Chapter 14: The Gathering of the Clouds
All night one of them had watched, but when morning came they had not heard or seen any sign of danger. But ever more thickly the birds were gathering.
"Something strange is happening," said Thorin. "The time has gone for the autumn wanderings; and these are birds that dwell always in the land; there are starlings and flocks of finches; and far off there are many carrion birds as if a battle were afoot!"
Suddenly Dawn pointed: "There is the thrush again!"
The thrush flew towards them and perched on a stone nearby. Then he fluttered his wings and sang; then he cocked his head on one side, as if to listen; and again he sang, and again he listened.
"I believe he is trying to tell us something," said Balin; "but I cannot follow the speech of such birds, it is very quick and difficult. Can you make it out Summers?"
"No," Dawn said. "Legolas?"
"I am afraid not," Legolas said. "But he does seem excited."
"I only wish he was a raven!" said Balin. "There used to be great friendship between them and the people of Thror; and they often brought us secret news, and were rewarded with such bright things as they coveted to hide in their dwellings."
"They live many a year, and their memories are long, and they hand on their wisdom to their children. I knew many among the ravens of the rocks when I was a dwarf-lad. This very height was once named Ravenhill, because there was a wise and famous pair, old Carc and his wife, that lived here above the guard-chamber. But I don't suppose that any of that ancient breed linger here now."
No sooner had he finished speaking than the thrush gave a loud call, and immediately flew away.
"We may not understand him, but that bird understands us, I am sure," said Balin. "Keep watch now, and see what happens!"
Before long there was a fluttering of wings, and back came the thrush; and with him came a most decrepit old bird. He was getting blind, he could hardly fly, and the top of his head was bald. He was an aged raven of great size. He alighted stiffly on the ground before them, slowly flapped his wings, and bobbed towards Thorin.
"O Thorin, son of Thrain, and Balin, son of Fundin," he croaked. "I am Roäc son of Carc. Carc is dead, but he was well known to you once. It is a hundred years and three and fifty since I came out of the egg, but I do not forget what my father told me. Now I am the chief of the great ravens of the Mountain. We are few, but we remember still the king that was of old. Most of my people are abroad, for there are great tidings in the South—some are tidings of joy to you, and some you will not think so good. Behold! The birds are gathering back again to the Mountain and to Dale from South and East and West, for word has gone out that Smaug is dead!"
"Dead! Dead?" shouted the dwarves. "Dead! Then we have been in needless fear—and the treasure is ours!" They all sprang up and began to caper about for joy.
"Yes, dead," said Roäc. "The thrush, may his feathers never fall, saw him die, and we may trust his words. He saw him fall in battle with the men of Esgaroth the third night back from now at the rising of the moon. So much for joy, Thorin Oakenshield. You may go back to your halls in safety; all the treasure is yours—for the moment. But many are gathering hither beside the birds. The news of the death of the guardian has already gone far and wide, and the legend of the wealth of Thror has not lost in the telling during many years; many are eager for a share of the spoil. Already a host of the elves is on the way."
"I am Legolas, son of Thranduil. Is the host of elves, by any chance my father's?"
"They are," Roac said as he turned back to Thorin. "The carrion birds are hoping for battle and slaughter. By the lake men murmur that their sorrows are due to the dwarves; for they are homeless and many have died, and Smaug has destroyed their town. They too think to find amends from your treasure, whether you are alive or dead. "Your own wisdom must decide your course; but thirteen is small remnant of the great folk of Durin that once dwelt here, and now are scattered far. If you will listen to my counsel, you will not trust the Master of the Lake-men, but rather him that shot the dragon with his bow. Bard is he, of the race of Dale, of the line of Girion; he is a grim man but true. We would see peace once more among dwarves and men and elves after the long desolation; but it may cost you dear in gold. I have spoken."
Then Thorin burst forth in anger: "Our thanks, Roäc Carc's son. You and your people shall not be forgotten. But none of our gold shall thieves take or the violent carry off while we are alive. If you would earn our thanks still more, bring us news of any that draw near. Also I would beg of you, if any of you are still young and strong of wing, that you would send messengers to our kin in the mountains of the North, both west from here and east, and tell them of our plight. But go specially to my cousin Dain in the Iron Hills, for he has many people well-armed, and dwells nearest to this place. Bid him hasten!"
"I will not say if this counsel be good or bad," croaked Roäc, "but I will do what can be done." Then off he slowly flew.
"Back now to the Mountain!" cried Thorin. "We have little time to lose."
Dawn held back with Legolas as the dwarves started back towards the mountain. "Where do your legions lie?" she asked.
"With my father," Legolas said. "He was correct apparently. I have my doubts that Thorin will give us back the gems that Smaug had stolen from us."
"Stay safe then," Dawn said. "And tell your father that I will work from the inside to make Thorin see reason." She then handed him the Arkenstone. "Take this. Give it to this Bard or your Father. Since Thorin wants it so bad he may agree to peace for its return."
Legolas nodded and off he went as Dawn turned and followed the dwarves.
The dwarves explored the caverns and found that only the Front Gate remained open; all the other gates (except, of course, the small secret door) had long ago been broken and blocked by Smaug, and no sign of them remained. So now they began to labor hard in fortifying the main entrance, and in making a new path that led from it.
