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It was late morning before Falasmir knocked upon the door of Wyrma's chambers. One of her guards opened the door and nodded as he allowed Falasmir to enter. The burly guard led Falasmir to a sitting room where he gestured to a chair as he turned to summon his mistress. Falasmir waited with ill-concealed impatience for Wyrma to appear. To his annoyance, it seemed that she took her own time before the door to her rooms opened and she entered, followed by two guards. Falasmir shot to his feet and began to speak as she approached him.
"The Gondorians..." he began.
She interrupted him with a wave. "I have heard," she said. "I warned you against this game that you played."
"We must catch them," he continued.
"So?" she replied. "I assume that you have sent out your ships?"
"Yes," he answered. "But we would apprehend the criminals much faster if we knew precisely where they were. Perhaps your people could help? Locate them, I mean?"
Wyrma's eyes narrowed. "My people are my concern," she said in a low voice. "I would not have them reveal themselves now. It is too early. But this is a moot point. There are none here in Umbar who can take the form of a bird great enough to fly so far."
"But you..." Falasmir began.
"Me?" Wyrma retorted with a laugh. "If I would not have any of my people reveal themselves in the shape of a bird, what makes you think that I would reveal myself? Think of how your people would panic! No, you will have to catch them by sea or not at all."
"But they return to Gondor!" he hissed.
"So?" she replied. "It will take them seven days or more to travel that distance. By that time all will have been done! You worry too much, Falasmir, my dear. And you should have more confidence in your mighty corsairs!"
He nodded, but her scorn burned his ears...
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One corsair went south against the possibility that the Lonely Star would seek to evade them and hide in some quiet cove. The second went west. The third set out to the north-west and the remaining two made for the north, one travelling just off-shore and the second a mile further out to sea. The black sails billowed and the drums beat rapidly marking time for the oarsmen below. Even so, two days past and no sign of the Gondorian vessel was seen.
It was late in the afternoon of the third day when a man in the crowsnest of the Southern Storm caught sight of a distant sail, far to the north. Through a dark night, the Southern Storm and its sister ship, the Black Wind, sped over the waves. In the morning of the fourth day, the sail was closer and my early afternoon the corsairs had closed enough to see that it was indeed the Lonely Star. Still, it was late in the day before the Southrons drew close. The men of the Lonely Star appeared to be working feverishly with something on its stern.
The Black Wind drew within bowshot of the northerners and its men, armed and ready, arrayed themselves upon her deck. The drums beat a rapid tempo as the slaves below strained to bring their ship closer to their quarry. Aboard the Lonely Star, several sailors heaved something overboard from the stern of the vessel. The captain of the Black Wind laughed. Many were the occasions where he had seen his prey dump its cargo in the vain hope that lightening the load might allow it to escape. His laugh was cut short as a jolt shook the ship and it began to veer off to the side.
"What has happened?' he cried as the distance between the Black Wind and the Southern Star began to grow rapidly. His first mate rushed to the side of the ship and then to the stern, before reporting back to the captain. "Sir, the oars and the rudder are fouled," he answered.
"By what?" snarled the captain.
"A drift net," answered the mate nervously. "Its mesh and hooks have tangled the oars on the port side and fouled the rudder."
"Well fix it!" shouted the captain. But that was a task which was easier said than done. It was several hours before the oars and rudder could be cleared.
The Southern Storm passed its sister ship and closed rapidly upon the Star. This time, no net was thrown from the Star into the sea, or if one was, the Storm passed it by safely. It was nearly dusk when she pulled aside the Lonely Star and her men crowded the rail in preparation for boarding. But as the Storm edged closer, men from the Star threw lines with great hooks up into the Storm's rigging. Even as the Storm's rail came alongside that of the Star, the Gondorians began pulling on the lines they had thrown into the raider's rigging and with pulleys drew a second great net off the deck which swung over towards the corsair.
"Veer off!" cried the Sothron captain. But this was exactly what Saelon wanted. The net fell and draped itself over the starboard side of the corsair and fouled the oars of that vessel as well. The captain cursed, then laughed. "We'll be free soon enough and then we'll get them," he cried. But his mate tapped him on the shoulder and pointed as his eyes grew wide. "She's coming about, sir!"
The Star had swung around and was now charging towards the Southern Storm. It passed by on the Storm's port and a volley of arrows flew towards the corsair. But the captain was more alarmed at another sight. As the Star moved close to the Storm, the Gondorians lifted two great kegs from the deck and heaved them over the side. Each leaked a foul smelling liquid which floated upon the surface of the sea and quickly enveloped the side of the corsair. As the Star swept clear, bowmen launched flaming arrows into the slick of liquid. It caught fire, scorching the side of the Storm. Then the flames reached the barrels which erupted in great gouts of fire, sending a shower of burning oil onto the deck of the corsair.
As the Lonely Star again turned north, Saelon loked back at the corsair. It was listing to the port from damage caused by the explosions and its men were frantically fighting the flames which threatened to engulf that ship. The Star sailed on, and did not encounter any other ships of Umbar before it reached the city of Minas Anor nearly five days later.
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