In Darkness Bound by Fiondil

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Chapter 124: The High King’s Justice

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124: The High King’s Justice

Námo stared down at the sword sticking out of him. It had sliced through his fana from the left side (Ingwion, tall as he was, was nowhere as tall as the Vala) and had ended up in the middle of his abdomen only because Námo had had the presence of mind to grab the sword hilt at the last moment to stay its momentum. Ingwion immediately let go and fell back several paces though he didn’t get very far as suddenly Manveru and Erunáro were there along with Eönwë and they all had looks of horror and dismay on their fair faces as they watched the Lord of Mandos. Ingwion’s own eyes were just a little too wide as the import of what he had done impinged upon his consciousness. All around them was absolute silence. Even Ingoldo was shocked into immobility at the sight of his nephew skewering the Lord of Mandos. Námo sighed and began pulling the sword out of him. There was no sign of blood anywhere to the mystification of the onlookers. He grimaced, his expression not so much of pain (he ignored what pain there was, shunting it aside as his fana immediately began repairing itself) but of disgust as he dropped the sword and glared at Ingwion, who was now whimpering in Erunáro’s arms.

"Do you know what my wife is going to say to me when I return home looking like this?" he asked in a dangerously soft voice, gesturing at the huge tear in his black velvet robes. "Can you even imagine the grief I will get from her?"

The Elves simply stared at the Vala, trying to comprehend what the Doomsman of Arda was saying. Then Arafinwë, in spite of the gravity of the situation, found himself snickering. Everyone, including Námo, turned to stare at the ellon in disbelief.

"Sorry," the Noldo said with an unrepentant grin. "I had this sudden image of the Lady Vairë standing over you while you mended your own robes and complaining about how sloppy your stitches were."

"Yonya," Olwë said in a faint voice. "This is not the time for levity."

"Perhaps not," Námo said with a quirk of his lips, "but Arafinwë knows of what he speaks." He then turned back to Ingwion. "And who’s bright idea was it to let you carry a sword, Ingwion?"

"A-a-atto," the ellon stuttered.

"Hmmm...." Námo gave Ingwë a sideways glance. Ingwë gave him a shrug in return, his expression rueful and apologetic, not really having any defense. Námo turned his attention to the Maiar. "And where were you two in all of this?" he asked Manveru and Erunáro.

The Elves on the platform had the dubious pleasure of watching the Maiar squirm. Erunáro even gulped. "He took us by surprise," Manveru answered for them both. "He’s been behaving himself and so we... um... well...."

"Hmmm...." Námo gave the Maiar a skeptical look. Then he turned to Ingwion. "Pick up the sword," he commanded.

Ingwion blinked, unsure what he was hearing. "Th-the sword?"

"Pick it up," Námo commanded again and when Erunáro let him go, he complied to the Vala’s orders, being careful to keep the sword point down. Námo then turned to Arafinwë and Olwë still holding onto Ingoldo. "Let him go," he ordered and the two kings complied with alacrity, stepping away from the ellon. Then Námo glared at Ingoldo who went white as a sheet. "If you move, I will do terrible things to you," the Lord of Mandos threatened and Ingoldo gulped. "And don’t even think about fainting, either." Ingoldo shook his head.

Námo then stepped back so that Ingwion and Ingoldo were facing each other. "Very well, Ingwion. You wanted to kill your uncle, go right ahead. I said don’t move, Ingoldo!" The Vala’s voice was colder than anything the Elves had ever experienced. Some of the more sensitive of the onlookers actually fainted and there were suddenly pockets of activity within the crowd as concerned friends and family hovered over their hapless loved ones. The people on the platform ignored it all as Ingwion just stared at his uncle.

"What?" Námo demanded, his expression scathing. "Not two minutes ago you were all set to strike him down and now you are not?"

Ingwion dropped the sword and covered his face with his hands and started weeping. Námo let him cry for a moment or two, then nodded once to himself, as if satisfied with what he saw. "Pick up the sword, Ingwion, and return to your post," he said in a kinder voice.

