Chapter Twelve: The Verdict
12.1
Two hours had passed when the doors of the great Hall of Law were opened by two strong sabâj. There was a silence, some murmurs perhaps, when everyone entered slowly and all took a seat. Stormhand, who was flanked by sabâj, was looking at the floor, his eyes lifeless as if trapped in a different world.
The sound of the closing doors startled a few of the dwarves present. Then in her usual determined voice Brina Hammerfall spoke as she addressed all dwarves present.
"For charges brought against them by the master Thinpen and his master Stormhand, previously known under the false name of Goldthumb, it is the decision of this court that master Hilfar and Lord Duinn Drakenbane, are completely acquitted of any charges brought against them. Furthermore, the stain on the honour of master Skaril, the real Goldthumb family and the deceased Jornum are by this court undone. Let none, from this moment on, speak ill of these dwarrows concerning the events here judged."
"Master Tholdurin, please rise...", slowly Tholdurin stood up his head bowed, Hammerfall continued: "for injuring an elderly dwarf and threatening someone in a court of law, the court of the Longbeards hereby sentences you to forced labour, from first day hour till last day hour, in the coal mines of Thorin's Hall, every day without exception, for a period of three moons - this without pay. In addition to losing your employment with the DFTC Othrikar, no longer allowed to mine in Othrikar again for the remainder of your life. It is the opinion of this court that strong young dwarves such as yourself can't be encouraged to go around hitting dwarves, elderly ones at that, regardless of the words they uttered. We pray that with time you will mature into a dwarf that does not put his rage before his reason." Tholdurin nodded, ashamed to look at judge Hammerfall.
"Master Thinpen, please rise... ", it took a good while before Thinpen stood, his eyes terrified, as if he was an animal about to be skinned alive.
Hammerfall coughed and continued: "for giving false statements to a court of Longbeard Law, for willingly assisting in attempted murder, for forging official documents, for willingly assisting in fraud against the King, for attempting to destroy the honour of honourable dwarves... This court of the Longbeards hereby sentences you to be subject to scouring from the first day hour till the fourth day hour, this inflicted by three sabâj with oaken clubs. In addition master Thinpen will lose all gold, silver and copper in his accounts and gems in his vault, to be given to King Dáin Ironfoot. Furthermore he is not to retain his home at Othrikar or all belongings there in, to be sold at the highest bidder, profits of which are to be placed under the guardianship of the stores of Durin’s Folk, to be distributed immediately among those dwarves in Othrikar that suffered under the rule of Stormhand, known formally under his false names of Ebenizer Goldthumb."
"Lastly, once the scourging has been completed master Thinpen is to be banished immediately from all Longbeard, Broadbeam and Firebeard halls until his dying die."
"No! You cannot do this!! I am innocent! Innocent I say! It was all his fault!", Thinpen began to scream while pointing at his former master Stormhand. As it was clear the screams would only increase judge Hammerfall nodded at the sabâj and while kicking and scream Thinpen was removed from the chamber.
"Master Stormhand, please rise... ."
To everyone's surprise Stormhand stood his chin held high, the pride of a fierce dwarf general that had just slaughtered an orc battalion in his eyes. It was clear Stormhand would not crumble, regardless of the judgement of the court. His own vanity would not allow him to go down as Thinpen did.
"For giving false statements to a court of Longbeard Law,", Hammerfall stated firmly, "for the theft of the identity of another dwarrow, for the attempted murder on various dwarrows, for forging official documents, for orchestrating fraud against the King, for attempting to destroy the honour of honorable dwarves, for the orchestration of arson, for carrying full responsibility of the murder of two dwarrows, being Ebenizer Goldthumb and master Jornum. This court of the Longbeards sentences you to lose all property, assets, gold, silver, copper and gems previously held under your false name of Goldthumb, including properties in Thorin's Hall, Erebor, and the Grey Mountains."
"The total worth of all property, accounts and belongings has currently been judged at the sum of 5481 gold coins, 841 silver coins and 90 coppers."
