Chapter Fifteen
January 29th
Morning
As Aerio strode away, Neal watched the elf leave, and then glanced at the now-reclining warg across the fire. Apparently resigned to this strange new form of supervision, Neal turned his attention back to Sev and snorted softly.
"You are an unusual healer," he said. "You can carve neat little pieces out of a man, and then sew them back together just as neatly."
"I would prefer there be no hurt at all," Sev said firmly. "Neither giving nor healing. But men are not content to let well enough alone, it often seems."
Neal's smile faded, and he looked down at his younger brother, at last soundly asleep from the warmth of fire and blankets. "No," he said softly. "Sometimes we don't." Then he raised his head and his blue eyes held a sudden fearful intensity as he looked at Sev and Anardil.
"What will happen to us, now?" he asked.
"You will leave," said Anardil, as he sank down to rest beside Sev. "Or at least those who are permitted. The rest depends on what the Rangers decide, once they have heard the story from all sides. Your captain is responsible for the actions of his men."
Neal's gaze flickered and returned to Evan's sleeping form. Carefully he reached and tucked an edge of blanket more securely around the boy's shoulders.
"Evan won't be able to ride with that broken leg ... I don't know what we'll do. The cap'n is taking all this hard." He sighed. "I wish we could just go home."
A brief frown creased Neal's brow, a boyish face cast on the bones of manhood. He did not meet Sev's eyes as he added, "And I wish we had never met you. Any of you."
"The feeling is mutual," Sev replied dryly, and clasped her hands on her knee.
Warg raised her head from the paw she was licking intently and muttered something about manners; but seeing the boy made no move, she returned to her grooming.
Neal did not immediately reply, his hand again straying to his brother's shoulder. There could not be more than four or five years difference between them, but both at that moment appeared painfully young.
"Evan said you were ... kind to him." Neal looked at Sev from beneath lowered brows. "And also kind to the uruk. How could you do that?"
Sev stiffened, but the question came not as an accusation, but in genuine tones of puzzlement. There were no shadows of anger in the youth's expression, nothing but the bone-tiredness that mirrored her own.
"As a healer it is my duty to help people," Sev said. "Evan and Nik were both people in need of help."
"People." It seemed Neal was tasting the word to see if it pleased him or not, then his look sharpened. "Then tell me, healer lady. Are all orcs people?"
Sev felt Anardil stir at his words and reached out to clasp the ex-Ranger's fingers. "No," she replied firmly. "Even Gubbitch, who leads these orcs, allows that most will never be more than brutal beasts."
When she said no more, Neal looked down, then turned his attention to Anardil. "You said none of these orcs wanted to kill us. That they knew we were here and stayed away." He paused and shook his head with a soft snort. "Makes a man feel like a complete fool, to know our quarry was watching us all along."
Neither Anardil nor Sev replied, and Neal wandered another moment in the maze of his thoughts. His young face appeared pinched and tired, but he would not yet let himself find the rest his brother had. Too many puzzles tangled in his head, and the pieces that would give them recognizable shape might never come to hand.
"Now Oren is dead," he said softly. He absently caressed his throat where Russ' great hand had lifted him bodily off the ground. "And I should be dead. And Landis is dead, and should not be. And none of it was on account of orcs. We did it all to ourselves."
His shoulders slumped as Neal propped his elbows on his knees and looked at Anardil with an expression of infinite weariness. "How did it all go so wrong?"
"People made mistakes," Anardil replied quietly, tightening his clasp of Sev's fingers in a small but somehow protective gesture.
"Aye," Neal said, and sighed. "You know, when I told the bear-man that I was the one who hurt his Uruk friend's head, not Grady ... he just thanked me for telling him. I thought he would be angry, but he simply ... listened. Funny. It reminded me of our father when one of us had done something stupid and got caught in a lie."
Neal was quiet a moment and then said, "Our father was a blacksmith. Did you know that? He could make anything from hoof picks to iron wagon tires. And Mother was a healer. Evan has her touch..."
"Perhaps he should get some schooling," Anardil said.
"Aye." Once more Neal glanced at his slumbering brother, and his expression softened. "He dreams ... I don't want to know what he dreams, but it wakes him up at night."
Sev stirred and said, "He had a nightmare last night. I sat with him until he was fully awake." Meeting his eyes, she added, "He dreamed you were dead."
Neal blinked then sat back, hands falling in his lap. "Maybe it is time," he said. "Whatever I do, he deserves a trade and a good life."