Ingwion wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his sleeves, picked up the sword and returned to stand behind Ingwë’s throne, refusing to look at anyone. Ingwë started to turn to speak to his son, but he caught Námo’s eyes and changed his mind. Námo looked at Ingoldo. "Go sit down, Ingoldo, and you two take your seats as well." He gestured to Arafinwë and Olwë and all three ellyn complied with the Vala’s commands, all three suddenly feeling like naughty elflings being reprimanded by an adult. Námo stared down at his robe, picking at the edges of the tear that ran from front to back and shook his head in disgust. "The charge of murder can be dropped," he said without looking up. "Ingoldo did not deliberately kill Ingalaurë, though his actions led to the ellon’s death."

"How can you be so sure?" Valandur asked, blinking in surprise at his own audacity.

Námo looked up and actually smiled, but no one there thought that was necessarily a good thing. Before he could answer the loremaster, though, Ingoldo stood up, looking pleadingly at Ingwë. "I swear, Brother, I never meant for this to happen. I never meant for anyone to die, certainly not someone so young."

"Hmmm... young, yes," Námo said with narrowed eyes. "A relative term at best. Be that as it may, to answer your question, Valandur, I was there the entire time everyone was busily running around the manor house. I witnessed it all. What role Ingoldo played in Ingalaurë’s death will need to be discovered by you, but he did not murder the ellon. All other charges against Lord Ingoldo may stand as entered into the pleadings. Now, I’ve spent more than enough time here." He turned to where the three Maiar still stood. "Manveru, Erunáro, let’s go have a little chat with Manwë." The people on the platform thought they heard one of the Maiar actually moan but they were never really sure. "Eönwë will remain here to see that there are no further... upsets." Námo looked pointedly at Ingwion, who gulped and nodded. "Good. Carry on, Children," he said even as he gestured to the two Maiar and the three faded from everyone’s view.

For the longest time, no one moved. Then Ingwë, who was still standing, turned to look at his son. "We’ll talk later," he said softly and Ingwion cringed at the tone but said nothing, keeping his eyes lowered. Then the High King glanced at Intarion and Lindarion. "Keep him in line," he ordered and the two ellyn nodded vigorously. Ingwë resumed his seat. "Stay standing, Ingoldo, and let’s get on with it. The charge of murder has been dropped. We will concentrate on the other charges as read. How do you plead, Brother?"

Ingoldo licked his lips. "Not guilty," he declared, then resumed his seat, ignoring the murmurings of the crowd.

Ingwë merely nodded, as if he had expected such a reply. He turned to Valandur and Lindórië. "Call your witnesses," he commanded.

The two Questioners bowed from their seats and Valandur looked at a piece of vellum on which were written several names and called the first one. "The Crown calls...."

****

When he re-clothed himself in one of the smaller audience halls in Ilmarin where he knew Manwë was holding court, Námo deliberately appeared with torn tunic, though it would have been easy enough to have repaired the damage with a single thought. Manwë was sitting with Varda, Oromë and Aulë, while Varda’s chief Maia, Ilmarë, stood nearby ready to be of service. They all looked up at the precipitous arrival of the Lord of Mandos and two very shaken Maiar.

Manwë took in the scene at a glance and raised a delicate eyebrow. "A little trouble?" he asked innocently.

Námo had a sudden urge to slap the Elder King up side his head. Then he took a deep breath, recognizing the anger, not to mention the embarrassment, he was feeling and sent a silent plea to Atar for strength and guidance. A faint wave of love tinged with amusement swept over him and he relaxed. "You could say that."

"So who was the lucky idiot who did that to you and is he now residing in Mandos for his troubles?" Oromë enquired with a snigger, pointing at Námo’s robes.

"No one is in Mandos who doesn’t belong there," Námo retorted a little more coldly than he had intended, stung by the implications of Oromë’s question.

Oromë recognized the undertone of hurt in Námo’s voice and stood to face his fellow Vala, giving him a warm embrace. "Of course not, Little Brother," he said softly. "Please forgive me."

Námo had stiffened in Oromë’s embrace, but when he heard the genuine love in his fellow Vala’s voice he relaxed and allowed Oromë to soothe him for a moment before stepping out of his embrace.

"Actually, it was Ingwion doing his level best to take Ingoldo down with a sword. I happened to... um... get in the way."

"And where did young Ingwion obtain a sword?" Manwë asked, stealing a glance at his two Maiar still standing at attention.

"Oh, don’t blame them," Námo said, taking a chair and accepting a glass of miruvórë from Ilmarë. "It was Ingwë’s brilliant idea." He took a sip of his drink and then shook his head. "Ingwion has been... behaving lately so everyone apparently thought it was fine not to keep too close an eye on him. Isn’t that so, Manveru, Erunáro?"

