Chapter 53

The Iron Hills I: Assault

Erebor, 2947 TA

'Ready?'

'As I can be.'

Thorin surveyed the scene and, as he had done quite often since Erebor had been reclaimed, silently lamented the need for the entourage. It wasn't too long ago that he could take to the road without guards and councillors and all of their assorted kin and assistants. But now that he had a crown that could rest atop his head, the notion that he should ride out with such a small company made the whole sorry lot erupt in noisy protests.

'Don't see the need for this trip at any rate,' Dwalin grumbled, who looked on the bustle with as much distaste as Thorin felt. 'You're Dáin's liege lord; he ought to come to you and be grateful for the honour.'

Thorin agreed with him in part. Add to this that he did not particularly like his kinsman and counted any time spent in his company as time ill spent.

Still, 'The Iron Hills are under the crown,' he said. 'It is necessary they see their King once in a while.'

As Kate had said: 'So that they remember that they have a King to whom they owe allegiance. Otherwise they might get these funny notions that they can do as they please without consulting Erebor about anything.'

This sounded like the mannish two-faced mindset Thorin so disliked. He did not like to consider such in his own people, but the fact remained that there was something in the manner of the Iron Hill folk – and Dáin and his councillors in particular – that set his teeth on edge. He could never quite put his finger on it, which made it worse.

Dwalin scowled. 'You shouldn't have to parade under their noses to remind them you're their King.'

Thorin agreed, but 'Apparently my presence in their halls is considered a great honour.'

'For whom?' Dwalin wondered.

Since Thorin did not feel honoured and he doubted Dáin felt very pleased by the prospect of his visit, this remained a mystery.

'Not sure,' he said.

The awful truth was that he had sometimes felt like more of a King, or a leader at any rate, in exile than he did now, when he could sit on a throne with a crown on his head. It was more his way to lead by example than revel in the pomp and circumstance of court.

In moments such as these he had to remind himself that this was the price he paid for giving his people back their homeland, and that this was a price worth paying. At any rate, he'd rather take on that burden than leave it to Dáin.

Would that he could trust his kinsman.

'Adad, are we going?' Thoren tugged on his coat to get his attention. 'Can I ride with you?'

Thorin nodded. 'Aye, lad. On both counts.'

His eldest smiled brilliantly. He still thought of this undertaking as an exciting adventure, something that could perhaps come close to the adventures Thorin told him about at bedtime. It would be nothing of the sort, but a four year old – 'nearly five, adad!' – could not yet grasp that.

Kate approached with Thráin, still half-asleep – on her hip. 'Ready?' she asked.

Thorin nodded. 'As ready as I'll be,' he replied.

'Well, that's good enough for me.' She didn't anticipate this trip with any more joy than Thorin did, but she seemed determined to make the best of it. 'Besides, the trip might not be so bad. Beats paperwork any day.'

Hard to argue with such logic.

If he could ignore the size of his retinue, he could recognise that he would undertake this journey also with folk he did like. Fíli had come, and Ori, to see to any official scribing duties. Dwalin was in charge of the guards, with Lufur along as his second in command. Glóin was one of the few councillors Thorin could stomach for any length of time. The reason for Bofur's presence had yet to be adequately explained, but since many in this behemoth of a travelling group could not adequately explain theirs either, this did not worry him.

'I'll help you mount up,' he said.

Kate's mount was a gentle mare, not suited for any battle, but safe to ride. And given that it would bear the precious burden of Thorin's wife and one of his sons, that was a quality he valued. He boosted her into the saddle and then handed Thráin to her.

'We'll be fine, you know,' she said softly, holding his hand just a fraction longer than strictly necessary. 'We've faced worse than this and lived.'

And so they had.

So Thorin took a deep breath, hoisted himself and his eldest onto the pony and prepared to get on with it.

Kate had been on the road since the quest, but this was the first time it was all the way to the Iron Hills. The amount of preparations had been taxing and the prospect of extended exposure to Dáin and his cronies was depressing, but the journey itself she had anticipated with excitement. It was nice to be out and about again. The weather was lovely – spring was really pulling out all the stops with sunny days and pleasant temperatures – the company was mostly good and the roads were dry.

Of course, nothing could ever be entirely perfect.

'Are we there yet?' Thoren asked before they had even stopped for lunch.