Warg moved in her place beyond the fire, cocked her head, and stood up to face the narrow path leading away to the south.
"Someone's coming," she said. Lifting her nose and sniffing, she added with a sharp-toothed grin, "And it smells like they brought breakfast."
Trotting off into the woods, Warg was gone only a few minutes before she returned leading the little orc Titch, Gubbitch's messenger to the Troll. Behind him walked the hobbit Erin's fat old horse, Caranroch, laden with several sacks and two bulging baskets, which Sev's growling stomach hoped were filled with several hobbit size breakfasts. The soup Darien's men had shared not long ago had only served to awaken her appetite for a real meal. Perched before those enormous packs was the green-eyed hobbit, Milo, who appeared too occupied with controlling his horse to notice that he had arrived at his destination. And following unexpectedly behind Milo was Halbarad, the Burping Troll's captain of Rangers.
As those about the fire stood, Hal kicked his horse into a snow-spattering trot, and gave a whoop of joy. Then he leaped from the saddle and skidded to a halt in front of Sevilodorf, blue-green eyes raking her from head to foot, but the scolding she expected did not come.
"Blessed Valar," Hal exclaimed. "I feared the worst -."
And in the next moment Sev found herself smothered in a rib-cracking embrace. As quickly he let go and stepped back, and his gaze swept those around. He exchanged nods with Anardil, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at Neal watching warily from beside the fire, and Evan awakening to blink suspiciously at the newcomer. Coming back to Sev, Hal's jaw tightened and Sev knew he was looking at the bruise on her face.
"How badly are you hurt?"
"A bruise. A headache." Sev pulled her braid around to look at the grimy length of hair and made a face. "And I would very much like a hot bath and breakfast. Not necessarily in that order."
Halbarad managed a dry huff of laughter and his shoulders seemed to ease. If Sev still possessed that spark of spirit, then perhaps things were not as ill as had seemed. Now Milo was thudding up behind, wrestling the red horse's reins as the animal took the slower pace as an excuse to swing its head around towards the baskets it bore.
"I'm afraid a bath is out of my hands, lady," said Halbarad with a faint smile. "But the hobbit lasses made absolutely certain we brought breakfast."
"Stop that!" Milo cried, and swatted at the horse, who seemed intent on turning around and climbing onto its own back. "This is not horse food!"
"Trust the hobbits for practical thinking," said Sev with relief.
Then from across the clearing Gambesul appeared to help Milo with his horse management and at his heels Elros jogged to a halt, silently greeting his captain's arrival. Meeting Elros' nod with one of his own, Halbarad's look turned sober.
"Now I would be pleased if someone would tell me what the blazes happened here, and then direct me to who the architect of this fiasco is. I would like to have a few words with him."
"That would be Darien," said Elros. He nodded towards the tall, dark-haired man who worked with the party of gravediggers near the far tree line. "Come, Bob and I will fill you in."
xxxxxx
The clever hands of the hobbit lasses were well in evidence, once the baskets and bags had been unloaded. In the sacks were found yards of bandaging, enough cotton wool to stuff a small pillow, and multiple jars of salves and ointments. Also a little packet of needles and silk thread, obviously for suturing the various wounds or injuries the lasses had feared might be in need of mending.
"They think they know us," said Aerio with a smirk, as he sat down by the fire.
"They know what to expect from us," Sev replied wryly.
She had her attention firmly locked on the baskets, from which she and Gambesul were pulling carefully wrapped parcels. Bread, muffins, two large sealed crocks of thick stew, cold chicken, sliced cold venison roast, a half-wheel each of two kinds of cheese, a whole mincemeat pie, and a corked jar of buttermilk were among the many culinary treasures they withdrew.
"They knew you would be hungry, at least!" said Milo with a cheeky grin as he handed Aerio a chicken leg. "Heaven knows you big folks never think of things like food. Lots of sharp pointy objects, but not so much as a sandwich among you."
He clicked his tongue in hobbity dismay, though his eyes twinkled mischievously.
"What's Hal doing here?" Sev asked, as she tasted a sample of the stew on her finger. "I thought he wasn't due home from Henneth Annûn until this afternoon."
"Oh, you know how he and Elanna are." Milo gave a theatrical sigh. "They can't bear to be parted. So, as soon as he got done with all those ranger things and meetings and such, he bid Lord Faramir good night and came home. He arrived after dark, a more soggy and miserable thing you never saw." Grinning again, the hobbit added, "But one smile from his lady love warmed him right up, I'd guess."
