Chapter 10: Fire and Shadow both defied
Thunder rolled along the ravine like an angry battle drum, heavy rain showers were driven against them by the wind, and the flying rocks threatened to bury them with each and every step further. The ground was moving under them, the stone itself having come alive in the form of a stone giant, half their group left behind when the gigantic creature rose. Boromir steadied himself with one arm against the rock; his other hand grabbed Bilbo's shoulder, holding the Halfling on the narrow ledge.
"We need to get off this thing!" Fili's shout was barely audible over the earsplitting thunder. They had to duck when one of the stone giants threw another slab of rock at them, or rather at the stone giant who was their unwitting carrier.
Boromir could only agree with Fili, the age-old adage When giants fight, dwarves should hide, had suddenly become all too true for them. "Over there – the high ledge. When he moves again, we need to try and reach it." He pointed the direction he meant; it was above them but came into reach whenever their stone giant moved.
"It's too far, Boromir, some of us can't jump that!" Fili shouted back as they came up again when the hail of rocks had passed. His eyes went to Bilbo and Ori indicating whom he meant.
"We throw them before we try to jump!" Boromir had to shout, the thunder drowning out any noise, they were out of options, their giant was trapped between two of his kind and neither of them would want to go down with that thing. He saw Fili's nod, the blond dwarf turning to Óin, who too might need assistance with that jump, if he understood at all what this would be about.
"Bilbo…" Boromir moved his foot back, finding some hold between the rocks as the giant swung back, ready to hit his opponent full force. This was their chance.
"Ori first." The Hobbit insisted. He was pale, wet like them and clearly afraid but he stood his ground, both hands having found a rock spike to hold on to.
Boromir accepted the Halfling's decision; his kind was a hardy, brave race once they discovered their own courage and Bilbo definitely had more of that than others. The warrior grabbed Ori firmly and once the giant attacked, swinging them close to the rock face again threw the dwarf with all his strength, he could see Ori landing on ledge above them, as did Óin and Bifur, leaving only Fili, Bofur, Boromir and Bilbo on the giant's leg.
The creature shook violently as it was hit by a huge boulder from its first adversary and this time it did not recover from the hit, but began to move uncontrolled, swinging staggeringly towards the ledge with the others. "We have to risk it!" Fili barked. "Bofur!" The younger dwarf and Boromir gave the miner jumping assistance before Fili followed, pushing himself off the rock with all his strength to jump towards the vague safety of the ledge above.
Boromir grabbed Bilbo with one arm, holding onto him tightly and followed, his jump coming a few moments too late, the distance already widening again. He missed the ledge, his hand only just so finding a sharp stone needle to hold onto. The wet material was slippery under his fingers, cutting into his hand. It took all this strength to hold on, he gritted his teeth and tried to pull himself up.
"Boromir!" He heard a shout from above, Ori's attempt to assist him nearly cost him his tenuous hold on the rock. Her groaned. "Bilbo… I'll lift you up, grab the ledge."
He had only managed to lift the Halfling part of the way, when he saw movement beside him, Thorin had climbed down to them, grabbing Bilbo and tossing him up to the others. The same time that Boromir felt strong hands get ahold of his arm, Kili was pulling him up. He managed to grab the ledge with his free hand and make it up. Panting he let himself fall on the wet stone ground.
"That was close…" Kili was trying to sound normal but failed miserably at it.
Thorin called for them, he and Dwalin had discovered a cave that would provide them with some measure of cover. "Look around, caves in the mountains are rarely uninhabited." The dwarven leader said. "We will rest here for few hours and go on at first light."
The group spread out in the cave, finding a place to settle down. Boromir chose a place close to the wall, sitting down like he was used to, back to the wall, weapons beside him, he closed his eyes trying to relax himself into sleep, allow his body the rest it needed.
"You can never stop being watchful, can you?" Bilbo asked softly, the Halfling was sitting not far from him. "I don't think I have seen you lie down to really sleep since we met. Even in Bag End you did that."
The warrior looked at the smaller figure sitting in the sand beside him, Bilbo may have little similarities to Frodo but Boromir found traces of Merry and Pippin in him, only with a hint of thoughtfulness and responsibility. "It's a habit," he said. "That way I can be on my feet to fight within a moment. If you lie down it takes you longer to get up and act, when suddenly attacked. Many warriors do that."
Bilbo scoffed lightly. "The dwarves are warriors, Boromir, and they certainly don't lack sleep." He looked at Dwalin who was snoring away gleefully. "You always expect attack, even in Bag End, where the only raid ever happening would be on the larder."
