Chapter Eight

Kili strode uphill in the dark, Young Bard beside him with a small squad of Dale constables at his back, their boots crunching in the snow. For the moment, all was quiet in Dale.

"Next time you confront a condemned criminal in someone's back hallway, give me a little warning," Bard said.

"You were busy."

"We have a gaol and a hanging tree."

"Can't hang a dwarf from a tree. Necks are too thick."

Kili saw Bard frown. The poor lad was getting a bit exasperated.

"Sword," Kili clarified. "Axe, or knife. Whichever one is handy. What you want is a good, sharp blade. Though in this case the criminal chose her own method."

"Poison." Bard snorted. "You didn't stop her."

"She knew she was cornered. It was that or my sword."

"And this way there's no blood to clean up?" Bard sighed.

"My deepest apologies for the trouble." Kili said. He meant it.

Bard nodded. "Justice. Never easy."

"My brother gave Yngvli and his daughters a fair second chance," Kili went on. "All they had to do was go live their lives somewhere else. Since they're back, they've forced our hands."

"I agree," Bard said in a low voice. "If you find this Yngvli, there's no question. Sword, axe or knife. Whichever one is handy."

Kili nodded, his expression grim. "Yes. As Erebor would do for you if the situation was reversed. If we don't follow through on our King's judgments, we break trust with our own good people. They expect us to keep our word and enforce our laws. Yngvli had fair warning that returning here means execution on sight. He's made his choice for death."

They stopped at the top of the hill and faced each other in the moonlight. Bard nodded. "My father would have said the same thing," he conceded.

They regarded each other in silence. Bard's father was less than two years dead, killed in the siege of the great war right outside the gates of Erebor.

"We lost many good people in that last battle," Kili said. "Brand was a great King and he loved you well. He would be very proud of the job you're doing here."

Bard's eyes lit. "You think so?"

Kili smiled, put his hand over his heart and tilted his head in a quick bow. "I do." The lad was young and not really so hard to read.

"I still have much to learn, obviously," Bard looked out over his town, lit by oil lamps reflecting softly off the snow. "But you nailed it when you said the riots were a diversion for something else. What I don't understand is why. Why riots in Dale to cover up a plot in Erebor?"

"You're asking exactly the right question," Kili said. "But I think we're still missing a few pieces to the entire answer. Duf the Ravenspeaker, for one."

Young Bard stared at the older Dwarf, his frown telling Kili that the man was trying to add up the facts. "They silence a Ravenspeaker here," Bard said slowly, "And draw Erebor's guard commander out of the mountain so their plan to kidnap a prince has a better chance. But…" his voice trailed off.

"No Ravenspeaker in Dale means you can't get timely warning of something that we might know but you wouldn't."

"You mean an attack?"

Kili nodded. "Exactly."

"Son of a…" Bard looked up at the clear sky and the bright moon. "What a perfect night for goblins this is."

"And ravens don't fly in the dark."

"Any idea what their target is?"

"Not sure. But I think we know who does."

Bard turned to the squad of constables at his back and sent two of them off to quietly raise the Dale militia with orders to muster at the ready.

Then he turned his tired, stern face back to Kili and offered a bow of his own. "Lead on, Lord Prince."

Kili and Bard met up with Bofur, the hill brothers, and Skirfir in a dark corner of the deserted market square. The bell tower was just ringing three bells: third after sunset, Dale time. Not that far from midnight. Most people were inside their homes by now, hunkered down for bed.

"Yngvli spent most of the day drinking," Skirfir reported. "And I tracked him from the pubs to a traveler's wagon they've got tucked away on a side street. You can see it from here," he nodded toward what looked like a wooden hut on wheels—the sort used by northern men and some dwarves. There were several such wagons around Dale at the moment, traders staying put because of the heavy snow.

"Good lad," Kili put one hand on the young archer's back. "Time to pay him a visit and ask some questions." He looked at Bofur. "You have the redbane?"

Bofur patted the chest pocket on his coat. "Picked it up from a guy I know at Ruby's."

Kili nodded to the hill brothers. "You lads take the lead." He put a hand on Skirfir's shoulder, "Stay back with your bow—if he tries to run, aim for his legs. We need to talk to him."

