Rise (Lord of the Rings)

19 - A Living Hell

"Frodo," Sam whispered. Frodo unsheathed Sting, its blade blue.

"Orcs," Legolas declared.

Boromir went to the wooden doors to confirm Legolas's suspicion. He jumped back. Two arrows were lodged in the door.

"Get back!" Aragorn barked. "Stay close to Gandalf!"

Gandalf herded us five Hobbits behind him. Aragorn and Boromir yanked the doors shut. That, obviously, wasn't going to keep the Orcs from breaking them down and attacking us.

"They have a cave-troll," Boromir called.

I was squished in the middle of the pack of Hobbits, so I couldn't see past Gandalf's back. What I did manage to see was Legolas and Boromir grabbing long weaponry—spears and the sort—to use in an attempt to buy the Fellowship more time.

Gandalf pulled out his sword, we Hobbits did the same. I wasn't going to run from this. There was nowhere to run. I knew fighting Orcs was inevitable, but I didn't feel ready to take any on yet. I'd only had a few dueling sessions. That wasn't enough to help prepare me for a fight for my life!

I flinched at the sound of the doors being knocked into.

"Let them come," Gimli roared. He stood on top of the tomb, swaying in anticipation of the battle, his ax ready in his hands. "There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

I'd never heard someone so fired up about fighting Orcs. Then again, Gimli had good reason to be as motivated as he was right now.

On the front line, Aragorn and Legolas were armed with arrows, Boromir armed with a sword and shield. We could hear the crack as wood began to break beneath the Orcs' wrath. There was a small breach, and Aragorn and Legolas didn't hesitate to strike.

It took three arrows, but they both forced back an Orc that was on the other side of the door. Though we couldn't actually see it, we could hear it screech and saw the arrows disappear.

I stumbled back a step when the doors were smashed open, releasing the army of Orcs into the tomb. Aragorn and Legolas shot what Orcs they could as the army charged.

The moment Gandalf and Gimli dived into the action, we Hobbits did as well.

The clanging of swords and battle cries rang in the chamber. I swiped at every Orc that was within striking distance. I swiped some legs and a few torsos. I maneuvered between those that ran past me, striking them to slow them down.

I ducked just before an Orc's sword took off my head. I slashed its leg, making a deep gash. It roared in outrage, swiping at me. I jumped away, meeting its sword with mine. This Orc was slow, I easily overtook him. The acrid stench of its blood made me gag.

I dodged an Orc that leapt for me. Gimli nearly tripped over me as I jumped to my feet. A loud bugle made me turn towards the doors; it had to be the cave-troll Boromir had warned us about.

It was an ugly brute. Its skin was gray, its body bulky. It was armed with a club longer than its thick arms. An Orc or two led it by a chain.

This might be a problem.

The troll bellowed, thrusting its club down near Sam. Thankfully, Sam jumped out of the way. I didn't see Merry, Pippin, or Frodo anywhere. Each time the troll moved, the ground trembled.

The troll barreled its way through the madness, nearly squishing me under its nasty, massive feet. I had a second's rest before an Orc charged for me. I sliced at its legs; it fell on its stomach. With a loud cry, I stabbed it in the back. I held my sword in there until the Orc stilled. A loud roar of outrage made me turn only to get my face knocked into by a greasy Orc arm.