Part 18

“Can she move any faster?”

Master Eldacar, at the helm, shook his head. “I do not know of any way, my Lord…”

“Well, do your best, sir.”

...

Legolas joined Eowyn and Haldir in the bows. “Any sign of the Orcs?”

“There is movement, over there,” said the elf, “but I cannot be sure it is Orcs.”

Legolas turned to Eowyn. She had armed herself with a bow from the ship’s weapons chest, and was waiting, shoulders tense, for the fight to start. “Remember our lessons, melmenya,” he said, rubbing her back. “Keep your muscles relaxed until you are ready to draw.”

She gave him an anxious smile.

...

It began with a piercing scream—the travellers had seen the Orcs.

The brutes were streaming from the Forest, charging across the rough terrain, splashing through the ribbons of water, closing in on their prey. Legolas counted eighteen in all, led by a hulking Uruk Hai—a huge, merciless monster.

The Shieldmaiden was still a long way away.

The men had set the horse free, and were turning the cart over. Pots and pans and bits of clothing spilled out, and lay strewn across the ground.

That is good, thought Legolas. That will distract them.

He saw the woman and her children crawl into their makeshift refuge, and could imagine the young ones trembling with fear. One of the men had brought out a stubby bow, and the other—an elderly fellow—was brandishing a heavy staff.

They did not stand a chance.

Legolas fitted an arrow to his bow. “Melmenya,” he said, calmly, “find something you can make a lot of noise with, and use it. Haldir, aim for the stragglers. We need to turn them around, and bring them back this way.”

...

By the time The Shieldmaiden had drawn within range, the archer on the ground had already loosed two arrows—and missed with both.

Haldir leaped up onto the gunwale and shot. His arrow hit home, and the stricken Orc fell to its knees, wailing, but its companions scarcely noticed.

The elf shot another creature, and then a third.

“They are too stupid to understand what is happening,” said Legolas, drawing and taking aim. The distance was shrinking rapidly. He loosed, and dropped the big Uruk Hai, and—this time—some of the other Orcs noticed, and stopped running, staring at their fallen leader.

One of them scratched its head—Legolas shot it between the eyes.

Eowyn, meanwhile, had brought out two saucepans and was banging them together and shouting, “Hey! Hey! Over here! Over here! ”

The pack fell apart in confusion—some were still running towards the family, but less purposefully now; some (as Legolas had predicted) had lost interest in fighting, and were sorting through the bits and pieces on the ground; one, nursing a wounded leg, was trying to see where the noise was coming from... It spotted The Shieldmaiden, and—face distorted with fear—pointed skywards, gibbering madly.

“This is it,” said Legolas, pulling another arrow from his quiver. “Get ready—we will have one chance from here, and another from the stern, and we must leave none alive, for we cannot protect the family once we have passed over them.”

Haldir nodded grimly.

Eowyn put down her saucepans, and took up her bow.