Part 12: Next morning

Legolas opened the cabin door and stepped out into the fresh, early morning air.

The wind had dropped during the night, and The Shieldmaiden, her burner tended by Haldir, was calmly waiting to set sail upon the breeze.

“Good morning, my Lord,” said Master Eldacar, who—standing at a small desk built into the deck—was taking readings from various strange instruments, and recording the results in a tiny notebook. He appeared to have spent the night on deck, but looked none the worse for it. “With your permission, and your kind assistance, my Lord, I should like to lift anchor as soon as possible. By my calculations, if these conditions hold, it will take us just under twelve hours to reach the Dead Marshes.”

“Have you ever visited the Dead Marshes, sir?” asked Legolas, tactfully.

“No, my Lord.” Eldacar made another note.

“Those waters shelter the remains of warriors, Master Eldacar, lost in the great Battle of Dagorlad.”

“I understand that, my Lord,” said Eldacar and, for the briefest of moments, Legolas was allowed to glimpse the razor-sharp wits behind the scholar’s customary vagueness, “but marshland offers us our best hope of a safe landing. And I do not believe the noble dead will begrudge us that.”

“No… No, that is well said, sir,” said Legolas. “But the marshes hold other hazards.” He glanced towards the cabin where Eowyn was still sleeping. “There are poisonous snakes, sir, and clouds of biting insects, and I myself have seen strange flames which, they say, signal the presence of death.”

“Marsh gases,” said Eldacar, quietly. Then, “The Shieldmaiden is equipped for all climes and conditions, my Lord. I assure you, there are measures we can take to ensure that Lady Eowyn is safe and comfortable.”

“Good,” said Legolas, though not entirely convinced. “Thank you, sir.” He decided to raise a question that had been troubling him ever since the ship had broken away from her moorings: “May I ask, sir, how you originally planned to land The Shieldmaiden?”

The scholar smiled a huge, elfling’s smile. “A tower, my Lord! Yes, we would have built a great wooden tower, standing high above the trees—naturally, we would have had to site it some way away from the carantaur forest. But then The Shieldmaiden could have drawn up to it, and moored, and its passengers would have disembarked and made their own way down to the ground, whilst the ship was being attached to hoists. And then the bladder would have been deflated, and the hull lowered gently to the ground.”

Legolas smiled, sharing, in his mind’s eye, the scholar’s vision. “You may build it yet, sir.”

“I hope so, my Lord,” said Eldacar. “Now, might I trouble you to wake the boy?”

…

The elves raised the anchors and, with Arador adjusting the burner according to strange, coded instructions from Master Eldacar, they tacked their way north north east, sailing high above the Forest, and running parallel with the great River Anduin, visible to the east.

“I should like to see Eryn Carantaur from up here,” said Eowyn. “It is so pleasant when the weather is good!”

“You are not nervous, being up so high?” asked Legolas.

“No. I feel quite safe.” She smiled at him. “But I am not needed here on deck, Lassui. I shall go down to the galley, and prepare some food.”

“That is a kind thought, melmenya.” Legolas saw Haldir’s shoulders sag. “I will help you.”

...

By mid afternoon they were crossing the western foothills of Emyn Arnen.

“Look,” said Eowyn, pointing at the ground, “that is us! Our shadow!”

She and Legolas watched the dark image of The Shieldmaiden ripple over the grass and the trees, and fall upon a party of horsemen on the Caras Arnen road. “Merchants,” said Eowyn. “Or carriers, perhaps.”

“No, melmenya, no,” said Legolas. “It is not merchants…” Then he cried, excitedly, “Arador, may I borrow your gloves?”