The Steed Of The King: Part 1

The sky was covered in an endless field of a thousand clouds. The faded blue sky could be seen in between them, however, very little light shone through. All around me was a small valley, like a bowl, and it was made purely of dirt and rock. All signs of plant life and water had vanished long ago. A fresh layer of fallen snow coated the ground all around my hooves and the air was thin and crisp after last night’s freezing temperatures. Every step I took left a footprint as I continued forward. I could see the fog that accumulated in front of my nose after every breath I took. It reminded me of the smoke that dragons would sometimes let loose. I had heard many stories about them. While I do not understand all things that my master says, I am able to make out quite a few things. The speech of humanoids has always been confusing. Elves, humans, dwarves, halflings, wizards. They all speak differently sometimes. I felt my master very gently tap my side with his foot. I stopped walking at once and froze at perfect attention. My mind was brought back to the present as I heard the gentle breath of the pure white stallion beside me. His master, a human this time, had ordered him to stop as well. I wonder what this is about? I knew that my master was quite frustrated and a sense of pain had been clinging around him lately. Not physical, but emotional. It was odd. I barely lifted my head as I looked at what lay before me. A large gate, which must have been at least 70-100 feet high, was blocking the way into the kingdom of Erebor. Standing on the top of it were thirteen dwarves. They seemed as unsettled as my master. I knew that behind me there was an extremely large army clad in gold, an army that my master led. These dwarves had a very good reason to be unsettled. I watched as the tallest dwarf, which must have been the one they call “Oakenshield” lifted up a short bow and aimed it straight at me. I resisted the urge to move, if my master did not tell me to, then I shall not. The arrow was released. It whizzed past my large right antler and struck the ground an inch from my front right hoof. I felt my master tense slightly on my back as he watched it splinter on the stone. “I will put the next one between your eyes.” I heard the dwarf say menacingly at my master. I shuffled ever so slightly. I take it this dwarf was not on our side. Suddenly, the army behind me drew all their bows at once for a minute as all but Oakenshield ducked for cover. The army, at my master’s command, put their bows down in unison, allowing the dwarves to stand back up. “We have come to inform you that payment of your debt has been offered, and accepted.” My master’s deep voice rang out amongst the silence. Debt? What debt? I still do not fully understand what is happening. I heard the dwarf say something more but I decided not to pay attention. Something else had caught my eye. The white horse’s rider to my left reached into a pocket in his coat and pulled out a glowing white jewel. It was large and held many other colors within it. Ah, I had heard of this. The Arkenstone, that was the payment I guessed. A question flickered in the back of my head once again. What could my master possibly want from this dwarven king? Oakenshield was now yelling things in shock and disbelief. The air itself seemed to be becoming more and more uncomfortable as the tensions grew higher. I flicked my ears attempting to self soothe. I remember my master teaching me to do such a thing, to keep myself calm in stressful and even dangerous situations. It seems to have finally come into play. While my sense of hearing was acute, I could not understand the quarrel that seemed to take place at the top of the gate. The next thing I knew, I heard a booming voice that echoed throughout the valley. On my left, between me and the stallion, was a wizard. Mithrandir. I had known him for as long as I could remember with his gray clothes and his long stick. “You dare hurt my burglar, then please, don’t damage him. Return him to me.” That was unusual for him, he was rarely ever so agitated. I looked back up at the gate to see a small figure, the halfling I guessed, come scurrying down a length of rope before touching the ground and making his way to Mithrandir’s side. Oakenshield shouted something angrily again, I could sense that there was something wrong with him. “You’re not making a very splendid figure as king under the mountain are you?” Mithrandir said, calmness restored in his voice. It doesn’t seem like it. There was no response. Things got very quiet for a minute again, this time, I knew that something wasn’t right. I heard the rider beside me begin to speak again. I listened intently with my ears angled towards him. “Give us your answer. Will you have peace, or war?” I suddenly became as tense as my master. I heard the soft, menacing words leave the dwarf atop the gate as my blood ran cold. “I will have war.”