4بخش

Come on.

I don’t believe it.

We’re in the cellars!

You were supposed to be leading us out, not further in!

I know what I’m doing!

Shh!

This way!

This way!

BILBO: Everyone climb into the barrels quickly.

DWALIN: Are you mad?

They’ll find us.

BILBO: No, no.

They won’t, I promise you.

Please, please.

You must trust me.

Do as he says.

DWALIN: Move your big ginger head.

Bifur, get in the barrel!

Move!

DORI: Everyone’s in.

What do we do now?

Hold your breath.

BOFUR: Hold my breath?

What do you mean?

Where is the Keeper of the Keys?

Well done, Master Baggins.

Go!

Come on, let’s go!

Hold on!

FILI: Bilbo!

BOFUR: Hang on!

ORI: Help!

DORI: Ori!

THORIN: No!

BOFUR: Watch out!

There’s Ores!

THORIN: Get under the bridge!

DWALIN: Die!

Kili!

Kili.

Kili!

Nori!

THORIN: Cut the log!

DWALIN: Bombu r!

Tauriel.

BOLG: Oh, it’s you!

Why am I here, Gandalf?

Trust me, Radagast.

I would not have called you here without good reason.

This is not a nice place to meet.

No.

It is not.

These are dark spells, Gandalf.

Old and full of hate.

Who’s buried here?

If he had a name, it’s long since been lost.

He would have been known only as a servant of evil.

One of a number.

One of nine.

RADAGAST: Why now, Gandalf?

I don’t understand.

GANDALF: The Ringwraiths have been summoned to Dol Guldur.

But it cannot be the Necromancer.

A human sorcerer could not summon such evil.

Who said it was human?

The Nine only answer to one master.

We’ve been blind, Radagast.

And in our blindness the Enemy has returned.

He is summoning his servants.

Azog the Defiler is no ordinary hunter.

He is a commander.

A commander of legions.

The Enemy is preparing for war.

It will begin in the East.

His mind is set upon that mountain.

Where are you going?

To rejoin the others.

Gandalf.

I started this.

I cannot forsake them.

They are in grave danger.

If what you say is true the world is in grave danger.

The power in that fortress will only grow stronger.

You want me to cast my friends aside?

THORIN: Anything behind us?

BALIN: Not that I can see.

BOFUR: I think we’ve outrun the Ores.

THORIN: Not for long.

We’ve lost the current.

Bombur’s half drowned.

Make for the shore!

Aye.

THORIN: Come on, let’s go!

OIN: Gloin, help me, my brother.

DWALIN: Come on, lift yourself.

Come on!

BOFUR: Come on, you big lump, you!

I’m fine.

It’s nothing.

On your feet.

Kilt’s wounded.

His leg needs binding.

There’s an Orc pack on our tail.

We keep moving.

BALIN: To where?

To the mountain.

We’re so close.

A lake lies between us and that mountain.

We have no way to cross it.

So then we go around.

The Orcs will run us down, as sure as daylight.

We’ve no weapons to defend ourselves.

Bind his leg, quickly.

You have two minutes.

BARD: Do it again and you’re dead.

BALIN: Excuse me but you’re from Lake-town, if I’m not mistaken.

That barge over there it wouldn’t be available for hire, by any chance?

What makes you think I would help you?

Those boots have seen better days as has that coat.

No doubt you have some hungry mouths to feed.

How many bairns?

A boy and two girls.

And your wife, I imagine she’s a beauty.

BARD: Aye.

She was.

I’m sorry.

I didn’t mean to–

Oh, come on, come on.

Enough of the niceties.

What’s your hurry?

What’s it to you?

I would like to know who you are and what you are doing in these lands.

We are simple merchants from the Blue Mountains journeying to see our kin in the Iron Hills.