Part 22

Eowyn was not frightened.

The world was rushing madly past her but she was floating, gazing serenely at the beautiful air-ship above her, and at Legolas, hanging gracefully from its rigging...

Then her fall came to an abrubt stop, broken by her safety harness, and the sudden jolt almost snapped her spine. She heard Legolas’ anguished cry, and remembered his warning—Do not rely on it, melmenya—and, at that instant, she shot out her hand and seized the ship’s planking, and the entire weight of her body hung from the fingers of her sword hand.

That was when the fear came, stabbing her through the heart and spurring her to more-than-human effort. She lunged upwards, kicking her legs, and just missed catching hold of the hull with her free hand.

“MELMENYA!”

Oh, Lassui! Lassui!

…

Nothing else mattered now—Legolas drew his white knife, slashed through the rigging, and sailed down upon the falling rope.

…

Eowyn missed again.

But, this time, a strong hand had grabbed her wrist, and she felt herself being pulled upwards, her breasts and belly scraping painfully on the ship’s side.

…

Legolas thrust his feet forward and, shifting his weight, swung under the silk, dropped, and landed on the deck beside Haldir.

Together, the elves dragged Eowyn back on board.

“Sometimes, melmenya,” said Legolas, crushing her to his chest and burying his face in her hair, “you are so foolish…”

…

“She is lifting!” shouted Master Eldacar.

Legolas raised his head and his eyes met Haldir’s; the elves turned towards the scholar.

“I do not think it is sufficient to take us far,” Eldacar admitted. “There must be another leak—”

“Where the arrow came out,” said Legolas.

“—but if we continue to lighten her, we may gain ourselves sufficient time to choose a more suitable place to land...”

Legolas deposited Eowyn beside the anchor housing. “Stay there, melmenya.”

“I can help.”

The deck was already clear. Haldir disappeared below.

“No,” said Legolas, harshly. “Stay there.”

He stepped aside to allow the other elf to pass (carrying a large barrel), then plunged below decks himself.

“At least,” Arador shouted, to the world in general, “we will be leaving a trail for Prince Faramir to follow!”

…

“Master Eldacar,” said Eowyn, “is that water?” Staying back from the gunwales—and well out of Legolas’ way—she was keeping a lookout. “Over there.” She pointed to starboard.

“My Lord,” shouted the scholar, “might I trouble you to take a look?”

Patting Eowyn’s shoulder as he passed, Legolas jumped up onto the bowsprit and stared into the distance. “Yes! Yes, sir, it is!”

“Very good!” The scholar’s voice was once more filled with child-like excitement. “Lord Legolas, Lady Eowyn, Master Haldir, please take your places beside the anchors—though I do not believe that we will need them for this landing. Arador, I trust you will follow my instructions to the letter...”

...

The Shieldmaiden’s keel was barely clearing the heather, but the ship flew on, as though drawn to the wide expanse of dark, shimmering water, her natural element, only a few hundred yards ahead.

“Arador, keep those flames steady!” shouted Eldacar.

“If it is not deep enough,” murmured Eowyn, “we will be smashed to pieces—”

“It is deep enough, melmenya,” said Legolas, firmly. “You can tell that by its colour.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and they crouched down beside the anchor housing. Haldir was already in position at the other side.

“This must be the strongest part of the hull,” said Eowyn.

“Yes...”

“Arador, open the flaps and vent the bladder!” shouted Eldacar.

“I am so sorry,” said Eowyn, “for what happened before.”

Legolas kissed her forehead.

“Arador, snuff out the flames!”

Eowyn closed her eyes, and waited for the impact.