The entire hall gasped at the astronomical amount mentioned, yet Stormhand did not even blink. "All property and belonging will be sold at the highest bidder at Othrikar," Hammerfall went on, " this at the earliest occasion, under the supervision of the kinship of Durin’s Folk. One third of the proceedings of these sales will be sent to the King under the Mountain, while another third is to be placed under the guardianship of the stores of Durin’s Folk, to be distributed over a period of one hundred years among those dwarves in Othrikar that suffered - as established by DFTC reports- , under the rule of Stormhand, known formally under his false names of Ebenizer Goldthumb. From this guarded third, 100 gold coins will be deducted and will at the earliest opportunity be evenly distributed as followed. 10 Gold each to master Hilfar, Duinn, Skaril for damages –direct and indirect - inflicted to the honour and reputation of themselves or their family, during these proceedings. And 70 gold is to be given to the heir of Jornum, as a token of grief for one who died as a consequence of following the actions of a his evil master."
"Furthermore it is the decision of this court that the sabâj will be placed in charge of the remaining third. They will lead an investigation to obtain the identities of the remaining relatives of the real Ebenizer Goldthumb. Once these dwarves have been identified, this amount is to be given to them in full, for damages to their line, their honour, their property and legacy as done by master Stormhand and his employees. In the event that, this investigation goes beyond ten years and no remaining family members have been found this amount is to be send to the King under the Mountain and the investigation closed permanently."
"Lastly master Stormhand is to be subject to scouring from the first day hour till the fourth day hour, this inflicted by three sabâj with oaken clubs. And when completed master Stormhand will have his beard shorn and will be tied to a post at the centre of Frerin's court for all to see, from sunrise to sunset the following day. After this period master Stormhand will be banished from all Longbeard, Broadbeam and Firebeard halls until his dying die.
Under customs of Dwarrow Law, all those who received sentencing may opt for Mahals Mercy."
"I ask master Tholdurin and Stormhand here present if they wish to opt for Mahals Mercy? And further allow them to speak their last words on this verdict if they wish to do so. The same rights will be granted to master Thinpen, who the sabâj will now again allow in the chamber", she nodded at the sabâj hoping Thinpen had calmed down a bit.
"I do note clearly however, to master Stormhand, that considering the nature of your crimes only the scourging, shorning and banishment can be undone by Mahal’s Mercy. The properties, accounts and belongings held by you previously under a false name will be taken from you regardless if you were to survive Mahals Mercy." Stormhand smiled and nodded at Hammerfall, as if a master who nodded approvingly at the ways a young apprentice showed promise.
All present awaited eagerly what the three dwarves had to say in their closing words...
(By Fryjpora)
12.2
Tholdurin stepped forward, looked over his shoulder a brief moment giving a comforting nod and smile to master Hilfar, "it alright master Hilfar, it's all right".
He turned to the judged and bowed deeply.
"I'm ashamed", he spoke, "deeply ashamed that I have dishonored the reputation of the Durin's Folk Trading Company and its honorable leaders. If a wizard could turn back the time I would beg him to do so. Yet, perhaps..." he paused for a brief moment as if a sudden insight came to him, "if it were not for the punch in the snot-locker of this filth here... all this might never have happened", as he eyed Stormhand in a look of despise.
"And if it means I need to work in the mines or face hardships for a few moons, just to give the good people of Othrikar a well earned rest and a new start in life... then I would punch this filth in the snot-locker every day of the week. So no, I will not take the help of a wizard to turn back the time... nor do I wish for Mahal's Mercy, for I believe this is the way Mahal would have wanted events to unravel and no other way".
Tholdurin smiled, then seemingly pleased he bowed at the judges and sat back down.
First very hesitantly, then louder and louder one dwarf after another stood up and clapped, showing Tholdurin a deep respect for what this simple miner had just said and done.
(By Kandral)
12.3
The sabâj brought in Thinpen, dragging him over the floor of the chamber and setting him in front of the judges. He hung there as if held by imaginary ropes, barely the strength to remain standing it would seem.
Hammerfall looked at Thinpen wondering if he would speak at all then Thinpen opened his mouth and said a low wavering voice: "this is not right, you are making a mistake, it's him... not me... he made me do it... he.."
"Enough of your yammering master Thinpen, answer if you wish to be granted Mahal's Mercy!", spoke Skegrym, voicing the fatigue all had of Thinpen's theatrics.
"I... I... what will you do to me if I accept Mahal's Mercy?", he asked in a frail voice.
"We shall DO nothing, apart from set you before your challenge chosen by the hand of Mahal", spoke Hammerfall, "you understand Mahal's Mercy don't you master Thinpen?" Thinpen nodded, starring at the floor. His mind, heart and reason locked in an epic battle to attempt a way out of this predicament.
