Part 24

Legolas inspected the equipment laid out on Master Eldacar’s bunk. “I had no idea that you had already built it, sir.”

“Oh, yes. And, fortunately, it was stowed in the privy, so it was not jettisoned with the rest.”

“Have you ever used it?”

“No,” said Master Eldacar, without hesitation, “but I have no doubt that it will work.”

Legolas considered Eldacar’s suggestion—that, using the water-suit, provided it worked, Eowyn and the others would be able to reach the bank without touching the poisonous waters—but he knew that the marshes concealed other dangers, and against those the suit offered no protection...

“I will use it,” he said decisively. “I will carry a rope to the bank, and pull the ship aground. Then we will all wait here, on board The Shieldmaiden, until help arrives.”

...

The water-suit was made from a soft, supple leather.

Legolas slipped his hands into the sewn-in gauntlets, and waited whilst Master Eldacar gathered up the wide shoulders and tied off the drawstring. Then he picked up the skull-like helmet, with its breathing tube and its cork float, and headed for the cabin door.

...

Eowyn and Arador were busy erecting some sort of framework on the poop deck but, when she saw Legolas, Eowyn stumbled down the steps, and lumbered to his side. “Lassui, what are you doing?”

He explained his plan.

She leaned in as close as her veiled hat would allow, and said, in a strange loud-whisper, “Is it safe, my love?”

“Of course, melmenya,” he lied.

To his relief, she smiled. “Well, be careful Lassui,” she said. “When you get back, we will have an insect-proof tent for you to rest in.” But, despite her smiles, she followed him to the gunwale, and fussed over the fastenings of his water-suit, and the little frown of concern that she tried to hide from him tugged at the elf’s heart.

…

Master Eldacar lowered the helmet over Legolas’ head, and laced it in place.

The elf clamped the end of the breathing tube between his teeth, and took a few experimental lungsful of air. He sighed—breathing was not, of course, going to be anywhere near as easy as the scholar had claimed.

But he must keep calm.

He gave Eowyn a final smile through the helmet’s glass visor, then climbed over the ship’s side, and slowly descended the rope ladder.

...

The water was cold and murky and, though the leather suit hardly affected his movements, the glass visor of the helmet soon clouded over, making it hard for him to see. But, once he had accepted that he must rely upon his other senses, he began to make good progress, swimming just below the surface, dragging the cork float behind him.

He was more than half way to the bank when he felt something grasp his arm and, assuming that it was an eel or, perhaps, a water snake, he shook it off, and continued swimming.

Moments later, he felt it again, and now its grip was firm—five cold, steely fingers, biting into the flesh of his arm through the leather sleeve.

He turned his head, and could see nothing; he kept swimming.

But the hand was still there, and now it had weight and strength behind it and, at each stroke, it pulled at him, dragging him lower in the water.

Suddenly, a rasping voice formed words inside his head: Why do you disturb our graves?

The elf trembled, with fear for Eowyn, and with shame for himself. But he had no intention of abandoning his task and, forcing himself back to the surface, he tore away the lacings that held his helmet in place, and pulled it off.

Cries of surprise echoed dimly across the water, but an invisible mist seem to envelop him, and he could neither hear Eowyn’s words clearly, nor reply to them. “Show yourself to me,” he said to the spirit.

Slowly, its pale, sad face emerged from the water. Why do you disturb our graves?

The elf placed a hand upon his heart and bowed his head in respect. “To save my wife,” he answered, simply.

He felt the spirit’s gaze shift, across the water, to the deck of The Shieldmaiden and, for a brief and terrible moment, he shared the wraith’s unbearable loneliness.

Do you love her?

“With all my heart.”

The spirit reached out, and its pale hand seemed to pierce the elf’s flesh, and curl about his heart, weighing its worth.

Legolas cried out.

Do whatever you must to save her, it sighed, at last. But do not disturb these waters again.

And then it was gone.

...

When Faramir arrived, two days later, The Shieldmaiden was still afloat, tethered to the bank by the rope that Legolas had carried across the water. Haldir lowered the gang plank that he and Arador had built, and the five adventurers disembarked. Within half an hour they were riding across the marshland, following the local farmer whom Faramir had hired to guide them through the dangerous terrain.

As they reached higher ground, they paused, and turned to bid a final farewell to the ship that had been their refuge. The Shieldmaiden accepted their thanks graciously.

Then, as they watched, she slowly keeled over, and slid beneath the water.

When the travellers left the Dead Marshes, it was as though they had never been there.

...

Epilogue