The Heart of the Mountain

Chapter 14

Thorin swept his gaze around the boat, pacing with an absent mind. He returned to the present when Balin cleared his throat, sounding nervous as the Dwarf King headed his way. "There's, um, just a problem: we're ten coins short." Thorin, ever observant, tipped his head to Gloin.

"Gloin. Come on. Give us what you have." The Dwarf scoffed as though offended.

"Don't look to me. I have been bled dry by this venture! And what have I seen for my investment? Naught but misery and grief and--" His words slowed when he realized the others were all standing and staring at something in the distance. He too stood up, seeing in the thinning fog none other than the Lonely Mountain. "Bless my beard," he whispered. Drawing out a small sack of coins, he just about shoved it into Balin's hands. "Take it. Take all of it."

Bilbo cleared his throat and pointed to Bard. The man was quickly striding towards the Dwarves and holding out his hands. "The money, quick, give it to me." Thorin frowned and kept the expression.

"We'll pay you when we get our provisions, but not before." Bard, unruffled by Thorin's gruff and hostile attitude, continued to explain.

"If you value your freedom, you'll do as I say. There are guards ahead." The Dwarves all turned, seeing not just the Lonely Mountain ahead, but also the rooftops of Laketown. A shiver of excitement ran through the Dwarves.

They were nearly there.

Without another word, Thorin swept the money from the table into his hand and offered it to Bard. "Now what?" Bard lifted his dark eyebrow. Bilbo tipped his head.

"I don't like that look he's giving us..."

...

Bard's barge halted at a dock outside the city, still holding the fifteen members of the company-- they were just inside barrels once again. Bard jumped off, running to speak to a man on the dock. "What's he doing?" Dwalin questioned suspiciously, trying to see through the barrel's cracks. Bilbo peered through his own barrel, which had a hole in its side.

"He's... talking to someone..." Bilbo's eyes grew wide and his heart beat faster when Bard pointed at the barge. "And he's pointing right at us!" Thorin grew anxious as well, praying inwardly to Mahal that his company would remain safe. "Now they're shaking hands." Thorin's fear turned to fury.

"What?!"

"That villain!" Dwalin growled. "He's selling us out!"

"Wait..." Everyone quieted down at the sound of Aurae, speaking for the first since the boat ride began. "Wait until we know what's going on." There was a pause.

"Fine," Thorin growled. "But if he's selling us out, there's nothing stopping me from wringing that lakeman's throat." He took the Fae's silence as confirmation. Remaining still and silent due to Aurae's suggestion and Thorin's hesitant agreement, the Dwarves waited and listened anxiously.

As it turned out, Aurae had been correct, though it could not have been in a more slimy way. Dead fish started to pour into the barrels, eventually covering each member of the company entirely. Everyone, Aurae included, groaned in surprise and disgust.

Bard at last pushed his barge on toward the gate, the fifteen barrels full of fish, Dwarves, a Hobbit and a Fae on board. "Mahal," grumbled Bofur inside his barrel. Bard kicked the barrel without hesitation and continued to steer through the water.

"Quiet! We're approaching the toll gate." Soon, the boat floated right up to the gate, upon which a wizened old man walked out.

"Halt!" he called out. "Goods inspection. Papers, please... oh, it's you, Bard." Bard paddled the boat up just a little more to the gatekeeper's office.