Part 5

“She flies!”

Eowyn stared at Master Eldacar, momentarily speechless.

Then, grasping him roughly by the arm, and pulling him towards the horses, she bombarded him with questions. “Can Arador control her? How much fuel do they have? What happens if the silk tears? Or catches light? Or—or—can you ride?”

“Yes, my Lady. But not well.”

Eowyn mounted Brightstar. “Get up behind me.”

It took him several attempts, for Eowyn—looking upwards in the hope of seeing the flying ship—was too impatient to hold the horse still. “Put your arms around my waist,” she said, when at last he was seated, “and hold tight.” She dug her heels into Brightstar’s sides, and they left the clearing at a gallop, following the narrow track that joined the main road back to the city.

“My Lady,” gasped Eldacar, breathlessly, “you are going in entirely the wrong direction. The wind is westerly. The ship will be sailing east...”

...

She left Brightstar with one of the grooms, and dragged the scholar, protesting gently, up the spiralling staircase.

Half way to the top, she lost patience. “I will go ahead,” she said. “Wait for me on the walkway.” But after a few steps, she stopped, and turned. “How many men would you need to fly that thing? Properly?”

“Well...”

“Do not stop climbing!”

“Five,” said Master Eldacar, desperately. “Yes, at least five. Arador is skilled with the burner; I have some understanding of the rudder; we need two more to throw out the anchors, and a lookout at the front.”

“Then we need another body,” said Eowyn. “I will send for Haldir.”