The War of the Jewels (52 page)

Read The War of the Jewels Online

Authors: J. R. R. Tolkien

BOOK: The War of the Jewels
12.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Hardang,(43) therefore, now stood up and turning to the assembly he began to recite the charge. 'This prisoner,' he said,

'whom you see before you, names himself Hurin Galdor's son, once of Dorlomin, but long in Angband whence he came hither.

Be that as it may.'(44)

But hereupon Manthor arose and came before the Stone. 'By your leave, my lord Halad and Folk!' he cried. 'As friend to the prisoner I claim the right to ask: Is the charge against him any matter that touches the Halad in person? Or has the Halad any grievance against him?'

'Grievance?' cried Hardang, and anger clouded his wits so that he did not see Manthor's trend. 'Grievance indeed! This is not a new fashion in headgear for the Moot. I come here with wounds new-dressed.'

'Alas!' said Manthor. 'But if that is so, I claim that the matter cannot be dealt with in this way. In our law no man may recite an offence against himself; nor may he sit in the seat of judgement while that charge is heard. Is not this the law?'

'It is the law,' the assembly answered.

'Then,' said Manthor, 'before this charge is heard some other than Hardang son of Hundad must be appointed to the Stone.'

Thereupon many names were cried, but most voices and the loudest called upon Manthor. 'Nay,' said he, 'I am engaged to one part and cannot be judge. Moreover it is the Halad's right in such a case to name the one who should take his place, as doubtless he knows well.'

'I thank you,' said Hardang, 'though I need no self-chosen lawman to teach me.' Then he looked about him, as if considering whom he should name. But he was in a black anger and all wisdom failed him. If he had named any of the headmen there present, things might have gone otherwise. But in an evil moment he chose, and to all men's wonder he cried: 'Avranc Dorlas' son! It seems that the Halad needs a friend also today, when lawmen are so pert. I summon you to the Stone.'

Silence fell. But when Hardang stepped down and Avranc came to the Stone there was a loud murmuring like the rumour of a coming storm. Avranc was a young man, not long wedded, and his youth was taken ill by all the elder headmen that sat there. [For he was not loved for himself. >] And he was not loved for himself; for though he was bold, he was scornful, as was Dorlas his father before him. / And dark tales were [struck out: still] whispered concerning Dorlas [struck out: his father, who had been Hardang's close friend];(45) for though naught was known for certain, he was found slain far from the battle with Glaurung, and the reddened sword that lay by him had been the sword of Brandir.(46)

But Avranc took no heed of the murmur, and bore himself airily, as if it were a light matter soon to be dealt with.

'Well,' he said, 'if that is settled, let us waste no more time!

The matter is clear enough.' Then standing up he continued the recital. 'This prisoner, this wild man,' he said, 'comes from Angband, as you have heard. He was found within our borders.

Not by chance, for as he himself declared, he has an errand here.

What that may be he has not revealed, but it cannot be one of good will. He hates this folk. As soon as he saw us he reviled us.

We gave him food and he spat on it. I have seen Orcs do so, if any were fools enough to show them mercy. From Angband he comes, it is clear, whatever his name be. But worse followed after. By his own asking he was brought before the Halad of Brethil - by this man who now calls himself his friend; but when he came into hall he would not name himself. And when the Halad asked him what was his errand and bade him rest first and speak of it later, if it pleased him, he began to rave, reviling the Halad, and suddenly he cast a stool in his face and did him great hurt. It is well for all that he had nothing more deadly to hand, or the Halad would have been slain. As was plainly the prisoner's intent, and it lessens his guilt very little that the worst did not happen, for which the penalty is death. But even so, the Halad sat in the great chair in his hall: to revile him there was an evil deed, and to assault him an outrage.

'This then is the charge against the prisoner: that he came here with evil intent against us, and against the Halad of Brethil in special (at the bidding of Angband one may guess); that gaining the presence of the Halad he reviled him, and then sought to slay him in his chair. The penalty is under the doom of the Moot, but it could justly be death.'

Then it seemed to some that Avranc spoke justly, and to all that he had spoken with skill. For a while no one raised a voice upon either side. Then Avranc, not hiding his smile, rose again and said: 'The prisoner may now answer the charge if he will, but let him be brief and not rave!'

