Chapter 3
The morning dawned early, the sun breaking sluggishly through the thick mist that rose from the Anduin as the chill of the night air gave way to warmer temperatures.
Aragorn and his men had broken their fast early and made their way to the harbor. Eight sleek ships awaited them. Caravels, lanteen-rigged and fast, their sails were still stowed, but the masts reached high towards the heavens, cutting through the wasps of fog. They were not large ships, by the craft and reckoning of men, but they were bigger than most of the elven vessels in Mithlond and despite himself, Elladan was impressed.
Men were still busy on the quays, hurrying to and fro to load barrels and cloth – probably the dark sails Aragorn had requested the evening before. The soldiers started to move. It was clear that Aragorn had instructed them well, for there was little hesitation and all quickly found their assigned boats and made ready for the journey.
With Elrohir at his side, Elladan set out for the boat in front, the only of the ships to sport three masts it was easily the largest and would be Aragorn's flag ship. It would also be their home for the next week. At least that was what Callon had estimated the trip to Umbar would take, six hundred miles along the Anduin river and across the Great Sea following the South Gondorian and Haradrim coast.
Elladan had been to the Grey Havens and had sailed the High Seas in a memorable misadventure with his twin once before, but that was well over a thousand years ago. The more recent outings with his grandmother's swan ships on the upper Anduin hardly compared to what they were about to embark on now.
The large wooden ship was solid under his feet as he reached the main deck, smooth planks interlocking, teeming with busy sailors that moved back and forth in between and around the six large ballistae that studded the deck - the mightiest and fearsome weapon that the Gondorian navy had to offer. Their massive bow string would be pulled back by winches, locked and loaded with heavy stones that, released at immeasurable speed, would crack the hull of other ships like eggs. The ballistae were securely studded to the deck, two neat rows of massive contraptions of raw destructive force.
And yet, while he knew that the ship was secure, and while it certainly seemed much sturdier under his feet than a smaller row boat, it moved with a peculiar kind of tremor. A continuous rolling motion lent just an edge of uncertainty to every step, while the deck of the ship was vast enough that all reference points were treacherous, moving with the same neverending motion. Elladan swallowed. This would take some getting used to.
He looked up briefly to look for Elrohir but his twin was no longer at his side. Instead, he stood at the bow, looking out over the waters and into the thick fog, his long hair draped over his shoulders, unmoving in the still air. He seemed entirely unaffected and Elladan suppressed a glimmer of frustration.
He carefully made his way over the deck to his brother's side. Behind them sounds of sailors passing orders from one to the other rose and his sharp hearing picked up similar commands on the other vessels. They were setting sail. Their journey to Umbar was about to begin. For better or worse, their fortune now lay in the hands of Ulmo until he delivered them to the Bay of Umbar and the battle that awaited them. A horn was blown in the harbour as the landing bridges were removed.
The ship gave a sudden jerk, his stomach gave an echoing jolt but then they were off. In the thick mists the quays slowly passed them by, staying behind as Aragorn's ships sailed towards Umbar, towards retribution and war.
"Elladan!" Elrohir tensed suddenly and pointed ahead at the thick fog. "Do you see that?"
Elladan followed his twin's gaze and cursed. There, not a league in front of them was a corsair ship, much smaller than theirs but doubtlessly faster. A scout vessel, most likely, and probably sent or left behind to gather intel on Gondor's response to the corsairs' attack. It must have strayed close to Pelargir under the cover of night, trusting in the thick fog to keep it hidden from mortal eyes.
It would spell disaster for Aragorn's entire mission should it escape.
"Elladan?!"
His twin's voice followed after him as he turned and ran across the deck, its uncomfortable bucking now forgotten. He could not hesitate, what was more, he could not give Elrohir the opportunity to join him. His twin was still healing after all.
"Elladan!", Elrohir called again, desperate, acusing, but he paid his brother no heed as he quickened his pace.
