Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Raising of the Stakes

Step by weary step, Glóin and Lani clambered up the High Pass. That morning they had found a stream in which they washed their wounds, but the water was cold as ice, and caused more pain than it eased. Now that his undershirt served as his bandages, Glóin was feeling more of the lash of the wind. He was not sure how much blood he had lost, or how much longer denial would keep him on his feet.

Beside him, Lani's limp was growing more pronounced, and her head and tail both hung low. But she had not looked back once, and so Glóin would not look back either. Hs own head bowed before the wind, and his knees sagged under the weight of his body, but on he trudged. Onwards. Ever onwards.

As they climbed, the path grew more twisting, and the trees grew sparser. The road began to grow inwards, closer to the mountain itself, and Glóin's grip on his axe grew stronger. Snow began to fall, small, light flakes that melted as soon as they hit the path, but still bit into Glóin's face.

If they were ambushed before they got a chance to rest, he did not doubt his own doom. His strength was waning, to the point where his head span, and almost made him wonder if he was still bleeding. He was trembling like some half-drowned kitten, and his axe was now demoted to serve as nothing more than a walking stick. He was in no fit state to fight.

As if thinking along the same lines, Lani raised her nose and began to sniff at the air. Almost at once, her shoulders drew back and her hackles raised, stopping in her tracks. Glóin stopped too, and Lani let out a whine, gazing wearily up at him and pawing once at the ground.

It was a gesture that even Glóin could understand.

Wait.

He waited.

She limped forwards, and then disappeared around the corner. Snow blew gently down to the ground, and it was deathly silent. Then, a mournful howl rose from ahead, and Glóin staggered forward as fast as he could, cursing his legs as he went.

"There's nothing wrong with you, dammit!"

He rounded the corner, but the path wove around again, into the mountainside, and he made his way to the next bend. He walked around it. Clamped a hand over his nose and mouth.

Before him stood seven stakes, each six foot tall, and drilled firmly into the ground.

And atop five of them, were severed heads.

Of dwarves.

Glóin's knees gave out beneath him, and crashed into the rocky ground below, so hard that his skin broke.

He could not recognise the three heads on the centre stakes. It was horrifically clear that they had been there for weeks at least, but more likely several months. Only small slithers of rotting flesh clung to the yellowing bones, and he could see the wood of the stake through the gaping jaws and empty eye sockets. There were no distinguishing features left. Nothing that he could use to identify the dead.

Except a symbol he knew well. The mark of the King's messengers.

It was carved into each of their skulls.

His stomach heaving and his heart thudding painfully against his ribs, Glóin shifted his gaze outwards. The other heads had not been there as long. In the cold mountain air, they were only now beginning to rot. Both faces were covered in rivulets of dried blood, streaming from the same markings. The mark of the king's messenger, carved into their skin. While they were still alive.

They were still recognisable.

Still identical.

Austen and Auden.

Strong and sudden as an earthquake, anguish and fury rose within Glóin – an agony for his kinsmen, for their families, for Dori – and a rage towards the goblins of the mountains that made his blood red hot, and surged through his muscles. He stood, and his lungs burnt under the desire to roar with a ferocity to put Smaug to shame.

Goblins had done this, he knew it. They had murdered his people, murdered his friends to cut Erebor from its princes and allies, and they would pay with blood.

But he kept his teeth jammed shut, and forced air out through his nose to keep from screaming. If the damned creatures were still around, he would not have his revenge. He would have his head on pike of his own.

So he let his wrath draw him to his feet, and he raised his axe like a weapon, and not a cane. And then he surged forward, and hewed at the first stake, swinging again and again until it crashed to the ground with a thud. A growl escape him as he hacked at the next stake, and the next and the next, his arms wet with sweat or blood, until all seven pikes lay in splinters on the ground.

The stench of blood and sweat and rot hit his nose, and Lani whimpered.

"Keep watch," he snarled, kicking the wood into a loose pile. Then he swallowed, quashed his nausea, and freed the heads of the slaughtered dwarves. One by one, he laid them atop the wood, and the put the twins together. Let their cheeks touch.

Panting heavily, Glóin wrenched off his bloodied gloves and let them fall beneath the wood. Reaching into his pocket, he took out his tinder box, and a small sack of Flame Powder – another gift from Balin. With shaking hands, Glóin threw the ash-like powder over the wood, and the heads. Then, he set it all ablaze.

"Let's just get out of here," he growled at Lani, and she came to his side, and nuzzled his neck. They moved as fast as their aching limbs would enable them, chased by the stench of smoke and burning further and further up the road.

