A sudden light burst in on the dreamless dark of my mind. My head ached but I seemed relatively unharmed. I opened my eyelids a crack. Two men stood over me.
" Is this the boy?" One asked in a soft drawling voice.
"He is indeed, your Worship."
The first man bent low over me, until his face was barely an inch away from my own. He was a pale, thin man richly dressed with lank dark hair and disconcertingly vivid blue eyes. There seemed to be something not quite right about his face. Something misshaped, crooked- I could not place it.
" He is well enough to stand trial." The man pronounced. The guard looked taken aback
" Are you sure? Shouldn't we -." the guard faltered as the man fixed his cold blue eyes upon him
" I said he is well enough." He answered icily. He took a step towards the guard, looking him straight in the eyes. I saw, or fancied I saw, a brief flicker of dislike travel across face of the guard.
" I do not need advice from a common soldier." The man spoke quietly but every word was heavy with cold anger
"Get him ready"
"Yes, sir" the guard answered, his face expressionless.
The man turned and swept away in a rustle of blood red cloth. Taking me by the shoulder the guard lifted me gently off the ground. My knees felt weak and my head was spinning. The guard let go of me and I stood swaying, like a man who has drunk too much wine.
"Head hurts" I mumbled vaguely. I tried to step forwards but the room seemed to lurch and I had a strange sensation as if I was sinking into the ground. The guard flung out an arm to stop me falling.
" Here" he said gruffly. He gave me a roll of bread and a bottle of water. The water I drank gratefully. The roll was dry and seemed to stick in my throat but when I had finished I found I could stand more firmly and the room came into sharper focus.
I was, as I had expected, in a cell. The first man, whose scarlet robes seemed to drain the colour from his pallid face, stood leaning against the door. He was watching me, his expression unfathomable. The guard beside me was also regarding me- with concern, I thought. Maybe even with pity.
"He's well enough now. Come along, boy." the man by the door broke the silence. The guard took my arm to support me. This seemed to anger the man
" Let him go. I tell you he can walk for himself" He shouted, his voice sounded shrill and unnaturally high. He turned and swept out of the dungeon.
The guard let me go and, stumbling, I began to follow him.
"Boy" the guard laid a hand on my arm and looked at me for a moment. He spoke in a low voice as if afraid of being overheard
" Be careful what you say to Grima Wormtongue," he gestured towards the door through which the man had just left.
"He is a powerful enemy" I gave him a brief nod and stepped out in the corridor. The man, who the guard had called Wormtongue, was disappearing swiftly up the corridor. I tottered after him. He led me up a flight of stairs and through a maze of corridors without glancing once behind him. At last we reached a doorway opening onto a courtyard and he turned to face me.
" Keep up" he said contemptuously" I haven't got all day."
I tried to force my weakened limbs into a faster pace hating him with all my might.
"Oh" he added as an afterthought " and don't try to escape. There are guards everywhere. You wouldn't get far."
I didn't answer. I knew he spoke true and I couldn't escape. I had only to hope that the Lord of the Mark would be merciful.
We crossed the courtyard and climbed the stairs up to the entrance to The Golden Hall. The door warden stopped us at the door.
"The thief here for the trial." Grima snapped annoyed at being delayed.
The door warden gave me a cursory glance and nodded. Together Grima and I entered the throne room.
At first I could see nothing. The room seemed dark and oddly quiet compared with the bustle of the courtyard outside. It was stiflingly hot. As my eyes grew accustomed to the light I saw I was in a vast room with a high vaulted roof. Feeble rays of sunlight glanced down from windows high in the roof. The shadowy pillars I now saw were richly decorated and in the centre of the Hall there was an empty hearth where a fire must once have burned, and a gap in the roof above, a glimpse of the bright blue sky....
Wormtongue pushed me forwards. At the far end of the Hall I saw an old man, the King I supposed, sitting on the throne on a raised dais and… kneeling beside him, a maiden clad in white, her long golden hair shining bright in the gloom. Her name, although I did not know it then, was Eowyn. She was talking in a low voice to the King, a gentle smile playing over her face like a sunbeam. I thought I had never seen a woman more beautiful.
"Here is the boy, my lord, who tried to rob you." Grima's cold voice ripped through the chamber. I shivered. The Lady, Eowyn, stood up slowly and her smile melted like a rainbow fading into a grey empty sky. Her face became grim and set, as if she had closed a door between herself and the rest of the world. She stood very straight. Grima bowed to her
" My Lady Eowyn" There was some hidden irony about the way he spoke those words, that I could not fathom. Eowyn flushed but met his gaze unflinchingly.