'Not for a good long while yet, darling,' Kate replied. 'We'll be on the road for a full fortnight. Do you remember how long that is?'

Thoren frowned in concentration. 'Fourteen days?'

'Excellent.'

Thorin grinned from his perch behind their eldest. 'Indeed,' he said. 'Your horsemanship will be much improved by then.'

He neglected to mention the muscle ache that came with learning to ride. The lads would find that out for themselves soon enough.

They broke for lunch and resumed the journey. Thoren had begged a ride from Lufur and Thráin had moved to Fíli. Thorin headed off to Glóin to discuss all things diplomacy and Kate was going over some preliminary paperwork with Ori; it wouldn't do to face Dáin unprepared. Ori had a handy small desk mounted to his saddle and if Kate leaned just so, she could read what was on it. Ori's pony, well used to the antics of his owner, followed all the other ponies without consulting his rider for instructions.

In hindsight, Kate should have known that everything was going far too smooth to last.

Lady Nai pulled her pony up beside Kate's with a face that promised trouble. 'We need to talk,' she announced.

Kate closed her eyes and counted to five. Forget the other five, I don't have time for this. 'If we do,' she began, taking care to stress the if in that sentence, 'we shall have to do it later. As you can perhaps tell, I am currently in a meeting.'

That phrase would have worked wonders on anyone else, but not, unfortunately, on Nai. 'Your son…'

If she thought that she could press her point through sheer rudeness, Kate had bad news for her. 'I have informed you once that I am currently busy. I have now told you twice. Do not make me repeat it a third time.'

She entertained a brief fantasy about having Nai clapped in irons and hauled away by the back of her very elaborately embroidered coat, preferably with Dwalin doing the hauling. Unfortunately Nai happened to be a very high ranking lady, so a fantasy it remained.

'But…'

Kate deliberately turned her head back to Ori. 'Could you show me that page again, please, Ori?'

Indignant sputtering erupted. Ori, with his face still in Nai's full view, had to bite back his own smile. He handed her the page in question for her perusal. 'As you can see, Dáin does have first call on trade with Erebor…'

Behind her the squawking increased in volume, but Kate steadily ignored her. It may be a little cunning of her to let Nai make such a fool of herself, but she'd save her sympathy for a more deserving soul. Nai and her father wielded enormous influence with the nobles of the Iron Hills and anything she could do to chip away a little at their power was good news. The lady in question raging at the back of her Queen was not going to do her image any good. Already folk were looking, whispering behind their hands.

This might turn out to be a good thing.

'Adad, sleepy,' Thráin murmured when Thorin took him from Fíli that evening.

'Aye, lad, I know.' A full day's travel was hard on one so young. 'Sleep now. All is well.'

And all was well. They could set up camp with tents to provide shelter, fuel their fires with enough wood to last the night and provide the people with enough food to be sated at the end of the meal.

This is what we won.

Even now, he only had to close his eyes to see hungry folk huddled around pitiful fires, crouching under cloaks to keep out the cold and rain, trying vainly to explain to their hungry children that there was nothing to eat. Thráin would never know that. He would know peace and plenty.

And what a blessing that was.

He found Kate near their tent, telling Thoren to wash his face and hands before dinner.

'I hear you made Nai look like a fool,' he said.

'Nai rather made herself look like a fool,' she corrected. 'I had very little to do with it.'

So Thorin had heard. That is, he had heard the racket from quite a distance, but by the time he and Dwalin had reached the source of the commotion Nai had already been restrained by some of her kin and her husband Onur, who was frequently the victim of heavy embarrassment. Maker only knew what had ever compelled him to wed the Lady Nai.

Thorin wondered if he had been forced at sword point.

They dined with their friends before their tent. Thoren was still very awake, but it was a trial keeping Thráin up long enough to eat. He sat on Thorin's lap, leaning against his chest because the effort of staying up on his own was beyond him.

It was strange to sit here like this, with kith and kin about him, on the road, but with all that he needed within reach. Bofur brought his pipe and Lufur a fiddle. There was music and singing and storytelling as if they had never known anything else.

By the time the gathering broke up the hour had grown very late indeed. Both the lads had been asleep for hours.

'I'm sure I am going to regret this in the morning,' Kate said as she tucked Thráin in. He mumbled, turned over and slipped deeper into slumber. 'Although I'm surely not regretting it now.'

'Nor I,' said Thorin. 'We have been blessed.'

