Chapter Four: Escape
There, Elrond nodded. That seemed good; now to make sure the Corsairs saw it.
He waited for the ink to dry, rolled up the parchment, then carefully picked it up and returned to the barracks. Hovering several feet above the Corsairs, Elrond unrolled the parchment slowly.
One of the men suddenly looked up and gave a shout, pointing a forefinger toward the (apparently) floating parchment. "Look! Up there!"
Several others followed his gaze, and gasped. "What the—"
"It's ol' Blackfinger!" wailed one. "He's come to haunt us!"
"Don't be stupid, it's just a message!" another rebuked him.
"So what's it say, huh?" yet another demanded.
Elrond let the parchment drop as he left the room, the Corsairs' voices floating into his ears.
"'Death waits for all who… remain… here… beware the sirens, they… drowned me. They're… coming back for more. Don't follow the… music.' It's signed by him!"
Elrond laughed to himself as he sped away to find Galadriel.
"It's time!" Elrond called out to his mother-in-law, tumbling down toward the sea on a lazy current. "Start singing!"
"Singing what?"
"Something to grab those Corsairs' hearts and make them forget how to sail the ship," Elrond answered. "That's what sirens do."
Galadriel nodded, lifting her voice in an eerie melody:
"Ai tula dan na i'Aear
Lasto i lind en i Aerwin
Tula dan, ú-rada lletan
Quorin ned i lindale…"
"Keep going," Elrond told her. "I'll warn Daeglir."
He darted aboard the ship, hurrying to Daeglir's cupboard. Slipping inside, he curled around the boy's head. "It's me."
"I'm glad you're back, sir," said the boy. "What's going on? I can hear music…"
"Don't be alarmed," Elrond said calmly. "It's just Galadriel pretending to be a siren."
Daeglir sighed in relief. "That's good news. But what'll happen to the Corsairs?"
"Hopefully, they'll believe that she is a siren, be captivated by her beautiful singing and become so lovestruck that they'll forget how to steer the ship."
"Is that the plan?"
Elrond nodded. "Yes. Now all you have to do is wait. I'm going to investigate."
"Good luck," Daeglir called after his friend.
Elrond swept through the ship and, sure enough, all of the Corsairs were swaggering over the deck, talking in slurred voices and gazing around them with glazed eyes. They gathered at the prow, where Galadriel danced through the water, still singing.
The wind-spirit beamed; this was perfect. No-one was manning the tiller. But he soon would be.
Grasping two of the wheel's eight protruding knobs in his unseen hands, Elrond turned the tiller to the left. The ship was headed more or less straight for the shore, and he didn't want that; they had a ways to go yet.
The Corsairs were blissfully unaware of their altered course; all they were concerned about was Galadriel. Some of them were climbing up on the rail, attempting to jump from the ship and into the water. And a few of them succeeded.
Galadriel watched the pirates plunge one after another into the sea and thought, Good riddance. No-one should go unpunished for imprisoning an innocent child.
Back on the ship, Elrond was learning quickly how to steer. He clung resolutely to the tiller as the wind tried to pull him away time and time again.
The sun was sinking in the sky, and shadows were spreading across the crimsoned sea. A dark smudge in the distance might have been the Grey Havens; he couldn't be sure at this distance.
Galadriel was still singing, and more and more of the dazed Corsairs were leaving the ship; Elrond's job was increasingly easy, as there were less and less pirates aboard who might snap out of their trancelike state and interfere.
But Galadriel's distant voice sounded as though it was growing tired. Elrond glanced around him, looking for something to hold the tiller in place.
There was a rope lying carelessly on the deck, just beyond his reach; he grasped at it as he tried not to let go of the tiller.
Blast it! He couldn't quite reach… his invisible fingers scrabbled uselessly at the air, just inches from the coiled cord. A little further… further… yes!
Elrond snatched up the rope, tying the wheel tightly in place. It creaked slightly in the wind, but remained steady. Satisfied, the wind-spirit hurried away to check on Daeglir; the boy was still locked in his cupboard belowdecks.
"Are you all right, Daeglir?" he asked, slipping softly through the crack beneath the cupboard door.
"I'm fine," the child replied. "Are you?"
"Yes. I just came to check on you."
"Alright… how are your friends?"
"Galadriel seems to be getting tired," Elrond said nervously. "I'm not very sure about Gandalf."
"You'd better check on him, too," Daeglir told him.
Elrond nodded, but lingered for a moment longer. "Can you swim?"
"I never tried," Daeglir replied honestly. "Why?"
Elrond cursed silently. "My newest plan involves getting you off of the ship and into the water. And if you can't swim…"
"What about Lady Galadriel?" asked the boy. "Can't she hold me up or something?"
