Healing, Magic, And Unexpected Adventures

Chapter Nine - The Escape From Goblin-Town

I clawed the ground that had suddenly become vertical, desperately trying to get a handhold. The surface was rough, but all that did was tear the skin of my fingertips.

It was no use. I fell with the others, tumbling down a chute and landing roughly in an old wooden cage. A horrible smell filled my nostrils - something rotting and disgusting.

Slimy hands grabbed me and ripped me from the others and barely humanoid shapes swarmed around the entrance of the cage. The stench, the feeling of rough hands on my body and my head wound made the entire experience unbearable. I retched, bringing up nothing but acid that burned my throat, shivering violently.

The rest of the company put up more of a fight. Dwalin almost broke free, before the goblins realised he was more of a threat and swarmed around him like flies around a corpse.

We were marched through tunnels and across bridges for some time. The goblins seemed to take a special and unwanted interest in me, as if they had never seen a female before. They soon learnt not to touch Winston, though. He marched along beside me, snarling when any goblin got too close.

'Bouvardia!' someone called.

I looked up, trying to find whoever it was. I was right in the middle of the goblins and couldn't see anything apart from the tops of the dwarves' heads.

'Bouvardia, where are you?'

'Here,' I croaked, recognising Fili's voice. 'I'm here.'

The sound of another member of the company, especially the fact that they were concerned for me, revived my strength. I struggled furiously against the goblins, lashing out and giving myself some breathing room.

My fighting motivated the dwarves to do the same, but there appeared to be an endless supply of goblins, and our energy was limited. A goblin managed to hit me on the back of the head with something hard and blunt, and I fell down, returning to my previous state as my energy left me.

Something kicked me in my diaphragm, knocking the air out of my lungs.

'Get up,' a goblin ordered.

I struggled to my feet, standing unsteadily as I tried to catch my breath. The attack had made my eyes involuntarily water.

The goblin who had first hit me shoved me forward. I moved, looking down at my feet so nobody could see the tears that were rolling down my cheeks, carving a passage through the dirt and blood on my face.

We were brought to a stop in a wide space. This looked like a throne room for the goblin king - a great lump of warts and flesh sat atop a throne, far bigger than any of the other goblins.

Our weapons were thrown in a pile. The goblin king stepped down from his thrown to come closer, his flabby chin swinging as he did so.

'Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?' he said, eyeing all of us. 'Spies? Thieves? Assassins?'

'Dwarves, your malevolence,' a goblin answered.

I felt warm fingers gently slide through mine. Fili gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

'You alright?' I muttered.

'As fine as I can be,' he muttered back. 'I thought you were hurt.'

The back of my head was throbbing violently, and my stomach ached from the kick. I would be littered with bruises.

'I'm fine.'

'We found them on the front porch,' the goblin was saying.

'Well, don't just stand there, search them!' the goblin king ordered. 'Every crack! Every crevice!'