"Some of the dwarves are warriors, not all of them." Boromir pointed out. "They have been wandering as workers, miners and blacksmiths, going where they would find paying work. It is a difficult life, and I admire how they learned to live with the dangers and the hardships of the road." He hoped to get Bilbo to talk about something else, the Hobbit was very perceptive.
"You admire them a lot." Bilbo observed, settling down more comfortably, glad to talk and calm down a bit after the scare on the rocks outside. "It showed when we talked in Bag End."
"Always arriving, ever leaving, oh who cursed my people so?" Boromir quoted a ballad he had heard from Kili years ago. "I do admire them, they are a strong, proud people, many lesser nations would have been utterly broken by what they had to endure. First they lost Dwarrowdelf to Durin's Bane, then they lost their new home, Erebor, to the dragon, people look down on them because they have no home any more, and they will still keep going. They keep their pride, they try to rebuild. If Arnor had one tenth of that spirit Eriador would be better off."
The Hobbit seemed thoughtful at that. "How do you manage to always keep your weapons on you?" he asked, grabbing the belt with the scabbard and sword.
Boromir waved him closer. He had recognized the blade as the sword Frodo would wield in later years. "You keep it on you whenever you can, only take it off when absolutely necessary. And when you sleep you keep the blade beside you, learn to keep one hand on the hilt when you sleep. That way you will grab it when you wake." It was a dangerous thing to learn, you could easily end up stabbing someone with lesser reflexes but Bilbo would need years to develop anything that deadly. His eyes fell on the sword seeing the blue shine. Orcs!
"Trakîr menu! Rûkh ai drak!" Enemies approach, Orks upon us. Boromir had shouted the Orc alert the same moment he jumped to his feet, pulling Bilbo with him to the wall. It was a reaction of absolute reflex, his mind needing several moments to catch up with the actions ingrained by too long a war.
"Wake up!" Thorin's reaction was as swift but to the sand of the cave floor vanishing. The ground gave way, as a trap opened tossing the dwarves down a long shaft. Boromir and Bilbo stood barely on the rim of the gaping hole; they could see their friends tumble down the spillway, vanishing into the darkness.
"We need to do something, Boromir." Bilbo was pale, his eyes still on the dwarves vanishing into the deep. "This can't be good."
"It is a Goblin den," Boromir confirmed. "We need to go after them, before they close this trap."
"What are we waiting for?" Bilbo grabbed the rim of the trap and swung down into the shaft. "It is steep but I think we can walk down."
Halflings, they could be frightened by the howl of a wolf and they could be the bravest beings of Middle Earth! Following Bilbo down into the shaft, Boromir decided that Frodo had gotten his courage from his Uncle.
The tunnel was steep, they had to be careful not to slip and several times they were forced to jump down some steep bits, but they made it down to a hole in the wall, only to see their comrades dragged off by a host of Goblins in the distance. The bridge they were led away on was spanning a wide chasm, filled with other bridges and wooden platforms held by ropes, suspended above the black pit below, torches lighting most of the huge cavernous dwelling.
Boromir looked at the lit grotto in disbelief. It could not be, it simply was not possible. He had been here before, in a darker, more ruined version of this damnable den. But he knew it all too well. "I would have never expected to see this den again." He grumbled, finding a way for them climb down from the hole to the next bridge.
"You've been here before?" Bilbo looked at him shocked. "Do you know where they will bring our friends?"
"I wish I did, it was a long time ago." Boromir drew his sword. "Come, Bilbo, we are going to get our friends back."
ADL
Moving through Goblin Town was not an easy thing to do; the place was crawling with the mountain orcs though they were not particularly attentive. Keeping to the shadows as much as he could Boromir moved along a ledge, Bilbo scouting ahead, crouching behind a post, his raised hand signaling the warrior that a Goblin guard must be standing there. Swiftly Boromir caught up, grabbing the guard from behind by the throat to strangle a scream while he rammed his dagger into his neck. The Goblin died noiselessly, and Boromir discarded the body into the deeps, gesturing Bilbo to move ahead again.
The Halfling had been shaken when he had seen Boromir kill the first Goblin like that, swift and from behind, but by now he had overcome his fear. Deftly he sneaked across the bridge, dousing the torches as he went. When he had passed the bridge lay in enough darkness for Boromir to risk a swift crossing. He still ducked, concealing his size as much as he could when he made it across. On the other side Bilbo pointed towards a cave tunnel, raising two fingers, indicating two goblins in there.
