Whatever the dwarves might have promised, Betta was not willing to leave all the preparations to them. She had little money, but what she could spare, she spent on food, a warmer cloak and an extra blanket for her pack. She was a child of the southern coasts and when she thought of cold weather, all she knew was the bitter wind that sometimes came from east of the Mountains of Shadow. Her memory of snow was as a glimmer of white on the mountain tops. Foodstuff she knew well, however, and she packed what would last longest and yet be light to carry. In the south, she could hunt, even in barren Enedwaith; but in the cold lands between Emyn Uial and frozen Forochel, who knew?
In a way, she was glad to be leaving so soon, even if the wind blew cold and the sky was overcast and pale. She would not admit it to the dwarves, but for all the doubts of her mind, her heart was glad to be travelling again, and to have an end in sight.
All morning, the creeping exhaustion reminded her that she had not slept well or long that night. Betta ate her bread at midday as she walked the road to the Gates carrying her too-heavy pack that would, too soon, become too light as they journeyed north. She was late arriving and found Fili and Kili already mounted on ponies with their bags ready. A third animal stood nearby, its reins held by an elderly dwarf.
"Fror, son of Farin, at your service," he said. He bowed and offered her the reins.
"At yours," Betta said. "Must we ride?"
Fili looked down at her. "Perhaps you would prefer to carry your weight in baggage, but I would far rather hire a beast for the burden. We will travel farther and faster with ponies."
Betta arranged her pack on the pony and then, reluctantly, she climbed on. When her family dwelt briefly in Rohan, she had learned to ride, but not willingly, and the children of the horse people had laughed to see her bumping along, holding the horn with white knuckles. No matter how they tightened the stirrups, her feet were forever falling free; no matter how gentle a horse they put her on, she always seemed to come away with a bruised bottom.
Fror helped Betta with her packs and held the pony while she mounted, then he went to Fili's side. With his hand on the bridle, he looked up at him. "Your uncle bid me ask, are you certain you will not turn back from this foolish errand?"
"I have given my word," Fili said, "and our uncle knows why we cannot turn back now."
"No one has ever doubted your stubbornness, young one," Fror said. "But you may turn back at any time without dishonor."
"Does my uncle order me to stay?"
Fror sighed and shook his head. "No."
"Then we go on. I know that my brother would never forgive me if I took away his chance for adventure."
"You have always followed your own will," Fror said. "But take care. The northern lands have grown dangerous in recent years. It may be that you will find an orc or two in your way."
Kili grinned. "Then we will teach them to fear dwarves," he said, laughing.
Fror did not laugh. The old dwarf shook his head but let go of the pony and stepped away. "Good journey to you both and take care. Return safe to your uncle."
"We will," Fili said. "Are you ready?"
He had turned to Betta. She had finally managed to arrange herself on the pony and sat stiffly, gripping the reins. "I think that it is foolish not to wait for another day," she said, "but if you will go, then I suppose I must be ready to go also."
Fili turned his pony east and set off at a trot. Kili bowed low to Fror then rode after him. A moment later, Betta's pony followed more of its own accord than from any order she had given it. Fror laughed to see her ride away, but he was anxious and looked darkly on the young brothers leaving the mountain when they knew that Thorin had grown strange in recent weeks.
.
Fili knew the land for many leagues around the Dwarf Home of Ered Luin, and they had started their journey late enough in the day that he hoped to ride only to the next trading town before the sun set. It was not a large and bustling town, like the one that they had left; it was little more than a collection of store houses, sheds and a large, often unoccupied inn at the center of sparse farm lands.
Few men of any kind lived there permanently, but many of the goods that came up from the south passed through their hands before going on to the mountains or to the scattered villages and farms farther north. Nearly everything that would come down from the north to be floated south on the Lhun stopped and was warehoused there for a time. Fili made for the town, because he knew that its inn was the last before they entered the empty lands between the mountains and the river. And, after the river, there would be more empty lands.
Fili and Kili spoke cheerfully together as they rode. They were glad to be finally away from the mountain and on their own. Even Fili had relaxed once they were out from under its shadow, and he began to feel the excitement of starting on an adventure. He laughed with his brother and only once looked over his shoulder to be sure that Betta still followed a few yards behind them. The brothers were glad and did not bother to speak quietly; Kili would not have even if Fili had tried.
"Cousin Fror was not pleased to see us go," Fili commented.
"He is jealous," Kili said. "He does not want us to hoard all the adventure for ourselves. The old dwarf will never leave that mountain, and he speaks only doom and gloom in any case."
"It was strange, though," Fili said, thoughtfully. "I had expected our uncle to come out himself. He should know that if anyone could hope to change your mind, brother, it would be him. No clouds of Fror's making will darken your day."
"Those clouds might," Kili said, nodding ahead of them. "Does that look like rain to you?"
"Winter rain… That is no good way to start an adventure."
"But no more than I would expect," Betta muttered.
Fili turned around in his seat. "What do you say?" he asked.
"Do many of your family dwell in Ered Luin?" she asked. She had not realized that her pony had trotted so close to the others that they would hear her complain.
"Not many," Kili said, "at least, not many of our near relations. Our uncle, and our cousin Fror, who you met. Cousin Gror…"
"Don't forget cousin Nar," Fili added.
Kili laughed. "I have tried but she does not make it easy."
"And your parents?" Betta asked. "Where does your father dwell? Or your mother? You do not mention her."
Kili's laughter died, and he urged his pony faster. Fili watched him put distance between them and sighed. Betta frowned, not knowing what she had said wrong.
"Our mother is dead," Fili told her. "She died not yet five years ago. He was her favorite." He watched his brother, seeing the way his shoulders hung heavy and his head was bowed. Kili had been too old to cry for their mother, but sometimes Fili wondered if it wouldn't have done him some good.
"I thought that dwarves lived a long span of years," Betta said. "Was she young?"
Fili nodded. "Quite young. Only one hundred and seventy-six years she walked the stony roads of Middle Earth. It was a blow, especially to our uncle. She was his only sister and a darling to him and his brother."
"His brother? Does he also live with…?"
"Frerin was killed at the battle of Azanulbizar, many years ago. He was a Burned Dwarf." Fili held his head up proudly, but Betta asked, "What is a burned dwarf?"
Fili frowned at her and spurred his pony on to catch up to his brother. The day was getting colder, and he had had enough of talk.