"Alright", he spoke at last in an undertone, "I accept Mahal's Mercy. But if I succeed in this challenge all charges against my person are dropped?"
"That is correct master Thinpen", if you succeed the challenge put before you by Mahal and survive, it is a proof that Mahal himself had willed it so. In that case no dwarrow shall ever speak a word of ill to your name on this matter, nor shall any of your belongings be taken from you. It will be as if Mahal himself declared you a new dwarf, proven by your strength and noble devices, cleared of all wrongs.", Hammerfall said, knowing quite well that if the frail and frightened Thinpen would survive Mahal's Mercy it indeed would be divine will. "In that case... I take Mahal's Mercy...", Thinpen confirmed.
The judges looked at each other and then Skegrym nodded at the guard of the chamber to bring forth The Hand of Mahal. It was a small camlet bag with the finest gold thread woven in an Ereborian pattern around its borders. No larger than a coin bag, it had been preserved remarkably well considering it was many centuries old. The guard placed fin strips of parchment before the judges with each a feathered pen freshly inked beside it. The judges looked at each other for a brief moment, then closed their eyes. The entire room was silent, not a cough, whisper, or squeaking bench to be heard. This was a solemn moment, for the dwarves believed at least one of the judges would now be whispered the words of Mahal, those that Thinpen would draw from The Hand of Mahal.
Moments in utter silence passed slowly, then hardly noticeable it was as if the ground shook for the briefest moment of time. At that moment, the judges opened their eyes, took a strip of parchment and started to write. Quickly the parchment strips were folded and put in the camlet bag. To Thinpen's surprise he was blindfolded and his hand was lead to the Hand of Mahal. All held their breath as Thinpen's hand began to tremble uncontrollably.
"Mahal's Mercy find you, His will ever just", spoke Hammerfall as she opened the bag and Thinpen's trembling hand was guided into the bag by one of the guards. Before everyone knew what was going on Hammerfall spoke: "Mahal has spoken", and she took the piece of parchment from his shaking fingers while the guard removed his blindfold. "Hear now the will of The Great Smith, "she uttered in a booming voice, the halls trembling again, "master Thinpen will be guided by the Sabâj to the entrance of the spider lair of Bogbereth, the Poisoned Queen of Himbar, at Torech-i-Bogbereth west of Gath Forthnír in the foul heart of Angmar... where he is to kill Bogbereth and return with proof of her slaying. The sabâj will ensure he shall not run and perform the will of Mahal or die in the attempt. So Mahal has spoken."
"No!!! I won't! I can't! Don't let them do this! Have mercy!", screamed Thinpen who was quickly dragged out of the chamber once again.
None in the Hall had any doubt, that was the last of Thinpen.
"Now, master Stormhand, your last words on these matters... ", Hammerfall said in a calm fashion, seemingly unaffected by Thinpen's theatrics.
Stormhand stepped forward confidently and spoke in a loud voice:
"Well, it seems my plans have come to an end. I should not complain really, I lived a full life. And you Longbeards only caught me now... when I'm at the very end of this life... I wondered if you ever would.", Stormhand grinned. All looked amazed at each other, was Stormhand no Longbeard then?
"Oh, there is much this court has no clue about, but seeing that this is the end I might as well just get it off my chest. I did not kill Ebenizer, the wargs did that... and he deserved it. He was a pompous Longbeard dirt-bag. Yes, I hid his body in the dirt and stole his attire, gold and records... but at least now I had a life, before that I was no one. As Stormhand I lived in Bree most of my life, son of a Dourhand father and Longbeard mother. Some say my mother was married against her will, I would not know and couldn't care to be honest. She left my father and ran from Bree when I was little, I hope the wargs ate her too!", he spoke in a rage as some spit dropped off his lips. "The Longbeards hated us. My father did his best to become an honest trader, but none wanted his tools. They laughed at him, spat at him, despised him... . He was not like me, he was honest. Yes, this Dourhand was tired of evil ways and betraying his kin and he ran to Bree, but there none would accept him. His whole life he just wanted respect and acceptance, and all he ever got was hate and contempt from you Longbeards. When he died he left me nothing, for we had nothing, reduced to dirt we were. I hated the Longbeards and swore I would let them suffer in any way I could. When the Goldthumbs arrived in Bree they were looking for an extra guard to join them on the road to Othrikar. An easy target they were, such pompous Longbeards, richer then anything I had ever seen. There were few dwarves there are the time, so I said I was a Longbeard Guard and would join for free, merely to get a ride to the North-East where I had some business. I didn't expect for the wargs to attack us. I had planned to kill them myself in fact when we arrived at Othrikar, but the wargs made my job an easy one. Mind you, I did have to fight and run for my life. Then these stupid elves burned everything, it was a nice fit." Stormhand spoke as if he was talking about his handywork, while sporting a vile grin on his face.
