She found Bofur and the two horses tucked into an alley at the edge of the housing sector.
"About time ya showed up," he grumbled as he patted the horses necks. "Ya know there was talk of turning these two beauties into stew. I trust that you are now ready to abscond to Dale. Where is Bilbo?"
"He went to find Balin." She said, trying to reorient herself.
She tucked the ring from Thorin's finger into her pocket. After showing Dwalin the letters from Thorin he had reluctantly agreed to stand guard over Thorin until help arrived at the mountain. But before she had gone he had insisted that she take the ring from Thorin's finger for Fili. She hadn't liked the idea, but she had agreed.
"Balin?" questioned Bofur, raising an eyebrow. "Why Balin? Pretty sure Thorin put a kibosh on negotiating when he shot that leggy prince."
She grimaced at his nickname. "I need Balin. I don't want to get anyone else in trouble but he's needed. He… he doesn't need to know about the edict locking down the mountain."
Bofur pulled at the corner of his mustache thinking. "I suppose yer right about that. But do ya need him enough that ya would lie to him?"
"Not lie… just not tell."
"It amounts to the same, lass and ya know it," said Bofur. "Besides, Thorin's already branded me a traitor for leaving the mountain to meet the elves, but Balin… he won't be happy when he finds out ya withheld that particular tidbit."
She sighed. He was right of course. "To be honest, you were already on Thorin's bad side before today."
"What, for the incident with Airidan in the treasure room?"
"That… and other things."
"Such as?"
"He is jealous of you at times," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "He suspects that we're involved romantically and that's only gotten worse lately."
He let out a breath, puffing out his cheeks, as he rocked back on his heels. "Can't say as it's never crossed my mind. I did sneak that kiss from ya after all."
Her face grew hot. "I… I thought you were just goading Thorin," she spluttered.
The corner of Bofur's mouth twitched upward as the heat crept down her neck. "A bit a both lass. Don't look so shocked. I dare say it's crossed the mind of much of the company at one point or another. We may be dwarves but we're still male and female dwarves are in … short supply… in more ways than one."
She couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her. "I'm not exactly tall."
"So yer more like a dwarf… who's to complain," he said with a shrug and roguish grin.
The sound of footsteps drew their attention and Bilbo and Balin rounded the corner into the alley.
"Ms. Sara, Bilbo says you have need of me?"
"Yes," she said, unsure how to put it. "I need you to come to Dale with us."
"I take it, those horses were not just running loose as Bofur claimed."
She looked at Bofur. "That's the best you could come up with?"
Bofur shrugged. "Didn't have much to work with did I?"
"And the reason we are sneaking out of the mountain and the others have not been informed of the aid available in Dale?" pressed Balin.
"Um," she said. "Would you like the whole truth… or would you like to maintain your plausible deniability?"
Balin studied her for a long moment, stroking his beard. "I see. The less said the better then."
Bofur just shook his head as he led them toward the front gate.
Soon they were riding out the front gate and into the darkening evening towards Dale. She sat tucked behind Balin while Bilbo and Bofur shared the other horse. They galloped south over the desolate landscape as the moon sank behind a jutting arm of the mountain to the west.
"What is that?" she asked, pointing to an irregular shape atop the outcrop the moon was sinking behind.
"Ravenhill," shouted Balin over his shoulder. "An old watch tower. The ravens once took refuge there but not since Smaug. There was once talk of connecting it by tunnel to Erebor, but to my knowledge, nothing came of it."
The moon soon sank out of sight and in its place dark clouds roiled up out of the south, engulfing Dale and moving toward them like an ominous veil, promising a downpour. Balin and Bofur pushed the horses, trying to race the deluge but it was no use. A chill wind whipped up and she leaned into Balin's back trying to keep the gritty dust out of her eyes. The rain hit them hard, driving down on them, as if trying to wash them away before they could reach their destination.
"Nearly there," cried Bofur, pointing out the specks of light ahead of them in the gloom.
The horses slowed to a walk as they neared the entrance to the city, or what remained of it. A dark crumbling wall encircled the city, but where a gate must once have been, emptiness greeted them like a gap-toothed grin. The rubble of destruction lay buried in the sand of neglect, and time. Pillars lay heaped and broken like so many matchsticks. Hooded braziers burned on either side of the opening and as they pulled to a stop a figure stepped from the shadows, crossbow at the ready.