He did however not feel blessed when horns were sounded before the sun was up, crying alarm for all with ears to hear. Orcs, he suspected, although it took nerve to attack such a large party so close to Erebor. Then again, no orc Thorin had ever met had adhered to anything like common sense or self-preservation.

'Stay here with the lads,' he instructed Kate.

She nodded tersely, grabbing Excalibur with one hand, while hugging Thráin with the other. Thoren, pale and trembling, crouched behind her.

This should not happen.

The thought fuelled the rage. His people had been subjected to this for many years in exile, always living with the possibility of a nighttime attack hanging over their heads. Children too young to really understand cowering in fear, too many grown dwarves fighting desperately for survival, too few returning every time. He remembered Frerin and Dís holding onto each other like they might fall apart if they let go.

This should not happen.

'Come back,' she said.

It was his turn to nod. 'I will.'

He left the tent and emerged into controlled chaos. Folk scurried about, grabbing cloaks and weapons, trying to tug on boots even as they hurried towards the action.

Where it was all going wrong was not hard to find. Orcs shrieked a little to the south. They had set fire to a few tents and were trying to make inroads deeper into the camp.

'Fifty orcs or thereabouts,' Dwalin reported, falling into step with Thorin. His axe was already in his hand, just as Orcrist was in Thorin's.

There was no time for talk. They came upon the orcs soon enough, joining others who were already there. There was never any question who would claim victory here this night. The orcs must not have realised that this was no merchant party on the road, rich in goods, but poor in arms. They had attacked the well-guarded King under the Mountain and his retinue.

Perhaps there were benefits to having so many people along.

He fought along his people, felling orcs as they came. There did not appear to be any strategy to their attacks, just mindless malice. Yet there must be some intelligence to them. They had snuck up on the camp close enough to do damage before the alarm was sounded.

They were intelligent enough when it came to inflicting horror and suffering.

He killed another with Orcrist and found that he had run out of foes. The last of them were quickly dealt with. Thorin looked around him and considered the carnage. All of the unmoving bodies belonged to the orcs. Several of his own people were wounded, evidenced by the kind of bad language that could curdle milk.

'The guards must have been half asleep to let them come so close,' Dwalin fumed in tones that suggested he would be having words with them in short order.

'They would not have expected it,' Thorin said. He was not any less angry, but he understood why some guards, especially some of the young ones, might have been not as wary as they should have been. They hadn't learned yet that orcs could strike anywhere at any time. Thorin had learned that lesson the hard way. 'Not so close to Erebor.'

'They should have expected it,' Dwalin growled.

'Aye, they should have.'

But it was over now. They had all come out alive. They were harmed, and wiser for it, but they had survived.

It was over.

But it wasn't. Screams from within the camp put an end to that illusion.

Thorin's blood ran cold. He knew that voice.

'Kate!'

There were moments when it became abundantly clear to Kate that Middle Earth was not a Safe Place. Behind the walls of Erebor she could forget this for months at a time. Her memory tended to repress some of the worst memories of the quest: the constant vigilance, the never-ending sense of being exposed and open to danger, the fear permeating everything.

She was in no danger of forgetting now.

I should have remembered, she thought angrily as she set about organising what meagre defences she could. If she had remembered, she would not have been as surprised. It didn't matter that they were only a day's journey away from Erebor and it should have been safe. She should have remembered that any safety outside of sturdy walls was a treacherous illusion.

Her boys didn't know that yet, although Kate knew that life was about to deliver that lesson to them in a brutal manner. Thoren was pale, holding on to his brother's hand as if both their lives depended on it. Thráin was crying, noisy sobs that gave voice to the terror he did not have the words for yet.

It made Kate want to kill some orcs on principle, for putting her sons through that.

'Thoren, take Thráin and come here, near the opening of the tent,' she instructed, keeping her voice steadier than she thought herself capable of. 'Come, quickly now.'

She herself was already there, Excalibur in her hand. If they were attacked here, it would never do to be caught inside, with no way to escape. If it came to it, she could hold Thráin as she ran. Thoren was not so fast yet, but she could not carry them both.

Maker, help us!

The action was not anywhere near their tent. Yet. After the quest, she would never underestimate orcs and their vileness ever again.

