Bard of Laketown

Part Twenty-Six

BARD'S POV

I reach the centre of town to find the dwarves already there. Not surprisingly, every citizen of Lake-town is there as well, but so is the Master, standing on a wooden platform, with Alfrid skulking beside him.

The Master, apparently having found out where the dwarves are going, is praising their bravery, their strength.... I could almost see the word 'lie' coming from his mouth.

His next words, however, come as a shock. "Thorin Oakenshield, it is my honour to wish you luck on reclaiming the mountain. Long have we lived in the shadow of the dragon, waiting for dwarves such as you to come along and save us all."

I step forward angrily. "And you will let them take all that gold for themselves? Look at your people. They are starving, freezing, and exhausted. Surely we need those riches more than these dwarves!"

The townspeople's faces have shock written all over them. It is clear to everybody how little I respect the Master's choices, but I have never voiced my opinions so openly.

Thorin steps up to me, his eyes furious. "Long were the days when my ancestors waited for the mountain to be returned to us. We have a chance. A chance to reclaim Erebor, a chance to slay Smaug!"

"We have been living in the shadow of the mountain for sixty years. Do you not think that we have more right to the gold than any one of you? As it is also foretold, the bowman will slay the dragon. I am the bowman, and it is my right to slay the dragon!"

Thorin raises an eyebrow. "Is that so? When the dragon came, how many times did your great-grandfather fire upon it with those rare black arrows, missing it each and every time? Will your people trust you to succeed in what he could not do?"

I hear murmurs echoing throughout the crowd. What can I do to make myself be heard? "Yet the dwarves did nothing when the dragon came," I say angrily. "All they thought of was their vast store of treasure, and it drove them mad. They had more than they needed- but look at us! We are a people dying of hunger. We need this chance to survive."

Everyone's eyes are fixated on me. I turn around slowly, waiting for the Master to speak. "Thorin Oakenshield is right," he says. "Your ancestor brought this downfall upon us. It was his task, one that he failed at, one that killed thousands of our people." He turns now to Thorin. "Go, now, to the Mountain. You have all our best wishes for you."

Thorin nods, then turns to the river, where a number of boats are waiting. "Come. Our kingdom waits for us."

The dwarves turn back to look at me, some with angered expressions, others sympathetic. As they begin to board the boats, I see Kili fall to the ground, clutching his leg. Just as I thought, his leg is far from being healed. Thorin turns to look at him. "Kili, stay here. You will not be coming with us to Erebor." Fili is kneeling beside Kili with a concerned look in his eyes.

"Fili!" Thorin commands. "He does not need your help. You belong with this Company."

Fili looks at him angrily. "You are wrong, Uncle. I belong with my brother."

Thorin turns away and gets into one of the boats. Fili drags Kili over to me.

"Please," he begs, "he needs help."

"Did you not tell me he would soon be dead?" I say.

"Yes, but maybe there is hope for him yet."

I look at them both, so young. What can it hurt? At least Kili will die in peace.

I walk to the other side of Kili and support some of his body weight. "Fine," I say.