"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-Pharazôn and sank all our fair land beneath the waves."
"It was not Sauron that destroyed Númenor," snapped Malithôr. "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!"
Malithôr'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."
Malithôr 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-dûr 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 Dúnedain.
"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 Malithôr.
"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 Malithôr.
"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 Malithôr.
"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 Dúnadan. He was but thirty, born long after fair Númenor 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 Dúnedain kings. Many of them had been powerful local warlords when Isildur and Anárion'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 Dúnedain 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 began to speak in the tongue of Gondor and there was estrangement between the generations.
Ohtar always felt it his part to speak for the Uialedain. He thought of himself not as an advocate, but as a translator.
"The Uialedain lords," he said when he felt the time was ripe, "have learned by hard lessons that loyalties may change. They lack your long sight, Sire. Romach is frightened. Perhaps he values his honor less than his skin."
"You think him merely craven? I fear he may be falling under the shadow of Sauron."
"It is possible," Ohtar shrugged. "But if you will pardon me, Sire, it seems to me that he is between a hammer and an anvil. Herumor openly threatens him and holds up the rape of Lefnui as a dreadful example."
Isildur growled. "A fair city destroyed, hundreds of innocents slain; all for no more than a demonstration that they are capable of it. Would that I faced that arrogant 'ambassador' in battle. I'd separate that grinning head from his body. Sauron would have to speak through another mouth."
"Still," said Ohtar, "if Romach rode with us, Erech could face a like attack. He would have to leave a strong force behind."
"We do not ask him to leave Erech undefended. But the Eredrim are numerous. He could yet muster a considerable army and fulfill the oath."
"Perhaps he only speaks the truth. Perhaps he truly cannot make the decision alone."
"I do not believe that, do you?"
"No. I deem that if he wished he could speak for the Eredrim without contradiction. But he thinks either decision is dangerous and he doesn't want to be the one to cast the die. I think he was stalling for time because he knew Malithôr was coming and he wanted to know the views of Umbar."