Days of forced inactivity, of feeling like he could not control his own actions, could not mend his brother's failing spirit, finally found a release as he bounded up the ship's gunwale and jumped in one graceful leap to the receding pier. He ran along the sturdy wooden gangway and commandeered the first horse he found, never hesitating.
He had a ship to catch.
-o0o-
"Elladan?!"
His brother's voice made Aragorn look up, just in time to see Elladan cross the main deck, vault the gunwale and disappear. He stared after his brother.
"Elladan!" Elrohir's second shout brought him back to the present, and his hand shot out to grasp Elrohir's arm as the second of the twins was about to rush past him.
"Elrohir," Aragorn demanded, unflinching when his brother's angry gaze met his own. Elrohir was not pleased with being held back. "What is the meaning of this?" Aragorn demanded.
Elrohir threw another glance towards the harbor, but the ship had moved on and he would not now be following Elladan this way. His shoulders sagged as he came to the realization, his anger melting away as swiftly as it had come, to be replaced once again with a lingering sense of failure.
He turned to Aragorn. "A corsair ship," he explained, indicating for Aragorn to follow him to the bow. "I fear our foolhardy brother is trying to intercept it by land – and by himself."
"What?!"
Aragorn ran to the bow railing, peering ahead into the thick fog that still rested over the river, willing his human eyes to pierce the veil and let him see what was happening. "Are you sure?" he asked, though he did not doubt his brother's words.
"Yes."
Aragorn sighed. "That is ill news indeed. What of Elladan? Can you see him?"
Elrohir shook his head, frustration marring his fair features. "No, but he will make for that ship. Can we intercept them?"
"Intercept who? What ship?" Captain Callon had come up to join them at the bow, his brows drawn together into a deep frown. His own eyes roamed the fog ahead of them but Aragorn knew he would have as little success in spotting what his elven brothers had seen as he himself.
"Lord Elrohir has spotted a corsair ship downriver." Aragorn explained.
"Small, maybe eight rangar in length, with black sails and less than half a league ahead of us." Elrohir supplied.
Callon's eyebrows rose, but before he could voice his doubts, Aragorn intervened.
"Keen are the eyes of the elves, Captain Callon. We should trust their warnings."
Callon turned to him, hesitating only briefly before acquiescing. "If they have taken up full speed it will be hard to catch them on the river, and once they reach the Mouths…." He left the sentence unfinished, but Aragorn knew what he did not say. The Mouths of Anduin were the many arms of the river that formed its massive delta. If the corsair ship reached the parting of the river, it could disappear into any of them - and only luck would help them find it again.
"We have to try."
Callon nodded and hurried back to the quarterdeck, quickly and efficiently giving the orders to set full sail and to blow a warning for the smaller vessels in Pelargir's harbor.
Aragorn's thoughts were racing much the same way as the sailors that crossed the main deck in response to their captain's orders, jumping into the rigging and scaling the masts to unfurl their vessel's large triangular sails. He had to trust that they would be fast enough, trust that their ship could take up speed in time to pursue the smaller corsair vessel.
"There!" Elrohir exclaimed behind him, "I can see Elladan!"
Aragorn hurried over and strained his eyes against the limited visibility but still he could see nothing. Giving up he turned to Elrohir, whose attention was entirely on his twin and Elladan's reckless crusade somewhere ahead of them along the banks of the veiled river. The younger twin's grip on the bow rail was so tight his knuckles stood out white against his skin. Aragorn knew how he hated to be forced to watch as his brother threw himself into danger.
Gently placing a hand on Elrohir's shoulder, he asked "What do you see?"
-o0o-
A/N: And we're off! Our heroes sail towards adventure, Umbar and possible disaster. And they are off to an exciting start. This also marks the beginning of my forthcoming many complaints about seafaring, boating terms and the choice of writing a story that contained these elements (much drama, such sigh) - suffice it to say that I have learned much more about medieval and ancient greek ships than I ever expected. I now perfectly understand why sailors supposedly swear so much - so did I when doing research about all of this :D
I hope you enjoy the new (short, sorry) chapter and that all my efforts were worthwhile.