A Tale of Time

Chapter 18: The Days of Not Feeling So Nice

Chapter 18: The Day of Not Feeling So Nice

The boat – from what she can tell – has come to a stop near the port and her concerns begin to grow. All somebody needs to do is lean over the edge and they would almost certainly see the heads of the Dwarves.

The company begin to mumble but Dwalin hushes them. "Ssh. What's he doing?"

Bilbo, who has a hole in the side of his barrel, peeks out through it. He spies on Bard who has left his barge, talking to a man on the dock. "He's talking to someone," he announces. Then Barge gestures to the Dwarves. "He's pointing right at us. Now they're shaking hands."

"What?" Thorin gasps.

"He's selling us out," Dwalin accuses.

"Or bribing somebody," Gailien counters in the man's defence. Bard returns, his footsteps heard by the company. Just as Dwalin is about to give the man a piece of his mind, the company – to their utter shock – suddenly have hundreds of fish being poured over them. Gailien's mouth hangs open, her jaw tucked in as the fish slap against her head, legs, and back. But it quickly shut as the taste from the smell is overbearing on her enhanced senses. All the light she had is now gone and she doesn't dare move, hating every second that the fish rub against her skin.

It is going to take forever to get that stench out of her nose. The only thing that makes this situation a little more so tolerable, is her vivid imagination of what she can assume the other Dwarves' faces are. A king being covered in fish, Dwalin with smoke nearly pouring from his ears, Bilbo likely also thinking about the stench staining their skin.

"Quiet," Bard orders as the Dwarves grumble in protest. "We're approaching the toll gate."

The barge slows down once more and Gailien resists the instinct to push away the fish so she can hear what is going on outside. "Halt!" a new voice commands. "Goods inspection. Papers please! Oh, it's you, Bard!"

"Morning, Percy," bard greets.

"Anything to declare?"

"Nothing. But I am cold and tired, and ready for home."

"You and me both." There is a shuffling of paper before the man called Percy continues. "There we are, all in order."

"Not so fast," another new – almost nasally voice. Outside the barrels, Alfrid, the master's deputy comes stalking out of the shadows. He snatches the paper from Percy. "Consignment of empty barrels from the Woodland Realm. Only they're not empty. Are they Bard? If I recall correctly, you're licensed as a bargeman. Not –" he takes a fish off one of the barrels, revealing the eye of Bombur "-a fisherman."

"That's none of your business," Bard snarls.

"Wrong. It's the Master's business, which makes it my business."

"Oh, come on, Alfrid, have a heat, people need to eat."

"These fish are illegal." He tosses the fish back into the water then turns to one of his henchmen. "Empty the barrels over the side." Gailien's eyes widen as four pairs of footsteps come onto the barge. Two stop right next to hers, causing her stomach to drop. Then she begins to tip backwards along with the barrel. She pushes her arms out as much as she can against the sides to hold herself in place as another barrel next to her is also being tipped while Bard argues with Alfrid.

The next thing she bothers to hear is Alfrid commanding the henchmen to stop as she is already beginning to slide head-first out of the barrel. The barrel flops back into an upright position, the top layer of fish already disappeared but she cannot see any light yet.

"Ever the people's champion, hey, Bard? Protector of the common folk. You might have their favour now, bargeman, but it won't last," Alfrid taunts.