Listen while you read: "Sail (instrumental) by Awol Nation or type youtube and add /watch?v=sg_TpbODUyE
Chapter 13
Dul had covered Thorin's body from the blast of the explosion, taking the force of impact and the sting of flying gravel in his back. His muscled arms reached around the huddled bodies of Thorin and his heir, releasing them just as soon as the gates had begun to close.
Things were moving quickly and he had to act fast if he was going to catch up to his companions in the forest. He murmured something to Thorin, unsure what his words sounded like as they tumbled out of his mouth, but Thorin knew what the fellow was trying to say.
"Go!" Thorin shouted, waving Dul away and picking up his nephew, who looked stunned, but unharmed.
Dul sprinted through the trees, long sword swinging in its sheath, and footfalls heavy. He was surefooted and sped through the trunks without missing a beat.
He heard Thorin and Fili follow for a moment, knowing they were heading for the wall where Kili was supposed to meet them, but Dul did not look back to see whether the archer had made it or not. He was determined that no distance or length of time would keep him from coming to the aid of his people if they were in peril—and he suspected they were.
While Dul darted through trees, he glanced at shadows passing him by, but they were running toward the outpost, probably to determine why there were explosions.
He noticed a few minutes into his dash that none of the petty-dwarves had followed him and he prayed that they had left the fleeing tradesmen alone.
It took some time, but eventually he heard a scuffle ahead and approached a group of dwarves holding torches and struggling with each other. A number of his comrades were grappling their opponents, wrestling with might only a dwarf can exert.
Only two of Dul's allies carried weapons: Smerri, who was waving an axe chaotically, and Nur, who strode toward a grey haired petty-dwarf and struck him down with one of Fili's twin swords. It was not an elegant blow, but Dul could tell she had been very basically trained.
Nur flung the bloody body aside in disgust. She wiped the back of her hand across her sweaty brow and immediately scolded herself for doing so, breaking the flow of movement. The swordmaster of the Iron Hills would have reproached her for it, but she did not have long to think on it before another dwarf replaced the one she cut down.
Dul sprang into action, defending his fellow outposters and straining every muscle to comply with the ferocity steadily building in his chest.
The terror in the petty-dwarves eyes grew in seeing the berserker. A good number of them fled in the direction of the fort, and the few who remained were overcome in minutes.
Dul had called upon the haunting images of his delicate wife withering away under the corruption of the toxins she'd unknowingly eaten, driving him to the brink of red wrath which would stop him from recognizing friend from foe—but Nur called out to him in her distinctly female voice and he wavered, thinking for a moment that perhaps his beloved had risen from death and was calling to him now.
The infuriated dwarf looked up and did not see his wife; a small tinge of disappointment pulling at his chest when he deciphered the harsh reality of where he was.
"Nur…" He heaved his breaths through his wide ribs. "Is anyone hurt?"
Nur had watched, wide-eyed as Dul became a whirlwind of blade and blood. It was terrifying to her, and she took little comfort from the knowledge that he was her ally—she couldn't be certain he would have recognized any allies in such a state.
She called his name and his eyes locked with hers, a mix of confusion and longing slowly turning to weariness and almost… disappointment?
He asked her if anyone was injured.
She looked around to assess the damage at their feet. They'd managed a small battle in the midst of trees and Nur watched as Dul's senses woke him to the damage he'd inflicted—trunks hacked away and fallen logs supporting the idea that he had been fighting just as much wood as dwarf.
He shook his head and wiped his sword on the ground, cleaning it of blood, and sheathing it before he gathered the group together.
Though Smerri had been brave, he'd done little damage and his arm drooped from the exertion of wielding such a heavy weapon. The traders had suffered only two casualties, while the petty-dwarves had lost fifteen, and the wounded were still able to navigate the terrain with ease. They had been fortunate.
"Do we keep going?" Nur asked, slinking to Dul's side and dabbing a ripped sleeve at a gash in his arm.
"I'm not sure." He said honestly. He was still panting but his breaths were coming easier now. "I don't know if they'll be bold enough to follow us further, but I think we should continue to make for the road."
"If any linger, they'll catch us on the road."
"I'll make them stop lingering." Dul said with a reassuring wink, clasping the hilt of his sheathed sword. "Besides, this terrain is too difficult on these weary folk and it stops us from speed. With the swiftness of the road, we may be able to outdistance the enemy."
Nur bit her lip and the balding dwarf eyed her knowingly. "We'll rest here for a short time." He said with a settling breath. "If they're late, we move on—they know where we're going, they'll be headed the same direction. And if they were overtaken…"
Nur frowned and refused to look at Dul.
"Then it won't matter either way."
"How can you say that?" spoke an eavesdropping Smerri. "Wouldn't we go back to help them?"
But Nur did not hear the answer that Dul gave to Smerri, moving instead to assist the travelers in caring for their injuries. She walked to each of them, giving them water, when the discussion between Smerri and Dul became heated and Dul looked as though he may strike the lad.
A third voice joined the conflict, and Nur looked up to see that it belonged to none other than the King under the Mountain. Relief washed over Nur in seeing her beloved safely walking behind Thorin.
But she was stirred to concern when he saw that Fili supported his brother and that his brother was limping painfully.
Kili's injury had proven, at first, easy to push past, but in putting his full weight on the twisted ankle he had aggravated it to the point of swelling and pain.
Nur handed the water skin to a younger lady dwarf and advocated her to see that everyone had drunk their fill, jogging over to the approaching trio and noting the absence of Smiddag.
"Where is Smiddag?" Dul asked Thorin, speaking Nur's thoughts.
"He fell defending the escape of the others." Kili said with a grimace.
"We've seen no others." Dul said, but the four stepped forward to confirm they'd joined into the fray while Dul fought.
Nur's pulse sped up at the sight of Fili, inspecting him and seeing that he was unharmed except for a small gravel burn on his elbow, and then feeling her heart sink when she took in Kili.
Kili spotted her examination of him and stopped leaning on his brother, trying to walk past her to ask for a water skin, but she stopped him with both hands.
"You just stand right where you are." She said firmly. "What happened?"
She knew he was pretending to ignore her, but Fili spoke up. "He fell."
"I left one mum at home and find myself on the road with five more." Kili moaned.
"His left foot." Fili said.
"Forget standing, dear, just sit." Nur pleaded, tugging at Kili's shoulder.
He brushed off her hands and said something in dwarvish, followed by Nur clapping her hand over her mouth and Fili scolding him for using such upsetting language—especially in front of a female, and most especially in front of a female of royal heritage—and Kili instantly apologized. He was busy hoping Thorin hadn't overheard him, though his uncle's scowl said differently, when Nur changed her tactics.
"Kili, listen to me very carefully." She said with her hands on her hips. "You can pretend nothing's wrong, walk on that foot painfully, let it get worse, and then have it turn into something bigger when we get home—and instead of a triumphant return, we'll be pulling you in on a gurney, with your mother fussing all over you in front of the whole royal court!"
Kili's eyes widened in horror.
"Or," she said with a softer tone and putting a gentle hand on his crossed arms. "You can let me look at it now, wrap it, and you can still walk on it painfully, but it will be stronger when it's bound—it won't get worse and there won't be any fussing. I won't even tell your mother if you don't want me to."
"You've never been this frightening before." Kili muttered and lowered himself to sit, stretching out his injured foot and removing the boot.
"You don't need to hide things, you're not a bother to anyone," Nur chided. "One day you're going to be seriously hurt and you'll wish you'd spoken up sooner."