Chapter 15

Ships were burning.

Blazing heat made the air over the water shimmer, as sails and masts and entire ships sat like burning furnaces upon the waters of the Bay of Umbar. Water and fire, more closely intertwined than he had ever seen before, both fighting for dominion, for control over the small wooden contraptions that the men of Umbar and Gondor dared to command in the clashing of these elements.

How any of them could ever hope to escape this maelstrom was beyond him. Ballistas sang as the Gondorian flagship unleashed another volley, tearing one of the corsair ships open from keel to stern, puncturing the hull just over the waterline where greedy waves already lapped at the sinking ship. Considering the odds they faced, the Gondorian fleet had done surprisingly well, at range they outclassed the Umbarian warships, their ballistas much better equipped to deal destruction, their range larger than that of the seafire weapons of their enemy. Time and again their huge stone shots punctured the sensitive sides of attacking vessels, tore timber and nails apart. The day was approaching its end but the ballistas and their crew were tireless.

But the seafire weapons of the Umbarian ships remained a terrible danger and the Zigzaril had already paid the price for straying too close to them. The corsairs wielded the arching flame with terrible precision, dealing wanton destruction. Thick smoke was still curling to the heavens from the mast and deck of the Zigzaril and she listed heavily to the side, her burning planks and sails refusing all attempts of the sailors to smother the flames. She hung back, guarded by another of their ships, but even out of range of new attacks, her fate might already be sealed. Elladan could see her sitting lower in the water than just moments before, her hold must be nearly filled.

Overall, however, Elladan spared the other ships of their fleet little heed as he scanned the dark smoke and drifting vessels surrounding them once more, searching for his brothers. They had been easy to spot at the beginning, the signs and consequences of their handiwork enough to cause a cheer among the men of the Shakalzagar, as the Umbarian assault front fell into disarray in moments. Every new capsized ship had earned a fresh shout of joy, but Elladan had been able to see what the human sailors could not: He had seen the rain of retaliatory fire that had struck his brothers' ship, had seen the small, black-sailed vessels launched to intercept them, and his hands were tight around the railing in front of him now as he desperately searched for a glimpse of them. Somewhere behind the large warships of Umbar, his brothers were facing a sea battle all of their own, against even more dreadful odds than those of the Gondorian fleet.

His attention wavered when he heard sudden shouts of dismay from the sailors of the Shakalzagar, hastily called warnings and the first ringing of steel on steel.

They had been boarded.

Dragging his eyes away from his search on the waters he saw corsairs climbing over the gunwale, and spilling onto the poop deck. Hooked ropes clung to the wooden railing like a macabre decoration.

Elladan drew his sword. Finding his brothers would have to wait. With a sharp cry, he flung himself down onto the lower deck and made for the first group of invading corsairs. The steel of their scimitars reflected the dark smoke that rolled over the bay, swallowing the light of Anar. He ducked through a billow of smoke and emerged like a wraith from the dark, a vengeful spirit unleashed. He raised his mithril blade to parry a feeble blow by one of the corsairs, his return shove enough to send the man stumbling and sprawling to the deck. The next attacker hesitated, but Elladan gave him no time to retreat as he felled him where he stood. Others rushed at him while more turned in sudden horror to make their way back over the deck towards the still attached hooks of their boarding ropes. But turning their back on the Gondorian sailors and soldiers was a mistake they paid for dearly. Rallying to his side, the Gondorians were fast to respond, to dispatch the corsairs that were still spilling onto the deck, cutting ropes where they could to prevent more from coming. Elladan himself blocked another thrust of a curved blade and retaliated in kind, his own sword finding flesh and biting deep.

