Thorin Ironshield's Arc

Chapter 8 of 9

Thorin waited on the courthouse steps as the light turned low. He had sent his answer. Now he watched the tree line for what would come back. The shackles still lay on the bench behind him, three names scratched into wet iron. He kept his hands loose at his sides. Whatever Kellan sent, Thorin meant to meet it standing. They came out of the trees in a slow line. A pack of lean dogs walked at the front, their fur lit in strange neon hues, eyes steady and yellow. Behind them, two figures carried a Sentinel between them on a plank. They set the plank down at Thorin's feet and stepped back. The dogs did not growl. They only watched. Then they turned and slipped back into the trees, taking the carriers with them. Thorin knelt. The Sentinel was breathing, but only just. Both hands were broken. The eyes did not track him. Thorin lifted the man himself and carried him inside, past the bench, to the old stone marker that stood worn and mossy in the courthouse's back hall. He laid the Sentinel there, flat on the cool stone, and folded a cloak under his head. One of three. The cost, paid in full and in front of him. When Thorin came back out, the warning was waiting. Two white foxes sat at the foot of the steps, motionless, fur clean as new snow. Between them, set in the dirt, was Kellan's fox seal pressed into a fresh mound. The foxes did not run. They watched Thorin the way the dogs had watched. He understood. Two left. And the night had not yet come.