The Lion and his Lady

Flotsam: Chapter 2

He had been abducted by a madwoman! "Now listen," Éomer said. "That's enough." He half got up to take the tiller from her.

That moment she did something with the sail that made the boat buck. Alarmed, he had to grab the mast to keep from pitching over the side.

"Want to take over the steering?" the girl asked in a sweet voice. "In that case you'd better watch those sandbanks, they're tricky. And there's a nasty current sweeping you in towards the cliffs."

Éomer hesitated. In truth he had no idea how to handle a sailing boat. Choppy and streaked with brown, the sea no longer resembled a smooth mirror, but on the contrary looked decidedly uninviting.

He sat back down and crossed his arms on his chest. "Fine," he drawled. "Show me what you can do, shark-girl." Never let it be said that he would not accept a challenge.

She lifted her chin in answer, but was too busy dealing with the sail and adjusting the tiller to reply, scrambling from one side to the other. Twice more he had to duck out of the way of the piece of wood at the bottom of the sail. The girl was truly lethal with that thing.

The moment they passed the mouth of the bay, the sea changed. A long swell lifted them up; above them the sail flapped, then filled when she adjusted the angle.

As the boat shot forward, a wave of spray doused him, sending cold water down his back.

"Sorry," she said without contrition.

Éomer shook saltwater from his hair. How had the girl reached the age of what – twenty? – without being strangled? The pink scarf clung like a clammy shroud to his buttocks.

But as the sea opened up before them, the boat settled down into a steady rhythm, taking the waves like a spirited horse jumping over a fence. The water rushed along the hull in a smooth curve and behind them a white wake formed on the deep blue of the sea.

He squinted his eyes against the sun sparkling on the waves. Ahead of them lay a chain of small islands, the sails of the fishing boats scattered amongst them. Gulls shot by with hoarse cries, diving past the bow and racing them across the waves. Taking a deep breath of the bracing air, he laughed. It was exhilarating.

Looking back at the girl, who was perched on the side rail, he found his joy echoed in her face. She gave him a sudden grin. "Want to go even faster?"

"Always."

"Then sit on the high side too." She pointed to the left. "It helps stiffen the boat. But make sure to hold on tight."

When he did as told, she released a rope, slowly letting out more sail. The boat began to cant, at the same time picking up even more speed.

He saw what she meant. Their weight help to counterbalance the wind in the sails. Leaning out further, he whooped out loud at the way they flew along. This was glorious!

Too soon they drew near the islands, and she eased off, until they coasted along under a light breeze.

"So what do you say, horse-lord?" she asked.

He settled back in his place in the bottom of the boat. "I would not mind doing that again, shark-girl. It's as exciting as a horse race."

She chuckled. "I suppose that is high praise, coming from one of the Rohirrim."

All the bad mood blown away by the wind, they grinned at each other.

She got out a basket stored under her seat. "Are you hungry? I've got some food along, nothing special, but–"

"I'm starving," he interrupted her.

The basket held a loaf of bread, a couple of ham sausages, a jar of olives preserved in oil and small parcels of crumbly goat cheese wrapped in wine leaves.