Finally! The Misty Mountains were seemingly just ahead. The journey through Mirkwood had been trying but since the days of the Battle of the Five Armies traffic on the Old Forest Road had increased dramatically due to the rebuilding of both Laketown and Dale. Like someone said, "If you build it they will come, which seems to apply to rebuilding." The Boy managed to exit Mirkwood without facing any true dangers. Now traveling west in the foothills behind the formerly named, Greenwood the Great, and the Misty Mountains he allowed himself to relax his constant state of alertness that helped secure his journey on the Old Forest Road, but was quite fatiguing mentally.
His reason for taking this great journey was also much on his mind as he walked through the foothills, climbing over the lower hills and around the higher. The day had a chill to it but his physical activity caused him to be quite warm. The trees had begun to change, a portent that winter would soon arrive. Bright flames of oranges, yellows and reds inflamed the trees with patches of green where conifers grew. The sounds of the natural world were everywhere, insects buzzing, birds chirping and the honking calls of a flight of geese flying overhead in their V shape. The Boy was counting the number of geese when an incongruous sound interrupted him.
Strange and sharp it sounded. Was it a voice? A call of some type?
He walked up the nearest hill, for it seemed the sound came from the opposite side. The hill was one he would normally have walked around due to it's height and steepness, though it was only lightly covered in trees and nearly bare at the top. Not taking the same precautions he would have while in Mirkwood he passed over the crest of the hill and looked down the other side and stared in disbelief.
A group of what could only be goblins were at the bottom of the hill. Thin and scraggly with bare pates and pointed ears with rags for clothes they carryied primitive but effective looking weapons, spears and crude looking short swords. They had not seen him for they seemed to be having a disagreement of some sort in their strange and unpleasant sounding language.
They were not trying to be quiet but were not speaking as loud as the sound that had attracted him. Just as he had decided to move back from and out of their sight he heard the sound that had first attracted him and this time it was to his right. It's source was a goblin moving quickly up the hill and what he was hearing was the goblin alerting his compatriots he had seen the Boy.
The Boy felt a panic like he'd never felt before, it was a though his heart stopped when he saw the goblin on the hill point toward him and shout in it's loathsome language. The Boy turned and ran, ran as fast as he could, faster than even he thought possible, but it wasn't fast enough for goblins are fast, even with their shorter legs. While the goblins below ran around the base of the hill hoping to catch him coming down; the other took to chasing him into the spears of the others.
Slow at running but not slow the Boy made a turn toward the east and ran down the hill as fast as the terrain and obstacles would allow him hoping to use the hill to delay the other goblins in the race for his life. The goblin on the hill with him followed him with greater ease than he'd expected or hoped for. It dodged the trees and obstacles with an inelegant but effective coordination and was close behind the running lad.
The Boy was shortly feeling a fatigue in his legs and his chest was pounding with his thumping heart working harder than ever in his life. Fear was keeping him going and this only grew greater as the shouts of the lower goblins reached his ears as they rounded the hill and spied their ally hot on the boy's heels.
Now running between and around the hills the Boy could feel his stamina fading as he ran for his life. He knew he would have to stop or he would collapse and be an easy target for a goblin spear in the back. Up ahead he spotted a cluster of white birches; not ideal for climbing because of their lack of girth, but he could think of no other option. The yells of the goblin cluster was growing louder as pursuers were getting close enough to pull him down if he didn't act. He could hear the slaps of the goblin's feet and knew he was only a few steps away capture.
The Boy, threw off his pack hoping to slow the goblin or better yet trip him up. The canvas bag hit the ground bouncing and rolling and spilling it's contents into the grass. The goblin stopped suddenly making a quick scan for anything valuable. Deciding nothing was valuable he resumed the chase of the golden-haired boy who was now climbing a tree thanks to the few seconds gained. The goblin grinned hideously and trotted to the base of the tree.
The Boy reached the cluster of birch trees and leaped onto the thickest of them and wrapping his arms around the trunk while gripping the tree with his feet and pushed himself upward. In this inchworm fashion he moved up the white trunk of the tree. Realizing the reach of the spears would be considerable he moved over half way to the top to a point where the trunk began to bend from his weight.
His pursuer arrived first and held up his spear threateningly until the others arrived when he pointed up at the Boy and began laughing, at least it sounded like a laugh if broken pieces of glass could laugh. The Boy's ears burned when he heard the goblins all laughing at him below the tree. They hadn't even bothered to point their nasty spears his way.
The lad changed his grip and held on tightly to the trunk with hands, arms and legs. He closed his eyes and waited for a spear in the back.
The goblins, it would seem, had decided to take him alive. A crude but effective rope was produced from somewhere along with an iron hook which was quickly attached to the rope. His chaser took the rope and hook and letting out a few feet of length of the rope twirled the hook over his head and with seemingly well practiced ease tossed the hook above the Boy and into the branches of the tree. Satisfied with his throw, the goblin retrieved his spear and stood guard at the base of the tree. The other goblins took up the rope and pulled. At first the tree shuddered in protest but then began to bend to the tugging of the goblins. Each tug bent the tree lower a few inches at a time.
Revio opened his eyes and looked down to see the goblins pulling his birch sanctuary lower and lower. He was trying to decide if it were better to die or be taken prisoner and loosened his grip preparing to drop among the goblins and fight for his life; the timing couldn't have been worse. Just then he heard the goblin guarding the base of the tree make a a kind of squeaking shout and drop to ground with an arrow sprouting from his back. By this time the Boy was a mere foot, at best, above the goblins. The three goblins were looking around for the source of the arrow so the tugging had ceased when an odd twanging sound came from behind them and all three fell, pierced by the same type of arrow that had killed the other. All three fell to the ground face down.
As they went limp the rope was freed from cold dead hands allowing the tree to spring upward and return to it's full height. The tree launched him forward, throwing him a distance equal to the height of the tree and into a thicket of thorns tearing his clothes and scratching any uncovered skin as he crashed to the ground in a heap. His breath was knocked from him and he lay helpless and gasping to breathe in the midst of the thicket.
A shadow crossed over his prone body and he looked up to see an elf standing over him. A strong hand grabbed at the Boy's shirt and pulled him easily up and out from the thicket and the thorns piercing him.
