A/N: Have you ever seen "Bells Are Ringing" with Judy Holliday? I can hear her voice in my ears at this moment. What a marvellous comic actress she was. "The Party's Over" was her signature song from that film. 

Chapter 12. The Party's Over

All talk cut off as quickly as the slamming of a door. The soldiers looked at one another, down at their plates, which they didn't know quite how they'd come to be holding, and didn't know now what to do with them, and then at the grim face of the Steward, the fever-flushed face of Hunethon, Balanurthon's assistant, standing beside him, and the expressionless faces of the guardsmen at the ready behind them.

'Clear away,' Merry said into the silence, and the servitors quickly began to collect plates and mugs.

'Are you all bewitched?' the Steward said in outrage, advancing on Haleth. 'This is a gallows, not a celebration hall!' He swept the area with a furious glance. 'You are all under arrest!' he said, and turned to wave the newly arrived guardsmen into the fray, and so Haleth and his men found themselves surrendering not only plates and mugs but swords as well.

Tulerion took advantage of the commotion to take up one of the mugs he'd held ready, between his feet, for just this contingency, and pressing past the guards flanking Will he thrust the mug into the young man's hands. 'Quickly,' he said, his tone brooking no contradiction. 'Drink it all!'

Will complied without question, and a near thing it was, for he'd just drained the contents when the mug was knocked away, to fall clattering on the ground, and his hands jerked behind him and bound securely by a muttering guardsman. Tulerion engaged in a short tugging match with a serving man over the second mug, as he turned towards the scaffold where the old man still sat, but it was too late--already guardsmen had pulled Jack onto the ground and were holding him up, that his hands might be bound. And so Tulerion poured out the contents of that mug on the ground, that none might drink it by mischance.

Merry drew himself up to his fullest height, staring up to meet the Steward's eyes. 'These servitors must go free,' he said. 'They were merely following orders, doing what they were hired to do.'

The Steward nodded sourly, waving the serving men away, and these were happy to gather the last of their baskets full of used cutlery and dishes and trays of emptied platters and depart, and Tulerion, though he was healer and not servitor, took up his bag in one hand and a basket in the other and departed in their midst, for there was nothing more that he could do in that place. He had done all that was in his power, and it would have to be enough. He expected no pay for this afternoon's work, for it was as the old saying among healers, Though the draught did its work, the patient died.

Sam and Pippin clustered together, watching the bustle, something more than dismay in their faces. Pippin knew that the whole had been a gamble; he'd had the same feeling as he'd learned in Minas Tirith, of rolling the "bones" between his palms and tossing them, repeatedly, as the stakes piled ever higher before him. He'd had no choice but to continue rolling, in the current situation, whereas in Minas Tirith he'd known when to take his winnings and quit, rather than risking all on a bad toss.

But the luck had turned against him at last, and Jack and Will were the losers.

It was difficult to stand still, but the hobbits could sense the fury radiating from the Steward, and rather than incite more frightful punishment to fall upon Haleth and his men, Pippin and Sam stood silent and still, and Merry joined them as soon as the servitors and healer were safely away. It was the first quiet moment they'd had that day, since Diamond had come shaking and weeping to Pippin, to tell him of the danger to Jack and the boys. He had wanted to soothe her, but she pushed him away, and as the story spilled from her in sobs he had understood and burst into a frenzy of activity, pulling Bergil and Hilly, Merry and Sam into the whirl before he took off at a run to intercept the guardsmen marching to the arrest. And now the cost was mounting... not just the penalty to Jack and Will, but the guardsmen who'd arrested them as well...

Haleth and his men and the gallows guards were lined up to one side, their scabbards empty, all standing at stiffest attention while the Steward stalked from one end of the line to the other. 'Balanurthon will have to hire more assistants, it seems, to handle all the floggings the morrow shall hold,' he said darkly. 'That is, if he is not found in dereliction of his duty. If that is discovered to be the case, he may just find himself testing one of his own ropes in an entirely new way.'

Falathar moved uneasily, and the Steward turned to the gallows guard. 'Well?' he snapped. 'What is it? Speak!'

'Balanurthon was called away by order of the King,' Falathar said tonelessly, staring straight ahead of himself.

'By order of the King,' the Steward echoed, raising a sceptical eyebrow. 'The King is not in the City.'

Falathar swallowed nervously. He'd already been promised a flogging, and he didn't want worse. 'Captain Bergil himself came, in great haste,' he said, 'and took Balanurthon away with him. Balanurthon was not here to perform the hangings when these prisoners arrived, not long after, and Hunethon...'

'I know where Hunethon was,' the Steward said coldly. 'I rousted him out of his sickbed myself, when word came to me that the King's justice was being disgracefully neglected this day.' He regarded the gallows guards with a thoughtful look. 'Captain Bergil...' he said, and turned. 'Sergeant, send word to the Citadel. I want Captain Bergil found and sent to me here.'

'Sir!' the new come sergeant said smartly, saluting, and spun on his heel. An entire unit, arrested and to be flogged, and who knew if their sergeant would draw a stiffer penalty than that! The Steward was in a foul mood, indeed, and he certainly did not want to fall afoul of the man.

***

Bergil was not at the Citadel, at that moment. He was riding at full speed, pushing his mount hard, Balanurthon's mount to one side and slightly behind him, both of them following Elessar's swift steed, running lightly ahead though double-burdened with King and hobbit. He only hoped they would come in time...

Bergil!' Queen Arwen had said in surprise, coming forward to meet him as he strode into the receiving room where she sat at tea with the wife and daughters of Elessar's kinsman. 'What brings you here from the city? Is there some message, some emergency?'

'An emergency, for certain,' Bergil answered, sweeping the room for sight of the King. But only women were to be seen... Any other day he'd have welcomed the sight. 'Lives hang in the balance, my Lady. I must find the King at once!'

'At once,' she agreed, taking his arm and turning him towards the door.

He had the feeling she'd read the entire story from his soul in one quicksilver glance, for she showed no surprise at seeing Hilly and Balanurthon waiting, as she walked with him swiftly out of the hunting lodge.

'The men are fishing,' Arwen said, and issued swift orders. It was not long before she was riding before them, leading the King's horse, to a secluded stream, the thunder of their horses' hoofs alerting the fishermen to their approach, so that the King stood waiting as they reined to a stop.

Seeing Hilly on the saddle before Bergil, Elessar's eyebrows raised in surprise.

'It's Jack!' Hilly blurted. 'Jack and his sons have been found out, arrested, and your Steward has ordered their hanging!'

'Jack...' Elessar said, for he'd heard but brief mention of the name, ten years earlier.

'The man who saved me from the bog,' Hilly said. 'The man who saved Farry and Pip-lad from the waterfall...'

'Arrested!' Elessar said. 'Why?' And in the next breath he knew. The man who saved Hilly from the bog... he hadn't known that Jack was involved in Hilly's deadly peril. He'd heard how the hobbit had thrown Pippin's son to safety, but not how Hilly himself was saved. If it was Jack who saved Hilly then the man must have been deep in the heart of the Shire at the time.

He lunged forward to seize the rein of his horse and leapt into the saddle. 'Ride with me, Hildibold,' he said, reaching to lift the hobbit from Bergil's saddle to his own. 'My horse is fresh, and we'll go all the faster.'

'Pippin is delaying them,' Hilly said. 'But I don't know how long...'