[Thinlómien]

Lingwë could see the enemies in the twilight. Dark shapes against the night sky. Some of them were standing still and some were shooting arrows. Surprisingly few of them were on the move, except the sailors who were working to steer the ship at their captain’s slightest command.

Arrows were exchanged as the ships drew closer. Only a few men on either ship fell; they were standing side by side, their shields defending themselves and each other.

With a sudden crash the ships collided. Orders were shouted and then the command came. Lingwë, along with his companions rushed to the decks of the Fame and Fortune. “Gondor!” they shouted.

Sergeant Nillendion was on the lead. This was the moment of his glory. Starlight reflected from his helmet and his long sword. “For Telumehtar, the rightful King of Gondor!” he yelled as he charged.

What happened next wasn’t beautiful. Many men on the front line fell as they were mercilessly fired by the corsair archers. However, the arrows seemed to avoid Sergeant Nillendion and he remained unhurt.

Lingwë was among the last ones to board the Fame and Fortune. When he stepped on the enemy decks, most of his company was already fighting the corsairs. But soon he noticed there were plenty of corsairs for everyone.

“Sergeant Nillendion! To the sergeant’s aid! He is been surrounded by the enemy!” Lingwë turned his head towards the shouter. That was a bad mistake. He heard a sword swing behind him and knowing he could never be fast enough he prayed for a swift death.

But the blow never came. Lingwë turned fast enough to see an arrow sticking from the corsair’s shoulder. Someone had just saved his life. He lifted his sword to strike the man. As Lingwë’s sword cut the corsair’s side an arrow pierced his forehead. The man fell screaming.

Only a few seconds had passed, but it had been an eternity for Lingwë. The Gondorians around him were hurrying somewhere. It took a moment for Lingwë to remember the situation. Along with his companions he hurried to the sergeant’s aid.

Sergeant Nillendion fought desperately. He and his five companions were outnumbered. One by one they fell fighting beside him until only he remained alive. The sergeant heard his faithful soldiers hasten to his aid, but in his heart he knew they were too late. A colossal corsair swung his gigantic sword towards him. As he parried it, a cruel-looking scimitar hit him from behind.

That was the end of Nillendion, a faithful sergeant of Gondor.

Only a few seconds after the fatal blow the wielder of the scimitar was beheaded by commander
Darnir’s sword.

“Belowdecks! He was trying to get belowdecks! Follow me!” commander Darnir yelled. The soldiers rallied to him, simultaneously trying to parry the swords and the arrows of the corsairs.

The Gondorians started to fight their way to get belowdecks. They moved slowly; the corsairs were trying to hinder them by all means.

To Lingwë it was like a never-ending nightmare. Countless times he parried and stroke. Numbly he aimed a heavy blow at a corsair who was about to finish from behind the man who fought beside Lingwë. Lingwë hit and the corsair fell. As Lingwë glanced at the man he had saved he was shocked to recognise the face. “Don’t tell the cap”, the Cook said and grinned looking a bit disoriented, but managed to parry a blow aimed at his head. Before Lingwë could say anything he got busy with defending himself from a violent series of blows.

Slowly but firmly the company advanced belowdecks. Many fell on the way but the rest reached their destination.