”Si’nol! Si’nol!”
Si’nol opened his eyes. The Guardsman put a finger to his lips.
”Get up and get dressed!”
He sat up obediently and put his feet on the cold floor. Si’nol was nine years old and lived in the Citadel of Winds of Umbar Baharbêl, in a small chamber with a barred window overlooking the harbor. There was a solid wooden door with guards posted on the other side at all hours. He had a bed with clean linens, a wash basin, a chest and some carved wooden toys to play with.
Si’nol rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He looked at the Guardsman, who was waiting. He took off his sleeping-robe and put it under his pillow. He pulled on his breeches and sleeveless tunic.
”Take your vest too!” the Guardsman said. ”Hurry up! And your cloak!”
”Where are we going?”
”Put your clothes in the satchel! All of them!”
”Has my mother come? Is she here?”
”Shut up! Don’t talk such foolishness! Move yourself or you will not get breakfast!”
He opened his chest and put the small woven charm his mother had made for him in the bottom of the satchel, wrapping it in his sleeping-robe.
”You won’t be needing your toys!”
”It’s not a toy. My mother made it for me.”
”Take it then!”
The kitchens were in the ground level. The food was prepared in large pots. There was rarely any meat but it was not because they wanted to deprive him of meat; he ate the same food as the guards and the servants of the Citadel, and meat was rarely served. Nobody in this place was particularly cruel or unkind to him, and there were some who were downright gentle.
Si’nol was tall for his age. He resembled his father at his age without knowing it. His father was dead. He remembered, as if from a distant dream, his father bending over his sleeping mat and kissing him on the forehead. It had happened a long time ago, before the Corsairs came to the village. The Corsairs had killed his father, taken his mother away from him and kept him imprisoned here for two years. Si’nol did not know why.
He followed the Guardsman who carried his satchel down the spiral staircase to the kitchens. Si’nol pulled out a bench and sat down in front of a flat wooden plate loaded with flatbread, dates and a cup of goat’s milk. While he was eating his breakfast, a man wearing a short, dark cloak, a curved short-sword and a black head-scarf entered the kitchen. He sat down on the bench opposite of Si’nol. The Guardsman left.
Si’nol kept eating his flatbread. He did not look up at the man.
”Are you shy, Si’nol?”
What a dumb question, Si’nol thought.
”Are you shy?”
”No.”
”How are you feeling?”
”Good.”
The man did not remove his head-scarf. He smiled at Si’nol.
”Si’nol, have you ever been to a ship before?”
”Yes”, he said, popping a date into his mouth. ”I was brought here on a ship. Two years ago.”
”Oh well. What a lucky boy you are to have sailed on a proper Corsair ship! And now you are even more lucky.” He smiled again. ”You get to sail on another ship soon, like a proper Corsair! What do you say to that?”
Si’nol said nothing at first.
”My mother”, he said after a long pause.
The smile froze. ”What about her?”
”Are you going to take me to her?”
”Who knows!” The man patted his hand clumsily. ”Would you like that?”
Si’nol did not smile. The man talked to him like he was a baby.
”Maybe the ship will go to Gondor. Would you like that?”
”Gondor?”
”That’s where your mother is. In Gondor.”
”When will I leave?”
”Today. A journey awaits us, you and me!”
Si’nol pushed the plate aside.
”Are you ready?”
Si’nol stood up. ”Yes.” He picked up his satchel. ”Now I can go”, he said.