The warrior crept closer, careful to not give himself away. The two Goblins stood very close to Bilbo but not having detected him yet. The Halfling looked at him questioningly, his eyes going to his own sword but Boromir shook his head, they had to do this silently. He threw his dagger hitting the goblin's large eye precisely, the blade burying itself into the creature's brain. Not giving the other time to react Boromir grabbed him, one arm around the throat; pulling the head back he heard a low crack as the Goblin's neck broke. He let go of the corpse, dragging both of them into a dark corner where they would hopefully remain hidden for some time.
Again the nimble footed hobbit had moved ahead into the tunnel, extinguishing the torches on the other end, giving him the all clear with a raised hand. Boromir caught up to him quickly. They stood on a natural balcony above the huge main cave of Goblin Town. There were wooden platforms everywhere and down below them they could see one exceptionally large one with a disgusting looking throne. The Goblin sitting on that thing was the ugliest of creatures Boromir had ever laid eyes on, not even some of Mordor's monsters could compare.
The Great Goblin jumped off his throne. "Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom? Spies? Thieves? Assassins?"
One of the smaller ones replied. "Dwarves, your Malevolence."
Boromir recalled that from Kili's story, the dwarf had only once spoken of it, the night before the battle at the Black Gate and while the Gondorian still hoped Gandalf would show up very soon, he was already planning ahead. "Bilbo, do you see the rope over there?" he asked softly. "Do you think you could climb it?"
The Halfling eyed the frayed rope doubtfully. "I think I could, Boromir. But why? There must be hundreds of Goblins up there."
Squatting down to be on eye level with the Hobbit Boromir said. "Do you see those casks up there?" he asked, pointing his chin up to the platform the rope connected to. "Those are stone oil casks; the Goblins use that oil to feed their torches and tripods. Pushing one over and tossing a torch on it will be enough to set that entire part of town aflame. I will take the other side."
Down below the situation had not been going well and Thorin had stepped forward to protect his people. The Great Goblin eyed him with gleeful wickedness. "Well, well, well! Look who it is! Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, king under the mountain. Oh! But I'm forgetting you don't have mountain, and you're not a king. Which makes you nobody really."
Bilbo too had looked down, and then turned back to Boromir. "Scorch the entire town; that's your plan? Don't you think that is a bit… ruthless?" He did not like these Goblins at all but burning their city would trap thousands of them between the chasm and their burning contraptions. It was something that one found in books or old stories, usually not done by the good side.
The warrior's green eyes met Bilbo's steadily. "Look at them, Bilbo," Boromir said pointing at the Goblins above. "This is the face of the enemy, they will not give quarter or mercy, and they revel in the pain of others. We are the only chance our friends have, and we need to reduce the Goblin's numbers greatly. Are you with me?"
In this short moment Bilbo got a glimpse at Boromir, not at the wanderer, the travelling companion of the dwarves, not even the loyal warrior of King Thorin, but at someone else, a warrior, a leader, a man who would go to any length to protect his friends, a survivor that had shed the last vestiges of hesitation a long time ago. And he relied on him, Bilbo Baggins, to help him save a dwarven king. It was the most absurd, most ridiculous thing he had ever heard of and yet… he would do it. Because Thorin needed them, and so did Bofur, Balin and all the others. "I will be with you." He said, straightening up.
"Let him watch his spawn squeal!" The Great Goblin's voice echoed up to them and Boromir felt the searing pain of a lash through the bond. He bit his lip; it seemed Gandalf was too late. "Hurry, Bilbo, we don't have much time." He helped the Halfling to climb onto the rope, and then he turned to another rope hanging free, he'd have to swing towards the other dais to make his way to the other end of the dwelling ring.
Bilbo tried not to listen to the commotion down below, where the Goblin King had Kili lashed to agonize Thorin further. The young dwarf took it bravely; there were no screams nor pleas from him. But every time the Hobbit heard the sickening swish of the lash he remembered that Boromir had called this the face of the enemy. He knew what he was talking about. Bilbo climbed faster, not heeding the deep chasm below nor the fraying rope under his hands. He would do this, he would make them end it.
When he reached the platform Boromir had indicated he saw the casks and torches were everywhere in this town. The next goblins stood a good few paces away. This time he had no warrior at his back to kill them. But maybe he did not need that. They would not see him. With new courage he swung onto the platform, grabbing a torch. There were two casks right at the rim of the wooden stage. He peered down there and had an idea. He kicked the first cask down there to smash on the platform below, then kicked the other over to spill its contents right on the stage he stood on. Lighting this oil first with the torch he dropped the torch down to the next platform.