At last, Glóin could go no further. His eyes fell on a side track, and he stumbled down it. Sure enough, there was a little cave nearby, half-hidden from the road. He jutted his chin towards it. Breathing was too hard to allow him to talk.

The dwarf and the wolf hobbled inside, and sank down against the back wall. Lani sprawled across the ground, her tongue lolling out as she panted. Glóin's arm was screaming in pain, and he had to re-tie his bandages. His head hung low, and as adrenalin left him, hopelessness seeped into its place. He wished for a bed. For a bite to eat.

For a way to send word back to the mountain.

"We've gotta tell 'em," he muttered to Lani. She raised her eyes, but did not raise her head. "Thorin, and Jari, and Dori… they need to know about Austen and Auden, about the others. But Dis and Bilbo – we cannot go both ways? So what do we do?"

Lani whined softly, and closed her eyes. Gave no other answer.

Glóin sighed, letting his own eyes flutter closed. Fragments of half-dreams played in his mind as he lingered in the place between sleep and waking, too tired to stay alert, and yet too afraid to succumb to unconsciousness.

Dimly, he became aware that he could hear the sound of stone on stone, and waking chased the dreams away. He opened his aching eyes and groaned. Goblins, mining. That was the last thing he needed.

But Lani raised her head and twitched an ear, and Glóin listened harder. No, that was not stone on stone – it was hoofbeats?

Glóin's heart stuttered in an attempt to speed up, and he clutched at his axe. Lani clambered awkwardly onto her feet, her chest heaving as she breathed. As loudly as his pride yelled at him to stand too, Glóin could not. He was too weary, of body and of heart. The wolf took a couple of steps forward and swayed, but then stood up very straight, blinking quickly. She was surprised – but not afraid.

The hoofbeats drew closer and she let out a soft howl.

The noise paused.

Began again, faster, and the next thing Glóin knew, a pony was trotting down the path and into their cave. Immediately, Lani threw herself forward, a mess of wobbling limbs like a puppy learning to run, and rubbed her face against the pony's legs. To Glóin's amazement, she even stood on her back legs, pawing at the pony's shoulders and attempting to lick at its face, before her fatigue caught her, and sent her paws back down to the ground.

She slipped, and whimpered, and the pony lowered his head with a soft whicker. They snuffled and sniffled each other, and the pony nuzzled Lani while she licked at his face. Glóin could not help but smile gruffly. At least someone got a family reunion, though he had not expected to see Sven again.

But wait –

That was not his pony.

It wore no tack, and was an entirely different colour. But it was a pony that Lani knew, so did it belong to one of the others? Why was it here, alone and unsaddled?

As if feeling the dwarf's stare, the pony looked at Glóin and huffed, proudly. In fact, he would even go so far to say that the beast looked smug.

"Odo?" he asked incredulously. "Where did you come from?"

The pony did not reply. Of course, he did not – he was a damned pony, not some freakishly clever wolf like Lani. But Lani whined and Odo tossed his head. She twitched her ears and he stomped his foot, and then Lani let out a sigh, licking Odo's nose. Then, she ambled back to Glóin and laid beside him, resting her head in his lap.

"Well?" Glóin prompted. "What did he say?"

Lani raised an eyebrow and cocked her head, a gesture she very much liked. It was her 'foolish dwarf' face, as young Eyja called it.

"Did he say if Gimli's alright?"

Lani gave a soft whine and nodded. Glóin let out a sigh. Well, that was something, at least.

"Right, well," he said gruffly. "I'm too tired to think about – well, anything. I'm going to get some sleep. D'you think it's safe to sleep?"

Lani looked at Luno and gave a soft whine, closing her eyes. Odo laid down at the entrance to the little cave, staring outwards as if he was keeping watch.

Now, Glóin had never wanted to be the one flouncing through the wilds with his animal companions, and little song birds flitting after his every step, and he did not think much of a pony's ability to be a sufficient guard. But he was too weary to care, and he knew that to recover his strength and his wits, he needed to rest. So he laid down, and rested his head on his good arm.

Immediately, Lani crawled closer, shifting so that her head was resting on his chest. Glóin considered shifting, and pushing her off, but he thought better of it. At least now he was warm.

He closed his eyes, and let sleep wash over him.

When he woke it was dark, and Lani was gone.

So, I hope that you enjoyed that chapter! For the first chapter in new territory it is short, I now, but I've been busy and have work tomorrow. I'd rather give you guys a short but complete chapter than a goopy mess of unbaked work. Anyways, please let me know what you think, and thank you for reading!