Far Horizons 10: Justice   

Calion Artamirion stared at the King’s House, built of a white stone that reflected the light, tall towers roofed with slate of gleaming pewter, the road leading between solid pillars into a broad courtyard.  Warriors guarded the entrance, but their presence appeared largely ceremonial, for no-one was refused entry and elves passed freely in and out of the wide gateway.

He swallowed convulsively; his throat far drier than it should be after his easy journey.  This was not the first time that he had ridden into this yard, but it was the first time he had feared the reception he would receive.  He knew that, had he or his brother been injured in such a way, his father would already have been before the king demanding vengeance.

His horse left to the care of the stable hands, Calion attempted to bat the dust of the road from his clothes.  Part of him said that he should take the time to change into his formal court robes, but the larger part told him that it would be pointless and that the sooner he faced the king, the sooner the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach would leave him.  One way or another he was here to face the king’s justice and he might as well get it done.

As soon as he gave his name to the court officials, he knew that word had reached Finarfin.  Despite the large number of people in the hall, they drew away from him as if afraid to be associated with him.  He was left standing in an empty circle, forcing himself to keep his head up and his face unmoved as he felt a trembling weakness creep into his limbs.  He could feel the eyes on him as a hundred hissed conversations debated his actions, not one of them doubting his guilt.  

‘Come with me.’  A dark elf in a dark burgundy robe demanded authoritatively. 

Calion managed no more than an enquiring look.

‘The High King will not see you until the offended parties arrive,’ the official explained. ‘He will hear both sides of the case at the same time – he does not wish to give anyone the opportunity to cry favouritism.  A room has been prepared where you will remain until Legolas Thranduilion is able to travel.  What you require will be brought to you, but you will remain confined until that time.’

The guest room was comfortably furnished and no prison, but Calion’s heart sank as the door closed behind him; the solid click of the latch sounding to him like the echo of doom.

***

‘He came voluntarily?’ Celeborn said in some surprise.

‘He said that his adar sent him,’ the official confirmed.  ‘He also said that he was innocent of any attempt to harm Thranduil’s son.’

‘It seems a foolish thing to say.  He must be aware that he was restrained within seconds of the attack with the bow still in his hand,’ Galadriel remarked.

‘So foolish that it makes one wonder,’ her adar mused. ‘Although I will come to no conclusion until I have spoken to those who witnessed the situation.  Matters appear to be sensitive and haste would not be sensible.  Elrond says they will be able to travel in a few days.  Calion will just have to wait.’

***

‘Elerrina was not happy, was she?’ Elladan said, as he rode close to Legolas on their way to court. ‘I mean, Miriwen was not thrilled to have us leave, especially after Adar and Thranduil gave us all their big talk on ensuring that they and the elflings were safe, but your wife was seriously on edge.’

His friend glanced his way.  ‘Of course, she had not just seen me injured, been warned that she and the infants might be in danger and then lost me, Adar and her brother to this journey – I’m surprised she did not insist on coming with us.’

‘She and Nisimalote and the little ones will be safe staying with Naneth.’

Drawing a sharp breath, Legolas gave a brief nod.  ‘They had better be,’ he said.

Elladan’s look was concerned.  ‘I told you that you were riding too soon.’

‘I want to get this over, my friend,’ the blond elf replied, shifting uncomfortably.  ‘Behind us and forgotten.’

His adar heard him and turned to exchange glances with Elrond.  ‘That will take a long time,’ he said soberly.  ‘The sooner we get this migration moving the better, Elrond.’  He hesitated. ‘I would like to send our sons to see what progress is being made.  The feeling seems to me to be developing a nasty edge and I think it would be a good idea to get them away for a while.’

‘They have been digging in too many ants’ nests,’ Elrond agreed. ‘Perhaps it is time to draw back and see what they have stirred up.  I would be happier to have them out of the way.  Their wives and elflings will be safe enough – we can guard them more easily than we can our sons.’

Thranduil laughed.  ‘We could not keep them safe when they were young enough for us to command – now they would listen politely and then go on and do as they thought best.  They want to go and see what Glorfindel is doing – I say, let them think they have won this concession.’

The road was well-travelled and the weather good, but the party felt little urge to take advantage of the conditions, lingering along the way and allowing other parties to pass them.   When, finally, they saw the King’s House before them, they drew to a halt and gazed ahead of them with reluctance before urging their horses forward.

‘Well – I do not suppose we can delay this any longer,’ Legolas sighed. 

***

Finarfin sat on his imposing throne, raised above the waiting elves on a dais, looking every inch a king.  His hair, flowing over his shoulders, reflected the light and darkened the forbidding expression on his face.

