7بخش

“Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin’s Day will shine upon the keyhole.”

Durin’s Day?

lt is the start of the Dwarves’ new year, when the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together.

This is ill news.

Summer is passing.

Durin’s Day will soon be upon us.

We still have time.

Time?

For what?

To find the entrance.

We have to be standing in exactly the right spot at exactly the right time.

Then, and only then, can the door be opened.

So this is your purpose, to enter the mountain?

What of it?

There are some who would not deem it wise.

What do you mean?

You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle-earth.

No, you did the same thing.

It’s not like you didn’t do it.

DWALIN: Dori!

Here, take that.

Bombur!

With or without our help, these Dwarves will march on the mountain.

They’re determined to reclaim their homeland.

I do not believe Thorin Oakenshield feels that he is answerable to anyone.

Nor, for that matter, am I.

lt is not me you must answer to.

Lady Galadriel.

Mithrandir.

I had no idea Lord Elrond had sent for you.

MAN: He didn’t.

I did.

Ah.

Saruman.

You’ve been busy of late, my friend.

Tell me, Gandalf did you think these plans and schemes of yours would go unnoticed?

GANDALF: Unnoticed?

No.

I’m simply doing what I feel to be right.

The dragon has long been on your mind.

That is true, my lady.

Smaug owes allegiance to no one.

But if he should side with the enemy a dragon could be used to terrible effect.

What enemy?

Gandalf, the enemy is defeated.

Sauron is vanquished.

He can never regain his full strength.

Gandalf, for 400 years we have lived in peace a hard-won, watchful peace.

Are we?

Are we at peace?

Trolls have come down from the mountains.

They are raiding villages, destroying farms.

Orcs have attacked us on the road.

Hardly a prelude to war.

Always you must meddle looking for trouble where none exists.

Let him speak.

There is something at work beyond the evil of Smaug.

Something far more powerful.

We can remain blind to it, but it will not be ignoring us, that I can promise you.

A sickness lies over the Greenwood.

The woodsmen who live there now call it Mirkwood.

And they say.

Well?

Don’t stop now.

Tell us what the woodsmen say.

They speak of a Necromancer living in Dol Guldur.

A sorcerer who can summon the dead.

That’s absurd.

No such power exists in this world.

This Necromancer is nothing more than a mortal man.

A conjurer dabbling in black magic.

And so I thought too.

But Radagast has seen–

SARUMAN: Radagast?

Do not speak to me of Radagast the Brown.

He’s a foolish fellow.

Well, he’s odd, I grant you.

He lives a solitary life.

It’s not that.

It’s his excessive consumption of mushrooms.

They’ve addled his brain and yellowed his teeth.

I’ve warned him.

lt is unbefitting one of the lstari to be wandering the woods.

GALADRIEL: You carry something.

lt came to you from Radagast.

He found it in Dol Guldur.

GANDALF: Yes.

GALADRIEL: Show me.

SARUMAN: listen to me.

I would think I was talking to myself for all the attention that he paid.

By all means.

What is that?

A relic of Mordor.

A Morgul Blade.

Made for the Witchking of Angmar.

And buried with him.

When Angmar fell the Men of the North took his body and all that he possessed and sealed it within the High Fells of Rhudaur.

Deep within the rock they buried him in a tomb so dark it would never come to light.

This is not possible.

A powerful spell lies upon those tombs.

They cannot be opened.

What proof do we have this weapon came from Angmar’s grave?

I have none.

Because there is none.

Let us examine what we know.

A single Orc pack has dared to cross the Bruinen.

A dagger from a bygone age has been found.

And a human sorcerer who calls himself “The Necromancer” has taken up residence in a ruined fortress.

It’s not so very much after all.

The question of this Dwarvish company, however, troubles me deeply.

I’m not convinced, Gandalf.

I do not feel I can condone such a quest.

If they’d come to me, I might have spared them this disappointment.

I do not pretend to understand your reason for raising their hopes.

GALADRIEL: They are leaving.

GANDALF: Yes.

GALADRIEL: You knew.

No, I’m afraid there is nothing else for it.

My Lord Elrond.

The Dwarves, they’re gone.

THORIN: Be on your guard.

We’re about to step over the Edge of the Wild.

Balin, you know these paths.

Lead on.

BALIN: Aye.

THORIN: Master Baggins.

I suggest you keep up.

GALADRIEL: You will follow them.

GANDALF: Yes.

GALADRIEL: You are right to help Thorin Oakenshield.

But I fear this quest has set in motion forces we do not yet understand.

The riddle of the Morgul Blade must be answered.

Something moves in the shadows unseen, hidden from our sight.

lt will not show itself.

Not yet.

But every day it grows in strength.

You must be careful.

Mithrandir?

Why the Halfling?

I do not know.

Saruman believes that it is only great power that can hold evil in check.

But that is not what I have found.

I have found it is the small things everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keeps the darkness at bay.

Simple acts of kindness and love.

Why Bilbo Baggins?

Perhaps it is because I’m afraid and he gives me courage.

Do not be afraid, Mithrandir.

You are not alone.

THORIN: Hey!

Hold on!

BILBO: Aah!

DWALIN: Bilbo!

We must find shelter!

Look out!

GLOIN: Look out, brother!

KILI: Hold on!

This is no thunderstorm.

It’s a thunder-battle!

Look!

Well, bless me.

The legends are true.

Giants!

Stone-Giants!

Take cover, you fool!

Hold on!

KILI: What’s happening?

FILI: Grab my hand!

THORIN: Go, go, go!

BALIN: Run!

Get off!

Get off!