Just like at the inlet Elladan found the corsairs offered him little challenge, little excuse to work off the irritation he felt at being left behind by his brothers. Despite their larger numbers, they were untrained in open combat and quick to break before a determined attack. The corsairs' strength, Elladan began to understand, lay in ranged attacks - in reigning fire on cities and villages, and crossbow bolts on smaller ships and sailors, all from the safety of their own ships. Their scimitars were accustomed to frightening and attacking unresisting villagers, to aid in their prime objective - sowing terror and fear. Death would come by ranged attacks much more efficiently than by these darkened blades.

The image of the corsairs' crossbows brought his thoughts reeling back to his brothers, to the volley of small lethal projectiles he had seen flying at their stolen ship. And as his assailant fell, and Elladan found himself beside the gunwale, he looked at the sole rope hanging limply from a deeply embedded hook beside him - a new idea forming.

Beneath the end of the rope, abandoned on the water, was the small attack boat that the corsairs had steered to the Shakalzagar's side. The idea took shape. He allowed himself a grim smile. Elrohir would chastise him for his recklessness - but Elrohir was not here. With a last look at the deck, ascertaining himself that the men of Gondor had regained control of their ship, Elladan grabbed the rope and jumped.

He grit his teeth against the pain that erupted in his side and chest as the rope tugged at his arm and his feet hit the outer side of the Shakalzagar. But the pain was bearable, the stitches held and the solid wood was safe enough footing. With the rope twisted around his right arm Elladan descended quickly. Despite the rocking of the water, this was not too different from climbing from a guard post amongst the trees back home. He reached the small cutter in moments.

The boat bobbed slightly as his weight settled into it. It was small and abandoned, with its sail folded and bound to its mast. In seconds, he tore the bolts that secured the vessel to the side of the Shakalzagar out of the raw wood and pushed off from her lumbering hull. It was easy to unfurl the sail, but actually catching the wind and gaining momentum was another thing entirely and the cutter moved languidly between the bigger ships still fighting above and around him.

Elladan was uncomfortably aware of how easy a target he would be to a trained observer. But no eyes were on him. The black sails hid his identity and intent from the corsairs, while the Gondorians were focusing on the larger ships, their very survival depending on sinking the war ships while ignoring the smaller attack vessels. Any threat of being boarded by the enemy would be seen to by Aragorn's soldiers. For a brief moment Elladan regretted abandoning the men, regretted letting them face the invading pirates alone, but this fight was not his. The battle of the warships would be decided by men like Callon, men of the sea who understood naval warfare. He would be much better use to his brothers - if only to protect them from their own folly.

Again his eyes roamed the waters, looking for any trace of his missing brothers and their stolen ship. He thought he would recognize the shape, its stylized weapon's head distinct, even among this fleet of swarming Umbarian vessels. As the sun sank lower towards the horizon the shadows between the larger vessels lengthened making it harder to pick out the smaller boats between.

Finally he thought he caught a glimpse of it, a brief vision of its deck swarming with corsairs just before a bright explosion ripped the ship apart, blinding him with its intensity.

His heart froze. No!

He must have been mistaken!

But he had moved past the wavering line of Umbarian ships to the open bay and even though he searched desperately, hoping that he had been wrong, he could find no other trace of the ship his brothers had commanded. By the Valar…

His eyes roved back towards the smoldering mess that was left behind from the explosion, wooden planks strewn haphazardly around the water's surface, the stern of the boat wreathed in thick black smoke, even as it rose at an unnatural angle out of the water, tipping over as it was slowly but inevitably pulled beneath the churning waves.

And there on the stern end of the boat, frantically climbing the sinking debris, trying to stay ahead of the waves that were lapping greedily at his heels, trying to find anything to hold on that could support him and would stay afloat, was Egrahil. The sight of his little brother's lieutenant erased all doubt that this had been the ship he and his brothers had fought on, the ship they had used to cause so much confusion and devastation among the corsairs.