Sev snorted. "As if you and Camellia are so casual about your courtship."
"Love is not to be trifled with!" Milo replied smugly. "Oh, say, there's a little jar of honey in the bottom there, be careful not to spill."
"What time did Titch reach you?" asked Sev. "And what time did you leave?"
"Goodness, I don't really know," said Milo, brow furrowing in thought. "But it was very late. We were all abed, windows barred and everything. Then suddenly there he was bashing on the doors and howling at the windows, and scared us near to death. Hal came running out in his nightshirt with a sword, and Anoriath came running in her nightie with a sword and her belly out to here - And once we heard what happened, why, you know how Meri is. She had Erin, Camellia and me all running like we carried the post, getting things ready. We didn't know if you folks would need feeding or bandaging or both, so we tried to cover all eventualities."
Pouring the stew into a tin pot the hobbit lasses had also tied onto the load, Sev felt her stomach growl vehemently. "You did well."
"Splendid!" Milo smiled from ear to ear, then scooped up a muffin and sprang to his feet. "I'm going to get Russ and Nik; I know they must be famished, too!"
xxxxxx
There was food a-plenty, once the baskets were unpacked and everything laid out on the kitchen towels it had been packed in. The tin pot bubbled, a teakettle steamed, and Gambesul carried wooden bowls of stew with bread over to where the Rangers now sat in conference with Darien at a separate campfire. The dreary work of grave digging also was halted, as the workers came to share in the bounty sent from the Burping Troll. The stew would only go so far, but there was enough of everything else that each of Darien's men at least got a fat muffin or a sandwich, in recompense for the soup they had shared earlier. The teakettle was refilled twice again, as tin cups were emptied and hopeful, chilled faces wished for more.
For perhaps the first time since last night Russ the Beorning began to feel truly warm, and gladly nursed a cup of hot tea in his massive fingers, as he heated another apple muffin beside the coals. Beside him Nik chortled happily as he tossed raisins in his mouth - another treat found amongst the eatables. Within moments he and Milo got in a contest to see who could toss raisins the highest and still catch them in their mouths, and then began trying to lob them in each other's.
From several yards away, Darien watched this display, and the woman's accompanying motherly scolding, and wondered that his capacity for astonishment was utterly dead. That a hobbit and a however-undersized uruk-hai could sit companionably together and engage in such foolishness, whilst several elves laughed at them both, defied every belief he had ... and yet there it was. Everything he had known, every understanding he had ever embraced had been turned inside out. How was a man to know his path or find his way, if even the certainty that Orcs were merciless creatures of Man's oldest enemy would be proven false? How could he lead men in a task that had been their truth and their recompense for all that was so terribly lost, if the conviction of their foe's evil was no longer to be trusted? And how could he believe what his own eyes told him; that these particular orcs, these ugly, scarred, ungraceful creatures who even now clumped about the clearing munching clean white slices of bread, were not his enemy at all?
The orc leader himself had laughed out loud at the idea that the race of orcs was any less than mortally dangerous. But here exception had proved the rule and four men lay dead, not because of orcs, but because he, Darien, had turned from the right path the moment they approached the woman in the barn with deception and lies. Grady had simply sealed their doom. Landis had wished his death to be atonement enough ... somewhere in the darkness of Darien's heart he wished the atonement could have been his own.
The woman came to their fire at Halbarad's quiet request, and with Elros and Anardil sitting to either side answered questions about her experiences of the night. Elros and Bob had already briefed their captain on the details, so now Halbarad merely asked a few low-voiced questions of confirmation.
When finished, she said, "I wish this to end here. I want this to be the end of it."
Nodding, Halbarad said, "I understand. I must make a report of this to Lord Faramir, since we have four dead men connected to your abduction. But I believe my account will suffice in your behalf, and I will be certain your wishes are clearly stated."
Narrow-eyed, Sev said, "I will not be made to retell this story yet again, in front of some stuffy chamber full of over-dressed lords and pompous fools."
"Nay, lady," said Halbarad gently, and gave her a brief smile. "Rest you now, soon we shall go home."
