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Part 2
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Trouble on the Seas
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On his fourth trip Elrond brought a larger entourage, including three ships, and a bigger company with which to set out on foot from Edhellond once he got there. Over the years Celebrimbor had brought Gil-galad such a horde of delightful sparkly treasures that along with tools and weapons Elrond also brought chests of gems and jewelry, which he gifted generously to the realms of both the mortals and elves along his journeys.
After a short visit with the mortal settlements in the forested midlands of Eriador with whom they had been keeping ties, they continued on their way toward the southern elven port. The sky was overcast when the ship convoy turned out of the mouth of the Isen River, and within a few days they were overtaken by a fog drifting toward them from over the sea.
Captain Eäriel grew anxious, wary of visibility as the coast grew more rocky and rugged in these parts, but also of any possible storm that the mists might portend. She led the ships away from the shore a bit, though she kept within sight of it. This course proved well, for the thin Angrast peninsula that marked the turn toward the south coasts jutted sharply out from the land, and would have taken them by surprise had they fared any closer to shore. They passed the headland, and turned to carry on eastward, much relieved to discover that the reach of the fog began to thin here.
A few days later Dúrlos suddenly called out that a group of boats was making their way toward their small fleet. They were small craft, he reported, a scattered array of small sailboats and large rowboats, but there were many of them. The rest of the elves turned their attention toward the shore and could soon see them, quickly counting over three dozen, having emerged suddenly from hidden spots amid the rocky cliffs of the shoreline. They were filled with mortal men with a rough and boorish look to them, Dúrlos said, some small and sinewy, others large and burly.
Elrond worried, for though their own boats were larger and taller, they were slower, and although he had brought better numbers and supplies for this trip, these were still few, and he meant to save them for the journey over land. Eäriel called out to the deck hands to trim the sails and try to pinch a little more speed from the breeze, and the two other ships in the convoy followed suit and the elf rowers pulled harder at their oars to help. But the assailants were fast, being smaller and lighter, each equipped with many oarsmen. Then Dúrlos cried out again, pointing to a larger ship of dark painted wood and black sails, making its way toward them from their other side to the southeast, the opposite direction of their other pursuers.
Elrond brought forth a silver trumpet that he carried and winded it, and all aboard who were not manning the ships' sails and oars sprang to ready a defense. But it was a tough spot, for they thought to try and outpace the horde of small vessels chasing them, but that would put them on a cross path with the oncoming pirate ship. Nor did they want to steer too far from land, for the great mass of fog they had just passed through was still following them eastward, and could bring along an unseen storm at any moment. Eäriel judged that the bigger ship heading toward them hoped to run them aground, and she called for the fleet to turn away from the shore. But fate seemed to be working against them, for try as they might they could not seem to outrun their assailants in the flotilla of rowboats, and also the incoming ship, smaller and lighter than their own elf ships, was swiftly approaching.
All with hands to spare were given weapons, and stores of arrows were brought out and passed around. Soon enough archers were positioned along the rails of each elf ship, as the little boats drew closer, while Dúrlos kept his eye on the approaching vessel. But to the dismay of the elven defenders several men in the boats lifted up large sturdy boards of wood to shield their crewmates. A few elves tested their arrows on these makeshift roofs, but to little avail. At last the boats made it alongside, and some of the larger men began hurling up grapnels toward the rails.
Then suddenly a large arrow thudded into the mast of the flagship: the opposing vessel had come within range. Dúrlos took aim and began returning arrow fire, aiming, for now, at their sails and their oars. Meanwhile the men in the little boats were having success with their grapnels, and were beginning to climb, their heads and hands protected with leather hoods and gloves studded with iron. Elrond was calling orders to cut the lines, as he rushed around the deck with a large knife, slicing ropes as fast as he could. But there were many, too many, and finally he called out to the elves to fall back into a circle at the center of the decks, with a guard set on the captains at the steering oars, setting the rest in a staggered array of archers and swordfighters with their shields.
The assault began spilling over the ship rails, and the elves began firing. Men began quickly falling overboard to arrow and sword, but still more were climbing over with wooden shields at their arms and their clubs and maces ready in their hands. They were followed by men with rope ladders who swiftly fastened them to the rails and cast them over for their comrades to follow. Now the arrows from the opposing ship aimed at the hull down by the water line. But Dúrlos quickly stopped this with a sure shot to their chief archer. But the elves began to despair, for they had good weapons and kept up a stout defense, but their arrows were limited, and they were sorely outnumbered.
Suddenly the sounds of violent cracks were heard, and the battle paused, for none knew the source of it, nor did any know what it was. Another few rounds of these were heard, followed by wails of dismay coming up from the water below. Some of the assailants glanced over, and doubt grew in their eyes over what to do next: follow the course they were currently taking, or retreat to help their comrades and salvage their escape. Some looked to the larger ship which was nearly close enough to pull alongside Elrond's vessel. But it was also taking heavy arrow fire. The elves themselves turned to see, watching many sturdy arrows of very large size rip several long tears through the great black sails of the threatening ship, and poke small holes and large cracks into the hull. At last the elves were emboldened by the mysterious arrival of support, and they turned back to their assailants with invigorated spirit. Elrond cried out to them to charge, and they barreled into the remaining men, the last of whom were shortly tossed over. Then they began loosing arrows at the black ship, until the entire crew dashed below the deck for cover.
At last the elves had a space of calm to take in the battle damage and discover what had happened. The grand arrows that had torn the enemy's sails had also shot grievous holes into the hulls and sails of most of the smaller boats. The horde of corsair pirates were now occupied with salvaging their way back to shore, and the crew of the larger ship had at last backed down and ceased their attack, and were slowly laboring to pull away again, with a good deal of damage to their own to worry about. The small elven fleet drifted past them, until they had cleared the wreck of pirates struggling to manage their wreckage of boats. Then Dúrlos cried out again, pointing back down their path behind them. For sailing up from the west was another trio of large white ships with bright sails of red and gold. Then he called in rejoicing: "The Numenoreans!"