Demons

Chapter 8

Thorin

"THORIN!" 

Fear flared inside me as the panicked shout reached my ears! I whirled around, just in time to see one of the brutes swinging his grubby fist at me. Diving to the floor, I landed on my knees, embedding my sword in the troll's foot. A howl of pain sounded above me and grinned with malice as I listened to the wretched creature scream! Just as I was about to push myself up and rejoin the fight, I felt the pressure of someone's foot on my back, but only briefly. The weight vanished as quickly as it had appeared and I turned to see Megura soaring towards the troll that had attacked me. Her swords sliced the beast's flesh and, once again, it unleashed a wail of agony!

It was then that I realised who had shouted to me; it was Meg. She had been lurking in the bushes surrounding the clearing, awaiting the perfect time to strike. Apparently, that happened to be when I was in danger...

We continued to fight, hacking, slashing and hammering at the trolls' legs. Many of us had near misses as the trolls stumbled around in blind pain, but we fought on, regardless.

Suddenly, the troll closest to me lunged to the side, his large hand outstreched. When he withdrew it, a squirming hobbit was clutched in his palm. Damn... Our fighting ceased as we all stared up at the strugling burglar.

"Bilbo!" Kili lunged forwards in a desperate attempt to help, but stopped as my arm blocked his way.

"No." I growled. I would not let my nephew risk is his life for the hobbit. Kili glared at me, but didn't argue.

A voice brought our attention back to the trolls, "Lay down your arms, or we'll rip his off!" Glowering with frustration at Bilbo, I planted my sword in the ground. A few shocked murmurs rose from the group around me, but they all followed suit and threw their weapons to the ground.

***

The brown sack irritated my skin and I writhed to try and relieve the itching, but it proved to be useless. Once we were unarmed, the trolls had punced, confining the majority of my company in sacks and securing some on a spit over a thriving fire! The hobbit was sprawled a number of paces away from me, fortunately. My anger burnt in my stomach and, given the chance, I would lash out at the halfling. 

"Is this really necessary?" called Dori, thrashing against his bonds.

The trolls gave a dark chuckle as they stoked the fire and turned the spit tantalisingly slowly... 

More shouts of protest sounded from Oin and Gloin, "Untie us, you monsters!"

Ignoring them, the trolls resumed discussing how best to cook us! "Never mind the seasoning; we ain't got all night! Dawn ain't far away, so let's get a move on. I don't fancy being turned to stone."

"Wait! You're making a terrible mistake!" Bilbo's squeaky voice sounded. A low growl rose in my throat; what made him think he could discourage the trolls? I was about to voice this thought when a sharp elbow prodded my ribs. Scowling, I turned to see Meg, my expression mirrored on her delicate face. I geld my tongue.

"You can't reason with them, they're half-wits!" exclaimed Dori, apparently having the same thought as me.

"Half-wits? What does that make us?" called Bofur, his floppy hat dangling dangerously close to the flames.

"Uh, I meant with the, uh, with ,uh, the seasoning." continued Bilbo, visably swallowing his fear.

"What about the seasoning?" tthe trolls focussed all their attention on Bilbo, now.

The hobbit's response elicited angry protests from my kin, "Well, have you smelt them? You're going to need something a lot stronger than sage before you plate this lot up."

"What do you know about cooking dwarf?" questioned a troll, suspicion present in his voice.

"Shut up, and let the, uh, flurgaburburrahobbit talk!" repremanded his comrade.

"Uh, th-the secret to cooking dwarves is, um-"

"Yes? Come on."

"It's, uh-"

"Tell us the secret."

"Ye-yes, I'm telling you, the secret is... to skin them first."

Cursing and yells of fury erupted all around me. The hobbit cringed away from the racket but stood his ground.

"Tom, get me filleting knife."

Tom, who was watching Bilbo with beady eyes, didn't move, "What a load of rubbish! I've eaten plenty with their skins on. Scuff them, I say, boots and all."

For a moment, the halfling appears distracted. His eyes are focussed on the trees behind the brutes and they dart from one oak to another. I try to follow his gaze, but the smoke from the fire makes my eyes sting.

"'e's right!" said the third troll, drawing back Bilbo's attention, "Nothing wrong wih a bit of raw dwarf! Nice and crunchy."

It's grubby hand plunges into our midst and Bombur is the unfortunate dwarf to become trapped in the fat fist. The troll lifts him up, dangling him over his open mouth, about to eat him whole, when Bilbo speaks up,"Not-not that one, he-he's infected!"

Confusion clouds the eyes of the beasts, "You what?"

"Yeah, he's got worms in his... tubes." Disgusted, the troll drops Bombur back into the pile, "In-in fact they all have, they're in-infested with parasites. It's a terrible business; I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't."

Clearly offended, a few of my company protested again, "Parasites, did he say parasites?"

"We don't have parasties! You have parasites!" argued my youngest nephew.

"What are you talking about, laddie?"

From where I lay, I could see the majority of Master Bilbo's face. As the rest of dwarves chime in about how they don't have parasites, I notice his eyes roll. And, finally, I understand... I kick out as best I can, silencing my companions. Baffled glances are thrown my way but, once they see my face, they seem to realise what's going on. Immediately, they begin to proclaim that they're are riddled with parasites!

"I've got parasites as big as my arm."

"Mine are the biggest parasites, I've got huge parasites!"

"We're riddled."

"Yes, I'm riddled."

Slightly dazed by the mass of voices, Tom suddenly snapped, "What would you have us do, then, let 'em all go?"

Caught off guard, Bilbo hesitated, "Well..."

"You think I don't know what you're up to?" roared Tom, "This little ferret is taking us for fools!"

"Ferret?" repeated Bilbo, indignant.

"Fools?" repeated the dimmest of the trolls.

A shadow is casted over the clearing, from the rock over our heads, "The dawn will take you all!" booms a voice.

The trolls were baffled, "Who's that?"

"No idea."

"Can we eat 'im, too?"

An almighty crack sounds as the wizard strikes the rock with his staff, splitting is and allowing the sunlight to streak through the gap. The beams of light fell upon the mountain trolls and they began to turn to stone! My company cheer with gratitude, although the dwarves on the spit still look extremely uncomfortable. "Oh, get your foot out of my back!" demanded Dwalin. I couldn't help but crack a smile, relief washing over me.