A passion for Mushrooms

Red Handed

It was Gloin who stopped Bilbo and Thorin kissing, some minutes later. “If you two âzyungâl-mizim feel like coming up for air any time soon, you might notice that Dori, the elf, and I have found your poisoner.”

Bilbo blinked a little absently. He still felt very weak, wanting nothing more than tea and bed. If he could not have those until Darro returned then he would rather snuggle up to Thorin while he waited. Besides which, Gloin was incorrect. Tauriel, Dori, and Gloin had found the body of man who gave Bilbo the plate. They had not found the true culprit.

“He was stuffed in a closet two floors up, this coin purse shoved in his mouth to keep him silent. The elf found him. She’s a good enough tracker, I’ll give her that.”

“Or perhaps she knew precisely where the body was to be found,” Doron suggested darkly.

Thorin’s eyes narrowed slightly, looking at Tauriel. Bilbo decided to uproot those suspicious before they had time to grow.

“Please,” he snorted, “Tauriel was able to track us through woods so thick I could hardly see the path at noon. She’s spent six hundred years tracking quarry a lot more difficult to find than a single man in a single house, no matter how large and lovely Bard’s hall may be. And anyway, I’d hardly call two hours quick.”

It worked. Thorin nodded, and though Doron did not concede the point, he did not try to argue further. Instead, he frowned, looking very thoughtful.

“You are certain this is the man?” Bard asked, inspecting the body in the center of his floor. All of the reception’s guests pressed back toward the walls, but none of them looked truly alarmed to see a dead body. Indeed, almost everyone in the room had seen many during the Battle of Five Armies which had taken place less than a year before.

“I know his face,” Thorin said, spitting on the corpse. “He is the one who poisoned my Bilbo, may he fester and rot. A quick death was better than he deserved.”

Bard looked tremendously relieved, which was odd. A smart man like him ought to know that it wasn’t over yet. As soon as he spoke, however, Bilbo understood his feelings. “Look at the piercings in his ears. He is a river pirate. Such style was never in fashion among the people of Laketown, precisely because the river pirates favor it so. All of the members of my household are friends of mine from before we came to Dale. Though such a man as this might be welcome to settle in Dale and make a life for himself away from violence, I would know if one had entered my service. I tell you again, he must have stolen this livery.”

Thorin nodded regally, finally accepting this explanation now that he had proof and the corpse of the one who had actually tried to kill Bilbo. “If this is so, then you speak the truth when you say Dale did not participate in this plot.”

“Perhaps,” Doron said. “Yet I cannot help but think it is very convenient. A criminal such as this man must have been would likely hire his service out to any who could pay his price. Surely the coffers of Dale could afford to contract a man who could not be one of theirs, to deflect suspicion from their kind.”

“Oh yes,” Bilbo agreed innocently. “That is very wise, Doron. We must be sure to take into account that this fellow was almost certainly hired to kill me. Why, it might not even be another Man who did the hiring! The elves of Mirkwood likely do not want to see a wedding take place this evening, and if the mountain went into mourning it would not. You are very clever to remind us!”

Doron’s face went carefully blank, the way Thorin’s face was wont to do when he was hiding something. Bilbo did not truly need the confirmation of his suspicions, but it was nice to have it. Since the King Under the Mountain was not a fool, he looked at Bilbo instead of Doron. “Then you do not think you were poisoned for yourself?”