Hilfar stood up and looked the judge straight in the eye "Not guilty, my lord."
Byli stood beside him and also said "Not guilty, your majesty, um...Worship."
The judge nodded "Very well there will be a hearing in two days-time. If you need to contact character witnesses or anyone else who can shed light on this matter you may ask the guard commander to contact them. That is all for today."
The court usher shouted "All rise!" Judge Dronin walked out of the courtroom, his cloak flapping behind him.
Hilfar was sticking his nose between two bars of his cell. Thoughts ran wild. How many times do I need to end up in jail? Should I not have stayed a simple merchant, selling potions and herbs from the greenhouse? The bigger the fortune, the bigger the consequence. Can one truly hold on to its treasure? Am I hunting the right course in my life? Truly I would love to see the wealth of the Ironhammer line restored, but to what price? Hilfar sank back to his knees, as he heard a racket near the guard room. "YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO HOLD MY SON, HE IS NOT A KILLER!!" There was a sound of breaking glass, and thumps and fists smashing. "GET OFF OF ME, RUNT!"
Hilfar knew that voice... "Father...".
A few moments later, one unruly old dwarf by the name of Ullfar was dragged in and tossed into the jail cell next to Hilfar. "Greetings father."
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Rogvier didn't stop smiling all evening. Being home again was such a joy after so many years on the road. Drinking nearly half the brandy without even noticing; enjoying the hardy home-cooked meal and laughing at the antics of his little siblings all vying for their big brother's attention, fighting over who sat next to him, and making a ruckus the orcs of Mordor would have trouble matching when it was time for bed.
Once they were all tucked away, things quieted down. Rogvier got a chance to speak further with his father. “As I said back at the shop, I have come to settle down. I still desire a more martial career than spices. I would like to help with the business but perhaps also work as a guard captain or some such in Thorin's Halls as well. You are on good terms with the Uzbad, right? Perhaps you could speak to him on my behalf about some post for me?”
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Byl was snoozing in a chair after spending the night and morning scouring the halls for any sign of Thrandili or her captors. He had returned home late morning and decided to just close his eyes for a minute when an urgent rapping on his door sent him running to open it. The guard captain stood there looking somewhat uncomfortable.
"What news Captain? Any sign of the lass?"
"Alas no my lord. We have every guard out looking in every house and wagon, every back yard and byway and umpteen local folk have volunteered to help but no sign has been found of the lass.... 'Tis as if she has vanished into thin air."
"I will start again Captain... Someone must have seen something. I will do a round of all the night guards and see if anything unusual occurred."
"Um, there is another matter I need to bring to your attention, my lord.
I have been asked by your son to inform you that he and master Hilfar are currently in the Hall's jail and are to be tried for murder on the morrow he asks that you call in on him at your earliest convenience."
"WHAT!!! You've had him locked up in that jail all this time and never informed me? What sort of incompetent idiot are you! OUT OF MY WAY! I WILL SEE MY SON NOW!"
Byl stormed off towards the jail slamming his front door as he went.
He marched to the offices of the well established law firm of Gaindeld, Gruffin, and Plint and kicked the door open, shattering the hinges.
"Oh my lord Izbad! Whatever is the matter?" Rumpi Gaindeld jumped up from his chair in surprise, scattering papers left and right.
"It's my son... I have just been informed that he and master Hilfar are incarcerated in the Hall's jail and are to be tried for murder in the morning! I need you to represent them... I know none of the details but I do know that you will serve me well in sorting out this mess."
"Never fear, old friend. Consider it done... I will accompany you to the jail this instant! If nothing else we should have the trial postponed until we can gather evidence and review the case notes."
Seeing the scowl on the Izbad's face, the jailor spent no time in admitting the Izbad to the jail.
"Byli, Hilfar, What is going on?"
He looked at the two bedraggled dwarves. His son was still looking a frightful mess, eye blackened and nose swollen.