Skirfir nodded. Bard relayed the same instructions to the back up squad of constables.

"But this is Erebor's justice," Bard told them. "Let them take the lead."

None of them questioned the order. They would expect the reverse courtesy if they tracked a Dale man to the mountain.

Routing Yngvli from the traveler's wagon was nearly child's play. The coward squealed and pled innocence to Bard when Kili dragged him out by his collar.

But when he noticed the Dale King's unyielding expression and the drawn bow of the Dale archer not ten feet away, arrow poised and ready, he sank to his knees, quivering.

"Search the rest of the wagon," Kili ordered. The hill brothers did so.

"My Lord!" they called out. "It's Duf."

"Alive?"

Bofur scrambled into the wagon to assist. "Barely," he called back. "I think the lad's been drugged or something."

Kili held his long knife to Yngvli's throat. "What have you been giving him?"

Yngvli, of course, evaded direct questions for a good five minutes. He dissembled almost as well as Bofur in similar circumstance, but Kili had no patience for it.

"Bofur?" he called.

The old miner knew what his friend and prince wanted. He popped up beside Kili and pulled out a vial and unscrewed the top.

The hill brothers were all too willing to hold the groveling merchant while Bofur waved it under Yngvli's nose.

Bard looked concerned when his eyes met Kili's.

"It won't hurt him," Kili murmured. "Just Redbane fumes. Loosens the tongue."

"Aye," Bofur confirmed, looking at Bard. "We don't allow it in the Mountain, but you've got one or two Dale men who bottle the stuff. Never heard that it works on men." He winked. "But it'll sure grease your wheels with a dwarf. And nose full of this stuff is a fair bit more pleasant than whatever he's been dosing poor Duf with."

"Rock snake venom," Yngvli blurted. Then he blinked, as if completely surprised to have said that.

Kili raised his eyebrows and looked at Bard. The viperous Rock Snake was only found in the stony crags around Gundabad. Using it was orc behavior.

Bard glowered.

Kili stayed focused on his mission, and it didn't take much to get everything out of Yngvli. The Slagheads had stirred up the goblins and instigated an attack on Erebor as a way to draw Fili out of the mountain and take their revenge on him for the execution of their shadow leader, Aurvang.

And kidnapping one of Fili's children was the bait that would get him out.

Routing Dale would be the goblins' reward for handing over Erebor to the Slagheads.

"That has to be the most piss-poor plan I've heard in a long time," Bard swore, looking at Yngvli like he was flat out insane to have signed up for any part of it.

Kili didn't dismiss it so quickly.

"By this time," Yngvli said with pride in his voice, "Sissa's already packed one of those brats off to the goblins. They'll show him off to your ravens at sunrise, and your high and mighty brother won't be able to resist. All you can do from here is watch as he storms out of that mountain right into a blood bath." Yngvli laughed.

Kili grabbed the dwarf by the neck to bring him forward and kneed him sharp in the gut. He let him fall to the ground, gasping for air.

Yngvli slowly struggled back to his feet, panting and wiping blood from his lip. "You all deserve it," Yngvli spat. "You're part and parcel with Gondor. Handing us all over to that upstart vagabond ranger."

"That King will bring us peace," Kili growled, a steady fury building in his gut. "When you would bring us constant death and war."

Yngvli made the mistake of trying to bolt, then, only to be tripped by Kili and fall flat on his face.

No one made a move to defend him when Erebor's Prince pulled the traitor's head back by the hair and slashed his throat in one angry slice of his blade.

The violence of it even shocked Bofur, who of course had seen many orcs and goblins obliterated on the battlefield...but this was another dwarf...a traitor dwarf, though...a Slaghead who'd consorted with orcs and already had a death sentence, and he was most certainly guilty of setting a trap for Erebor's King.

And Kili was not merciful when it came to protecting his brother.

They looked in disgust at Yngvli the Traitor, now limp and lifeless.

"My Lord," King Bard said quietly. "May I offer you the service of transport on my fastest horse?"

"That," Kili replied, still glowering at the body on the ground. "Would be greatly appreciated."

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But can Kili win the race to divert his brother? O.O Thank you for reading along, and stay tuned for Ch 9! - Summer