The wind-spirit considered this. "She might be able to; she's strong, and I'm willing to bet that you're extremely light. We could try."
Without further ado, he whooshed up to the galley again.
"Gandalf! Gandalf!"
"I'm here," Gandalf replied calmly from the oven embers. "Is something wrong?"
"I think I've found something for you to do," Elrond told him. "Galadriel's getting tired, and I doubt she'll be able to hold the Corsairs in check for much longer, so—"
He broke off as a faint but angry voice rang out from above them. "What the–? Who tied up the tiller?"
"Oh dear," Gandalf murmured. "What is it you wanted me to do?"
"Set the ship ablaze," Elrond replied. "Send the Corsairs to the depths."
"What about Daeglir?"
"Galadriel and I can help him."
"He is locked in a cupboard, Elrond. How will he get out?"
Elrond fell silent. He hadn't thought of that. But he brightened as a notion dawned on him.
"If the Corsairs cared enough about ransom, they would want to keep Daeglir alive for as long as possible. It stands to reason that they'd try not to let him be harmed, does it not?"
"You have a point," nodded the fire-spirit. "Very well – get to work. Scatter the embers around the galley."
Elrond nodded, flinging the oven door wide with a gust of wind and throwing embers left and right. Flames soon filled the room; the wind-spirit escaped through the hole in the floor he had used to enter.
He rushed back into Daeglir's cupboard, where the boy was whimpering in fear. "I can smell smoke. The ship is burning!"
"I know," said Elrond. "If I'm right, some Corsair is going to be here at any moment to get you out of here."
"How do you know?" asked the boy fearfully.
"Because they have a reason for keeping you alive," said Elrond. "Ah, there he is…" A drumming of footsteps had reached his keen ears.
A moment later the cupboard door rattled and burst open. A brawny Corsair scooped up the child and hurried away; Elrond sailed along at his heels. They hurried up to the main deck, where the Corsair lowered himself and the child he carried into a longboat.
"Now, don't you even think about trying to escape," the pirate snarled as he picked up an oar and began to row awkwardly with one hand. "You're going nowhere but down if you fall out."
"I wouldn't say that," whispered two calm voices from the sky and sea.
The Corsair yelped in shock, promptly dropping the oar into the water. "I'm hearin' things! Something's messed with me head!"
"There's no denying that," said the voice in the wind. "Whatever would possess a man to incarcerate an innocent child?"
"I never in-car-cer-ated nothin'!" the Corsair yelled. "We just found the kid an' kept him safe, see? An' now I'm headed to give him back to his mummy!"
"Yes, in exchange for gold coins," muttered a contemptuous voice in the water.
"Well, yeah, but at least he's alive, ain't he?"
The wind's voice gave a scornful laugh. "Barely alive, no thanks to you. If it hadn't been for our timely intervention – the message I wrote, and the siren you heard…"
"Wait a sec– are you Blackfinger, then?" the Corsair frowned.
"That is not one of my titles, though I have a few," the voice in the air replied.
The Corsair's thick eyebrows furrowed as he puzzled over this. "So was that siren the real thing?"
"You flatter me," said the voice in the water.
"This is mad," the Corsair muttered, his eyes crossing in confusion. "All of it…"
"Well, this is the first sign of madness, isn't it?" said the voice in the wind brightly. "Hearing voices that you can't see… unless, of course, you're friends with them."
Daeglir smirked, obviously trying to stifle a giggle. The Corsair didn't see it, however; he was too busy shoving the child off of his lap. He stood up, and the little boat wobbled dangerously.
"I really don't advise you to do that," said Galadriel warningly.
"I don't care about what you think!" the man yelled, as the vessel continued to rock. "You're nothin'! You're just a voice in my head! I'm getting' outta—aaaggghhh!"
He toppled sideways and fell with a great splash into the sea. He surfaced spluttering and struggling to stay afloat, a little way away from the capsized boat Daeglir was now clinging desperately to.
Elrond hastily covered the child's ears, cringing at the stream of curses coming from the floundering pirate's mouth. Choking and gasping, the man sank under the water with a burst of desperate bubbles. He didn't come up again.
Elrond shuddered as he helped Galadriel turn the longboat upright. Daeglir scrambled into it, his wet body shaking with cold.
"What an awful way to die," the boy muttered.
"Dreadful," Elrond agreed. "Now, let's get you back home."
"I wonder where Gandalf is?" Galadriel inquired.
"I didn't see him on the ship," said Elrond. "But I'm sure he's all right, wherever he is. Let's get moving."
Guided by Elrond's breezes and Galadriel's waves, the little boat made its way slowly toward the haven on the dark horizon.