‘I have heard what you have to say,’ he judged, his voice cool and impartial. ‘The evidence is circumstantial.  All deny having seen the arrow fired -,’ his eyes wandered to those of Calion’s cronies with frosty disdain, ‘yet all agree that only Calion was armed.  He protests his innocence, yet none support his contention.  I fear that there is only one conclusion to which I can come.  You are guilty of an offence that, with less good fortune, would have caused the death of another.’

Calion closed his eyes and lowered his head, trying to absorb the horror of what was happening to him.  Finarfin would not sentence him to death; elves did not kill other elves. That principle was unbreakable: all knew of the horror of kinslaying.   The penalty for this was worse than a swift death – he would be exiled from all he knew and his name would be expunged from the records.  It would be as if he did not exist; none would see him, speak to him, provide him with aid.  He would be taken to the borders of the civilised lands and abandoned with no more than a knife to help him survive.

‘My lord king.’

The light but determined voice made him open his eyes.  Legolas Thranduilion, his arm still in its sling, stepped forward to a place before the throne and dropped elegantly to one knee.

‘I would ask a boon of you.’

The hall became quieter than ever.  What might be the request of the injured party in a situation such as this?  He was a prince of Middle Earth, a world where orcs and evil Men roamed freely.  The onlookers speculated swiftly as to what kind of demand he might make in revenge for his wounding.

‘Speak,’ the king commanded.

‘I would ask that the king shows mercy to Calion Artamirion.  I request that he should not suffer the penalty which the court is entitled to inflict.’

Finarfin ignored the rustle that went round the room and watched with interest as Thranduil’s face reddened and his jaw clenched.  Clearly his son’s plea did not sit well with the Woodland King. 

‘Why, Prince of Lasgalen?’ he enquired.  ‘There are few who would consider that you were being unreasonable should you ask for the full punishment that the court may exact to be imposed on your behalf.’

Remaining on one knee, Legolas looked up at the fair face of the king.  ‘I doubt, my lord, this action was intended.  The outcome outweighs the thought behind it.  I would not have the sentence compound that.’

Finarfin remained silent, considering the elf before him before turning his eyes to inspect the condemned.  Calion was regarding Legolas with bemusement.  How was it, his face seemed to say, that, at the point when his friends and his adar’s allies abandoned him, his chosen enemy should be the one to intervene on his behalf.

‘So be it,’ the king decided.  ‘As you have asked for clemency, I will grant it.’  He turned his frown back on the shaken offender.  ‘However, penalty will still be paid.  You, Calion Artamirion, will serve for a century as bondsman to Legolas Thranduilion, who will be your sworn lord.  You are his to command and you will obey him absolutely.  Do you understand?’

Considering the faces before him, Finarfin decided that he was unable to tell which of the young elves before him appeared more horrified by his decision. 

***

‘It is quite clear that you are Lady Galadriel’s adar!’  Thranduil snapped, too annoyed to pay any regard to the courtesy owed to the High King. ‘What in Arda made you come to a decision like that?’

‘Your son could withdraw his request for mercy,’ Finarfin suggested calmly.

‘You know he cannot!’ Thranduil turned his glare on Galadriel as she stood watching with interest.

‘I know he will not,’ corrected the king.  ‘He decided on his course of action long before he came before the court.  You will just have to live with the outcome.’  He looked at the other with amusement.  ‘You are very like my sons,’ he remarked casually. ‘Do not jump to the conclusion that I have decided this simply to annoy you – I do have reasons, which I am sure you can see if you think about it.’

‘I see your reasons,’ Thranduil replied grimly. ‘But I am the one who will have to live with your methods.’

‘It need not be that bad,’ Galadriel commented. ‘Calion must serve your son.  Nothing says that they need to be in the same place.’

The fire in Thranduil’s eyes would have blistered paint.  ‘If you believe that Legolas will command the little – fool – to keep his distance, then you do not know my son!’

Galadriel met his gaze disdainfully, reminding him that he could not intimidate her. ‘If you thought he would happily send Calion into exile, then neither do you!’

‘Peace,’ her adar insisted. ‘This takes me back to when you were in the nursery, my daughter. If you persist in squabbling, I will send you to your rooms.’

From his vantage point by the window, Celeborn laughed and his wife and cousin both turned scathing looks on him before turning their backs on each other.

Finarfin met his eyes and raised an eyebrow, only to have his son-in-law reply with a brief grin and a shake of his head.  ‘I am concerned about the ill-feeling that seems to be growing,’ the king said.  ‘I think it may be time for me to pay a visit to my granddaughter’s house.   Perhaps my authority will help the disaffected realise their duty – and the presence of my guard will ensure the safety of my family until you have had time to put other measures into operation.’  As Thranduil narrowed his eyes, Finarfin smiled.  ‘Do not take me for a fool, my lord,’ he added softly.  ‘I have been a king in these lands for a very long time.  Even here, the improvident do not survive.’

