...

~ Pirates ~

And so they continued this way, after the little river met the Greyflood. It had now reached September, and over the next few cool and overcast days the river had widened to almost a mile. A ways ahead on the north shore they spied a magnificent old tower. On either side were the crumbling wooden walls of little fortressed villages along the river, with several decrepit old docks jutting out into the water; the ruins of an ancient system of river posts from an unguessed number of years ago. Gulls began to appear, squawking as they glided overhead. Elraen watched them floating by overhead, wishing she had asked Radagast about asking birds for help, wondering if it would do much good here.

They had now run clear out of food, and they were weary even with several days of journey by boat had spared them much toil on foot. It was plain that trying to walk anywhere would be folly without more provisions. Elraen began to wonder if they could even make it as far as the mouth of the Brandywine River.

Around noon the current began to pick up - they were finally approaching the mouth of the Greyflood. Into view now came much larger piers, going along the northern shore until they disappeared from sight, ancient and nearly all ruined beyond usable. But as they grew closer to the tower more works of stone came into view: a layered fortress adorned with ramparted walls, and ahead in the distance a great quay, smoothed and worn by the waves, jutting out into the water.

They needed to get closer to shore lest the current push them too far out to sea. The day was clear and fine, and as the afternoon began to wane Elraen and the dwarves got the boat to the north shore by one of the smaller docks, and they trekked a short ways inland toward the ruins of a small town. Then she realized they had made it - just up ahead was the great sea.

Elraen gasped, her breath caught at the sight of the water stretching out in every direction. The afternoon was waning, and the breeze softly kissed her face, the deep gold sun behind them cast upon the endless rolling waves in all manner of colors, red and orange and purple with glittering white spreading wide down the center.

She stood staring at the sight for a long moment when suddenly along the shore she spied something that stood out. There it was - a thin wooden pole with black fabric draped down beside it.

"Wait here!" she said quietly as she set her pack down.

Much relieved at the opportunity to rest on dry land they promptly sat down. "What is it?" asked the youngest.

"There's a ship!" she exclaimed in a whisper, and started casually walking towards it. She thought Lond Daer had been abandoned for thousands of years. Before the dwarves could protest against such a careless approach she had started off, her weary and hungry mind overwhelmed with thoughts of finding food. Elraen began making her way past the old wooden buildings running parallel to the riverbank, which lay a good half mile before the ancient high ramparts beyond, and cut in layers below a small complex of stone buildings which were topped by the grand tower, all seemingly carved out of a living mountain like wood whittled by a giant among giants and set upon the flat tidal plain surrounding the mouth of the river. Elraen wondered how long it must have taken to transport and assemble the stone, for there seemed to be few sources from which to cut it in these parts. The dark little windows speckled upon the tower all looked down on the remains of the town with a dreadfully haunted feeling to their gaze. Down here by the river bank were the wooden bones of the old town, with its weather-eaten structures and boardwalks. Elraen hadn't got far at all when from behind large scrub brush growing wild along the boards popped a tall man with a scruffy beard and disheveled hair, and holding up a great bow with an arrow strung pointed at her.

Elraen jumped back a step startled with a gasp. The man started toward her. "Thought you could get a jump on us eh, sweetheart? Thinkin yous clever enough to rob us, huh?" he said as she backed away. Another man armed with a bow and arrow jumped out from behind another bush. "We seen your little boat a mile off," said the second one. "Curious little gang, here. Boss'll wanna have a look at you lot," added the first.

Off they were trotted at arrow point to the quay, and onto their large brown ship. The men untied the rope and pulled up the plank. Elraen did not like the look of that. Whatever their intentions, there was now no hope of release or escape by land. She also turned, looking back in the direction they had left the boat, lamenting the loss of her pack which she had left in the little boat, nearly empty though it was. The ship pulled away from the worn and weathered and otherwise uninhabited harbor and turned northward. 'Going north. There's one thing in our favor at least,' thought Elraen.

They were herded toward the middle of the deck. One of the sailors noticed the odd shape at Elraen's back. He pulled back her cloak and found the sword. "Thinking you'd save this for later?" he snorted at her, and pulled it from the sheath. She gasped. "No!" she cried and lunged to reach for it. That resulted in a fierce shove to the floor, and the Dwarves received likewise.

"Precious thing to you eh, dearie?" he said to her. "It'll be worth all the more to the cap'n then."

Another sailor came up and tossed a loaf of stale bread and a flagon of water at them. At this point none of their odd group of prisoners was feeling too proud to accept. Elraen took up the loaf and broke it into four, and passed out the pieces, and she and her companions hurriedly finished them. The rest of the crew busied with tightening the sails and taking up positions; one climbing to the nest at the top of the mast. She looked around watching them for a bit, and thought it an awfully large ship for having such a small crew. She wondered if the ship itself was stolen.