"Who goes there?" called the guard, one of the men from lake town.
"My name is Sara Miller," she called over the pouring rain, leaning out from behind Balin. "These are Balin, Bofur, and Bilbo. We must speak to Fili, prince of the dwarves and the other gathered leaders."
The man's face scrunched into a scowl as he opened his mouth to retort but he was cut off.
"I will see to them," called a voice. A figure appeared from the gloom. A hood was pulled back and Airidan grinned at them. "Welcome friends," he called. He laid a hand on the guard's shoulder. "They are expected."
The man grunted noncommittally but took the leads of the horses as they dismounted. Sara walked to the brazier and stood trying to soak in some of its heat as the dwarves briefly spoke to the guard.
"Here," said Airdan, laying a thick garment over her shoulders. Warmth washed over her. "You're wetter than a fish and I dare say near as cold." It was his cloak. Praise elvish clothing. He pulled the hood over her head.
"Thank… thank you," she stuttered, trying to suppress a shiver.
"Well, are ya here to lead us to the others?" asked Bofur, clapping a hand on Airdan's lower arm.
"Indeed," said Airidan, smiling before turning to lead them into the darkened streets.
"So where is everyone?" asked Bofur.
"Most are seeking relief from the storm underground," said the elf.
"And where is it you are taking us?" asked Bilbo, shivering.
"The old fortress," replied Airidan. "The leaders are all met there. Arguing quite a bit when I left."
"I suppose you heard about what happened at the gates of Erebor earlier today," probed Bilbo.
Airidan nodded solemnly.
"How fares Prince Legolas?" asked Bilbo hesitantly.
"He is near fully recovered," said Airidan, waving a hand.
"But… but he had an arrow in his shoulder," stuttered Bilbo.
"He what now?" shot Balin, watching them closely.
"Shot through the shoulder with an arrow," said Airidan, glancing at Balin. "By your king no less. But fear not, we brought all our best healers with us and to heal such a wound is simple tedious work for them."
"Well, that's a relief," grumbled Bofur.
"Though King Thranduil is still quite upset about it," added the elf as he led them left up a side street filled with covered wagons and carts, several dozens of them. The carts had all seen better days and some even had enormous gashes in the sides. She shuddered to think what had caused them. No doubt large, hairy, and many legged somethings.
"Is this the anticipated aid for the townspeople?" asked Balin, eyeing the supplies as they passed.
"It is," affirmed the elf. "Most arrived late this afternoon."
"Airidan," said Sara, a thought striking her. "Where is my father? Bard? I would have thought he would have come to the mountain earlier today with the others."
Airidan gave her a pained look and an odd sensation began to form in her chest.
"Airidan?" she pressed.
The elf stopped and turned to meet her gaze. The look therein gave her an answer before his lips ever could. "Sara, he's missing."
She sucked in a breath.
"Him and dozens of others in the final push before we broke away from the spiders of the forest."
"How long?" she asked, her voice hollow, her mind buzzing.
"Three days ago," said Airidan.
"No one… no one actually saw…" but she trailed off, unable to finish that thought.
The elf shook his head. "No, but…. but I would not expect much. The spiders all but overran us before Dain and his army arrived. There were casualties."
"How many?" asked Bilbo solemnly.
"An estimated forty five are missing. Another twenty two are confirmed dead."
She swallowed thickly, not wanting to cry. She knew how those numbers worked and it made her sick at heart.
"But come, your heart brothers are most anxious for your arrival and would have been the ones to greet you had I not insisted. They were needed in the council room."
Before she could properly gather her thoughts they were following Airidan inside what little remained of the ancient fortress of Dale. The roof had long since collapsed along with one of the walls. They splashed after Airidan who led them up a side hall and down a flight of steps out of the rain. He paused in front of a door.
"They are gathered here," he said, pushing open the door for them. A cacophony hit her ears, a mixture of tongues and tones, most angry or anxious. The underground room was about the size and height of a movie theater. Dirt and debris carpeted the floor but at the center of the room several assorted figures were gathered around a large stone table: King Thranduil in a high back chair with Legolas at his side, Fili and Kili speaking to Dain, and to her surprise Talson and another man from lake town. Other people were gathered in huddles at the edges of the room including Talson's very heavily pregnant wife.
