind of man to take pleasure in thwarting one of his father’s plans. Just because he thought it was fun. Perhaps Keket was the man who simply enjoyed what he saw as games? If torturing strangers could be a game to him... Playing with his own family might be, as well. Two fingers went up to push against her temple, her elbow perched on the desk.
Arkadhur could have sold the idea of breaking Unalmis to Keket as the action spoiling his father’s and Naluthor’s plans. Perhaps Keket had even thought that, once Pharak realized he had no further use of Unalmis, Pharak might hand Unalmis over to Keket. For additional… recreation. Such things were supposedly what Keket enjoyed, right?
Her thoughts were racing. As for Arkadhur… he might have known already that Unalmis had a relation to Isys. With all of his knowledge, his history in the circles of Dol Amrothian society. If Arkadhur was.. interested.. in Isys - as Arnyn suspected - then perhaps he might have wanted to play his part in making sure Unalmis did not end up on the blood temple’s altar. He had played along with the lady knight several times in the past years, had he not?
It would not be strange to believe that, once it became clear he would not be able to garner goodwill with the Lady Arzubel by saving any of her sailors, his making sure that Unalmis did not suffer a torturous end on the temple’s altar was his only remaining option at the time to try and convince Isys - and possibly others, such as Abrazimir - that his heart wasn’t all black.
Arkadhur seemed to want to find some balance between Keket and key people in Gondor. Isys and Abrazimir were both Swan Knights. Good people to have in your corner. Although that idea didn’t coincide with Keket’s desire to extract whatever vengeance he thought he needed on Abrazimir.
What game was Arkadhur playing? With Isys? With Abrazimir? With all of them?
Her eyes opened again to stare at the ceiling. Had Salukhatar been the older or the younger brother? Was Arkadhur paving his own way? Trying to make sure that, if Gondor managed to get a foothold in Umbar during his lifetime, he would be the best candidate among the lot of the Halsads to take leadership over their position of power…
Or... or even
and... perhaps Arkadhur was torn between the life he knew and the chance at an entirely different life. Perhaps... just perhaps... Arkadhur's goals and ideas were simply mercurial. Perhaps sometimes people like Isys tempted him with a life that seemed better. And perhaps, for a time, he believed he could lead such a life. Turn things around. Before being confronted with something from his past that dragged him right back - to his old life. Wouldn't that be just the thing, in this world that was so much more broken than it should be? Arnyn let her head fall back, closing her eyes.
Am I in way over my head, here?