At last after an hour the captain strode out from inside the cabin. His boots made a booming stomp as he walked. He came around and stood before them, a tall burly man with a tanned face and a dark bushy brown beard. The sailor holding the sword came up to him. "Girl had this on 'er," he said, holding it up. "Precious thing to her it is," he added.

The captain took it to inspect it. He chuckled. "I can see why - if this thing's worth half as much as it looks then it was already worth rounding up the lot of you," he said in a grumbling scratchy voice. He handed it back to his mate to hold onto and gazed at her with a puzzled look. "Playing soldier on some secret mission, eh little girl?" he continued. "I'll wager that you'll fetch a fine ransom with that thing."

She dared not reveal that no one now alive in Middle-Earth even knew she existed or that she had the sword, least of all anyone of importance who could offer money.

"What bout them Dwarves?" asked the mate.

The captain glanced at them, looking rather pitiful in their tattered dirty coats, still strung together with a heavy iron chain. "They don't look like much," he replied. "Toss em over," he said, and a couple of crew members yanked them onto their feet and started pushing them toward the gap in the rail, against which the prisoners were too weak to give much resistance.

"Are not the dwarves famous hoarders of treasure?" Elraen blurted out in a hurry. "They'd be worth a good ransom too."

The crew members paused to wait for the captain's answer. "These rabble are plainly from the Blue Mountains. Ain't no treasure left up there," he replied with a wave of his hand. "And don't wanna risk the bewitchments of the elf country up there, no how. No need to bring 'em along now; the only Men with money's in the south. We're turnin that way to find a buyer for you and your beautiful sword," he said to Elraen with a big grin that revealed several missing teeth. He nodded toward the two crewmembers who resumed prodding the dwarves to the edge, and the captain strode over to the wheel. Nim tried to chime in protest, or to try and persuade them otherwise, but got a swift kick to the back with a barked warning to quiet down. Down with him went the others as the chain yanked them forward. The sailors gave out a cruel laugh and shouted at them to get up. The wind started to pick up and blow every which way.

Elraen was at a loss over what to do. Besides losing her new comrades, going south would likely mean a bad ending for her, too, where anyone who even knew of the sword would likely figure she stole it, or inherited it from someone who stole it. In the distance thunder started to rumble.

Elraen watched the captain's mate stride toward the rail to oversee the execution. She couldn't have explained what happened next or what good she thought it would do, but a desperate panic overcame her and she charged at him. She crashed into him before he could react, and amid his surprise she grabbed the sword from his hand as he tumbled over the rail and fell into the water. A flash of lightning cracked a few miles away followed by a boom of thunder.

Elraen swung around toward the rest of them. "Back up!" she cried, raising the sword. They stopped, and even leaned back a step. But the captain had not been idle, and in a flash she had a knife at her throat with her hair pulled back tight.

"Drop it, girl," he grumbled, "or your corpse is going in with 'em!" The captain nodded to some of the others who scrambled to lower the anchor and look for their crew mate. She lowered the sword.

All of a sudden three large arrows, longer and sturdier and more finely wrought than those of the sailors, landed on the deck all around them. They looked to have been shot from up ahead to the north but none could see from where.

At the same time the lookout up in the nest was shouting something but no one could make it out over the noise of the wind.

"What is it?" shouted up one of the crew. The man in the nest kept shouting. At last the wind slowed enough to hear: "Sea swell!" he was crying frantically pointing off due west.

The captain held firm but his nerves began to fray. He pushed the knife harder as he swung his head to get a look and ordered the anchor dropped. Elraen could scarcely dare to breathe. Suddenly a fourth arrow struck, straight through the ribs of her captor. He dropped to the floor, but not without leaving a terrific scrape upon her neck. Elraen lunged to grab hold of the rail with her free arm. Half a moment later the great swell reached them.

It was an enormous hill of a wave that crashed over and tilted the ship so steeply that suddenly the remaining men tumbled down, flying off the deck into the sea, where they were swallowed up and carried off by it. The dwarfs tumbled over each other and slid down until they hit the side of the captain's cabin in the middle of the deck. Elraen tried to hold onto the rail but the force of the sway was so violent that her grip was loosened, and she slid across the deck, which sloped almost straight into the air, until she was stopped by the opposite rail. Then the water crashed over them all like the surf over the beach, as Elraen reached desperately for one of the posts. But the ship lurched as it returned to its original position, and she fell back with a smack to the deck by the back of her head. But just as soon as it came the wave had passed, and the storm calmed; the pirates were gone, and the ship returned to a gentle rocking upon the sea.