The Farm Girl

Fourteen

Bilbo's shrewd hobbit eyes peek over the edge of the rock formation to gaze into the misted morning.

He watches from his vantage point as the orc pack scours the hills, hard on the company's trail. He spots Azog, his white bulky standing out as a smear against the darkly clouded sky. The wargs are scrambling over the rocky hills, sniffing at trails. The wide expanse of rock has been helping the company stay concealed, scent not transferring to rock as well as to underbrush or earth.

Azog turns to look, his pale, awful eyes flashing and Bilbo ducks, his heart pounding an erratic timpani in his chest. He waits for long breaths, counting long moments out, longer than he wants to before he looks back up. Azog turns away as he does, and Bilbo wrinkles his nose in thought.

There is a great growling sound that prickles the fine hairs at the base of Bilbo's neck.

He turns his head and sees something massive and dark atop a rise of rock, looking down at the orcs. A prey animal chill slides down his spine at the sight of the massive creature. He has battled goblins and wargs, traded riddles in the dark and survived a thunder battle but he has never seen an earth-bound creature so massive. Its dark bulk is even larger than the wounded white warg Azog rides, with a snout full of yellowed teeth. At this distance, Bilbo cannot pick out specific features, but he knows the general shape of the creature that growls menacingly down at the orc pack.

The sentinel on the rock has the form of a massive black bear, all hard-packed muscle and shaggy fur.

Sliding carefully down the grey-purple rocks, Bilbo steals silently away, running back down the herd paths in the mountain to the waiting company.

After descending the Carrock, the company filled their waterskins in the vale and climbed back into the rolling foothills of the MIsty Mountains, a smaller set of smooth rocky hills the color of decaying plums. They've been staying low to the ground, traveling carefully under the gloom of storm clouds, doing their best to disguise their trail. Their hope is to reach the edge of the great forest of Mirkwood as a way to deter the wargs from following, but green grasslands stand between the foothills and Mirkwood and on such an expanse of ground, they will easily be run down by the warg riders. Bilbo suspects Gandalf has a plan to find safety, but the wizard has been cagey at best about where they might take shelter.

Thorin sees him first as he returns to the company, fifteen sets of eyes coming up in readiness, hands on weapons in anticipation. "How close is the pack?" Thorin asks.

"Too close," Bilbo says breathlessly. "Couple of leagues, no more. But that's not the worst of it."

"Have the orcs picked up our scent?" Dwalin asks gruffly.

"Not yet," Bilbo huffs. Belireis wordlessly hands him a waterskin. "But they will do. We have another problem."

He sees Bel sharpen but the rest of the company is still focused on the orcs. "Did they see you?" Gandalf demands. "They saw you?"

"No," Bilbo says, trying to get his point across. "That's not it."

Gandalf chuckles. "Good, what did I tell you?" he asks the company. "Quiet as a mouse, excellent burglar material." The dwarves nod in agreement, murmuring amongst themselves. Belireis sees Bilbo's irritation but is distracted, her eyes scanning the surroundings. Bilbo marks her worried look but needs to warn the dwarves first before he ponders what she is looking for, almost as if she is trying to match up the landscape to an image in her head...

"Will you listen?" Bilbo hisses loudly, an uncommon bite in his voice. The dwarves and Gandalf hush at his unexpected tone. "I'm trying to tell you there is something else out there." His words are forceful and distraught.