He did not dare to consider what that confusion might have cost them. Even though he knew, instinctively, that Elrohir was still alive, still somewhere in these waters, he could catch no sight of him. Fear mounted as the moments trickled by, and still he saw no sign of Elrohir or Aragorn. Even if they had not been caught in the explosion of the weapon itself, they might at this very moment be sinking ever deeper beneath the waves, pulled under the churning waters, hit or trapped by debris.

Except...

Wind tore at a wisp of smoke and as it passed he caught a glimpse of curly hair, stubbornly resisting to lie flat even if drenched in the waters of the entire sea. Aragorn! And next to him, the unmistakable form of his twin.

Elladan's heart leapt with joy at the sight of his brothers, both clinging to a piece of drifting wood and though he could not see their faces that alone told him that they were alert and conscious.

He threw himself against the taut rope in his hands, twisting the sail of the cutter to the side and into the wind, propelling the boat forward with newfound urgency. Its keel cut through the still swirling smoke, parting it before him like a curtain. He dropped the sail quickly, lest the momentum would shoot him past his brothers, and ran to the railing. The low deck was close to the surface of the water and he leant forward, relief rushing through him as Elrohir clasped his outstretched hand. With one tug he hauled his brother on board. He did not miss the wince that marred his twin's features as he pulled on his arm, but whatever his stubborn brother had done to himself this time would have to wait. He allowed himself but a moment to clasp Elrohir's shoulder, to feel the realness of the touch before he went to help Aragorn onto the boat as well. It felt good to finally be doing something, to be there when his brothers needed him.

Their human brother sported a bruise on his cheek that was already turning purple, but shook off Elladan's concern. Once on board, he leaned heavily against the railing at his back, catching his breath. "We need to get Egrahil," he said between wheezes, "and get out of here." His eyes were focused on his lieutenant, and Elladan turned to see the young man already swimming towards them, sure strokes belying his history on the sea.

Elladan clasped the man's wet hand and hauled him onboard as well, turning back to his twin even as Egrahil spoke to Aragorn: "We should turn back, continue the fight!"

Aragorn's answer was hard to make out as he moved to the stern, taking Egrahil with him, their talk fading to quiet chatter in the background. Elladan trusted Aragorn to make the right decision, to steer the ship and take them where they were needed. Right now his concern was his twin.

Elrohir was resting against the gunwale, his posture seemingly relaxed but Elladan knew the telltale signs of pain that tugged at his brother's eyes, the thin tight line of his mouth. Belatedly he realized that some of his own pain did not come from the still healing wound in his side, but he did not need the faint echo of Elrohir's pain to know his twin was injured, the signs were all too clear.

He sighed as he settled in front of Elrohir, "What have you done to yourself this time, little brother?"

Elrohir looked back at him testily, the nickname striking a chord just as it always did in these situations. "Nothing that would require my foolhardy, injured brother to jump off a ship to see to."

Elladan suppressed a smile, the very fact that his brother was complaining and deflecting, telling him that the injury was not serious. Still he peeled Elrohir's wet clothes off of his chest slowly to reveal a round puncture wound, slowly oozing blood, though its edges looked clean after Elrohir's unplanned swim in the bay.

"Do not flatter yourself, little brother. I merely grew bored of the bigger ships and decided to join you down here." He kept up the banter, if only to keep Elrohir's mind off the injury and pain. It seemed to work, as Elrohir glowered at his repeated use of his nickname. Unfortunately, Elrohir's patience for his own injuries was short and he slapped at Elladan's hand, irritated.

"Stop your fussing, oh ancient one. The bolt only hit muscle, it merely needs to be bound."

Elladan stood back, obediently letting his silently fuming twin try and remove his shirt by himself. But the material of it was firmly plastered to his skin by the salt water and Elrohir tugged at his sleeves quite unsuccessfully. Elladan had to suppress a wince when he saw Elrohir stiffen at the obvious pain he caused himself. But his twin's anger was like a summer storm: rare and fast in passing – and better observed from a safe distance.