Thoren pulled Thráin along behind him, trembling as he did so. Kate put her free hand on his tiny shoulder and squeezed gently. 'Courage, darling.' She didn't make a promise of safety. She didn't tell him this would soon be over. She had joined Durin's Folk and dwarves did not lie.

'I'm scared,' he confessed in a small voice.

'So am I,' Kate said. She reached out to Thráin, who grabbed her arm and clung to it like a lifeline. She stroked his hair, but it did nothing to calm him. He was beyond being comforted and Kate's own spiking anxiety only made it worse.

The noise made it harder to pinpoint where the action was happening, how many orcs there were and who was winning. The little she could make out indicated that the orcs had set fire to everything they encountered – no surprises there – but that the dwarves were offering fierce resistance. Battle cries in Khuzdul filled the air. The orcs responded in mangled common speech or that wretched language of theirs that Kate didn't know, but that made everything sound like a curse.

Movement glimpsed from the corner of her eye made her stop paying attention to the fight beyond her sight and more attention to what was taking place right in front of her. Three orcs sneaked past a cluster of tents to Kate's left deeper into the camp, looking for easy prey. Their triumphant grins when their eyes landed on Kate and her sons suggested they had found it.

Maker be good.

She was cold and nauseous with fear, but there was more than just her own life at stake here. She had her sons to protect.

'Thoren, stay here, hold Thráin,' she instructed without taking her eyes off the would-be attackers. 'If everything goes wrong, run with him as fast as you can. I'll hold them up.'

There was no time to wait for confirmation. Mahal, watch over them. Kate rose to her feet, making sure to hold Excalibur in such a way that they could clearly see that she was armed and she knew what to do with a weapon.

They laughed in her face.

They were right. Kate wasn't strong. She wasn't particularly good at swordplay. She was outnumbered. But she was also a mother. This was not a superpower, not something to balance the odds. But it was one hell of a motivator.

You're only getting to my sons over my cold dead body.

'Stop right there!' she called.

They replied in their own foul tongue.

'Not one step further,' Kate warned.

The one closest to her took that as a challenge. He lunged at her. Fortunately Kate had seen that move coming a mile away; orcs may be cunning, but subtle they were not. She parried the move and followed that up with an outstretched leg over which the orc tripped. Kate was no expert swordswoman, but Dwalin had taught her a few tricks that played to her strengths.

And she was more than ready to play as dirty as she had to.

The first orc fell face-first into the still smouldering remains of a campfire, which meant that he was out of the game for now. The second orc followed, closely followed by the third. Both of these were bigger and heavier than the first one.

If she'd had time, she would have been afraid. But there was only the fight and the need to keep her boys safe.

Kate slashed at the second orc, who leaped out of her way, but not quick enough to avoid Excalibur entirely; he took a wound to the hip and screamed, more in anger than pain. The third orc dodged Kate's parry and slashed at her ribcage. Kate danced backwards, but it was a long blade and the tip got her anyway. The pain was agony. She couldn't have stopped the scream if she tried.

Head in the game, Andrews, she chided herself. This isn't over.

The orc laughed, throwing his head back in victory. Kate gathered her wits and her blade and lunged. The laughter cut off in shocked gurgles as she ran him through so deeply that Excalibur's tip came out at the other side.

Game over.

It would be over for her too if she didn't get it together, because the second orc was still alive and literally kicking. He aimed high and kicked her in her newly acquired wound. The pain made her nearly black out.

Keep it together!

The boys were still there. It was her duty to keep them alive. Her discomfort didn't matter.

The kick made her trip, but Dwalin's rigorous training ensured that she didn't let go of her sword, which pulled free of her victim as she went. Even as she fell she swiped blindly in the orc's direction and was rewarded in howls of pain. Not so good at taking it as he is at dishing it out.

Kate went down, which turned out to be a good thing. The orc brought his blade down, but she rolled out from underneath it and leaped back to her feet before he could prepare for the next round. Even so, she only made it just in time; the orc was bloody fast. He came at her again. Kate could only just parry the blow before it could decapitate her, but the impact sent waves of pain up her arms.

She gritted her teeth and kicked at his privates while his sword was still engaged. Evidently this hurt orcs as much as it hurt ordinary people. He doubled over, gasping.

He never made it back up again. Thorin appeared out of nowhere and took his head off.

'Ah, good. You're here,' Kate said.

Then she blacked out.

Next week: the aftermath. Plans are made.

Reviews and requests would be very welcome.

Until next time.