"So, I started a new life, as the Longbeard Goldthumb... and I hired as many Longbeards as I could hire, let them mine for me, break their backs for me... I couldn't care less if they died in the mines! My father would be avenged! For two-hundred years I made their lives miserable, not an extra plate of food, not an extra coin in their pockets. Most of the Longbeard idiots had lifetime contracts they could not get out of", Stormhand laughed loudly causing tremendous anger in the room. Yet Hammerfall let Stormhand speak, as she wished to hear all he had to say.
"I crushed them, all of them... like they did my father and me. You wonder why the Dourhand presence has always been this strong in the North-Down? Look no further Longbeards!", Stormhand bowed with utter contempt.
"I gave them food, gold, clothing... everything I could spare and they left Othrikar alone... a nice arrangement. But no doubt you've found the tunnel that connects the father lode with the Dourhand camp 5 miles North, if not you will soon enough.... how else do you think I managed to get that to them unseen by all? Or why do you think I was so protective of the fatherlode? After all, I had all the gold I needed already. Who cares about a few carts full of gold when you can make Longbeard scum bleed!", he laughed again louder and more menacing then before. The entire Hall in an uproar, yet he went on even louder.
"I will NOT take Mahal's Mercy, for Mahal is the NOT my god... he never helped any Dourhand, I spit on his face", Stormhand shouted and spit to the bench of the judges then started to sing a song at the very top of his old longs:
"Dourhands, march on till the end of time!
For Skorgrím again shall rise!
Together we shall crush that which is the Longbeard slime!
For ...."
"Enough!" shouted Hammerfall, halting these grieves insults, the entire chamber now thirsty for Stormhand's blood, "enough! Sabâj get him out of here, now!". Stormhand was quickly dragged out of the chamber, the entire Hall still in tremendous uproar.
(By Midarin)
12.4
Steingi listened through each sentence until it was Stormhand's turn to answer if he wanted the Mahal's Mercy or not. As he went on about who he was and such, Steingi was angered. He was not only an ally, he was half Dourhand himself. Then the words came. ''I will NOT take Mahal's Mercy, for Mahal is the NOT my god... he never helped any Dourhand, I spit on his face.'' Stormhand said and spit to the judges bench. Steingi was outraged, talking down and showing no respect to Mahal. He was no stupid Dwarrow, so he sat there, just keeping his eyes on the ongoing situation, but he did had anger in him.
Orhn himself was still writing down the things that happened. Now when it had came up that he was a Dourhand and had deep connections to them, he knew that Dhordur would be pleased. But he was also outraged of what Stormhand said about his plans and about Mahal. His anger was clearly shown in his face, but his grandfather had taught him well to keep the anger don a bit in places like this and use it in battle instead.
Orhn looked after Stormhand as he was dragged out. The hall had started to get into an uproar, some people shouting out of anger. Orhn could not stop himself and started to shout as Stormhand was dragged past his seat. HE showed his anger towards him. However Stormhand only had a grin on his face.
(By Dhordur)
12.5
Skegrym looked down at the slip of parchment before him, then closed his eyes and waited. He'd never been called to this duty before, and he tried to clear his mind of the rage that Thinpen had gifted him.
He heard the clamouring Dwarves in the court. Next to him, the judges sat immoveable as stone. Skegrym wondered what he should write - a task so impossibly hard that Thinpen would die, or something at which the old Dwarf might actually succeed. He started to think of beasts - wargs, spiders, bears - then imagined Thinpen being pierced by goblin spears. Another image came, but then the floor shook as from a mammoth's tread and Skegrym's breath was torn from his mouth.