Flames rose before him and below, the oil spreading the flames swiftly, and it reached the next casks burning through the wooden planks, the liquid inside only enhancing the storm of fire. Horrified Bilbo realized that he was trapped between the chasm and the expanding flames. With all his strength he jumped for the rope he had climbed up, his hands finding the rough material but the impact too much for the frayed rope, it broke and with a shocked shout Bilbo fell into the deeps below Goblin town.
Boromir felt the lashes like they were hitting him instead of Kili, he exhaled sharply, accepting the pain. Only now he realized that Kili may have told an abbreviated version of the events in Goblin town, keeping the painful, horrible parts to himself. The Gondorian had taken care of enough of Kili's injuries to know the dwarf had lashmarks and a brand on his shoulderblade. Only now he began to guess where he had gotten them, what had happened to him. Tortured to get to his father… those damned bastards, burning bloody Orc-spawn.
A wave of fear and nausea reached Boromir, whatever was happening, Kili was struggling not to drown under the Goblin's hands. And then he felt the heat, the searing heat of the slave brand. He closed his eyes, drawing the pain inward, reaching for Kili through the bond. He would not let him suffer through this alone.
ADL
Kili nearly choked on a sob, trying to hang on. His upper body was naked, his coat ripped away and at his feet. He felt the warm blood tickle from the gashes on his back. He had no chance to escape the lash or the Goblin's grubby hands. But when they brought the slave brand, he could not hide his fear any longer, his brave façade crumbling. No… not that, not branded like cattle, like an orc slave. He had seen this done up in Mt. Gundabad but escaped it back then. Grinning the Goblin held the iron before his face. "You'll howl for us," he said before turning to Kili's back.
He did not know what was worse, seeing the brand or not seeing it, not knowing when it came close. The pain came, a white hot flame of agony ripping through his body mercilessly, his eyes watering, and suddenly there was cold…
He stood on the dank ledge, reaching for the next small rock spur above him, it was cold and wet under his fingers, not much to go for but enough to try. He pressed his naked knee to the wall and pushed himself up, finding a small hold for his bare foot. He did not dare look behind, knowing the shaft behind him was steep and long, falling all the way back into the bowels of the dread city.
Rise from the Shadow
and overcome your fear
Rise from the chains
a new dawn is near.
A voice rose from down there, the voice of the man who was giving his life to allow him this escape. His heart clenched, brave tormented Irdián, fighting a battle that would end in death and he was running. And he could not turn back; Irdáin had gone through all this to free him.
Rise from the agony
that torments your soul
Rise from the doubts,
the day can make you whole.
He climbed on, his body aching with every movement up the endless dark shaft. Hearing the sounds of blades deep down and the song of the warrior going down with a battle that no one may ever hear of but no one would ever forget. His voice carrying above the clash of steel, Irdáin went down laughing, smiling at death. He did not hesitate longer, climbing faster. Above he could see a bright square, the exit from this hellish place. It was said that no one ever had escaped the dungeons of Minas Morgul, he would prove them wrong.
Rise from the prison
bleeding and torn,
Rise above the shadow
and your legend will be born.
And suddenly Kili was pushed back into his body, pain wracking through him but he had born the brand without a scream or a plea to his father. He would live and get out of here. High above the goblins screamed as fire broke out on both sides of their city.
ADL
Boromir kicked over the last cask, tossing a torch at it, the flames spreading quickly. The town was aflame from both sides and from below. The Goblins were screaming, trying to escape the wrath of flames suddenly upon them. The warrior took a running jump landing on the bridge by the King's platform. The moment he landed he saw a ray of white light and the familiar silhouette of Gandalf appear on the other side of the stage. The old wizard appeared much more powerful as he appeared out of thin air before them. "Take up arms! Fight!"
The dwarves got to their feet, grabbing their weapons, once shaken from their shock the mismatched band of travelers became a well-coordinated fighting force. Boromir had headed for the side of the platform where Kili was kneeling on the ground, reaching him together with Dwalin, who helped the younger dwarf back to his feet. Kili winced when Dwalin helped him to grab his coat before Boromir reached them. No words needed to be spoken between the bald dwarf and Gondorian, they both covered Kili as they began their flight out of burning Goblin Town.
They raced over bridges and faltering platforms, making use of breaking beams and hacking the ropes of more than a few bridges. Boromir couldn't help but admire Thorin, down here in the underground battle the man was not only a formidable fighter but also a cunning planner, some of the maneuvers he executed Boromir would have thought impossible, especially the one with the ropes and crashing platform. He could not tell through how many Goblins the dwarven King had cut, he was the vanguard of their flight, an unrelenting, tireless fighter.
