Chapter 54

Alfrid pokes his head out of the door to the Master's mansion to see the commotion. He sees the soldiers dragging the dwarves to the mansion, with multitudes of townspeople following behind. It is snowing a little. Dwalin yelled, "Get off of me!"

Lots of indistinct muttering and yelling. Alfrid closes the door and goes to get the master. Braga arranges all of the dwarves under guard in the town square before the doors of the mansion. As guards open the doors of the mansion, the Master storms out, still putting on his coat. "What is the meaning of this?"

Braga answered, "We caught 'em stealing weapons, sire."

Master said, "Ah. Enemies of the state, then."

Alfrid said, "This is a bunch of mercenaries if ever there was, sire."

Dwalin said, "Hold your tongue. You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal; this is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!"

Dwalin gestures at Thorin, and Thorin steps forward. The crowd murmurs in amazement. "We are the dwarves of Erebor." The crowd whispers in shock and recognition, and people crane their heads to see better. "We have come to reclaim our homeland. I remember this town and the great days of old. Fleets of boats lay at harbor, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake! This was the center of all trade in the North." Thorin is speaking earnestly to the crowd, and the people nod in agreement. "I would see those days return. I would relight the great forges of the dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!"

The people cheer and clap, and the Master looks on, calculating. Suddenly, a voice calls out over the crowd, and Bard strides forward. "Death! That is what you will bring upon us. Dragon-fire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all."

The people whisper anxiously. St. Anel joined the Company with ease. "Next time listen to orders or you'll be in a whole heap of trouble and not just by me."

Ori whispered, "Yell at us later. Thorin is making sure we keep our heads."

Thorin said, "You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this; If we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain. You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!"

The people shout in excitement and they applaud. The Master looks on, smiling and nodding at this turn of events. Bard yelled, "All of you! Listen to me! You must listen! Have you forgotten what happened to Dale?!" The people quiet down and shake their heads sadly. "Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm?!"

The people shout, "No!"

Bard asked, "And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a mountain-king so riven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!"

As Bard and Thorin stare at each other angrily, the crowd gets louder, but then the Master steps forth. "Now, now, we must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame. Let us not forget that it was Girion, Lord of Dale, your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast!" The Master points accusingly at Bard, and the crowd begins to clamor. As Bard looks away, Thorin looks at him in shock and anger.

Alfrid said, "It's true, sire. We all know the story: arrow after arrow he shot, each one missing its mark."

Bard looks around as the crowd yells angrily at him. He then strides forward and speaks to Thorin earnestly. "You have no right, no right to enter that mountain!"

Thorin said, "I have the only right." Thorin turns and faces the Master. "I speak to the Master of the men of the Lake. Will you see the prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people?" The people quietly watch in anticipation. "What say you?"

The Master thinks for several seconds, then smiles and points his finger at Thorin. "I say unto you...welcome! Welcome and thrice welcome, King under the Mountain!" The Master opens his arms in welcome, and the crowd erupts in cheers. Bard looks on silently. Thorin climbs up a few steps and turns to face the audience; the people hug each other in excitement and joy. Thorin and Bard stare at each other.