The two Maiar winced at the Vala’s acerbic tone.

"Ah...." Manwë said, nodding in understanding and gave his two Maiar a shrewd look. The two Maiar tried not to cringe under their lord’s regard. "And Eönwë? I was rather surprised when you so precipitously ordered him to follow you. I was even more surprised when he obeyed without even looking to me for permission."

"Sorry about that," Námo replied with genuine regret. "I left Eönwë to keep an eye on things and you know that he would eventually be called to testify on our behalf, verifying what all the other witnesses will say."

"Hmmm...." Manwë’s tone was somewhat skeptical but he did not pursue the matter further, turning his attention to Manveru and Erunáro. "And what excuse do you have, my children?"

"None, lord," Manveru said promptly and Erunáro nodded. "Ingwion’s recent behavior led us to believe that he was on the mend and we allowed ourselves to be lulled into a false sense of security."

"Irmo," Manwë said softly and a flash of multi-colored lights coalesced into the fana of the Lord of Lórien.

"Ingwion’s state of mind is still precarious," the Vala said without preamble, as if he’d been a part of the conversation from the beginning, taking the seat proffered by Ilmarë who then handed him a glass of miruvórë. "His recent good behavior is not a true indicator of his mental health. His need to ‘save’ his twin is the underlying motive for everything he does. He’s become a predator, biding his time for the right moment to strike." He turned to his brother. "But something happened to trigger him into attacking without forethought."

Námo nodded. "When the charge of murder was laid on him, Ingoldo protested rather vehemently and then in a fit of pure nastiness declared that if he were going to murder anyone it would have been Ingwion."

Irmo shook his head, uttering a grunt of disgust. "These Children have so much darkness in them, they don’t even realize it, can’t even recognize it in themselves or in others."

"A lesson they are only just beginning to learn," Manwë said sadly. "And a lesson for us all." He turned to the two Maiar. "Until and unless Lord Irmo tells you otherwise, assume young Ingwion is still sáma-hlaiwa and act accordingly. Go and resume your duties."

The two Maiar hesitated. "You’re not going to punish us, lord?" Manveru asked meekly.

Manwë’s lips quirked into a half-smile. "If you don’t think minding a half-crazed child punishment enough...."

"No, lord. Thank you, lord." the Maia replied hastily and with proper bows to the Valar, the two thought themselves away, grateful to have gotten off so lightly for their dereliction.

Aulë chuckled and even Námo grinned. "You’re much too soft on your Maiar, Manwë," he said with a condescending air.

Manwë’s response was a snort. "First I’m too soft on my thrall and now I’m too soft on my Maiar. Perhaps I should turn my office over to you, Námo, since you’re always complaining about how I run things."

Námo waved a negligent hand in dismissal. "Sorry. I have my own concerns, but you’re right. Guarding Ingwion in his state is no picnic. Ingwë was this close to taking the sword and skewering his son, he was so angry." He held up his right finger and thumb so they were a bare inch apart.

The others sighed in dismay. Then Varda gave Námo a wicked smile. "Don’t you think you should repair your clothes before Vairë sees you?"

Aulë laughed out loud. "You’d better hurry, Little Brother," he said. "You know how quickly news travels among us. Vairë’s bound to come looking for you."

Námo rolled his eyes, but nodded in agreement and with a single thought the damage was repaired. He doubted even his beloved wife would be able to tell where the tear had been. "Getting back to the trial," he said, ignoring the amused looks on everyone else’s faces, "How do you think Ingwë will rule?"

"I doubt he will send his brother to the mines with the others," Aulë replied with a snort, "though frankly that’s where he belongs for all the grief he’s caused."

"I would imagine exile would be the proper judgment," Manwë said, "though not to Formenos. I will not allow it."

Námo wasn’t the only one there to raise an eyebrow at that bald statement, but none of them questioned Manwë’s right to make such a declaration.

"Well, it should be interesting to see what happens," Varda said.

"The sooner they are done with this, the sooner we can move on to more important matters," Námo said with a huff. "We need to address the problem of how to heal Aman as a whole from the recent depredations even after we launch the Great Lights."

"And that is a task I think you and Irmo can handle together," Manwë said. Námo and Irmo glanced at one another, shrugged almost as one, and then gave Manwë nods of assent.

"And I think our first project should be Ingwion," Námo said.