Giving a curt nod, she arose and went back among her friends. Never once did she look Darien's way, but her silent shunning was condemnation enough. Although her one-armed companion seemed willing to offer courtesy to the rest of Darien's men, particularly the two youngest, Neal and Evan, Darien accepted the silent venom in the man's eyes. He had wronged a good woman grievously, and the blame for every bruise and misuse was wholly his, for he had allowed, nay, condoned her abduction.
Thus Darien spoke no word but the truth, and offered nothing but bare facts and acceptance of blame. He made no plea in the way of defense or justification, as the woman's companions and then several of his own men offered their own accounts of events. Most of his company now simply seemed very weary and very confused; relief was the greatest emotion seen as Halbarad dismissed each after his statement. The bear-man also came to speak in slow, rumbling tones about his slaying of the man, Oren. There seemed genuine regret in his quiet demeanor, balanced by Monroe's surprising assertion that he had overheard Oren forgiving Russ, accepting his death as simply a fate Oren had recklessly brought on himself. With Russ still present, Halbarad listened to the faltering tale of the worried little uruk, Nik - Ranger and Beorning both coaxing words from him.
Then as men rested, ate, and returned to the business of finishing graves, the Sun rose at last above the jagged jaws of the Ephel Dúath. In that golden light the snow began to melt and the naked trees spattered a fast tattoo of thawing slush. A thin haze of golden steam rose from the sodden clearing as slow warmth crept back into the world. Finally, Halbarad, captain of Rangers, was left pondering the most unlikely tangle of events he had seen in many a year.
Sitting now only with the leader of the men who had started this mess, and the man's silent, dark-skinned comrade, Horus, Halbarad felt pity for his plight. Darien freely took upon himself all the responsibility, as was his due. He remained the only one alive of the three who had waylaid Sevilodorf. The others had broken no law for none protected orcs and Sev had clearly stated her wish not to seek justice against them, for whatever peripheral part they might have played in her captivity. If it were within Halbarad's remit he would send this man on his way. Justice could not make him suffer any more than he already obviously did. Darien stared dull-eyed at his own boots, a man broken and bereft, guilty in his own mind for the deaths of his friends in what he now accepted was a misguided course.
Finally Hal said, "As you have heard, Sevilodorf does not wish to press a suit against you. By the words of your own men, Russ the Beorning is exonerated for having struck in self-defense. These things I can report to Lord Faramir readily enough and the matter will undoubtedly rest there. But the rest of it ..." The Ranger sighed deeply. "How can I explain that an Uruk-hai slew your man Grady, in defense of the woman you kidnapped? There is simply no precedence for such a case."
Shaking his head in regret, Halbarad made the only decision open to him; "While your men can go free, you and Nik must go to the steward for his judgment."
"The uruk?" Darien suddenly looked up at the ranger in stunned disbelief.
Both men glanced aside as Russ, having heard Halbarad's words from his seat by the other fire, rose to ominous height. Nik stood swiftly beside him, and the two moved closer. However, Halbarad simply continued his thought.
"Of course," Halbarad explained evenly. "This matter cannot be dismissed as easily as Russ' self-defense. If anyone but Nik had struck the fatal blow, if Sev herself had put a knife in the man ... but it was an orc who killed a man and that is not a secret kept when this many people are privy to it. Once word got out, the hue and cry would be deafening. And there is no untangling the fact of Sev's kidnapping from the fact of Grady's death. Thus the steward or the king must give a ruling on Nik's killing of Grady in defense of Sevilodorf."
"Then you risk the same crime as mine," Darien exclaimed in dismay. Too well he recalled what each one of these people had just gone through to save the orc, and what the woman, Sevilodorf had endured to protect him. "You'll put an innocent life in peril for a greater cause. Nik killed Grady, and we accept it was justifiable, but how many who have not been here and seen the truth will agree? There are thousands of years of evidence of orcs' unbridled savagery towards men and not one single incident in all that time to prove otherwise." Darien's eyes flashed suddenly with pale blue fire.
"Faramir is a fair man and a sound judge," the Ranger responded. "And a ruling of this nature must go to him, and then to the king. I have not authority enough to make it. You must understand; judgment is essential if our orcs are to be recognized and extended the protection of the crown. Your actions have made it clear that we must seek such rights for them."
"Your 'justice' will see the orc - Nik - dead as surely as any that I have killed," Darien argued, wondering again at the strange behavior of these people. "I'm afraid I fail to understand. Did you not just speak of the lack of precedent? How can you hope that this - that Nik has any chance of justice at all?"
