Over the roar of the river, an elvish horn sounded.
Thorin turned to look at the stone bridge that the barrels were swiftly approaching, and realized with horror that the elves standing upon it had spurred themselves into action. One elf cried something and the rest drew their swords and planted their feet firmly on the ground in response. The elf rushed up the stairs to a great lever and pushed it up. A mechanical clanking was heard.
The gates beneath the bridge were closing.
They were trapped.
"No!" roared Thorin. Bilbo watched as he threw himself at the gates in a futile effort to move them, but they would not budge. The barrels began piling up one after another, pinned behind the gate by the rushing water. Bilbo feared he would be crushed between the barrels.
Just then, one of the guards cried out and fell forward, an orcish arrow jutting from his back.
"Watch out!" cried Bofur sharply, as the elf's lifeless body toppled into the river, fortunately missing the barrels.
An orc loomed up over the gate and roared at the company.
And suddenly there was a whole horde of orcs swarming over the gate and battling the elvish guards. The elves were quickly overrun, and the orcs were upon the company. Chaos erupted.
One huge orc threw himself down onto Bofur's barrel, but overshot and flipped over, disappearing beneath the roiling waters.
Their leader snarled something in orcish.
Another orc leaped down and landed in the water next to Nori and Bilbo, and drew back to deliver a killing blow to the dwarf.
Still clinging to Nori's barrel with the frozen fingers of his left hand, Bilbo automatically drew Sting with his right, instinctively shoving the blade through the orc's neck before it could land the blow. Warm, black blood spattered over him and he gagged. The orc began to slump forward and he wrenched his sword free, just as Thorin had taught him. The body of the orc fell into the water beside him and was dragged down and away by the current.
Bilbo realized that unless they got out of there immediately, they would all be killed.
He had to get that gate open.
He clambered up onto the stone, slipping slightly on his wet feet, but regained his balance just in time to parry a vicious swing by another orc—how many of the confounded things were there? He rolled under the orc's legs and stood, and drove Sting up under the orc's armor. His arms were jarred as he guessed he hit bone. The orc squealed piteously and sank to its knees. He pulled Sting clear of the corpse and ducked clear of a too-high chop. His opponent off-balance, Bilbo shoved him and the orc's head collided with the stone bridge in a sickening crunch.
He dashed up the stairs, tripping another opponent. He heard a sound like a shovel in mud and glanced behind him to see an orc fall—Fili had seen the orc sneaking up on the halfling and hurled a sword at the brute, skewering him.
Bilbo danced back to dodge a swing by an orc who loomed over him from a high place on the top of the gate, then stepped in and swung as hard as he could at the orc's unprotected chest. The sword lodged itself deep in the orc's chest and the hobbit heaved it free.
He took a step toward the lever. Bilbo staggered and fell against the parapet, letting out an anguished scream as an orcish arrow buried itself between his ribs, then fell to the cold stone of the bridge.
"Bilbo!"cried Kili, aghast.
The hobbit dragged himself upright and took a tentative step toward the lever.
The pain of it was unbearable.
He had to open that gate.
Just a few more steps.
Was that his blood pooling on the ground?
He just had to get to the confounded lever.
Had to. For the company.
For Thorin.
Bilbo jumped forward and grabbed onto the lever, pulling it down with his full weight, but he could feel the head of the arrow in his side more keenly than ever and when he turned to jump back down into the water to rejoin his dwarves, the ground swayed and he lost his balance.
He was unconscious before he hit the water.