Price of Battle ➝ The Hobbit ✓

Part Twenty

PART TWENTY ~

Fili glanced at his two friends, uncertainty and confusion clouding his eyes. "What do you mean, looking for me?" He asked, amusement edged in his tone. His gaze flickered from dwarf to human, and Arien shrugged indifferently, Thoros carrying the same untroubled expression. "I know I left without saying a word, and I want to apologize sincerely for my actions, though they could not be helped. I swear on Durin, I had no idea what-"

"It's fine. Seriously. We have more important matters to take care of now. We shall discuss this later," Arien cut him off with a small smile. He nodded vigorously.

"Aye. We ought to get back to the others."

"Wait, sir," A voice sounded from the group of warriors, causing Fili to turn his head and search for the dwarf to whom the voice belonged. "Erm. Excuse my interuption, sir, but what about the orcs? And the other soldiers?"

Bewilderment flared in Fili's dim gaze and he let out a short sigh. "Of course! How could I have forgotten! I am terribly sorry," He apologized to his band of dwarves and quickly turned to Arien and Thoros, who were peering at him expectantly. "We came out here as a pack of wandering orcs had been sighted. I sent about two dozen soldiers to sort them out, but they have not returned."

Arien nodded respectively. "Of course. We shall find and aid these respectable warriors immediately." Fili glanced at her with a raised eyebrow, suddenly admiring her change of tone. "Which way were they headed?"

"South. Now come, brave warriors. Let us march and announce our arrival with much ardour!" The dwarven prince received a chorus of grunts and cheers in reply and they all began trudging through the dense thickets, clasping the hilts of their weapons with clammy hands, waiting to see what fate had befallen their comrades.

Fili lead the way, with Arien and Thoros following swiftly behind, and the rest of the soldiers walking in pairs or solo, neither speaking a word to each other as a subdued silence settled on the forest, only broken occasionally by a bout of coughing that erupted suddenly from one of the dwarves. They walked on uncomfortably for some time, before they spotted the first signs of battle through their ears. Somewhere in the distance there came the faint clang! as metal met metal with the force of a great typhoon.

Arien searched alarmingly through the trees, hoping to catch sight of the waging battle. There came another heavy clang! and a grunt of pain as inaudible curses were muttered. Every sound became clearer and more comprehensible as the company moved deeper into the trees. The band crept forward slowly, and Fili suddenly held out a hand to halt the eager troop as the battle scene was laid out before their eyes.

Arien let out an involuntary gasp for the scene before them was horrific; nearly all the dwarven warriors were dead, with their body slashed and cut with grotesque wounds, blood pooling beneath the ruined bodies. She felt a sudden wave of nausea wash over her and had to stagger back and stop herself from retching. These orcs had done a horrific job of dispatching the soldiers to the darkness. There were only nine of the remaining band, against at least two dozen of the vile beasts. They had to turn the tide, quickly.

Doubled-over, the dwarves - and human - crept slowly through the shrubbery, drawing their weapons with subtle movements as they moved towards the battle. Much to the orcs' surprise, the soldiers suddenly leaped out of the trees and began hacking at their leathery skin with blows so fierce that the orcs staggered back in confusion and pain. The beasts howled in agony as the soldiers avenged their fallen comrades.

Arien drew her dwarfish sword from its sheath, admiring the skilfully etched patterns that ran the length of the blade, and hastily thrust it into the nearest Orc she could see. The blade sliced through its neck, and it spluttered sparks of blood before collapsing to the ground with a wet shriek. She dragged the sword from its body and arced it towards another of the mangled creatures, letting it penetrate the resilient armour and sink deep into the Orc's coriaceous flesh.

Fili and Thoros worked back-to-back, leaping forward, slicing through an orcs neck, springing back, forward, slice, back, forward... They quickly dispatched the blood-thirsty orcs into the darkness, and soon the leaves were splattered with dark blood from both sides. Corpses riddled with grotesque wounds and congealed blood were dotted amongst the underbrush in untidy heaps.

Arien worked solo, slicing and hacking her blade into every living monster she could see; her work was fierce, deadly. Her eyes were blazing, adrenaline coursing through her body, her senses heightening after each kill. She was wild, aggressive, berserk. A perfect warrior.

Striking down yet another beast, she noticed the panicked breaths of an injured soldier, about to get struck down by a merciless blade, and leaped to his aid with three sturdy bounds. She thrust the sword forward, into the orcs chest, before it could gain the liberty to kill, and back out again, before swinging it through its neck. The head thumped to the ground with a fountain of blood, and the body followed soon after. The dwarf nodded gratefully at the young warrior, before getting dragged away by his comrade.

Arien nodded, somewhat fatigued as the thrill of battle was drained away. Only two orcs were left, but they were soon finished off by the very few scragglers who had survived the ordeal. It was a poor sight; to see so many of their own soldiers being hacked to death and scattered amongst the bodies of the beasts they detested so much.

"Look for any survivors. Then let's head back."