Into the Fire: Book 2

16

The guards kept pushing, ignoring the cries and distasteful comments from the dwarves. I opted for keeping my mouth shut, not wanting to draw any attention to myself. They guards eventually pulled us to a stop outside the doors of a large building. A crowed had started to form by the time a greasy looking man poked his head out. The greasy man pulled his head back in only for the doors to open once again. This time, a pudgy redheaded man walked out, closely followed by the greasy man from before. The redheaded man was aggressively wrapping a thin looking cardigan around his body as he stopped at the top of the stairs.

"What is the meaning of this?" He asked, clearly annoyed.

"We caught 'em stealing weapons, sire," Braga told him, gesturing with his head towards some weapons the guards had pulled off of us.

"Ah. Enemies of the state, then."

"This is a bunch of mercenaries if ever there was, sire," The greasy man chimed in.

The dwarves looked visibly annoyed by this comment and Dwalin man his way to the front, shrugging off the guards that tried to hold him back.

"Hold your tongue. You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal; this is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!" He told the crowed, his voice getting louder with every word.

He turned around to look at Thorin who took a few steps forward so he was standing in front of the rest of us, "We are the dwarves of Erebor. We have come to reclaim our homeland."

The crowed erupted into murmurs and I started to feel uneasy. That wasn't enough for them, he would have to do more. 

As if he could read my thoughts, Thorin continued, "I remember this town and the great days of old. Fleets of boats lay at harbour, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake! This was the centre of all trade in the North!" 

He had his fist raised in the air and the murmurs of the crowed had turned into excited whispers. He was on a role now, his excitement was up and so was his confidence, "I would see those days return. I would relight the great forges of the dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!"

"Death!" Bard's voice shouted from the back of the crowd. The group of us turned around and watched as he made his way to the front. He took his time to look out at the crowed before turned back to look at Thorin, "That is what you will bring upon us. Dragon-fire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all." 

The crowed had lost its enthusiasm and Thorin could feel it too. He took a breath, trying to keep his cool before stepping out from in front of Bard and looking towards the Master, "You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this; If we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain. You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!"

The crowed cheered and applauded in excitement. 

"Why should we take you at your word? We know nothing about you. Who here can vouch for your character?" The greasy man spoke up, standing beside the Master of the town.

The crowed fell silent once again and Thorin froze. I looked around me and finally locked eyes with Bilbo. He nodded and we both stepped forwards.

"Me. I'll vouch for him," He told the man.

"And I will too," I said, standing up straighter.

"I have traveled far with these dwarves through great danger and if Thorin Oakenshield gives his word then he will keep it," Bilbo continued.

I nodded in agreement, "They may look stubborn but I would lay my life down for them. And I know Thorin would do the same."

I finally looked at Thorin only to meet his gaze of admiration. He mouthed a thank you to both Bilbo and I and I smiled back at him. The crowed had erupted into cheers again and both the Master and the greasy man looked pleased with our answers. Bard, on the other hand, looked the opposite of pleased.