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Chapter 3 – Unexpected Commands
"But before your mother could plunge the sword through the demon's heart, she shrivelled and shrank, transformin' into a serpent, slitherin' swiftly into the freezin' waters, never to be seen again," Hemery finished her story in a dramatic whisper to a wide-eyed Híli.
"Don't scare the poor lass," Sethie admonished with a quirk to her lips, dumping another load of laundry in a tub of hot water.
Hemery straightened with an innocent look, continuing to iron her petticoats. "It's Mahal's honest truth," she said, shaking her head and pursing thin lips in sober confirmation. "That's why they call it the Snake Fall."
"No, it isn't," Sethie protested. "It's because of the wormwood growing on the riverbank."
"That's what they want you to think." Hemery poked Híli's nose playfully.
Híli was familiar enough with Hemery's judgement to know that they meant Híli's family on her father's side—the Durins.
"What would people do if they knew such a beast dwelled in the serene sweet-water springs of their home?" Hemery challenged.
"They'd be afraid?" Híli asked.
"Correct. They'd be very afraid. In the last ten years that the serpent's been loose, who knows how large it has grown? Comin' and goin' at will through our creeks and rivers, impossible to catch, tormentin' us with its very existence."
The story was an imaginative exaggeration of what had happened, but Hemery felt its truth resonate in her heart.
"Always, she reminds us of where we come from and where our true family is. Do you know what family is, Híli?"
Híli looked up from the dry linens she was folding. "Father says I'm his blood. Family is to have the same blood."
Hemery shook her head, authoritative. "Family are the ones who forgive our mistakes when we show remorse and shelter us when no one else will. The ones who teach us skills of life and let us to grow."
She thought about Hanah, but also about Dwalin. He was not Hemery and Hanah's blood, but he was as much family as their own father had been. Even Fíli, she had to admit, was part of her family. She may not like him very much, but she cared for his well fare like a sister for her brother.
"She also reminds us that our security comes with a price, and we must fight to keep it." Hemery's voice turned soft but firm. "Not to mention that a sound education in sword fightin' is crucial for all women."
"That's enough morality tales for one morning," Sethie said, wiping her hands on her apron. "Miss Híli, you'd better go up to eat with your mother so you're fit for your session with Dwalin this afternoon."
Hemery smiled. "You'll need it." She opened her arms to receive Híli's hug before the girl left, joined by her guard in the corridor outside.
"Miss Hanah will not be pleased if you keep filling that girl's head with nightmares," Sethie warned with a smile. Hemery was not bothered in the least.
"That girl hangs on my word like a bat on a cave ceiling," she replied proudly. "I'll teach her everythin' I know."
"Everything, eh?" Sethie mocked. "Lucky girl."
Hemery threw a wet towel at the maid's head, earning a loud cackling laugh in return as Sethie caught it.
There was a knock on the open door. Hemery turned to see Balin in the opening to the laundry room.
"Miss Skinner," he expressed formally. He was unusually sombre. "You are summoned to court."
Hemery blanched, immediately thinking of the book she presented to Thorin a few weeks ago. She had feared he would see it as crossing the boundary between their cultures. Perhaps he disapproved. Perhaps he hated it. Perhaps he would punish her for her revealing secrets about dwarves for the world to see.
She took a deep breath. She would not assume the worst before hearing what it was about.
"Is somethin' wrong?" she asked calmly.
Balin shook his head with a tense smile. "Nothin' to worry about. Thorin wants you and yer sister's presence for a special hearing. You are to be witnesses and . . . advisors if need be."
He drummed his fingertips on his belt restlessly. It may not have anything to do with her, but he was clearly uneasy.
"Very well," Hem agreed.
She took off her apron and rolled down the long sleeves of her dress, buttoning them at the wrists. The dress was simple and high-necked with only a slight intake at the waist—much like a chambermaid's, except for the dark red colour. Hemery still found it strange how the dress incited more respect than her old tunic and trousers had ever done. Fortunately, the dress was more comfortable.
Sethie tucked back a few wisps of hair into Hemery's knot before letting her join Balin and Bror in the corridor.
"What happened?" Hemery asked as they moved through the halls down to the throne room.
"Border patrol came upon a band of men in the forest to the east. The men drew arms, but were quickly overtaken and seized."
Hemery found this strange. "Why were they arrested?"
"No men residin' in the area would draw swords against dwarven soldiers." He shook his head. "No. We suspect they have come from Blackwater."
Hemery felt like she was sinking, though her feet kept walking, as if separate from her body.
"What for?"
"We don't know. We are goin' to question them now. That's why we want ye there. Yer knowledge of Blackwater might be valuable."
They entered the big hall through a side door. There were no people on the floor except for a row of guards along each wall. On the platform, the thrones were empty. The king and the princes were absent; not even Dis lingered in the gallery. Instead, Balin moved to stand in front of the thrones next to the dwarves Hemery recognized as part of the king's personal guard—Rál, Steig, and Vannur.
