Egalmoth nudged Glorfindel’s good shoulder and nodded his head in the direction of the darkest corner of the room. “There he is again.”
The feast was over, and some still stayed and mingled in the hall that was being cleared. Others, such as Tauniel, had left already. She had excused herself in order to gather a few things to take to Salgant’s house for the evening after making Salgant promise he would see her husband safely to the harper’s house. Glorfindel would have left as well, but Turgon insisted that the lords stay and help host the remaining guests.
Glorfindel looked where he was bid to. “Maeglin.” He shook his head and sipped his wine. “Why does he stay so hidden?”
“You do not know? Look at where his gaze leads.” Egalmoth lifted a finger, and pointed slowly, connecting an imaginary path from the ellon in the corner and the vibrant young elleth standing near the center of the room. Idril was radiant as she always was, a perfect hostess for each of her father’s functions since the death of Aredhel. When Glorfindel looked back to the corner, he noted that Maeglin had slunk back further, so that now barely his eyes shone out from the darkness. “I wonder how our King can be so blind not to see it.”
“Perhaps he sees it, yet does not wish to upset either party?” Glorfindel shrugged. “I have heard of cases of cousins before.”
“And that is the fact that should worry our King, as it tends to run in his line.” As Egalmoth moved off to speak with someone else, the blond warrior nonchalantly took a few steps closer to the dark corner, and then a few more. Suddenly, the keen gaze fell upon him and he did not look away swiftly enough. Maeglin retreated, and Glorfindel suddenly realized he had alienated himself from the rest of the guests. Quickly, he rejoined the nearest group and added his commentary to the discussion of current politics, all the while watching for Maeglin to return.
A firm touch on his shoulder spun him around. “Follow me,” said Rog, and without further explanation began to walk to the doors. Glorfindel passed by a table and set down his goblet before doing his best to keep up with Rog, nearly having to drag his injured leg behind him as he went. They walked down the hallway and continued beyond the council chambers to a nearby room. The double doors were opened together, and the luminescence of the octagonal room made Glorfindel squint. “This is the judgment room. I do not believe you have been here before.”
“Not that I can recall,” said Glorfindel as he entered. The doors were closed behind them, and he saw now that Salgant and Galdor were in the room as well. The wall opposite the doors hosted a tall platform, upon which was a counter and a chair behind it. Whomever sat there would have view of the room from twice the height of any elf Glorfindel knew. Three walls on either side had lower platforms, but still they were raised above the floor and behind each counter there were chairs to seat up to six.
The center of the room was dominated by a sort of cage. It came up to shoulder height as Glorfindel paused next to it. Everything in the room was white, and the ceiling was mirrored, as were parts of the walls. Numerous white and clear gems adorned the tall counters and studded the corners, so that the lack of lit candles was made up for in the reflections of the light. There was one other spot that caught Glorfindel’s eye now that he adjusted his vision to the brilliance of the room. An area in front of the tallest counter had a lower cage around it, more like a fence with a gate. There were four chairs and ample room for standing. It was semicircular, with one spot just in the front that jutted out.
“You need to become comfortable in this room,” stated Rog as reason for the interruption from the party. “You will be there, unless something out of the ordinary happens.” Rog pointed to the spot below the front counter. “The King sits up in that chair overseeing the trial. Six houses will be called upon to act as jury. I will be here,” said Rog, stepping to the wall nearest the door on the right side.
“And I, here,” spoke Galdor as he sat down in one of the chairs in the middle of the three sections, on the opposite side from Rog.
Salgant opened the gate and stepped inside the area below the King’s platform. “I will be here with you, for I shall testify as to the events that transpired while the King was away. Enerdhil and his cohorts will be locked in the area there,” said Salgant as he pointed to the center of the room. “There will be four guards surrounding them and two guards posted on either side of our space here. They are for our protection, lest something should happen.”
Glorfindel nodded silently as the trial was explained to him, the charges that were being enforced upon Enerdhil and the expected outcome. He learned that the other three lords of the jury were to be Ecthelion, Voronwe, and Duilin; the names had been drawn at random after Enerdhil, Salgant, and he had been thrown out of the pool for obvious reasons. “The substitute, should something happen to one of the six before the trial, is Maeglin,” added Salgant as an afterthought.
“The Day of Explanation is set to begin in two weeks; the next day after that will be the Day of Defense. We will adjourn three days, and return for the Days of Questioning, which may be over quickly or may take a while. It really all depends on how hard Enerdhil wants to fight the charges. After another three day recess, we will convene again for the Day of Judgment. During the next two weeks, spend as much free time as you are able to in this room,” suggested Galdor. “Have lunch here. Stop by in the evenings. For that matter, take a nap here if you like. It is an intimidating place, and the more comfortable you are being here, the less likely you will be stressed over the trial.”
“You should probably have a drink or two before the days you are summoned to be here.” Rog further explained when he caught Glorfindel’s confused look. “Liquor relaxes, and it tends to make one more open and truthful. If the King knows you are doing that before the trial, he will merit higher credibility to your testimony.”
Glorfindel made a mental note not to drink at all on any of the days of the trial. Knowing what it did to Erestor, there was no need to worry that some truths best left hidden might surface.
His thoughts of Erestor reminded him suddenly of the times he had witnessed what an excess of drinking could do. Often he pushed the incidents out of mind, thinking it was some silliness that had come about because Erestor had lost control of his senses. Rog’s comment made Glorfindel wonder even more how much of what Erestor said while inebriated was fictitious and how much was actual fact.
“Are you well?” asked Galdor, breaking Glorfindel from his private musings.
“Oh, yes, sorry... it has all just been a little much for me today. I am still recovering and should be resting,” apologized Glorfindel.
Salgant nodded. “I think Turgon can forgive us if we slip away a little early.”
“Provided you return; he was hoping to have you play a little yet this evening,” said Rog to Salgant.
“Then I shall return as soon as I am able,” he said as they left the room.
Glorfindel found himself being whisked down the hallway, and he hobbled again to keep up. The dim lights in the corridors contrasted the previous room so sharply that he found himself dizzy by the time they were outdoors. “A moment,” he begged to Salgant. He leaned against the exterior bricks and panted slightly.
“Do not worry; we are not walking back.” Salgant nudged a lanky stablehand who had been napping against a set of steps. The lad hurriedly rose and sprinted towards one of the carriages without need of command from his master. “If you can manage entering the carriage, that is.”
“That I can do,” decided Glorfindel. As promised, he did, and promptly fell asleep as they set out for the House of the Harp.
