Naraal

With the two crews working together it took only eight days to make the Shakilgimil sea-worthy again.

So we were marooned at Bax Garâkh for almost two weeks. Not that it was a terrible event, save for those who had other work to be about. Save for me, save for Farrin possibly, for he was the only surviving injured crewmember, having a broken leg. We had no healer on board, but such a problem was straightforward. Some of the crew had enough experience to straighten and set the break, and we had enough khôrob to stifle the screams.

Onward, as silently as possible. No need to muffle the oars in such a heavy fog, they would not be heard. If the elves were using oars, as they occasionally did when the wind deserted them, they, too, went unheard. 

There were thirty one left. 

With the right winds it would take around five weeks to be back in Umbar Baharbel. With pursuit and attack from the Uinenlindë, out of Mithlond, it took a bit longer.

Estarfin readied his shield and spear and headed straight at Naraal, determined the Corsair would die this time. He had eluded the Noldo in Nan Wathren. It would not happen again. The man was responsible for Danel’s capture, apparently enthralled by her, and dared to touch her. She had struck him in return, but such an affront to her, to any lady of his people, could only result in this. The Dwarf could wait a little while for his turn to die.

Yaelithe in Linhir was possibly her only hope. But it was a distance away, and Khahaynd was injured in body and even more so in spirit. She was not sure she would make it. She had fled the Elves, not because of their weapons, but because of their love. Strange, unknown, unwanted emotions had been evoked in her. She had no time for them.

What did I think when I first saw Azrazôr? If I am honest, I am uncertain. He looks the part, he acts the part, and he feels the part. So why am I not elated?

We had all thankfully changed into the clean clothing and polished armour that was presented to us. It was a job well done. ‘An honour to be of service’, several of the Elves said. My two companions looked positively shining, whereas I felt more myself, as I looked at my reflection in the water. A plain but thick, light brown hooded cloak, over a cream coloured tunic, belted at my waist, with light brown hose and soft leather boots. 

Henepa looked apologetically at the elves. They were not unmoved by her predicament, her ragged and filthy clothes and her pain shadowed eyes, but they had their own quest, their own folk to rescue urgently. 

The Captain nodded at the water skin. “Keep it,” he said to her.