The King was looking at me intently
" What is your name, boy?" His tone was kindly and I took heart.
" My name is Laefan, my Lord"
"Where do you live?"
I did not answer. I could not betray the whereabouts of the Gang. I merely shrugged. The King raised his eyebrows.
"Who are your parents?"
"They're dead. They died when orcs attacked my village."
Grima made a sudden movement at my side. I turned to look at him. His face was impassive but I noticed his hands where clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone white.
" An orc attack?" The King seemed puzzled "We have heard no tidings of such an event. Are you sure?"
I looked up to the dais, puzzled. Could they truly have had no news of the attack? I saw Eowyn, regarding me, a gleam of pity showing in her still grey eyes.
"Quite sure, my Lord" I replied.
" My Lord, this is ridiculous!" Grima walked towards the King to stand behind his chair. "Orc attacks! There have been no orc attacks, we would have heard of it."
"But-" I began
" This boy is clearly a liar, my Lord."
" I am not lying," I shouted. Grima rounded upon me. His eyes glittered with malice.
" Perhaps it is I who is lying" He hissed " Is that what you are suggesting?" I opened my mouth to say I thought it very likely but caught the Lady Eowyn's eye. She shook her head.
"No, sir" I replied but my voice shook with anger. Grima smiled a slow cold smile that did not reach his eyes.
"This boy is clearly guilty of attempted theft, of rumour mongering, of trying to cause panic and unrest and endangering the peace of this land, possibly of treason. My Lord, the just sentence for these crimes is death."
"No, you can't do that!" Eowyn cried out. Grima turned towards her his eyebrows raised
"Can't? The Lord Of The Mark may do as he wishes"
Eowyn turned to face Grima, and said coldly
"You misunderstand me. I meant, of course, that you wouldn't." She turned again to the King " He is but a boy, a child."
"He is close to manhood. Why he must be twelve years of age at the very least. He is no innocent." Grima answered smoothly.
" He looks half starved. Who can blame him for stealing?"
"A starving boy may steal a loaf of bread, a few pennies- breaking into the Golden Hall is another matter."
" Uncle" Eowyn spoke with quiet urgency "For my sake, I beg you to have mercy upon him."
Theoden looked between the two confusedly. His wrinkled face was as that of a child, innocent and bemused.
"I-" He began.
"My Lord, you need time to consider" Grima said swiftly. The King closed his mouth obediently. Wormtongue walked to where Eowyn stood and laid a hand on her arm, drawing her away from the King. He spoke in a low voice but I heard him.
"You seem so intent on winning this brat's freedom that perhaps you would be prepared to bargain for it. You know the King will do whatever I wish him to."
"What bargain?" The Lady Eowyn answered coldly, but I saw the fear in her eyes.
"Give me a kiss. One kiss and the brat goes free. No harm in a simple kiss." He edged a little closer towards her. The Lady took a step backwards, on her face a look of utter revulsion.
" I would rather die"
There was a moment's silence. Wormtongue turned away from her abruptly. To my surprise I saw his eyes had tears in them. His face held such a look of misery and self-loathing that for a moment, in spite of everything, I pitied him. For that moment I glimpsed the lonely child inside the bitter man, the angel trapped behind the forked tongue of the serpent.
Then his eye caught mine and his expression hardened into angry resentment. I knew his revenge would fall upon me. A glance at Eowyn's face told me she knew it too
"My Lord" She began before Grima could speak.
"It is not necessary to kill the boy. He is of no importance he could not be a threat to you or the realm. I-"
" I think you have said enough, Eowyn." Wormtongue said coldly, and I saw the malicious gleam in his eye. She stiffened at the over- familiar use of her name. At last Theoden spoke. He mumbled something so quietly that Grima had to stoop over him to hear him.
"My Lord I must beg you to reconsider." His words were soft, gentle and deadly. He bent low over Theoden and began whispering into his ear. I thought I saw a spasm of pain pass over the aged King's face as if there was some terrible struggle going on within him. Soon his face went slack and his eyes became empty once more. He spoke again this time in a loud, clear, though strangely lifeless voice
"Laefan, I hereby sentence you that tomorrow morning, at dawn, thou shalt be taken to a place of execution and there be put to death by the sword."
Wormtongue flashed a triumphant smile at Eowyn. She turned away her face very pale. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I was lead out of the quiet still hall into a clamour of light and sound that was the courtyard and suddenly gazing around at the garish, raucous world around me none of it made any sense, and I laughed long and hard as if I hadn't a care in the world.
"I'm going to die tomorrow" I told the guard genially and then retched.