A long time later (or so it seemed), the old judge opened his eyes and began to write. He didn't know what he wrote, and afterwards, when he heard Brina's pronouncement of Thinpen's 'mercy' in the spider lair, he wondered who had so irrevocably sealed the traitor's doom. For all he'd thought of were mountains, stone, iron and fire.
(By Glorieskh)
12.6
Thalamath listened to Stormhand, his eyes widening. He was indeed a dourhand! He growled angrily, clenching his fists, staring at him in loathing. And then he mentioned the tunnel...the tunnel! Othrikar was in danger, with so many left to come here for the court case.
He sprang to his feet.
"Esteemed judges, I beg your leave to send word to Othrikar about the tunnel. It must be collapsed, before it is too late!"
Without waiting for an answer, Thalamath through back the large doors and sprinted off down the road towards the post master's office, yelling for quill and ink.
(By Thalamath)
12.7
Hilfar was rather silent the last day of the trial. He knew Tholdurin would accept his sentence, although he stil found three moons way too long. Othrikar will have little output without Tholdurin.
Thinpen did choose Mahal's mercy, and so he sealed his fate. He was about to face a horrible death. The tales tell that the spider spawns of Angmar kill their prey slowly, letting them hang for a week before they are finally devoured. Hilfar shuddered at the thought and could only feel pity for Thinpen.
Then he saw Stormhand. Not a single sign of remorse could be read on his face. When Stormhand told about the mine tunnel with the Dourhands, Hilfar turned to Thalamath. But Thalamath was already up to deal with this new threat. Goldthumb or no Stormhand got what he deserved, actually Hilfar hoped that he would be send into that spider lair..
Hilfar glanced at Skaril and could not hide his smile, knowing that Mahal has already shown his mercy.
(By Hilfar)
12.8
Duinn looked on with contempt as Thinpen was dragged from the chambers, turning his gaze towards Stormhand who began to answer. First there was astonishment at the claims, then there was anger, a surging heat of hatred towards Stormhand as he revealed his story. Duinn sat uneasy, Stormhand did not opt for Mahal's Mercy, many clammered and talk was about as Stormhand concluded.
It turned to uproar!
Judge Hammerfall ordered two Sabaj guards to take Stormhand away.
Duinn turned quickly towards Khlosi who sat behind him, "Send dwarrows to Othrikar now! Ere sunset!". Duinn whispered, turning towards Byl, Duinn looked alarmed, "Byl! Send our most seasoned dwarrows! A contingency to Othrikar as soon as possible!".
"Stormhand shall never be allowed to into the North-Downs again or near Othrikar. He would soon be a corpse on the road!" Duinn sat pondering, "Dourhands must be cleansed in the North!" Duinn looked grey, old and weary, "Once more unto the breach!".
(By Duinn)
12.9
Stormhand laughed loudly as the sabâj dragged him out of the room.
The panic in the eyes of Thalamath, Hilfar and Duinn at the mention of the tunnel made him feel powerful again.
Yet, this old dwarf didn't laugh because of the panic in the eyes of his adversaries, he laughed for what was still to come. For Stormhand had more than one of his employees in the court room, carefully observing what went on.
The tyrant would not simply allow Durin's Folk their satisfaction without him delivering an unexpected blow. The moment he had left Othrikar for Thorin's Hall he had set the chess pieces in place, ready for their attack. He knew that the chance of his empire being taken from him was more than likely and like the skillful general the thought himself, he had made plans for such a contingency.
Weeks before the Dourhands activity in the North-Downs had strangely calmed down. The Longbeard guards counting themselves lucky, yet what none knew is that Stormhand had given instructions for the Dourhands to prepare to attack Othrikar and return it to the ruin it once was.
Undetected even by the skilled sabâj several wagons of weapons had arrived from Angmar. The Dourhands had began to arm themselves to the teeth, their regiments ready to strike Othrikar from the very mines that were the heart of this town.
A brief nod do one of his employees at the end of the first day had been enough to set his final plan in motion. Stormhand knew very well what would happen the next day, his time was up... it was time to take the King on the board and win the game. That evening a crow flew to Othrikar in full haste, carrying the message: "Attack Now! I will soon be with you all again my family. General Stormhand".
The crow had just arrived at the Dourhand camp, when around noon the next day Stormhand revealed all, including the presence of the tunnel. Even if the Longbeards got word out to Othrikar it would be too late. With this court case in Thorin's Hall there were just not enough guards and sabâj left at Othrikar to fight the Dourhand masses at unawares.