As she and the others approached the table the others looked up and fell silent. The tension around Fili's eyes and shoulders visibly lifted as he and Kili came around the table to meet her
"Sara," he said, drawing her into his arms. "Thank Mahal, you are here safely."
"Did uncle give you any trouble?" asked Kili when it was his turn to hug her.
"I'm fine," she reassured, pulling the hood of Airidan's cloak off and down around her neck to hide the bruising.
"Yes, yes," called Thranduil, dismissively. "As pleased as I am that you are no longer under the sway of a mad king Ms. Sara, we have business to attend to."
"I know," she said, stepping away from Kili. "And, I need you all to listen to me."
"And what might you have to add that would be helpful?" asked Thranduil, an eyebrow rising.
"I'm about to announce a new king of the dwarves," she said evenly, not taking her gaze off the elf.
Fili grabbed her shoulder and spun her to face him. He was pale. "Sara, has uncle… he's not… you didn't…?"
"No," she said, laying a gentle hand on his arm. "He's safe and well, or as well as can be expected in his state."
"Lass, ya can't just announce a new king of the dwarves," said Bofur, coming up on her other side. "There is a certain way things are done.
"Normally yes," she said. "I know. But Thorin made preparations he never told you or anyone else about."
"Preparations?" asked Balin. "What kind of preparations?"
She pulled the two letters from her shirt front. They were soaked through. She handed the thicker one to Balin. He carefully opened it and began to read.
"What many of you may not know is that Thorin was made aware of the possibility of him going mad several months ago. That fear pushed him to come up with a solution preemptively."
"There's no cure for dragon sickness," said Thranduil. "Nor is there any certain knowledge of its cause."
"No," she admitted. "None that we know of. And Thorin knew that. But we don't need one. What we need is a new king of the dwarves. And if Thorin was not mistaken that is exactly what he has made possible." She pointed to the parchment Balin was pouring over.
"Explain," said Thranduil, dubiously. And so she did, quickly explaining the promise she had made to Thorin and the contents of the two letters he had left to her.
"Is such a proposal binding?" asked Legolas, looking to Balin as she finished.
Balin frowned. "While unconventional, I believe it is. It appears to be a slight variation of a practice already in use. But yes, I believe it would be binding. Thorin has made it quite clear that in the event of his mental incapacitation that he abdicates the throne to Prince Fili."
"You are forgetting the still mad Thorin inside the mountain," said Thranduil. "In his current state he is not likely to acknowledge young Fili as king. He's bound to resist us entering the mountain. Not only could he collapse the entrance to the mountain and cause all inside to starve, but it could cause a schism among the dwarves, one we can't afford at the moment."
"Thorin will not oppose us," said Sara. "He can't."
"How are you sure of that?" pressed Thranduil.
Reluctantly she answered. "Because Thorin is currently locked in the dungeon of Erebor under guard."
There was a long pregnant silence.
"At your hand?" asked Dain, eyeing her with distrust. It reminded her of Thorin's face as he had throttled her through the bars of the cell.
She nodded, not quite able to find her voice.
"And what of the rest of the company of dwarves currently residing in the mountain?" asked Legolas. "They will no doubt not take kindly to us arriving at the gate when Thorin has previously sealed the mountain."
"They don't know about that," piped up Bilbo. "We didn't tell them. As far as they know, Thorin is once again missing as he searches to find the arkenstone and they are simply waiting for aid from the elves."
"I dislike it," said Thranduil. "Wars have been born out of lesser misunderstandings."
"If Bofur and I return before you and explain it all to the others, would that satisfy you?" asked Balin.
"Indeed," said the elf king. "Very well then, what is required to make this possibility, reality?"
"Surprisingly little," said Balin, spreading the parchment out over the table. "Thorin already signed it. Now all that remains is Fili's signature and blood seal and the same from at least five witnesses."
All eyes turned to Fili who had remained quiet throughout.
"Fili, what say you?" asked Legolas.
Fili hesitated. "I knew that I would someday be king, but I never imagined it would be under such circumstances, or so soon."
"The heavy mantle of responsibility is often unexpected, and even unwelcome, but such it has always been," said Thranduil. "Will you shoulder the burden of your people? They need a competent leader in such dark and uncertain times. I, for one, feel you will prove most adept."
Fili's eyes flicked around the faces watching him, finally landing on Sara. He blew out a deep breath and straightened. "I will. It was the will of my uncle and it is my duty."