Horus broke his long silence to add his voice; "He would not even survive a night as a prisoner in the steward's jail."
Halbarad glanced at this very foreign-looking man and speculated briefly on how he would know such a thing.
"Aye," Darien nodded. "And if you do not have the authority to save a life you hold as innocent, then you have no authority at all."
"What would you have me do?" Halbarad turned his full attention back to Darien and his voice hardened. "Sweep this all under a rock? Pretend nothing happened and leave these orcs with no more rights than animals? They are people!"
"And I have accepted that," Darien stated flatly. "But only because of what I have seen and experienced. No one could have ever persuaded me by words alone, never."
Eyes narrowing speculatively, Halbarad said, "Then I repeat, what would you have me do?"
"Why, it would take a formal petition at the very least, to even begin to prepare to pave the way. You would need credible witnesses, sworn statements, your own testimony as a captain of Rangers."
"Just so," Halbarad replied. "And what would be your part in this endeavor? Will you speak or remain silent?"
Darien paused a long moment, balancing on the brink of what he was preparing himself to do. He had devoted his life, and if necessary his death to destruction of an evil possibly as old as mankind, or as much of that evil as mortal means could accomplish. Yet if this must be his personal recompense for, at the very least, Sevilodorf's suffering and Landis' tragic death, so be it. He glanced once at Horus' steady, supportive gaze and was ready.
"I have your word?" Darien said, meeting the Ranger's blue-green stare steadily. "My men are free to go, without reprisal or retribution by any?"
"Yes," Halbarad replied firmly.
"Very well," Darien said. "If you are bent on this course, what I can do, will do, is take your petition for their rights and sue for it to the steward, and to the king if necessary. I will confess my crime willingly, and coming from one guilty of what I have done, my appeal may carry some weight. My men are dead or vilified because you value these orcs; for you to send one to almost certain death would be a mockery. First get the law. Without it there can be no certainty of justice. And without it other men may suffer the same fate as us. How else are they to know that not all orcs are murderous beasts to be slaughtered? "
Halbarad stared into the distance while he thought over these words. There was a risk to Nik, he had to admit. He turned his gaze on the bandaged uruk standing beside the giant Beorning. Russ clearly did not want to let Nik go. The situation could get ugly, bringing friends into conflict. Hal had earned his position through his sound judgment and good sense. As he searched within himself for wisdom, his eyes roamed over to the elves. Celebsul was watching quietly. What would he do, the elven sage, if the choice were his? Hal did not need to ask. He knew. Blind justice served no one. Returning his attention to Darien, Halbarad realized that the man no longer seemed broken, but stared back earnestly at the Ranger. Darien had found something worth going on for. Halbarad would not deny him that.
"Very well," the Ranger said.
Then he stood and gave a piercing whistle. With expressions of wary curiosity men drew near, until all Darien's band was within hearing distance.
When certain he had their attention, Halbarad announced. "Darien will go before the steward to confess his guilt as the sole survivor of the three who kidnapped Sevilodorf. The rest of you men are free to go where you will. Darien will also present a petition that I will draw up to bring our orcs within the justice and laws of the realm, giving them protective rights as the king's subjects. Meanwhile, Nik will remain under the protection of Russ."
Turning to look at Nik directly, Halbarad said gently, "This judgment will hold for a year and a day. Within that time you must present yourself before the steward so he may make a final ruling upon this situation."
Russ, who had remained silent throughout this exchange groaned and shook his head. Again his world had changed. Stewards and Kings, laws and precedents, judgments and rights, it was all too much. It seemed destined to invade his life and destroy his peace, even here, so far from anyplace where it seemed rulings or petitions would be necessary. Deep within, he longed for the quiet of his own hearth or the peaceful heights of the windswept mountains.
"I do not understand why Nik alone must go to meet with this steward person," Russ said finally. "It would seem to me that all involved must attend. If simple writs and petitions are enough for the others, then why must it be different for Nik? Will the Steward not wish to question all that are involved? And if Nik gives a different accounting of the events, what then? Whose word will he take? How will he know who speaks the truth and who seeks to hide it?"
Russ lifted his arm and pointed at Darien. "I tell you now that while these men seem repentant enough while they are hungry and tired and beaten, even a wounded jackal may appear tame if his hurt is serious, but when he regains his strength he will still bite the very hand that feeds him. While the Steward may be just and fair and worthy, these men here have shown me nothing of the kind. I do not trust them. In a year and a day many things may change, and the hearts and minds of men are the most fickle of all. What assurance do you give that in that time their stories will not change? How long will it be before hatred of all Nik's kind is rekindled within them? A week? A month? A year and a day?"