Was this Stormhands final move? Would hundreds of innocent dwarves be slaughtered with no-one to protect them?
(By Midarin)
12.10
Thalamath scribbled hurriedly on the parchment, his brow furrowed.
"One tunnel connects to Dourhand camp. Find it, seal it off. Double the guard. On my way"
He attached the small scroll to a carrier bird, and flung it from its perch, watching it take flight anxiously.
He ran back to his house, stuffing his armour into a travel sack and flinging in what supplies he'd need. Racing back to the stables, he called for his pony. He mounted swiftly, digging his heels in immediately, spurring it onwards.
He'd rely on Duinn and Hilfar to arrange for reinforcements to be sent. Right now, he had to hasten to Othrikar. With the dourhands being in the pay of Stormhand for so long, he knew they'd attack ere the money stopped flowing.
He had to be there to meet them, axe in hand.
(By Thalamath)
12.11
Mist and a frightful chill surrounded Thorin's Halls that morning, not what one would expect on an early June day. It seemed one of those morning where most dwarves would remain in doors, as mist does terrible things to a well groomed beard. But this morning was different, for Frerin's Court was filled with deafening chatter, as if the markets of Thorin's, Erebor and Needlehole had merged for a day. From the very old to the very young, there wasn't a dwarf in the Blue Mountains - and the wider area for that matter - that had not cleared his schedule to witness this. Moments earlier the crowd had seen a blooded Thinpen, heavily scourged, been carried away by sabâj and put on a pony. They were to escort him to the lands of Angmar. He screamed, he pleaded for his life, but the shouts of the crowd were without mercy. Soon a terrified and frail Thinpen disappeared in a misty horizon with a sabâj contingency.
At the same time, oblivious to most, the armories were bustling with activity as well, dwarves being armed to the teeth, forming long ranks and marching in double pace to Othrikar. The same gathering of dwarrow battalions was happening in various dwarven Halls, all marching as fast as their legs could carry them to the North Downs. As one battalion marched by Frerin's court, and another and another... whispers turned to hearsay, hearsay turned to shouts, shouts turned to fury.
There was only one to blame for all this... Stormhand. He was the one putting their loved ones in danger. He was the one leading their husbands, their sons and their brothers to an uncertain battle. For none doubted he had given the command to the Dourhands to attack Othrikar. Yes, none doubted that at this very minute the mining settlement was being brutally ravished by the foul-beard scum.
As the roars of anger grew to new heights, the doors of Thorin's Hall were opened and Stormhand was being dragged out by two Sabâj, his blooded beard hanging over the floor. The first part of his sentence had been dealt, three hours of scourging with clubs. His old face looked swollen and his gold teeth seemed all missing. Some had wondered if Stormhand would survive such a beating at his age. But to everyone's surprise as Stromhand passed the row of angry Longbeards they could hear him whisper, as blood dripped from his lips... "Dourhands, march on till the end of time... for Skorgrím again shall rise... ".
It was clear Stormhand had no intention to grovel and plead for mercy, even if they beat him to a bloody pulp, as was the case. "Murderer! Dourhand scum!" could be heard as the Sabâj tied Stormhand to a post near the center statue. Stormhand hang there, no strength in him left, but kept on singing his Dourhand song, unrelenting. When Stormhand had been firmly tighted up, one of the sabâj took out a large knife, at which everyone cheered. They all knew the second part of the sentence was due, he was going to be shorn. Some dwarves looked away, some cringed, this was a sight all dreaded. Slowly but surely the sabâj dipped the large knife in boiling water, then started to scrape away the beard of the old dwarrow. Bit by bit large chunks of blooded hair fell to the ground. Moment later the sabâj nodded to one of the guards, it was done. He stepped away and a gasp went through the crowd... there he stood, a traitor, a dourhand, a murderer... beardless. Few cheered and most turned their backs on Stormhand, disgusted. Stormhand lifted his swollen, blooded and clean shaven face and grinned and continued his song with what strength he had left. But to his surprise no reaction followed... the market square was filled with silence, some of the older Longbeards took the younger by the hand and turned away saying: "remember this day lad... now, turn away, let him hang here till the morn... for he does not deserve our gaze."
