Nolan Jareth's Arc

Chapter 4 of 4

Nolan walked north with the broken hilt wrapped in cloth. His leg held, but the road climbed into hills where the trees thinned. He kept his hand near the useless steel on his back. A knight with no blade was just a man in heavy armor. He knew it, and so did whatever watched him from the rocks. Elara caught up to him by midday. She had her satchel and a jar of crushed blue petals. "You left before I finished gathering," she said. "Thorin's coming too. He heard a smith up here and wanted to see the forge." "I travel alone." Nolan did not slow. "You travel badly." She pointed to the ridge above. "There are bear tracks all over that pass. Fresh. You want to meet one with a handle?" Thorin came down the slope then, axe over his shoulder, red beard braided tight. The dwarf had fought spiders beside Nolan at the bloom. He planted his boots and looked Nolan over. "Still breathing. Good." He nodded at the wrapped hilt. "Got your scrap. Now you need muscle to keep it." "I don't need an escort," Nolan said. "Didn't offer one." Thorin kept walking past him. "Forge is this way. Coming or not." Nolan opened his mouth to send them both back. Then the brush cracked above the pass. A bear rose from the rocks, huge and scarred, blocking the only path north. It swung its head toward them and roared. Nolan drew the broken sword out of habit. The jagged steel was shorter than his forearm. The bear charged. He had no reach, no point, nothing to stop it. "Down!" Elara flung the jar. It shattered on the bear's face. Blue pulp burst across its eyes. The bear reeled, pawing at its snout, blind and screaming. Thorin ran in low. His axe bit deep into the bear's hind leg. The beast turned on him. That was the gap. Nolan drove the broken hilt into the bear's throat with both hands. He pushed until the steel sank past the rust. The bear shuddered and dropped. They stood over it, breathing hard. Nolan's hands shook on the bloody handle. Alone, he would be dead on the rocks. He knew it plainly now. "Still want to walk alone?" Elara wiped her hands on her robe. Nolan looked at the dwarf, then the healer. He had driven off every helper before this. The habit had nearly killed him twice. "No," he said. The word came out rough. "Walk with me to the smith." Thorin grunted and pulled his axe free. "About time." They climbed the pass together. Past the dead bear, the hills opened. Smoke rose from a stone chimney below. A forge. Nolan tightened his grip on the broken hilt. He still had the last piece of his blade. Now he had two people to help him carry it there.