'Do not be fooled by his lies, Romach. Do you fancy that you can ingratiate yourselves with such as Sauron? He does not make allies, he makes slaves. This Malithor may deny it, but I tell you the Umbardrim are the agents of Sauron — if not actually in his service, they are at best working his will for their own ends. Listen not to this tool of the Enemy. He says he is the ambassador of Umbar, but I say he is naught but the mouth of Sauron.'
Malithor actually hissed. 'And you, Isildur, are the pawn of the Elves. Do you think they truly love Men? Gil- galad is using you as a minor distraction against Sauron, as a fallen warrior might throw dust into his enemy's eyes in the faint hope that his death stroke will go astray.'
'The Elves have ever been our friends and our allies,' retorted Isildur. 'They fought beside us against Morgoth in the Elder Days, and they fight with us today against Sauron.'
Malithor shook his head resignedly, as at a foolish and stubborn child. 'They are using you, Isildur. You spill the noble blood of Numenor for them, but the Elves are a fading race. They are no longer concerned with the affairs of Middle-earth. Always they are sailing away, never to return. Hardly a month goes by that a ship does not sail from the Grey Havens, bound back to their home in the west. Your Elvish allies will tire of the war and dwindle away. Soon all will be gone, and you will be facing Sauron alone. Would you still stand against him then?'
'Gil-galad and the Elves of Lindon will not abandon us while this war persists. And were there no Elves to aid us, still would we fight Sauron. Even if all hope of victory were gone, better to die his foes than to live his slaves.'
Malithor gave a mirthless laugh. 'Bah. Your line has always been dreamers.'
'And you Black Numenoreans have ever been the tools of evil,' snapped Isildur. 'Long have you harassed the people of these coasts, and many of them even now sit chained to the oars in your ships. You are nothing but common pirates.'
'Pirates?' cried the ambassador. 'We are the descendants of the kings of Numenor. Are their deeds as naught to you? You are Numenorean yourself. Have you forgotten the glory and might of Ar-Pharazon the Golden? He that landed at Umbar with a thousand ships, each with a thousand warriors? Even the mighty Sauron came then to his summons, and bent his knee before him and pledged fealty to him and gave himself up as hostage.'
'Yes, and lied and deceived and whispered until he rose from the king's prisoner to his chief councillor. And by his craft and urging he brought down all the might of Ar-Pharazon and sank all our fair land beneath the waves.'
'It was not Sauron that destroyed Numenor,' snapped Malithor. 'It was your friends, the ever-protecting blessed Valar.'
'Do not speak ill of the Valar, Mouth of Sauron,' roared Isildur, 'lest I forget your claim of emissary and have you hanged as a pirate!'
Malithor's guards stepped forward. He started back, but he quickly regained his composure. He grinned insolently.
'But you wouldn't do that, Isildur. I am an emissary of my Emperor and I bear a flag of truce. You believe in diplomatic protection, surely.'
'I believe in honor, yes. I believe that the conventions of war must be observed, even to such as you.'
'And yet you know that we would feel no compunction in a similar situation.' He nearly leered. 'Maddening, isn't it?'
'Civilized peoples must behave in a civilized manner. Your people were civilized once and did great works, but you destroyed it all and now merely prey on the shipping of your neighbors.'
'Their ships cross our territorial water carrying rich goods. If they will not pay our duties, we seize them. We are within our rights.'
'Your territorial waters? You raid all the way from Minhiriath to Harad. Both are a long sail from Umbar.'
'Such is our territory by ancient right. We have always been the masters of these seas. We provide for the safety of shipping. All seamen know no pirates prowl the sea lanes where Umbar rules. It is our custom to ask those who use our waters to make payment for our protection.'
'In exchange for it you mean. Your duties are nothing more than a ransom for the freedom of the captains and crews.'
'If they cannot pay our duty they must work it off in labor. It is a long-standing practice. Call it what you will.'
'I call it piracy,' said Isildur. 'Know you that I will not rest until you have ceased your raiding and returned our people to us.'
Malithor snorted. 'Then you shall go without your rest for a long time, Isildur Elendilson. Your threats are idle. You have neither the ships nor the time to contest the seas with us. Gondor has all it can do to try to contain Sauron. Do you think for a moment that he could not leave the Barad-dur any time he wishes? He has no need to fight you. His reach and his sight ever lengthen, and his power grows even as you camp on his doorstep.'
Isildur seethed with rage, and only with difficulty did he contain his voice. He wheeled upon Romach, cowering back at the wrath of the two mighty Dunedain.
'And what of you, Romach? You have heard the threats of the Mouth of Sauron. You are sworn allies of Gondor. You owe these Umbardrim nothing save the toe of your boot. Remember the Oath of Karmach.'
'Remember also Ethir Lefnui,' whispered Malithor.
'Yes, remember the people of Lefnui,' said Isildur. 'They were your neighbors and trading partners, their race akin to yours. If they died as a lesson to you, let that lesson be that you cannot trust the Corsairs of Umbar. Send these pirates packing and join us against our foes.'
They both stared expectantly at Romach. Romach looked uneasily between their faces.
'It is a matter for the Elders to decide, my lords.' he said. 'I cannot speak for the Eredrim.'
'The time to decide is now, Romach,' said Malithor.
'All the Elders will be here tonight, or in the morning at the latest. Tomorrow we will hold council together.'
'Let us hope they remember their friends of old,' said Malithor.
'Let us hope they remember their oath,' growled Isildur, and he turned and stalked from the hall. The crowd of men near the door parted to let him pass, for none could withstand his glare.
Back in the camp, Isildur fumed up and down before his tent. None came near him, save Ohtar sitting on some packs nearby. Ohtar remained silent until he judged that Isildur's rage had cooled sufficiently to speak. 'Do you think he will keep their oath?' he asked.
Isildur clenched his fists. 'He had better! I can not abide oathbreakers! Has the spirit of their race sunk so low that they will break their troth? Is honor and fealty as nothing to them?' He stalked away, spun on his heel, stalked back, while Ohtar watched in sympathy and also some foreboding.
Ohtar well knew the depth of the sense of honor and virtue in Isildur. It was a large part of the reason he loved him, and it was the source of Ohtar's own unswerving loyalty to Isildur as his king and his friend. But he also knew that intensity of feeling created a blind spot in the king. It was inconceivable to Isildur why a man would break his bond. Isildur's confidence, his bone-felt certainty of what is right in every situation made him truly incapable of understanding the motives of lesser men.
Ohtar, however, was not a Dunadan. He was but thirty, born long after fair Numenor sank beneath the waves. He had been a hunter in the forests of the Emyn Arnen, the hill country in southern Ithilien. He knew and understood the mixed feelings of many of the Uialedain lords to the Dunedain kings. Many of them had been powerful local warlords when Isildur and Anarion's ships were driven upon this coast near their old trading station of Pelargir.
The Uialedain at first fled at their approach. The newcomers were numerous and well-armed, and looked like the feared Corsairs that the coastal dwellers knew all too well. But these new Dunedain proved to be peaceable and generous, offering their help freely. Their healers cured the sick, their kings wielded powers that seemed as magic. None of the small states and tribes in the region dared stand against them. They were given land along the Great River and they built their cities of stone. Intervening in local conflicts and rivalries, they soon brought peace to a region that had never known it. The common people loved and feared them, but some of the lords yet longed for the days when people trembled at their names. And many liked it less when their children
