On the footsteps of the Crows

The Ballad of the Shield

Despite everything; among almost constant songs and silent mixed crossings of ignoring Ezyel, one thing that could also be admitted was that often they had to climb along the backs of the mountains, and they had to stop in some natural cave, if they were lucky, or crevices close to oblivion with only a single fire hidden from prying eyes, even if when Ezyel found out, she wasn't exactly in agreement.

<Have you eaten too many rocks and one went to your brain?> she asked rhetorically to Thorin with a clear sense of annoyance as much as the other at his rude response, despite days of silence, the first thing she heard was not at all nice. <Two fires attract too much attention> she explained between grunts. <Well...> Ezyel replied as she unrolled her makeshift blanket. <I don't know if you've noticed, but the night is not exactly warm lately, and since you'll keep me away from the fire, I have no intention of getting sick.>

She must have guessed her sleeping location because it took Thorin a few moments too long to respond, equally rudely <So you prefer an orc raid?> he asked rhetorically, while Ezyel stopped everything she was doing and even Bilbo leaned a little towards them with a worried tone. <Orcs? A-Are there orcs?> he asked, agitated as much as Ezyel: two lion-hearted people.

<Of course, cut-throats, who attack in the small hours, leaving only death. No screams, just blood> Kili muttered with an increasingly dark and terrifying tone, as he actually managed to instil fear in the young recruits, but Thorin was not at all happy about that.

<Do you find an orc raid amusing?> he asked with an even darker tone as he approached the others, giving a reproachful look to his two young nephews. <You know nothing> grumbled Thorin as Ezyel twisted her lips from her corner, in a slight grimace, while Kili and Fili became depressed before Balin's arrival.

<Don't mind them, guys. Thorin is more right than the others to hate orcs> he admitted, shaking his head slightly as the King moved away from the group and watched the valley between the plants with a distant gaze.

<After the dragon conquered the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient kingdom of Moria, but our enemy had arrived first> he said, making a dramatic pause. The tone darkened as Ezyel and some other dwarves and hobbits turned to listen to the old dwarf with their whole bodies to watch the narrator.

<Moria had been taken by legions of orcs led by the vilest of them all: Azog the Defiler. A giant Gundabad orc with white skin had sworn to exterminate the line of Durin... and he began by beheading the king> he admitted without the transport of a minstrel who had only heard those things. Balin's pain was so tangible that no one dared to speak.

<In the heat of battle, among axes and death, Threin, Thorin's father, became mad with pain, and we never heard of him again> he shrugged slightly <Dead or taken prisoner, we didn't know, but we were without a guide as we were chased by the defeated hordes and death was upon us> so the voice became slightly lighter, loosening the grip on the bushy eyebrows.

<It was then that I saw it>, turning my head just towards Thorin's back. <A young dwarf prince facing the pale orc, wielding his axe with a strength I had never seen before, facing that terrible enemy alone until he lost his weapon> revealed while Ezyel and Bilbo, who didn't know that story, held their breath.

<With his armour torn, he only held a branch of oak as a shield, and at the last moment, he seized a sword from a fallen comrade to parry a blow and then cut off the pale orc's wrist> Balin described with an admiring tone. <Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin was not so easily broken>, nodding convincingly. <Our troops rallied and drove back the orcs: our enemy had been defeated>, but the smile faded, and the sadness returned to my face. <But there were no feasts or songs, because our dead far outnumbered the living.>