"Agreed," Irmo replied.

"So in the meantime, why don’t we look in on the trial and see what is happening?" Varda suggested and they all agreed to that.

****

Ingwë sat staring at his brother while around him everyone waited. All the witnesses had been called forward and given testimony. Even Arafinwë, Ingwion and Intarion had given statements. Lady Ancalimë had explained how she had decided to remove her entire household to Eldamas after the Darkening and had entrusted the keys to her manor house to Lady Tinwetariel. No, she had been unaware that Lord Ingoldo had taken advantage of her absence to use her house to hold the queen and princess. Tinwetariel had then explained how she had promised to have her friend’s house looked after and had asked Ingoldo to make the proper arrangements. No, she did not realize what he was doing until the end and then it was too late for her to do anything about it.

The evidence was certainly damning and Valandur and his people had done a credible job of interviewing the witnesses and gathering the information needed for the trial. Not even Ingoldo could complain that Valandur had been anything but scrupulous in his endeavors.

When given the opportunity to offer his own defense, Ingoldo had simply replied that he had done what he did because he did not think Ingwë capable of leading the Vanyar in these troubled times. "When our people needed you most, where were you? Not in Vanyamar where you belonged. You were more interested in following after the Valar and being their lackey to the Noldor than you were in looking after your own people. Someone had to step in and lead and that someone was me. You didn’t seriously think Elindis was up to it or your sons, did you?" Ingoldo’s sneer stung but Ingwë merely pointed out that he had asked Ingoldo to help Elindis until he returned, not take over completely. Ingoldo’s answer to that was a shrug.

So, the evidence against his brother was clear. Yet, something nagged at Ingwë and he was unsatisfied with one aspect of the whole sorry affair.

"I am unclear about one thing, Ingoldo," he said suddenly, startling more than one person. "When you and Ingalaurë came to the manor house, how was it that your people were able to set up the trap so quickly? Indeed, how did they know that they should, for I get the impression that you knew about it beforehand."

For a moment it looked as if Ingoldo would not answer but finally he shrugged. "When I gave Lemenyon his orders, I told him that I would never come to the manor house. To do so would draw suspicion, for what reason would I have to be there when all knew the house was supposed to be empty? No. I told him if ever I showed up there it was because I was there against my will and he and his men should arrange a trap for anyone who was accompanying me."

"So, Ingalaurë, Tamurilon and Sérener were supposed to die," Ingwë said tonelessly.

Ingoldo shook his head. "No one was supposed to die," he protested. "I gave explicit orders that actual harm was not to be done, but the ellon who struck Lemenyon down by mistake exceeded those orders. I was as shocked as anyone when I saw the knife plunge into poor Lemenyon’s back."

Ingwë sighed, feeling a headache coming on and wishing he could just hand it all over to someone else, anyone else, but he could not. The onus of judgment was his and his alone. In spite of his distrust of anything Ingoldo might say he actually believed his brother would never countenance another’s death. That, perhaps, was his one saving grace.

"I should send you to the mines along with the others," he said and there were shocked gasps from many throats. He even heard Tinwetariel start to wail, the sound suddenly cut off but he refused to look to see what was happening. No doubt Elindis or more likely Indis was responsible for shutting the elleth up. Ingoldo, he noticed, had turned white. "Unfortunately, I don’t think my nobles would allow it. Yet, you must be punished, Ingoldo. I cannot in good conscience let you go free. So the only other option is exile. The question is where?"

"Not Formenos," Eönwë announced suddenly from where he was standing to the left of the thrones. Ingwë gave him an enquiring look. "My Lord Manwë has just informed me that Formenos is closed to the Eldar at this time."

"Then I must consider another place," Ingwë said.

"Atar’s hunting lodge," Arafinwë said suddenly.

"Hunting lodge?" Ingwë asked, trying to remember if he’d ever been there.

Arafinwë nodded. "I actually don’t recall Atar ever using it. Turcafinwë was the one who used it more than anyone else in the family as it lies just within the northern border of Lord Oromë’s demesne. It’s probably about the same size as your lodge and rather primitive in its appointments. The privy is outside, for instance, and there is no way to heat water through pipes as is done here or in Tirion. You have to heat the water on the stove and water is gotten from a well."

"Yet, how do I ensure that Ingoldo stays there and doesn’t wander off?" Ingwë asked. "I have no intention of sending guards with him."

