[Arry]

The salt water stung his wound intensely. Annû sucked in his breath and eased himself away from the Spirit, swimming with strong strokes toward the Corsair vessel. Elwë followed close behind him. Both of them had stripped down to their breeches and carried a knife and clubs as weapons. A dozen other of the crew had also slipped over the side at Luindal’s request, their own knives, clubs, and swords well secured against the heaving of the waves.

Elwë was the one who had taken the rope the Captain had offered. When all had gathered at the far side of the Corsair ship, Elwë threw the rope with its small grappling hook up toward the long boat that hung from the davit. The curved prongs caught on the rim of the boat, and Elwë climbed up quickly, hand over hand. the others followed suit, clambering into the boat as quietly as they could. Annû was the last one up. He pulled the rope up after him, stowing it in the bottom of the boat.

It was only a short distance from where the boat was suspended to the deck of the ship. With a great yell, the Elves sprang from the cover of the boat, leapt over the ship’s railing, and poured onto the deck, their weapons slashing and bashing with great effect. In the midst of the sudden confusion, Elwë, Annû, and one other Elf made their way toward the plank where Andtuariel was perched . . .