Dawn watched and tried to steer Thorin into agreeing to peace. But her words fell on death ears.
As they worked the ravens brought them constant tidings. In this way they learned that the Elvenking had turned aside to the Lake, and they still had a breathing space. Better still, they heard that three of their ponies had escaped and were wandering wild far down the banks of the Running River, not far from where the rest of their stores had been left. So while the others went on with their work, Dawn, Fili and Kili were sent, guided by a raven, to find the ponies and bring back all they could.
They were four days gone, and by that time they knew that the joined armies of the Lake-men and the Elves were hurrying toward the Mountain.
There came a night when suddenly there were many lights as of fires and torches away south in Dale before them.
"They have come!" called Balin. "And their camp is very great. They must have come into the valley under the cover of dusk along both banks of the river."
The next morning saw a company approaching. From behind their wall they watched them come up to the valley's head and climb slowly up. Before long they could see that both men of the lake armed as if for war and elvish bowmen were among them. At length the foremost of these climbed the tumbled rocks and appeared at the top of the falls; and very great was their surprise to see the pool before them and the Gate blocked with a wall of new-hewn stone.
As they stood pointing and speaking to one another Thorin hailed them: "Who are you," he called in a very loud voice, "that come as if in war to the gates of Thorin, son of Thrain, King under the Mountain, and what do you desire?"
But they answered nothing. Some turned swiftly back, and the others after gazing for a while at the Gate and its defenses soon followed them. That day the camp was moved to the east of the river, right between the arms of the Mountain.
The next morning early a company of spearmen was seen crossing the river, and marching up the valley. They bore with them the green banner of the Elvenking and the blue banner of the Lake, and they advanced until they stood right before the wall at the Gate.
Again Thorin hailed them in a loud voice: "Who are you that come armed for war to the gates of Thorin son of Thrain, King under the Mountain?" This time he was answered.
A tall man stood forward, dark of hair and grim of face, and he cried: "Hail Thorin! Why do you fence yourself like a robber in his hold? We are not yet foes, and we rejoice that you are alive beyond our hope. We came expecting to find none living here; yet now that we are met there is matter for a parley and a council."
"Who are you, and of what would you parley?"
"I am Bard, and by my hand was the dragon slain and your treasure delivered. Is that not a matter that concerns you? Moreover I am the heir of Girion of Dale, and in your hoard is mingled much of the wealth of his halls and towns, which of old Smaug stole. Is not that a matter of which we may speak? Further in his last battle Smaug destroyed the dwellings of the men of Esgaroth, and I am yet the servant of their Master. I would speak for him and ask whether you have no thought for the sorrow and misery of his people. They aided you in your distress, and in recompense you have thus far brought ruin only, though doubtless undesigned."
"You put your worst cause last and in the chief place," Thorin answered. "To the treasure of my people no man has a claim, because Smaug who stole it from us also robbed him of life or home. The treasure was not his that his evil deeds should be amended with a share of it. The price of the goods and the assistance that we received of the Lake-men we will fairly pay—in due time. But nothing will we give, not even a loaf's worth, under threat of force. While an armed host lies before our doors, we look on you as foes and thieves.
"It is in my mind to ask what share of their inheritance you would have paid to our kindred, had you found the hoard unguarded and us slain."
"A just question," replied Bard. "But you are not dead, and we are not robbers. Moreover the wealthy may have pity beyond right on the needy that befriended them when they were in want. And still my other claims remain unanswered."
"I will not parley, as I have said, with armed men at my gate. Nor at all with the people of the Elvenking, save Legolas, whom is the only one I remember with small kindness. Only him do I have an agreement to honor. The others have no place in this debate. Begone now ere our arrows fly! And if you would speak with me again, first have Legolas dismiss the elvish host to the woods where it belongs, and then he and you can return, laying down your arms before you approach the threshold."
"The Elvenking is my friend, and he has succored the people of the Lake in their need, though they had no claim but friendship on him," answered Bard. "We will give you time to repent your words. Gather your wisdom ere we return!" Then he departed and went back to the camp.
Ere many hours were past, the banner-bearers returned, and trumpeters stood forth and blew a blast:
"In the name of Esgaroth and the Forest," one cried, "we speak unto Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, calling himself the King under the Mountain, and we bid him consider well the claims that have been urged, or be declared our foe. At the least he shall deliver one twelfth portion of the treasure unto Bard, as the dragon-slayer, and as the heir of Girion. From that portion Bard will himself contribute to the aid of Esgaroth; but if Thorin would have the friendship and honor of the lands about, as his sires had of old, then he will give also somewhat of his own for the comfort of the men of the Lake."
Dawn wondered what happened to Legolas.
Then Thorin seized a bow of horn and shot an arrow at the speaker. It smote into his shield and stuck there quivering.
"Since such is your answer," he called in return, "I declare the Mountain besieged. You shall not depart from it, until you call on your side for a truce and a parley. We will bear no weapons against you, but we leave you to your gold. You may eat that, if you will!"
"Tell Legolas," Dawn yelled as the messengers departed. "To bring it! It may be the only way."
"To bring what," Thorin said as he looked to Dawn.
"You will find out," Dawn said.