Eönwë stepped forward. "As the lodge is within Lord Oromë’s demesne, he can see to securing the area."

Ingwë gave the Maia a sardonic look. "The same way the Valar secured Formenos?"

Eönwë actually blushed. "We learned our lessons from that," he said softly. "But in point of fact, Lord Ingoldo would be free to wander Lord Oromë’s Forest but would not be allowed to step beyond the forest eaves, though anyone else would be free to come and go as they pleased."

Ingwë thought about it for a moment, then looked at Olwë and Arafinwë to gauge their reactions. The two kings leaned towards Ingwë so they could hold a private conversation.

"If we have Lord Oromë’s assurances, then I think it would work," Arafinwë said. "I would prefer though that Ingoldo not be allowed to roam all of the Forest. I think one small part would be sufficient for his needs."

"Agreed," Ingwë said, "but it might not be practical so we will have to let Lord Oromë set the parameters of Ingoldo’s.... imprisonment."

"There is another alternative," Olwë said. When the other two looked at him, he gave them a cold smile. "Tol Eressëa."

Both Arafinwë and Ingwë blinked at Olwë for a moment, trying to process what they had heard and then Ingwë smiled and nodded.

"That might work," he whispered. "The island’s been abandoned for some time. Is it even safe for anyone to live there?"

"My people have often stopped there on their way to and from favored fishing grounds further south. They’ve told me that there is plenty of game and fruit-growing trees. We can have a house built on the west side of the island closest to the mainland. It would be easy enough to send supplies over whenever needed, things that he would not be able to obtain on the island. And there’s nowhere to go and no way off unless by boat."

"It solves a lot of problems," Arafinwë admitted and Ingwë nodded. The other two ellyn sat back and Ingwë looked at Ingoldo, gesturing for him to rise.

"Given the evidence against thee, my brother," he said, "and given Our own experiences in these matters, We have no choice but to render a verdict of guilty to all charges. We therefore exile thee for a term of years to be decided later, though it will not be for as long as the term given to Fëanáro."

"And where will I go and with whom?" Ingoldo asked sounding resigned.

"Tol Eressëa," came the answer.

Ingoldo went white with shock and the onlookers murmured in surprise. Intarion happened to be looking at Ingwion at that moment and saw something indefinable in the ellon’s eyes. Later experience would teach him that what he was seeing was unholy glee and a cunning that was almost predatory. Ingwion was already plotting. Instinctively, Intarion put a hand on his cousin’s shoulders and leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"Don’t even think about it," he admonished him and was pleased to see the ugly light in Ingwion’s eyes go out.

"But, it’s deserted," Ingoldo protested, looking pained. "There’s nothing there."

"Which is the whole point," Ingwë said acerbically. "Oh, fear not. I will permit you one or two servants to accompany you. Tulcaner probably will go with you. We have no real evidence that he did anything other than to obey your commands and he was very careful not to exceed them or be caught doing something contrary to law. I’m sure he’s as guilty as you in spite of lack of evidence so exile for him will be no picnic either. Your wife may accompany you if she wishes, or she may reside here or go wherever she pleases until your exile is over."

He stood up, and the other two kings rose as well. "We have rendered Our verdict and have passed sentence. Lord Ingoldo, thou and thy servant, Tulcaner, will be taken to Tol Eressëa where you will reside until such time as We decide otherwise." He gave his brother an impassive look. "I do hope you take the opportunity to meditate on your past deeds and resolve to mend your ways, Brother, or your exile will last a very long time." He gestured to the guards. "Escort Lord Ingoldo to his apartments. He will remain there until travel arrangements can be made. This Court is adjourned."

Without even waiting for his chamberlain to make the proper announcement, Ingwë strode off the platform as if he could not get away fast enough. Arafinwë and Olwë were right behind him. Lindarion, Ingwion and Intarion scrambled to catch up while Valandur and Lindórië gave each other bemused looks even as they hastily joined the exodus. Sérener gestured to the guards who surrounded a still stunned Ingoldo and politely, but firmly, hustled him off the platform as well, leaving only Eönwë standing there, shaking his head in amusement as he faded from view.

****

Sáma-hlaiwa: Literally, mind-sick; mentally ill.

Note: Turcafinwë is better known as Celegorm, who was wont to spend time with Lord Oromë and learn from him the tongues of birds and beasts.