But Hurin did not speak, though he strained against those that held him. 'Prisoner, will you not speak?' said Avranc, and still Hurin gave no answer. 'So be it,' said Avranc. 'If he will not speak, not even to deny the charge, then there is no more to do.

The charge is made good, and the one that is appointed to the Stone must propound to the Moot a penalty that seems just.'

But now Manthor stood up and said: First he should at least be asked why he will not speak. And to that question reply may be made by his friend.'

'The question is put,' said Avranc with a shrug. 'If you know the answer give it.'

'Because he is fettered [added: hand and foot],'(47) said Manthor. 'Never before have we dragged to the Moot in fetters a man yet uncondemned. Still less one of the Edain whose name deserves honour, whatsoever may have happened since. Yes,

"uncondemned" I say; for the accuser has left much unsaid that this Moot must hear before judgement is given.'

'But this is foolishness,' said Avranc. 'Adan or no, and whatever his name, the prisoner is ungovernable and malicious. The bonds are a needed precaution. Those who come near him must be protected from his violence.'

'If you wish to beget violence,' answered Manthor, 'what surer way than openly to dishonour a proud man, old in years of great grief. And here is one now weakened by hunger and long journeying, unarmed among a host. I would ask the folk here assembled: do you deem such caution worthy of the free men of Brethil, or would you rather that we used the courtesy of old?'

'The fetters were put on the prisoner by the order of the Halad,' said Avranc. 'In this he used his right for the restraint of violence in his hall. Therefore this order cannot be gainsaid save by the full assembly.'

Then there went up a great shout 'Release him, release him!

Hurin Thalion! Release Hurin Thalion!' Not all joined in this cry, yet there were no voices heard on the other side.

'Nay, nay! ' said Avranc. 'Shouting will not avail. In such a case there must be a vote in due form.'

Now by custom in matters grave or doubtful the votes of the Moot were cast with pebbles, and all who entered bore with them each two pebbles, a black and a white for nay and for yea.

But the gathering and counting would take much time, and meanwhile Manthor saw that with each moment the mood of Hurin grew worse.

'There is another way more simple,' he said. 'There is no danger here to justify the bonds, and so think all who have used their voice. The Halad is in the Moot-ring, and he can remit his own order, if he will.'

'He will,' said Hardang, for it seemed to him that the mood of the assembly was restive, and he hoped by this stroke to regain its favour. 'Let the prisoner be released, and stand up before you!'

Then the fetters were struck off Hurin's hands and feet.

Straightway he stood up, and turning away from Avranc he faced the assembly. 'I am here,' he said. 'I will answer my name.

I am Hurin Thalion son of Galdor Orchal,(48) Lord of Dorlomin and once a high-captain in the host of Fingon King of the North-realm. Let no man dare to deny it! That should be enough. I will not plead before you. Do as you will! Neither will I bandy words with the upstart whom you permit to sit in the high seat. Let him lie as he will! [Struck out: But if my friend wishes to speak and to set forth the truth of what has chanced, let him do so. Listen who will!]

'In the name of the Lords of the West, what manner of folk are you, or to what have you become? While the ruin of Darkness is all about you will you sit here in patience and hear this runagate guard ask for a doom of death upon me - because I broke the head of an insolent young man, whether in a chair or out of it? He should have learned how to treat his elders before you made him your Chieftain forsooth.

'Death? 'Fore Manwe, if I had not endured torment for twenty years and eight, if I were as at the Nirnaeth, you would not dare to sit here to face me. But I am not dangerous any longer, I hear. So you are brave. I can stand up unbound to be baited. I am broken in war and made tame. Tame! Be not too sure!' He lifted up his arms and knotted his hands.

But here Manthor laid a restraining hand on his shoulder, and spoke earnestly in his ear. 'My lord, you mistake them. Most are your friends, or would be. But there are proud freemen here too.

Let me now speak to them! '

Hardang and Avranc said naught, but smiled one to another, for Hurin's speech, they thought, did his part no good. But Manthor cried: 'Let the Lord Hurin be given a seat while I speak. His wrath you will understand better, and maybe forgive, when you have heard me.