"Oh father, thank goodness. And master Gaindeld! I think we stand a chance now, Hilfar."
Hilfar stood and bowed to the lord and the lawyer. "You’re a sight for sore eyes, Byl. What took you so long?"
"That fool of a guard captain informed me of your whereabouts twenty minutes ago! I came straight here. I suppose he was busy with the search but even so he should have told me earlier!"
"Search? What search?" Said Hilfar.
Byl looked mortified, staring at his son. He said in a low voice. "It's Thrandili, She's been kidnapped from my very halls!"
Byli clenched the bars of his cell wall and cried out. "Kidnapped! Oh Adad, for the love of Mahal, go and find her for me. She is my life... Please!"
"That's exactly why I brought Rumpi. He will deal with this ridiculous accusation while I continue the search!"
"Oh father, please find her for me." Byli said in a small quiet voice.
Byl patted his firstborn's hand. "Never fear lad... I'll not stop looking."
===============
The candle was guttering low before her captor returned, and by then Thrandili was not only very hungry but also possessed of a cold fury, unlike her usual blazing rage.
She was the first to admit that her temper often made more trouble than it solved.
Now she had to take special care with everything she said and did, or Byli would find only half a maid, if he found her at all. She looked at the finger bone on the floor.
It was no longer alone. Her search of the cell had also turned up other bones, larger bones half buried in the ruined floor, some still hung with shreds of flesh, and no one could have survived losing those...
Suddenly there came a crash and a scrape, and the wall moved. She jumped up, blinking, as bright light poured in on her, framing a dark, squat shape. "Good morning, pretty! Want some breakfast?" He came a pace forward, just inside the door. Even past the stench of her chamber pot, and the disturbed bodies in the earth, he stank. She gritted her teeth and took a defensive stance against the wall, feet spread. Her brother had practiced this at home and now she was so glad she'd paid attention.
"Oh but where's my manners? Name's Durtin, but you can call me Dirty." He grinned. Now she could see his filthy beard and greasy hair, the dagger at his belt, the faded yet once elegant jacket. Details. She had to look at details, so she could identify him, and Byli could kill him...
"I got some nice bread and pork here for you, lassie, but first you got to do something nice for me."
She could smell the food, she really wanted it. "What do you mean..." she asked, though she knew in her heart it would be something insufferable.
"Nothing much, just be nice." He came closer, grinning like some feral polecat, and then grabbed her by the hair, twisting back her head and making her cry out in pain. "Be nice, or you'll get much worse! And NO food!" His other hand stroked her cheek, then her neck, then - NO she wouldn't have that! She would die first! Dropping her head, she sank her teeth into his wrist and clung on, biting until her teeth grated on the bones. Snarling, he smacked her in the face until she finally let go, but oh she fought on, striking out, clawing, kicking, with all her strength and fury, until she landed a good punch in his eye and he shoved her away. "Wildcat, oh we'll see how wild you are with no water OR food!" Cursing roundly, and clutching his badly broken wrist, he retreated from the cell, taking the food and water bucket with him.
Thrandili stood against the wall for some time, trembling with anger. She'd won this first fight. She had no illusions that she'd win the last. "Byli...Byli...please..." So whispering to herself, she sank down on the cold floor amongst the bones of her fellow captives, and watched as the candle light died into blackness.
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The morning light shone through a mirror in the bed chamber, reflected from the main chamber. Buhni sat besides Kandral's bed; she had done so for hours. How would she tell him, should she tell him? Surely his condition would take a turn for the worst if she did? But what if she didn't tell him, he would never forgive her.
Buhni was panicking. She felt fragile and her heart was heavy with desperation. She sighed in a tired whisper, at that moment Kandral woke and turned to Buhni. "Oh, well, those ten hours did the trick, I feel like...", Kandral said, then stopped suddenly. "What by Durin's beard is the matter?" Kandral knew that look, something was most definitely the matter, he braced himself for the news