Their luck ran out at one of those dratted suspended bridges, it was half aflame from burning embers raining down from the upper city. The dwarves raced across without paying much heed, they did not fear fire. Kili stumbled when they approached the bridge. It was a miracle that he had been able to walk at all. Dwalin put the young dwarf's arm around his shoulder, supporting him. "You can do this, laddie, I know you can." He growled gruffly, before he helped him to cross the bridge with Boromir following. The Gondorian turned around to Ori, who still stood on the other side. "Come on, Ori! Run!" he barked, moving on when he saw the dwarven scribe follow him. But they were too late, the fire had eroded the ropes too much, the bridge crashed under them and they fell into the chasm, crashing down on a much older bridge in a chasm of sharp rock shards. Dwalin sported a scratch in the side, he had managed to push between Kili and the cave wall. Boromir had landed in the middle of the bridge unscathed.
"Where is Ori?"He looked around to find the other dwarf, he had been behind him on the bridge, he must have fallen with them. A pained groan made him look beyond the bridge. Ori was down there, his body impaled on a sharp rock spike. Boromir felt a lump rise in his throat to choke him, the rock spike was long and sharp, the way it protruded from the center of Ori's body there was little doubt the wound was lethal, but the young scribe was in for a slow agonizing death. Even if they had not all the Goblins of this city down on them and managed to free him… he would die. There was nothing that could save him and his dying would be gruesome.
"Ori…" Kili had struggled to his feet, tears streaking down his face, for the moment he forgot his own tortured body. "We need to help him."
"There's nothing that can be done, laddie," Dwalin said softly. "Mahal have mercy on him."
"Dwalin…" Kili pleaded. "We can't let him die like this." Ori's agony was audible for them, and his death was not fast coming.
"There is only one mercy we can give him, lad. A clean end." The Dwarven warrior said, putting a hand on Kili's shoulder. "Boromir… look after the young one, I'll go…"
"No." Kili's voice steadied, the strength pushing past the pain, was something Boromir knew from other times. "I will go. If it has to be like this, it is my duty." The young dwarf Prince did not hide the tears in his eyes when he took Dwalin's dagger and climbed to the ledge where Ori lay. Boromir watched him kneel down beside Ori, gently touching the agonized dwarf's face. He could not hear what Kili said to Ori, but he knew it would be something good and meaningful, to make his passage easier. He had seen Kili do this with deadly wounded warriors, being there in those last moments, giving them strength, letting them know that their sacrifice meant something and would never be forgotten. Kili raised the blade, ending Ori's agony with one swift stroke.
"Mahal receive him in the halls of his eternal fire," Boromir whispered in the dwarven tongue, a blessing that had become familiar to him in the many years in Moria. Dwalin looked up at him with a strange expression. "May his sleep be long and his father's find him." He added.
Kili came back to them, his face pale, the traces of tears marring his cheeks, but otherwise he was composed, as he handed the dagger back to Dwalin. A shriek rose ahead of them, the Goblins were blocking their path. Boromir drew his sword, anger burning in him. These monsters had felled one of their comrades; they would not get any more. The sword in his hands felt hot, singing as it echoed his anger. He sprinted ahead, attacking the first Goblins.
Rise from the Shadow
and overcome your fear
Rise from the chains
a new dawn is near.
The words accompanied the blade when it beheaded the first of the Goblins, Boromir turned, bringing the blade about to behead another two, each stab and attack accompanied by a line of the battle song. A kick for the next to fell down the ledge, stabbing another in the chest. Dwalin reached him and his hammer smashed skulls.
Rise from the agony
that torments your soul
Rise from the doubts,
the day can make you whole.
Arrows cleared the archers from a ledge above; Kili had taken the black bow, shooting the Orcs that tried to attack from a distance. The young Prince had pushed past the physical pain and the agony in his heart, fighting for his life and that of his loyal comrades. He would not give in.
Rise from the prison
bleeding and torn,
Rise above the shadow
and your legend will be born.
They did not know how many Goblins they killed on their fight out of the Goblin town, but when they finally managed to hack away a bridge to cut off the Goblin pursuit they were nearly at an exit that led out of the tunnels. It was dark outside, only a moon shone above the mountains. They stood in a valley on the eastern side of the huge mountain chain and saw high above them a ledge, with trees ablaze. And there was a swarm of eagles clearly visible against the pale moon as they swooped away, carrying some small but familiar figures with them.
Author's Notes
For Harrylee94 who is more and more becoming the voice of my chapters… they feel like an audiobook and I start hearing your voice while I write.