'Hear me now, Folk of Brethil. My friend does not deny the main charge, but he claims that he was misused and provoked beyond bearing. My masters [struck out: and good wives],(49)I was captain of the march-wardens that found this man asleep by the Haud-en-Elleth. Or asleep he seemed, but he lay rather in weariness on the brink of awaking, and as he lay he heard, as I fear, words that were spoken.

'There was a man called Avranc Dorlas' son, I remember, as one of my company, and he should be there still, for such were my orders. As I came behind I heard this Avranc give counsel to the man who had first found Hurin and guessed at his name.

Folk of Brethil, I heard him speak thus. "It would be better to slay the old man asleep and prevent further trouble. And so the Halad would be pleased," said he.

'Now maybe you will wonder less that when I called him to full waking and he found men with weapons all about him, he spoke bitter words to us. One at least of us deserved them. Yet as for despising our food: he took it from my hands, and he did not spit upon it. He spat it forth, for it choked him. Have you never, my masters, seen a man half-starved who could not swallow food in haste though he needed it? And this man was in great grief also and full of anger.

'Nay, he did not disdain our food. Though well he might, if he had known the devices to which some who dwell here have fallen! Hear me now and believe me, if you may, for witness can be brought. In his prison the Lord Hurin ate with me, for I used him with courtesy. That was two days ago. But yesterday he was drowsed and could not speak clearly, nor take counsel with me against the trial today.' ]

'Little wonder in that!' cried Hardang.

Manthor paused and looked at Hardang. 'Little wonder indeed, my lord Halad,' he said; 'for his food had been drugged.'

Then Hardang in wrath cried out: 'Must the drowsy dreams of this dotard be recited to our weariness?'

'I speak of no dreams,' answered Manthor. 'Witness will will answer now. I took away from the prison food of which Hurin had eaten some. Before witnesses I gave it to a hound, and he lies still asleep as if dead. Maybe the Halad of Brethil did not contrive this himself, but one who is eager to please him.

But with what lawful purpose? To restrain him from violence, forsooth, when he was already fettered and in prison? There is malice abroad among us, Folk of Brethil, and I look to the assembly to amend it!'

At this there was great stir and murmur in the Moot-ring; and when Avranc stood up calling for silence, the clamour grew greater. At last when the assembly had quieted a little Manthor said: 'May I now continue, for there is more to be said?'

'Proceed!' said Avranc. 'But let your wind be shortened. And I must warn you all, my masters, to hear this man warily. His good faith cannot be trusted. The prisoner and he are close akin.'

These words were unwise, for Manthor answered at once: 'It is so indeed. The mother of Hurin was Hareth daughter of Halmir, once Halad of Brethil, and Hiril her sister was the mother of my mother. But this lineage does not prove me a liar.

More, if Hurin of Dorlomin be akin to me, he is kinsman of all the House of Haleth. Yea, and of all this Folk. Yet he is treated as an outlaw, a robber, a wild man without honour!

'Let us proceed then to the chief charge, which the accuser has said may bear the penalty of death. You see before you the broken head, though it seems to sit firm on its shoulders and can use its tongue. It was hurt by the cast of a small wooden stool. A wicked deed, you will say. And far worse when done to the Halad of Brethil in his great chair.

'But my masters, ill deeds may be provoked. Let any one of you in thought set himself in the place of Hardang son of Hundad. Well, here comes Hurin, Lord of Dorlomin, your kinsman, before you: head of a great House, a man whose deeds are sung by Elves and Men. But he is now grown old, dispossessed, grief-laden, travel-worn. He asks to see you. There you sit at ease in your chair. You do not rise. You do not speak to him. But you eye him up and down as he stands, until he sinks to the floor. Then of your pity and courtesy you cry: "Bring the old carl a stool!"

Other books

The Fugitives by Christopher Sorrentino
La sociedad de consumo by Jean Baudrillard
Earth Enchanted by Brynna Curry
The First Life of Tanan by Riley, Andrew
Allegiance by K. A. Tucker
Shipwrecked by Barbara Park