"Very well said," said Thranduil with a nod.
Balin pulled an inkwell and quill toward him. "If you are favorable, I believe Kili and I should be two of your witnesses."
"I would welcome that," said Fili, reaching for the quill.
"I will also witness," said Dain, stepping forward as Fili began to write.
Fili nodded as he looked up and handed the quill to Balin. "Need all the witnesses be dwarven?" He pricked his thumb and pressed it below his signature.
Balin looked up at him, surprised at first, and then thoughtful. "I do not believe there is a law saying such. Whom do you wish?"
"If it would please them, I would ask for three others," said Fili. "Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, Sara Miller of Earth, and if he will agree, Prince Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood."
Dain froze, the quill in his hand hovering over the parchment. "A hobbit, a human, and an elf?" said Dain, his brows drawn dangerously close together. "It would be…"
"Unusual and even unprecedented, I know," said Fili, raising a hand. "But it seems nothing about this situation is orthodox. Without the aid of each of these individuals I would not have made it to this point alive."
"But… it's never been done!"
"There is no law against it."
"There's no law because it was never expected there would need to be!" argued Dain.
"Then, it seems I shall be setting several new precedents as king," said Fili, straightening, his arms folded over his chest. His voice was firm but with a distinct tiredness. "Will you witness Lord Dain? Or shall I find another?"
There was a long tense silence.
At last, Dain snorted and set quilt parchment. "If only to make certain that the dwarven witnesses are not less than those of non-dwarven."
Fili smiled grimly and made his way toward Sara as the others pressed to the table to sign.
"You know, I suck at using quills," she whispered as he drew her into a weary side hug. "My signature's going to look like crap."
He chuckled. "Serves you right for springing the whole dwarven kingdom on me without warning." His face grew serious. "Sara, I know these past weeks must have been trying and I know that in the past I've offered you a place as my heart sister but I would like to…"
"Sara, if you will," interrupted Balin, holding the quill out. She glanced at Fili and he nudged her forward encouragingly.
"We'll talk later tonight," he said with a small smile that didn't quite reach his blue eyes.
Hesitantly, she turned her attention to the parchment. She lifted the quill and paused, biting her lip. This was a legal document. Should she sign her Earth legal name or should she sign her middle-earth given name? Did she even have a last name in Middle Earth? And the name Segin was so foreign to her. Shaking her head she began signing her name. She was Sara Miller. She paused once again glancing at the other names on the parchment. Each of them had titles after the names. Should she add anything? Sara Miller of Earth? Sara Miller of Middle Earth? Sara Miller, daughter of Bard The Bowman? A pang of grief shot through her at the thought of her father, lost, possibly gone. Sara Miller, heart sister of Fili? But he wanted to talk to her about that later. What about? Could he have changed his mind? Was a king even allowed to have a heart sister? Was that why he looked so sad? He was going to tell her that it was over, that he could no longer support her.
"Ms. Sara," called Balin, bringing her out of her spiral. She looked up and saw the others watching her. "Are you all right?"
She swallowed thickly and hastily put the quill back in the ink pot. She drew the knife at her hip and pressed her fingertip to it and then to the parchment leaving behind a red fingerprint.
"I'm fine," she said, stepping back. "I'm just tired, and hungry. It's been a long few days."
"Very well," said Balin, glancing over the parchment before carefully folding it and tucking it neatly into his right breast pocket. He turned to Fili. "With your permission, my king, I will return to the mountain and inform the others of the company to expect you in the morning."
Fili nodded. "Thank you Balin. Go swiftly and safely."
"I'll go with him," said Bofur, getting to his feet and dusting off the seat of his pants.
"If all is now set," said Thranduil, reclined gracefully in his chair. "We should return to making plans for the morrow."
"Agreed," said Fili, approaching the table.
As the others gathered around a large table where a map was now spread, Sara slipped to the door following Bofur and Balin. She caught them at the top of the staircase as they prepared to brave the weather once again.
"Where are you going, lass," asked Bofur, tugging his hat further down on his head.
"I just… I wanted to walk with you back to the gate," she said.
"One would think you had enough of the rain."