Russ' words echoed across the clearing. No sound was heard for a time but the crackling of the fires and the stamp of a horse's hoof from the picket lines. Heaving a great sigh, and lowering his voice to a rumble, Russ went on.
"No, if these others who are admittedly guilty of breaking the King's laws are allowed to go free, then so must Nik be allowed to go free. You say they are not guilty. Why? Because they were only following their master's orders? Could not the same be said of every orc and man who fought under the banners of the two towers? Are they innocent as well? Every one of these men who did not intervene, everyone who stood ready to take up arms against Elros and the others, everyone who stood aside when the one called Grady beat Sevilodorf, every…single…one of them are as guilty as if they committed the act themselves."
Russ pointed a large finger at the gathered men. "Unless all who are concerned are ordered to attend this ruling you speak of, then neither shall Nik, and in a year and a day you may come looking, but we shall not be found. For we will have gone to places high in the Misty Mountains or deep in the Greenwood where I and my kind are held in esteem and in neither place will you be able to find us. That is MY judgment. What say you?"
Halbarad stood stunned. Few questioned the words of the King's men, but the Captain of the Rangers realized that there was truth in Russ' words. The law should apply to all; but at this moment, Hal was only too aware it did not. He had no authority to order the men to appear before Prince Faramir for their attack on Nik. The law did not cover attacks on orcs. In fact, orc killers were customarily lauded as heroes. The only recognized crime that had taken place was kidnapping, but Sev had made it clear she would not bring suit against those who were merely guilty by association, and without her the sort of case Russ wished to prosecute simply could not happen. First get the law, Darien had said. But for such a law to have any meaning, it needed to find Nik guiltless, and unless Hal could, without reservation, guarantee Nik's acquittal, Russ would have none of it. The Ranger felt his wits beginning to run in circles. For a weary moment, Hal thought longingly of a "normal" posting. One that did not include orcs, wargs, balrogs, or Beornings.
Running a hand through his hair, Halbarad began to shake his head. Then the young man near the injured boy rose and balanced himself unsteadily, mindful of his wrenched ankle.
Looking at Halbarad he said in a clear voice, "I, Neal, son of Tierney, will go before the Steward and speak. I will tell the truth."
And Horus, his dark face grave, stepped from his place beside Darien and said, "And I, Horus, once a son of Far Harad, will go also."
Osric, his arm held stiffly in its dirty sling, shouldered his way from his place among his fellows. Glaring about him, he shouted, "I won't! I didn't have nothing to do with capturing that one." Using his free hand, he pointed first to Nik, then to Sevilodorf. "Nor that one."
Carrick stood and rested a hand on Osric's shoulder. His bushy beard and blackened eyes - vivid reminders of his own part in Nik's capture - made it hard to read his face, but his voice was firm.
"Most here were not involved in their capture."
Russ snorted at that, but held his tongue. Clearly he thought otherwise.
Neal's voice cut through the man's deeper tone. "But none here stopped it, either."
Carrick nodded slowly and sighed as he looked at the ground. Then he squared his shoulders and said, "I am Carrick, once of Lamedon. I have slain orcs in battle and hunted them since the war ended. I have no fear of the law. I will go before the Steward."
Osric cradled his injured arm and shook his head determinedly. Sev saw the man who had loaned the liquor flask to Evan scuff one boot, then lift his hand.
"I am Bevin son of Melthen, and I will speak before Lord Faramir." The man swallowed and glanced sidelong at Sev. "Landis was a good man. And I think now you are a good woman."
Two other men eased forward, two of those who had been in the cave but whose names Sev had never learned. One stood silent, while the other crossed his arms in perhaps unconscious imitation of Russ' forbidding pose.
"I buried my brother and his wife within sight of their burning home," he said. "You're asking me to speak for an orc?"
"No," Halbarad replied. "We're asking you to tell Lord Faramir what you saw in that cave. What did Grady do? What did Nik do? What happened to your sergeant, Landis? The truth. That is all."
The two men looked about, visibly uneasy. For all their lives Nik's kind had been the closest thing Men had to a natural enemy. Now their consciences warred between well-earned ancient hatreds and the duty that the Rangers appealed to them to embrace.
