I totally forgot to post yesterday! So sorry. I also apologize if this chapter is a bit disjointed.
Disclaimer: this is Tolkien's world, not mine
Ch 17: Swift is the arrow
The barrels only dropped a short way before landing with a splash. The landing jolted Fíli and he let loose a small cry of pain. He was thankful no one heard it about the rush of the water. The river pushed them along for sometime in the dark.
After what seemed like a small eternity, the river flowed out of the cave and into the light. Fíli had to blink several times in the light after being so long in the darkened interior of the Elven King's palace. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that the trees were healthier and sparser than they had been in other parts of the forest.
The ride down the river was far from smooth. Fíli's barrel bumped into rocks and other barrels. More than once the blond Dwarf was afraid that he was going to get dumped out. The spray drenched him and made him cold. His hands were numb from where they gripped the rim of the barrel.
As he rode down the river, he felt a strange sense of giddy disbelief, the hobbit's plan was actually going to work.
They had been riding down the river for a few minutes when Fíli sighted something that made his heart drop. This border of the Elven kingdom was well guarded. A low stone wall stretched from right to left disappearing into the trees on either side of the river. Over the river itself was a portcullis was currently open. Elven guards patrolled the top of the wall.
As they approached the boarder, a cry rose from the wall. They had been spotted. There was a high-pitched grinding noise and the portcullis clanged to. The stream pushed the barrels right into the grate under the stone archway. The Dwarfs in the front of the group were well and truly trapped.
The first of the Elven boarder guards rushed down a low set of stairs towards the river, weapons drawn. Fíli groped around desperately for any sort of weapon. He just managed to pull out one of his remaining knives, when the first Elf stumbled and fell to the ground. The second and third Elf soon were felled as well. It was then Fíli noticed the crude arrows sticking out of their bodies. The Orcs had come and they were sitting ducks.
Fíli looked around. He could see Orcs beginning to emerge from the trees on this side of the stone wall. He also noticed the lever for the portcullis was just up the stairs to his right. Fíli made a move to get out of his barrel, but Kíli pushed him back down before hopping ashore. Fíli anxiously watched his brother dash over to the lever.
He made it all the way to the lever unhindered. However, just before he could pull it, the air was split by a woosh as an arrow buried itself in Kíli's leg just above his knee. Fíli felt his heart clench as his brother gave a grunt of pain and collapsed to the parapet floor.
Fíli went to help his brother, but he was once again pulled back down, this time by Dwalin. The space where Fíli's head had been moments before was sliced by a scimitar. While Fíli had been watching his brother, the Orcs had closed in from the other side.
The Elves and the Orcs were battling fiercely, but the Elves were badly outnumbered. A grating noise, just barely audible above the din of battle set Fíli's teeth on edge. Looking back towards the source of the noise, Fíli saw that Kíli had managed to pulled the lever partway down. The portcullis now stood part way open, just wide enough for the barrels to slip through one by one. Fíli hollered at his brother to get back the barrels.
Kíli glanced towards the stairs, hesitating. There was no way he could make it with an arrow in his leg. Fíli saw his delema.
"Jump! Kíli! Jump!" Fíli yelled. Kíli limped over to a spot directly above the barrle next to his brother. Fíli held it steady as Kíli lowered himself into it. Kíli's grip slipped and he dropped the last few feet. The arrow lodged in his leg broke with a horrid snap. Kíli's face when white as he screamed. Fíli tried to be brave as he called encouragements to his brother before they were swept out of each other's sight.
They were off again, down the white rapids of the river, on to the Long Lake. The Orcs howled in dismay, but were unable to keep up with the swift current.
After an hour or two, the barrels one by one bumped into a small jetty separating the river from the Long Lake. By the time Fíli's barrel made it to shore, most everyone had scrambled out of their makeshift boats.
Fíli grit his teeth, but found that he was unable to get out of his barrel. His bad leg had locked up from the abuse of being battered around in the river. His grunted and strained, but only succeeded in getting a face full of water. Dwalin gently but unceremoniously hauled him out of the barrel and up onto shore. After nodding his thanks, he half staggered, half crawled over to Kíli.
Kíli's face was pale as he gently peeled back his leggings. Fíli could see the broken shaft of the arrow sticking out his leg.
"Keep moving, we make for the mountain," Thorin gruffly commanded.
"Kíli's been injured, his leg needs tending," Fíli argued back.
"By nightfall, this whole area will be crawling with Orcs. We keep moving. That's our best chance," Thorin said.
"But Kíli's leg!" Fíli protested. Thorin gave a heavy sigh and glanced longingly in the direction of the Lonely Mountain.
"Fine. Bind his leg. You have five minutes."
"Here let me do that," Fíli pushed Kíli's hands away from the wound. Kíli gave a half-hearted protest, but let Fíli tend his wound.
Fíli slowly eased the arrowhead out of Kíli thigh. As soon as the offending object was pulled clear, blood flowed swiftly out of the wound. Fíli moved aside as Oin quickly stanched the flow and bandaged the wound.
As Oin was finishing up, Dwalin gave a shout and snatching up a rock he threw it off towards the Long Lake.
"Try that one more time and I will put an arrow through you," a low voice threatened. Fíli looked up to see a tall man with a bow aimed at Dwalin who was brandishing another stone. The Company froze.
"You're from Lake Town if I'm not mistaken," Balin noted, shifting slightly. The man sighted his bow at the elderly Dwarf. Balin simply held his empty hands up in a gesture of surrender.
"So what if I'm? What's it to you?" the man shot back, not lowering his bow.
"That boat wouldn't happen to be for hire?" Balin asked, gesturing at something Fíli couldn't see from where he was seated.
"And if it's not?"
"We can pay for passage," Balin offered. Fíli wasn't quite sure what they would pay with if the boat man demanded payment, the Elves had stripped away everything of value that they carried.
"I don't give passage to fugitives, especially those who run from King Thranduil, nor will the Master of Lake Town willing allow strangers to tarry if they don't carry wealth," the man retorted running eyes the rims of the barrels. Fíli could see a notches were an arrows had hit them.
"We are not fugitives. King Thranduil wrongfully waylaid us on our way to see relatives in the Iron Hills," Balin told him. The man considered what he said.
"My price is high," he finally said.
"As I said, we are willing to pay."
Bard, for that was the man's name, and Balin haggled on a price. All the while, Thorin distrustfully glanced back up the river.
Finally, the price was paid and they boarded the barge. Bard loaded the barrels on to the ship while the Company settled at the forward part of the boat. Bard shoved off and the boat floated away from the dock. Fíli felt a small flutter of anxiety as they started the last and most dangerous leg of their journey.