"What I've really had enough of is being underground," she said. "And I'm not really excited to listen to all the arguing. I could use a walk to clear my head." She was anxious to get out from under the Earth, but tugging the hood of Airidan's cloak over her head, she had to admit that she was also not looking forward to finishing the conversation with Fili. Things were complicated, emotions and thoughts all tangled up like a mass of thorny vines shoved in her lungs making it hard to breathe. She wanted to be outside.
"I don't like to think of you walking back from the gate by yourself in the dark," said Balin.
She pulled out her elvin stone and lit it. "I won't be in the dark."
"And she won't be alone," said Bilbo, appearing at her elbow. "I'll see her back to the others. "All this talk of war is not for a hobbit. How I've missed the stars."
"Very well," said Balin with a chuckle.
They passed out into the night sky, still hung with heavy clouds intent on drowning them. She shoved her hands in her pocket trying to conserve heat and stay dyer under the cloak. Her fingers sifted through the random things in her pocket but paused when she felt the ring. She would give it to Fili when they talked later. She drew the elven cake from her pocket and bit into it. It was a small comfort but comfort none the less.
"Is that really all that is required for Fili to become king?" piped up Bilbo, at last breaking their hurried silence. "Only, it seems rather underwhelming."
"Needs must, Mr. Baggins," said Balin, ushering them forward down the dark street. "Rest assured, if we live to see peace again, there will be plenty of pomp and circumstance for all."
"And what about Thorin," she asked, her hand going to her neck. "What happens to him?"
"That decision rests with Fili now," said Bofur, stopping to snatch a sack from one of the supply wagons as they passed. "I can't believe you locked him in the dungeons. Still," he added, catching her pained look as he slung the pack over his shoulder, "It's probably for the best. Wonder how Dwalin will react?"
"Dwalin is the one guarding him," said Bilbo. "And lucky for Sara he arrived just in time."
"What do ya mean by that?" asked Bofur, his eyebrows raising.
"Thorin didn't take kindly to being locked up. He tried to strangle Sara through the bars."
"What?" asked Bofur and Balin in unison, their voices sharp.
"Sara, is that true?" asked Balin.
She blew out a shaky breath, trying to push the memory aside. She could only nod and pull the hood closer to her head. The streets were dark and quiet as they walked on.
"I suppose I ought not be surprised," said Bofur darkly. "Not after this afternoon."
"I suppose not," agreed Balin. "Not something that bears thinking about comfortably."
"No," she said, shaking her head. "It doesn't."
"Still," said Bilbo. "Things have turned out better than I could have imagined after this afternoon. I thought all was lost."
"Aye, that be true," said Bofur. "Won't be much for us to smooth to be honest. I imagine they'll be relieved with the way things have worked out. The townspeople may have been kept in the dark but the company has been whispering for weeks."
"True enough," agreed Balin. "I'm relieved that Thorin spared us repeating history again."
"I just hope all this is over soon," said Bilbo. "I'm beginning to very much miss my hobbit hole."
"Don't despair dear hobbit," said Bofur, clapping Bilbo stoutly on the shoulder. "The end is in sight, as is the gate. Look."
And indeed the gate was before them, the light from the braziers seeping through the gap in the wall. But the gap stood empty. Bofur jogged ahead of them and paused.
"Aye," he exclaimed.
"What?" asked Balin, catching Sara's arm and bringing her to a halt.
"I knew that guard was a lazy good for nothing sod. There's no one here. Just the horses," he said, disappearing behind the wall to calm the animals who were snorting and stamping on the ground. "What's gotten into ya now my beauties?"
They followed Bofur outside the wall to find the horses restlessly pulling at the reins which were tied to a post driven into the ground.
"Where would the guard have gone?" asked Bilbo. "He seemed unfriendly, but not inattentive."
"This is an ill omen," said Balin. "It is unnaturally quiet."
Bofur paused his efforts to still the animals, frowning. "Perhaps ya are right. I don't like it. We should return and tell the others."
"Bilbo and I will," said Sara.
"Na, lass," said Balin, drawing the dwarven sword at his hip. "I won't have the two of you return alone. It doesn't sit well with me."
"Agreed," said Bofur. "I would sooner see you…"
But Sara didn't hear what else he meant to say, for Bofur suddenly sprang forward and shoved Bilbo backwards to the ground.
"What the heck, Bofur," she yelled, rushing to Bilbo's side. She glared up at him… and her heart stalled. The hilt of a dagger protruded from Bofur's belly.