"No one asked me," a boyish voice called out and all turned to see Evan attempting to rise.
Neal limped back to his brother and pushed on his shoulder. "Sit down, you fool, or you'll never use that leg again!"
Evan jerked away and scowled up at his brother fiercely as he said, "No! It is my right to speak. I was there and I can swear to everything that happened!"
With an annoyed grimace Neal nodded and, bending, attempted to help his brother to stand. As a twist of his own bad ankle almost toppled the two of them into the fire, a firm arm gripped Evan's arm.
"Let me help," said Anardil quietly.
Neal nodded and hopped back as Aerio appeared on Evan's other side. As man and elf supported the boy, Evan balanced himself and said firmly, "If they have to be a witness so do I. And if all they want is the truth, why are you afraid? Grady was a hired ruffian who was going to get in trouble, anyway, while Landis was one of us."
Osric muttered something about children that earned him a hard elbow in the ribs from Carrick, but then Osric raised his chin.
Scowling he said, "I'm not afraid of the truth. And I'll tell it all. Especially that I didn't have nothing to do with capturing that orc or that wi… woman." He paused a beat and then growled, "And I was no friend of Grady. He couldn't have scraped Landis' boots."
Osric returned the glare the woman gave him with one of his own and stomped away toward the picket lines. This left the two undecided men still struggling with doubt. The boy Evan frowned at them with the clear exasperation that only youth could manage.
"Ham, Tom, what are you scared of? You didn't do anything wrong. Just tell what you saw and don't be such a baby about it!"
The man evidently named Ham snorted a sudden gust of dry laughter, and his companion smiled wryly.
"If we come before the Steward," said Ham, directing his gaze to Halbarad. "Will our testimony of the facts be enough? Will we be held liable for the woman's imprisonment with us?"
"I believe you will not," said Halbarad. "She does not wish to press such a suit. You are a witness only."
"Very well." Ham and Tom exchanged glances, and then Ham said, "We will speak before the Steward. We will tell how Landis died and why the Uruk slew Grady."
Finally Sevilodorf, pale, cold, bruised and weary beyond reckoning, carefully set aside her half eaten bowl of stew and stood. As the others watched she made her way to stand before Russ. There she reached out a tentative hand. She had not spoken more than few words to Russ in all the months he had lived nearby. She knew that he valued his privacy and being a very private person herself she respected his desires. When word of his permission to gather herbs and plants for healing on his land had been given, Sev had been honored. Feeling every eye in the clearing upon her, she braced herself to speak. Finding the right words was difficult and they came slowly. How a woman with a quick tongue could become so incapable of speech, she had never understood. 'Oh, the gods must work overtime to come up with situations like this', she thought fleetingly.
"Russ, my place will be beside Nik. And with me, I know, will stand the other residents of The Burping Troll to speak in his favor." Then swallowing hard, for she knew he would not like to hear what she had to say. "And those who have agreed to come. But Russ, please, we cannot make the rest appear."
At last Halbarad turned to the silent Beorning and looked up to meet his deep-set eyes. "Will that suffice, then, Russ? We now have promise of testimony by all the eye-witnesses to Grady's madness and Grady's death, and Darien's promise to answer to any other charges of wrong-doing he may face. Will this be sufficient to satisfy your concerns?"
Russ looked first at Sevilodorf, then to the others and finally to Hal. "The guilty go free while the innocent are delivered up for judgment," Russ muttered. "How can I possibly be satisfied by that?"
Sevilodorf swayed upon her feet even as Anardil rushed to her side to steady her. Darien closed his eyes and sighed and even Halbarad seemed no longer sure of what to do. Must he take Nik by force? He had the men to do it, but…no, there had to be another way.
"I am sorry, Lady," the big man said softly, "but this is not about promises any longer, it is about the life of a friend."
Sevilodorf said nothing and stood clinging to Anardil, her eyes closed, her face buried deep in his chest. If the dark look on his face were any indication, Anardil's sympathies lay with the Beorning, at least in the matter of proper guilt.
Then, turning to the others Russ drew breath to speak. But instead of his own words, a small, harsh voice spoke instead.
"I, Nik, a son of Isengard, will go before the Steward." Standing straight as he could, the little Uruk-hai spoke solemnly in imitation of the men of Darien.
Russ's mouth snapped closed and his eyes grew wide in surprise. He opened his mouth to speak again, but nothing came. He merely stood staring at the little fellow, his bewildered lips working and working, but with nothing coming out.