‘Well,’ Earwen broke in.  ‘I do not care why we are to visit my daughter and granddaughter.  All I hear is that I am to spend some time with my great-grandsons and their families – and become acquainted with that little elfling of Elladan’s.  I cannot think of a better way to spend some time.’

‘Perhaps Thranduil is concerned,’ Galadriel observed sharply.  ‘If Elrond’s house is kept secure, then his own might be made more of a target.  He would not care to see his family endangered.’

‘I can ensure the safety of my household,’ Thranduil snapped.

Her adar frowned at Galadriel thoughtfully, before continuing.  ‘Have you yet received reports from your exploratory group?  I am of the opinion that the announcement of the opening of these lands should be made as soon as possible and that small groups of skilled elves should be making their way towards the chosen site.’

Celeborn looked at him quizzically. ‘You know the chosen site, my lord king?’ he enquired, acid sharpening his voice.

‘How would I know that, my son?’ the king returned smoothly.  ‘I believe there has been little time for word to reach you yet.’  He flicked some unnoticeable fluff from his robes.  ‘However, I am aware that Glorfindel is decisive – and I am sure he will be anxious to get things moving swiftly.’  He looked up and smiled blandly. 

‘We are of the opinion, my lord king,’ Elrond spoke quickly, ‘that our sons should be sent to discover what progress is being made.’

‘Not alone,’ the king raised one hand to cup his jaw, tapping his forefinger thoughtfully on his lip.  ‘They will need an escort.  An escort I would trust with my life – and theirs.’  His eyes were piercing, Thranduil thought, suddenly finding an unexpected respect for this Noldor king. ‘But yes, it would be wise to remove them from the mix.  We will see to it.’

***

Legolas looked helplessly at the stiff figure on one knee in front of him, head bent, clad now in a hastily-adapted version of the green livery worn by the guard of the Woodland King, before lifting his eyes to regard the grinning twins behind his new bondsman. 

‘Oh, stand up!’ he said with exasperation.  ‘There is no need for you to kneel every time you see me.’  He watched as the other rose, his eyes still averted from the fair-haired prince. ‘I will make it an order, if that is the only thing that will stop you,’ he added. ‘It is unnecessary and embarrassing – and I will not have it.’ Legolas looked helplessly at his friends.  ‘This was not my idea,’ he continued,  ‘and I do not want to have you in my service – but there seems to be little we can do about it, so we need to work out some way in which to deal with it.’

‘But first,’ Elladan remarked coolly into the ear of the elf in front of him, ‘I am going to issue you with a warning.  I will be watching your every move,’ he said.   ‘Any threat to my friend, or any member of his family, or household, or race – and I will have a knife at your throat faster than you can say Feanor – understood?’

‘I have given my word,’ Calion said awkwardly.  ‘Before the High King, I swore that I would serve loyally for the term demanded.’

‘What value can be placed on the word of an elf who would deliberately injure another?’ Elrohir asked with deceptive mildness.

‘Enough!’  Legolas snapped.  ‘This whole situation is difficult enough, without you two making it worse!  Can you imagine how Calion’s adar and brother are going to react to this?’

‘My adar disowned me before sending me to the king,’ Calion told them. ‘He did not wish his house to be tarnished by my crime,’ he added bitterly. ‘In public, my brother will accept his command.  The one who will cause trouble will be my naneth.’

‘Nevertheless,’ Elrohir commented, a little touch of compassion stirring in him, ‘it would be one thing to have you sent beyond reach, when they could pretend nothing had happened.  It will be very different to have you placed in front of them, serving a sentence as a bondsman.  Much harder to ignore.’

‘Which is, of course, the point,’ Legolas sighed. ‘I am afraid that you are being held up as an example, to remind both sides what might happen if we refuse to learn to get on with each other.’  He inspected the slight, dark-haired elf.  ‘And we will get on,’ he said grimly.  ‘I will be trusting you to protect my family, on the assumption that you understand better than I do from what they will need protection.’

‘Is not that a little impulsive?’ Elrohir said dubiously.

‘He will not be alone in his duty,’ Legolas pointed out. ‘There will be others involved – some of whom he will know and others whom he will not.’

‘Set a thief to catch a thief,’ Elladan quoted, eying Calion narrowly.  ‘Calion must have information that will be useful to us.  The first thing you can require of him is that he tells you all he knows.’

‘I know little,’ he replied harshly.  ‘I do not expect you to believe me, but I have never been party to any secrets worth knowing.’ He looked at Legolas seriously.  ‘I am sworn to your service now, my lord, and I will perform my duty to the best of my ability, but I will not break my word. I am disgraced in the eyes of the world, but I hold to my honour.’

‘We will see about that,’ Legolas concluded. ‘This will not be easy for you,’ he added with some sympathy, ‘but I do not believe it was intended to be.  We will have to see how things develop.’