"Bofur," cried Bilbo, springing to his feet. He made it only just in time to slow Bofur's fall forward. "Bofur, no! No!" called Bilbo, frantically trying to apply pressure to the wound.
"Sara," warned Balin, jerking her from her horrified stupor as he took her arm and pulled her back to her feet. "Orcs!"
The shadows around them began to writhe and shift as the malformed creatures slunk forward brandishing their weapons. They dropped from the wall and oozed from the shadows. How had they missed so many?
"Stay close," hissed Balin as they backed away from the gate where the orcs were gathered. They were cut off from the city, pushed out into the open.
"Bofur don't!" warned Bilbo as Bofur pushed unsteadily to his feet. "You shouldn't move."
"This is nothing," said Bofur grimly as he staggered and caught himself on the bridle of the horse beside him. "You may want to draw that little dagger of yers," he said nodding to Bilbo, clutching his stomach, the bloody dagger now in his hand.
"You're going to bleed out," hissed the hobbit.
"Not any faster than I would if I lay on the ground waiting to be stabbed again. Now steal yourself lad."
The orcs drew closer, some fainting forward to strike at Balin who met their blows and pushed them back again.
Why didn't the orcs simply rush them? They were more than out numbered. A voice boomed from behind the orcs and the horde before them split. A tall broad fixture stepped forward. The pale face was scarred with metal and war, its truncated nose carved above the missing upper lip. Bolg stomped forward, his pointed yellow teeth revealed in a sneer.
Bofur burst into a string of expletives, but Sara's mind could only freeze, blank and stupefied. Not Bolg! Not again! Her fingers curled around the hilt of Fili's knife, a pitiful defense. In her other hand she held the elvish light stone. Perhaps… Perhaps it could work. Bilbo and Bofur were still by the horses and Balin between her and the orcs.
"Kill the dwarves and the little one," said Bolg, in his guttural growl. "But leave the woman unharmed. She goes to the dark one."
"Sara, you must leave," Balin instructed over his shoulder. "Take a horse and go."
"No," she hissed. "Im not leaving you here to be slaughtered."
"Lass, don't argue. You need…"
"No, listen," she insisted. "On my mark, cover your eyes. Bofur, Bilbo, cover the horse's eyes as well."
"What are you…" asked Bofur, glancing at her with a grimace.
"Just do it!" she yelled, lifting the elvin light to her lips. She repeated the elven words Airidan had taught her and then threw the stone over Balin's shoulder to smash on the cobblestone road. "Now!"
The world went white and she staggered back, her arm thrown over her closed eyes. Airidan had said it would be a bright flash, he hadn't said the elves had found a way to bottle lightning. She could hear the screams of the orcs as they fell back, scampering for the shadows they so loved. She blinked her eyes open and was pleased that her suspicions had been correct. The elvish horses had not reacted to the light.
"Lass, over here," called Balin, his hands finding her shoulders. "Ride with Bilbo. I'll see to Bofur." There were spots in her vision but it was coming back quickly.
She took Bilbo's small outstretched hand and swung up on the horse in front of him. Bolg roared in anger and frustration, one of the few who hadn't fallen back. He swung his mace about him with blind but wild determination, advancing towards them. He bellowed in orc speech and the others began to reemerge blinking and staggering.
Balin was struggling to help Bofur who was doubled over and pale onto the horse. Bofur's side dripped red. Bolg advanced, one of his searching swings connecting with Balin's shoulder as he finally managed to push Bofur into the saddle. Balin staggered back, clutching at his right arm which dangled limp.
"Balin," she cried.
"Flee Sara," grunted Balin, dodging away from Bolg and raising his sword to block another blow.
Sara twisted in the saddle and snatched Bilbo's glowing sword from his hand before kicking the horse forward. She only hoped Bolg was still as blind as he seemed. The horse surged forward charging Bolg who had his back to them, busy advancing on Balin. She leaned out with Bilbo's sword outstretched to strike but Bolg must have heard them coming for he spun at the last second and swung out low to cripple the horse. But the attack was just a moment too late. The horse reared, Bolg's mace missing its legs, and struck out with its hooves, pummeling the orc in the face and chest. Sara and Bilbo hung on for dear life as Bolg cried out and crumpled backward. Balin took the opportunity to run up the remains of a fallen column and leap onto the horse behind Bofur. In moments the four of them were galloping out over the open ground, leaving the orcs behind them.