"Did I say it right?" Nik asked, his serious eyes taking in all who stood there.
"Nik…" Sev exclaimed raising her head, bright tears in her eyes. "Yes, Nik, you said it perfectly."
She tried to say more, but found that she could not. Celebsul wore a wide, approving smile and even Anardil felt something akin to respect for Nik kindled within him.
Russ, however, was decidedly less than happy at Nik's decision. "Now listen, Nik," he said firmly. "You do not have to do this. You do not know what will happen if you go before the Steward. Why, just making the trip to his city will be dangerous enough. By the time this comes to pass, folks from all over Ithilien will come to bear witness. And I have no doubt that there are worse folk than these about," Russ said, gesturing at Darien and his men. "Even if you are freed, there will be those who will want you dead and will spare no effort to see that that is done. Do you not see this?"
"He will have an escort," Halbard said quickly, not wanting to lose even the slightest chance at a resolution. "All the Rangers that can be spared and if necessary a company of the Steward's horse from Henneth Annûn. Nik's safety will be assured."
"And can you assure the Steward's decision as well?" Russ asked. "No, it is too great a risk, I will not allow it."
"It's not for you to say, " Nik said in a small voice, and tilted his head to give the big man a beseeching yet somehow determined look. "Teach, you told me once that I am a free person. That I can go where I choose, when I choose and nobody, not even you can say otherwise. You told me that I have the right to make my own decisions. That I'm not a slave to one master any more. If what you said is true, then you have to let me go."
Russ opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it. He looked down at his bruised and beaten friend and just did not know what to think. Nik was right, of course. It was his decision to make. His, and his alone. Russ still did not believe for one moment that it was fair to compel Nik to go before the steward for judgment, while the others who assisted in the kidnapping of Nik and Sevilodorf were allowed to go free, even at Sevilodorf's wish. But if Nik were willing to go of his own accord, then Russ would respect that. And in the end, it was not about rights or crimes or judgments, it was about honor. Honor and promises kept. Russ did not have to like it, and to be sure, he did not. But he could not prevent it either. He shook his head.
"Tell me this then, Nik," Russ said finally, gently. "Why? Do you trust these men to do what they say?"
Nik looked around at the staring faces and then back to Russ. He shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "But I trust her." Nik indicated Sevilodorf. "And I wouldn't see her promise to the man Landis broken."
Russ stroked his shaggy winter beard and studied Nik for a moment, then looked around at the circle of men. Finally he turned to Halbarad.
"Very well, then," Russ said, his face set and stern. "Within a year and a day we will come before your Steward. Of our plans, we shall send such word as we may. Tell your Steward to look for us no sooner than mid-year, nor later than the first day of autumn. I still do not entirely approve of this, but Nik is right when he says it is for himself to decide and I will not begrudge him this."
Then Russ turned and stood towering and grim before Darien and his men. Darien extended his hand but Russ did not take it.
Instead he met and held the man's gaze and said, "Away from these mountains and between the road and the marshes called Nindalf by the Elves and Wetwang by men there is a farm."
"For a year and a day," he said, with a glance at Halbarad, "none of you shall set foot upon the lands thereof without my bidding. Should any of you do so, you shall come under the judgment of my house and that is something you would do well to avoid. What my decision shall be after that remains to be seen."
Darien nodded sadly but said nothing. He had hoped for more than this, but had not expected anything different.
Halbarad spoke next. "I will look forward to hearing from you," he said to Russ. "And do not worry, Lord Faramir is a fair man and he will do right by Nik and all of us."
Russ acknowledged Hal's words, but it was clear they did not appease him.
"That, I think, remains to be seen as well." Russ said.
Then Halbarad turned to Nik. "Well met, Nik, and well spoken. What Russ told you was the truth. You did well to listen to him. And because of this, because you are going before the Steward of your own free will, it will weigh heavily in your favor. He is a man who respects honor, and what you have done is as honorable an act as any man could make. Again I say to you, well met!"
And suddenly it felt as if a great weight had been lifted from all of them. Elves, orcs, people and beornings all relaxed and began to breathe again. Smiles blossomed on some of the faces and there was heard even laughter. It would only be temporary of course, for there were still many hard feelings between those gathered there, especially when one of those was a Beorning. But for the moment at least, hard feelings were set aside and all heaved a collective sigh of relief. This one hurdle at least, had been passed.
xxx
TBC ...