Slowly the market cleared, Stormhand hanging there alone, as the mist of Thorin's Hall slowly surrounded him.
(By Fryjpora)
12.13
"You win, here's your 5 silver pieces", said the older Romri reluctantly to his young sabâj companion, "I was sure this Dourhand filth would have died on this post by now. Beaten to a pulp, and look at him, bwa..."he turned his face in disgust at the very look of the shorn dwarf.
"Well, there's no denying, the rat is still alive", grinned Vrinli, the sabâj, as he took the 5 silvers and put them in his pocket, "though in this case I would not have minded to have lost. Middle-Earth would be a better place without this weasel. Now let's get this over with Romri, I don't like to be here this early. Let's just brand him, cut him lose and get him on the cart, as instructed".
Stormhand seemed to be asleep, or perhaps unconscious, hanging limp to the post they had tied him the day before.
Romni nodded and took out a iron poll with at the end of it a branding mark.
"I don't think this has been used in decades", he whispered as he inspected the branding stick, "hand me the bucket of hot coals".
Vrinli looked a bit squeamish at first, dreading what would happen next, though the sabâj apprentice followed orders and put the bucket that shone red with a glow of warmth next to Romni.
"What do those marks say?", asked Vrinli as he looked at the branding stick before it was placed in the hot coals. "You can't read?", said Romni. Vrinli shook his shoulders and said: "I'm learning". "They form the runes D.U.SH", said Romni. "Oh, the dwarvish for "dark", interrupted Vrinli, pleased to have added some of his knowledge to the conversation. "Yes, but that's not all, it stands for Durthurathkh Uhfar Shak.... meaning "Dourhand - Traitor - Banned". Once we brand these runes on his forehead he won't be welcomed in any dwarf hall for hundreds of miles. And I bet even in the Eastern Halls he'll have a hard time getting a meal and a place to rest.", replied Romni as he inspected the rod that had by now become red hot.
"Right, lift his head somewhat and hold it firm... and careful he doesn't try anything. I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to bite you", Romni held the hot iron inches from Stormhands forehead as Vrinli reluctantly held the Dourhands head firmly with both hands from behind the post. At that moment it seemed Stormhand opened his eyes, ever so slowly, just in time to see the hot branding mark be pushed onto the flesh of his forehead. The terrifying scream that came from Frerin's Court that morning woke everyone miles around. Yet, though terrible to hear, it was short, as Stormhand seemed to pass out after a second or two.
"Right, now is the time. Cut him lose, then tie his legs and arms and put him on the cart. We are to drop him miles from any Longbeard settlement.", said Romni as he cooled the branding stick in the water.
As the sun started to rise, Romni and Vrinli rode the cart that carried the branded, shorn and blooded Stormhand East. They planned to drop him off in a forest North-West of the Bree Lands fields.
"If it were up to me, I would kill him right now... he's bound to return to the other Dourhands", said Vrinli, as he pulled the weak Stormhand from the cart abruptly. "Well, it isn't up to you and orders are orders... we were to release him hear", snubbed Romni, "now get it over with so I can go back home to my family... we've been on the road for some time now and I can't stand his yammering or stench anymore".
As Vrinli untied Stormhand in the forest, suddenly two arrows whistled by and hit the tree next to Vrinli. "It's a trap! Dourhands, they must have followed us! Leave him now... get back to the c...", shouted Romni when suddenly another arrow smote him in the chest. He dropped to his knees, and his face landed in the leaf-covered ground. Vrinli rushed to aid his friend but at that moment two more arrows hit him in the back. He fell down.
The forest was quite for a while, until heavy boots could be heard through the leaves. "Push these Longbeards in the river.", the strongest of the band of Dourhands instructed the others, "now look at this... ", he shook his head as he looked at Stormhand, "what have these foul Durin-hounds done to you my general. Give him his helm, let none see these markings... his war-helm, now!". "Right away captain Bugrakh", shouted another that sprang to fetch the war-helm. "We'll get you cleaned up general Stormhand, don't worry... we've brought food, clothing, and healing potions. And the attack of Othrikar is underway as we speak, as you ordered... nearly all burned to the ground."
Stormhand looked up as he was held in the arms of the Dourhand captain and grinned.
(By Midarin)
((And so ends our tale of the Goldthumb trial, thank you for reading))
The End.