"How did they approach the city without being spotted?" asked Bilbo.
"I don't know lad," shouted Balin over his shoulder as he struggled to keep Bofur upright with his good arm. "We need to make the eastern gate of the city. We must warn the others and Bofur won't make it back to the mountain in this state."
"Lead the way," called Sara. Balin urged his horse forward and they followed after.
Sara turned to look behind them for what must have been the tenth time. The storm still beat down on them, rain filling her boots but the dark revealed no pursuers seeping out of the darkness behind them.
"Sara, you're going to knock me out of the saddle," complained Bilbo. "Turn around. What's wrong?"
She turned around, still unable to shake the creeping unease. "I… it just… it feels like we've got away too easily." Above them the sky roiled and churned but despite the wind and rain was utterly devoid of lightning.
"Let's hope they haven't attacked the other gates," said Bilbo. "I really can't…"
There was no warning, just a sudden oppressive weight and Sara and Bilbo were knocked to the ground. Their horse shrieked in fear before his cry was cut off with a guttural squelch. She scrambled to her hands and knees and froze. An enormous winged creature hunched over the now still horse. Beside her, Bilbo drew his sword and the blade shown blue illuminating the grotesque pug-like features of the beast before them. The leathery wings drew back to reveal a wrinkled face with elongated fangs. It must have had a 20-foot wingspan at least.
"Is that…"
"A bat," whispered Bilbo beside her.
"Sara! Bilbo!" screamed Balin, drawing his horse to a halt.
There was a dark blur of motion off to his left and another bat slammed into Balin and Bofur knocking them to the ground. Their horse screamed and ran but was overtaken by yet another bat which dropped on it in a black rush. The horse fell silent. More of the creatures descended, dropping from the sky like gothic bloodthirsty parashooters. Sara and Bilbo rushed to where Balin was standing over Bofur but as the three of them turned to fend off the bats, Balin let out a loud low curse.
Through the driving rain another, much larger, winged creature could be seen. On its back sat Bolg. Before his mount could even land, Bolg jumped, plummeting to the ground. He was on them in seconds, swinging his mace with a vengeful ferver. He sent both Bilbo and Balin to the ground with a single blow. Bilbo lay still, out cold.
Sara dodged to the left but was jerked back by the cloak on her back. Before she could scramble free a thick hand had snaked out to grip her throat and lift her off the ground. She kicked and struggled, her memory playing tricks with her as Thorin's face faded in and out before her. She raised Fili's dagger to stab him but Bolg plucked the dagger from her grip. Silver flashed in front of her eyes and she fell to the ground though the grip around her throat did not immediately vanish.
Bolg staggered back with a roar of agony, his arm a bloody stump. Something thick and fleshy fell into Sara's lap and with a sickening horror she knew exactly what it was. Emboldened, Balin rushed forward to finish the orc, but Bolg suddenly twisted and Balin went rigid, his sword dropping from his hand. With a snarl, Bolg kicked Balin in the stomach, sending the old dwarf to the ground. Bolg held Fili's bloody knife in his remaining hand.
"Balin!" she screamed, her voice little more than a croak. She crawled forward to roll him over. He clutched at his chest above his right breast. Red bubbled and seeped up around his callous fingers. "Balin," she cried, her voice thick with tears, watching as his face grew pale. "No! No! No! You're fine. You're fine! You'll be okay!"
His soft eyes locked with hers and his warm wet hand found hers in a tight grip. "Sara," he said, wincing as a wave of pain crashed over him. "Run, lass!"
"No! Don't go!" she screamed, heedless of the crunch of boots behind her. A sudden pain seared through her head and as her world went black, the last thing she saw was Balin's blank eyes.
And there is chapter 67. Been a long time but I hope you like it. I would be interested to know how you feel about this chapter. Forgive me if there are more mistakes than usual, my spelling and grammar checker was malfunctioning with this new computer. I hope you are all still out there and that you have found wonderful stories while I have been away. Thank you for always returning to read, reread, and thank you to all those who comment and interact with me and my stories. You are awesome readers! Let me know what you thought of this chapter's developments. Maybe 10 chapters left or so of this story and it will be done… at least this version of it. I do have vague ideas for a sequel but we'll just have to see what happens. In the meantime, be kind to others, be safe, and happy reading. For those on webnovel it made me split the chapter in two. Sorry.