Eventually Elrohir admitted defeat, his shoulder slumping as he mutely pleaded for help with the insurmountable task of taking off his shirt. Elladan schooled his features into a carefully neutral position as he took his former spot at his twin's side. He peeled back the wet and ruined cloth and looked at the wound again. High and to the side, Elrohir had been right; the crossbow bolt had only hit muscle, not penetrating deep enough to graze bone. He made short work of helping Elrohir out of his shirt, before cutting it into strips under the whining protest of his little brother.

"I liked that shirt."

Elladan paused, then gave his twin a roguish smile. "Perhaps you should not have caught a crossbow bolt with it then." He could have sworn his twin almost pouted at that, but beneath the pain and the indignation there was a spark of humor in Elrohir's eyes. His brother was going to be okay.

Elladan wished he would have had their supplies, would have had actual bandages, or linen, but he had to make do with what was at hand. He winced in sympathy as Elrohir hissed against the sting of the saltwater against his wound when Elladan tied the makeshift, sodden bandages in place. The process left Elrohir pale and shaking and hardly in a better mood, but he refrained from voicing his annoyance again, focused only on breathing deeply to let the pain pass. When he opened his eyes, the pain in them was subdued, replaced instead with his typical concern as he mustered Elladan in turn. Ever the healer and never a good patient, indeed.

"What of your injury? You should not have come."

Elladan refrained from rolling his eyes and raised his hands in a placating gesture, reassuring his twin. "I did not tear Aragorn's precious stitches, 'Ro. I promise."

Elrohir's eyes narrowed and for a moment Elladan feared he might demand proof, but then his twin relented. With a curt nod, he raised his arm on his uninjured side, letting Elladan help him to his feet.

Together they joined Aragorn at the helm.

Their young brother had adjusted the cutter's course. "We have done all we can here, I think," he said to them as they approached. "The rest will be up to Captain Callon and the fleet. They will have a fighting chance. But our own fight will be on the quay of the Havens - if we manage to break away now, we can reach the landings and deal some true damage."

"Something to discourage their venturing into Gondorian waters again for a long time," Egrahil shouted from his place across the ship where he commanded the sail, hoisting it into the wind. He was as enthusiastic as ever, not daunted by the explosion of their former boat or the vastness of the task Aragorn was proposing.

Elladan nodded, though his brother did not need his confirmation and certainly not his approval. It was a wise, if risky, choice - the type that he favored himself. And this time he would not be left behind when they brought destruction to the forces of Umbar.

Already their cutter picked up speed and wind tossed at Elladan's hair as they passed black billows of smoke from where debris still burned on the surface of the bay. The sounds of hurtling stone and arcs of flame, of sailors shouting and dying, faded into the background. They were leaving the battlefield.

His gaze traveled back towards the ships, Umbarian and Gondorian alike, both sides deeply engaged in a bitter fight. Fire on the waters and in the sky as the sun dipped towards the horizon turning the air above the bay a fiery orange to match the hungry flames that danced on the waters. The odds had evened. While the Zigzaril was unlikely to ever leave the bay again, neither would most of the Umbarian vessels. Their sheer overwhelming power had been decimated by the confusion of Aragorn's attack and by the powerful ballistas of the Gondorian fleet.

Aragorn's gaze followed his. "Callon will win this fight," his brother said, with conviction, "but we must turn to the Havens. We must hit them there, now, while their gaze is elsewhere." He turned back to look at them to add something more, but whatever he was about to say was lost in his startled exclamation: "Did Elrohir lose another shirt?"

-o0o-

A/N: That explosion was too good to use only once, right? :D

All jokes aside though, Happy Monday! It's a good day to finally leave overly complex battles fought on open waters behind and do what Aragorn was supposed to do all along aka come "to Umbar unlooked-for by night" - but more about that in the next chapter. In the meantime I would love to hear what you thought about this new chapter and many thanks to everyone who has left a review or comment! You really make my day/week :)