Hanah and Fíli appeared by Hemery's side. The older sister took a deep breath.
"This will be interestin'," was all Hanah said.
"Shouldn't Thorin be here?" Hemery asked.
"We don't want our visitors too close," Fíli replied. "If they are what we fear, then we cannot risk them coming into contact with any of us."
"You're here," Hem noted.
"I'm not about to put my—" he stopped himself. "Put Hanah in harms way."
Had he been about to call Hanah his wife? Hemery smirked.
"Thorin's not happy, but there's little he can do," Hanah said, looking up. "The council will not let him within the strangers' reach."
Hemery followed her gaze to the balcony. A group of people were gathered along the railing. She spotted Thorin's and Kíli's dark hair among them. They reminded her of children spying overtly from behind a tree log.
"Where's Híli?" Hem asked.
"Sethie and Nuhir took her to see Dwalin until supper," said Hanah.
Footsteps echoed on the stone. Hemery and everyone one else in the hall turned their focus to the man being ushered forward by four guards.
He was taller than his captors, but looked thoroughly defeated. He walked with slumped shoulders though his hands were untied. His ragged clothes stained dark by damp and dirt increased the sense of dejection. The man looked utterly alone. Hemery almost felt sorry for him.
"One man?" Hemery asked her companions in a whisper.
"The leader," Fíli answered. "He was the first of the five who ordered them to drop their weapons when the soldiers had them cornered. We want the chance to interrogate each individually should the first interaction fail."
The man was brought to a stop twenty feet from Balin.
"I am Balin son of Fundin," he said in a clear, commanding voice travelling the length of the room. "I speak for Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror, King Under the Mountain."
Silence dominated the room, everyone waiting for Balin's instructions.
"Who are you, and why did you attack the king's soldiers?"
"We are hunters—just tryin' to find game to smoke before the frost comes," the man replied.
Hanah turned to whisper to Fíli. "He's from east of Blackwater, but not by much. You can hear it in the a's."
Fíli nodded in agreement.
"What is yer name?" Balin demanded.
The man hesitated almost imperceptibly. "Tarren Low."
"Yer deception is an insult, Mister Low," came Balin's bold accusation. "Ye had no bows, no cargo, no trophies, not even a copper. Clearly, ye're not hunters. And ye're decidedly not merchants nor even thieves."
Tarren Low frowned, but remained silent.
"Five of ye we found, yet six horses grazed in the glade. Six bedrolls. Six cloaks. Where's yer sixth companion?"
"There is no sixth," Tarren Low answered.
These were the first words he spoke while meeting Balin's eyes, which made Hemery believe they were the first sincere words spoken.
"You were lookin' for someone," Hem said as soon as the idea struck her.
Tarren snapped his eyes to her, apprehensive, but said nothing. Balin noticed this.
"Is that true?" he asked, eyes narrowing at Tarren. "Ye don't deny it."
Tarren looked down, refusing to answer.
"Who is it ye seek? Friend or foe?" Balin continued. "Why enter this kingdom in yer pursuit? Is the person to be valued—or feared? Speak."
Balin was running out of steam. If the questions remained unanswered, Hem feared he would resort to threats.
"If you brought a horse for this individual," she speculated, trying to trigger some reaction, some tell, from Tarren, "and a bedroll, and warm clothes, you prioritize their comfort. Comfort equal to your own."
She looked at Balin in silent permission. He nodded shallowly in assurance. Relieved, Hemery took a new breath.
"You seek someone whom you wish to treat well. Someone important, otherwise you'd not risk comin' this close to Erebor." This was easy enough to deduce. Come on, Tarren—show us a sign. Say something, she wished.
Tarren only stared at the stone floor with shoulders slumped, dejected.
Hemery stepped down from the platform, stopping at his level.
"But you're not sure you'll even find this person," she guessed. "That's why you answered in denial about the sixth horse. And you're reluctant to say who because we might find them before you."
Tarren raised his head as if to glare at her, but stopped himself.
There, Hemery thought in triumph. A reaction.
She shared a look with Balin. It was very likely she was right in her assumptions. Now they had something to go on, somewhere to start their own search if Tarren would not talk.
"Apart from general hostility and defiance toward the king's soldiers, you have committed no crime," said Fíli in a benevolent voice. "But you must see why we are interested in your business here."
Fíli was a good mediator, Hemery knew. His friendly manners often assured people where they previously were uncertain.
"Sadly," he continued, apologetic, "due to Erebor's history with the lord of Blackwater, every visitor from the east is forced to suffer scrutiny. Especially those who employ such secrecy. If you answer our questions truthfully and convince us you mean no harm, I see no reason why we should not let you go."
"And if we refuse?" Tarren Low challenged.
