“You smell of barrel and river,” Smaug continued, shifting a wing. A cascade of gold spilled down a slope. “And of… hobbit? No. Mezzo hobbit . Un bocconcino.” A little morsel.
The dragon laughed. It was a terrible sound—furnace doors opening. “Lusinghe? From a creature no bigger than my ninth left claw? You amuse me. So I will let you live. For now.” Smaug’s head lowered, curling around a pillar of gold. “But tell me, little shadow. Did the thrush send you? Or the old ravens of the Lonely Mountain? No—you smell of Oakenshield.” The amber eye narrowed. “Thorin lives. How delicious.”
The dragon flew low, belly scraping the lake’s mist. Its voice boomed across the water: “ Cerco il mio uccellino… ” I seek my little bird.
“You think the Arkenstone will unite your dwarves?” the dragon roared. “You think I sleep ? I dream, little thief! I dream of fire from the mountain to the lake, from the lake to the wood, until all the Desolation is truly desolate—and then I will sleep on a bed of ash!” lo.hobbit 2 la desolazione.di.smaug ita
Below, Smaug spread his wings. The great gates of Erebor exploded outward. Laketown’s lookouts saw a second dawn rise over the mountain—a red, hungry light.
Before Bilbo could lie, Smaug reared. The cavern shook. Gold rained like hail.
At the door, the dwarves pulled him out gasping. “Il tesoro?” Thorin demanded. “You smell of barrel and river,” Smaug continued,
“The treasure is still there,” Bilbo coughed. “But so is he. And he’s not happy.”
The mist over the Long Lake was thick as old milk, but Bard the Bowman’s eyes were sharper. From his barge, La Freccia , he watched the distant Mountain—Erebor—loom like a skull. A faint, sulfurous glow pulsed from its flanks.
Bard did not answer. For three nights he had seen it: a flicker of wings, too vast for any bird, circling the peak. The old songs called it Smaug , il Calamità di Fuoco . The Desolation. The dragon laughed
Bard the Bowman nocked an arrow made from a family heirloom, a black shaft forged in the lost city of Dale.
“Bain,” he said quietly, “if I fail, take the barge and go upriver. Do not look back.”
Fine della prima parte.