"In that case," Balin's stern voice contrasted, "the king has no qualms about detaining ye until ye do."
Hemery looked at Balin. Could he do that? Technically, Tarren Low and his companions had done nothing wrong. Fíli had just said as much. Thorin would not lock them up without a cause, surely?
Tarren seemed to be of a similar opinion.
"You have no right to keep us here," he said, voice raised, taking a step forward.
Immediately, Bror's armoured back appeared in front of Hemery, his axe pointing menacingly at Tarren's chest, forcing him back. Shocked, more from Bror's sudden reaction than fear of Tarren, Hemery retreated to her place beside Hanah and Fíli. Hanah put her arm around her shoulders.
"I'll ask ye one more time," Balin said as the room began to hum with soldiers readying to take Tarren Low down if he so much as breathed in a threatening way.
"It's true then—King Thorin is a tyrant just like all masters," Tarren spat.
Hanah gasped at the insult in shocked fear of what might happen to Mister Low due to his strong language. Hemery in turn winced. He really should know better than to call Thorin a tyrant, she thought.
Balin sighed, knowing communication was dead. "Take him away," he told the guards.
"This is outrageous. You have no right!" Tarren Low's protests echoed as he was removed from the hall.
Hemery, Hanah, and Fíli followed Balin to a room behind the thrones. Thorin and Kíli were already there, waiting.
"He hails from Blackwater," Fíli stated. "That much we know. What we don't know is whether or not he breached our borders under orders from there."
"They're not likely to talk either," Balin predicted. "If and when Brage finds out we are holding them, he'll rile up every man within a hundred miles to protest their arrests. And if Brage has not charged them with some mission, then we're incarcerating innocent men," he finished gravely.
"They're hardly innocent," Thorin grumbled. "No one wears such heavy weaponry unless they plan to use it."
"But did you see his clothes?" Hanah asked. "He's a ranger, not a mercenary."
"They attacked my men," Thorin argued methodically, undeterred.
"Considerin' how dwarves are talked about in Blackwater, it's not surprisin'," Hanah explained.
"You heard him," Fíli said to Thorin, agreeing with Hanah. "They think dwarves are the spawn of evil. There's a chance, however small, they honestly thought they were defending themselves."
"Back to the crucial question, please," Kíli requested. "We need to know why they're here. His refusal to talk says they're definitely hiding something. I think Hem's right—they're looking for someone."
"Perhaps we should find this elusive person on behalf of our guests?" Fíli offered.
Thorin thought a moment before coming to a decision. "Triple the patrols on the border," he told Fíli and Kíli. "If there's someone on my mountain who's not supposed to be here, I want to know."
Thorin held a hard, precise tone Hemery had never heard before.
He turned to Balin. "Continue interrogations until you learn their objective. Alternate between them. Of the five, there must be one who fears another will talk before they do. Or at least dislikes rock and darkness enough to tell us whatever we want to know in order to be let out."
Hanah left first. Hemery could tell by her hard heels on the stone that she did not agree with Thorin's plan, but was not going to argue with him. Balin, Fíli, and Kíli stayed to discuss specifics of patrol duty. Thorin was about to leave when Hemery caught up with him outside the room.
The soldiers had left the throne room; only their own personal guards remained.
"Sire," Hemery said, making him pause. "You'll leave the men in the cells? Without cause?"
"You think I don't have enough cause?" Thorin raised his voice, clearly not happy with being questioned. "Give them a few days without light or heat—we'll find their true purpose here."
Hemery recoiled. "But that's torture," she exclaimed, incredulous.
"Ten years of uncertainty while Fíli's attempted assassination goes unpunished. That is torture," Thorin growled. He pinned her with his steely stare.
"You cannot punish these men for somethin' you cannot prove," Hemery almost whispered, not daring to speak louder.
"A few days of discomfort are trivial. I take the risk gladly if it provides ultimate certainty."
"But— " Hem did not know what to say. She also wanted justice for Fíli, though she had no right to claim it more than Thorin. But the prize could not be the suffering of others. It would be a gross moral transgression, impossible to recover from—impossible to forgive for those who endured it.
"But it's wrong," she managed weakly.
Thorin looked away. He turned as if to leave, but hesitated. His coat grazed the floor as he shifted where he stood. Hemery noticed it was the same coat he used to wear before she left—the one Hanah and their father had made. It was in good shape. He must have had Hanah maintain it for him several times for it to hold together so well and stay vivid in the black leather and white fur.
Hemery used to be proud, knowing the king wore her sister's work. He used to be dependable and righteous in a world full of liars and cowards. But perhaps that was a child's view. Perhaps she had not been allowed to see the real king.
She felt torn. Were Tarren Low's words true? Was Thorin as vengeful and cold as Lady Brage?
Thorin glanced at her over his shoulder. "It will be over soon," he finally said before walking away.