Chapter 3. Shipwreck

Denny heard Robin's shout of warning when he was halfway across the marketplace; he broke into a run but was fully winded when he reached the little shop, having to lean against the wall as he panted for breath. Merileth was right, he thought irrelevantly to himself. He needed more exercise, short walks to start, growing into longer. His wind, even for a man with one good lung, was distressingly short.

'You all right?' Huor, one of the guardsmen, said at his side.

Denny nodded, but his breath came shorter as he heard old Gwill confess to breaking the King's edict regarding the Shire, and suddenly realised why Gwillam was trying to shield the others.

'Denny, sit down,' Huor said, taking his arm. 'We'll send for...'

'You're breaking formation,' Denny gasped, trying to pull away. He had to get in there, past the three hobbits who blocked the doorway.

'Denny,' Huor said, exasperated, his grip tightening.

Denny's head was swimming, and he bent over to fight the rising dizziness. One of the hobbits, distracted from the scene taking place inside the shop, murmured something to the other two and stepped aside. 'Denny,' he said, putting a work-worn hand on the man's arm.

'Mayor Sam,' Denny gasped, but the hobbit interrupted.

'Save your breath,' he said, and to Huor, 'Help me sit him down.' They seated Denny against the wall and Sam commenced to fan him, in an attempt to blow more air in the gasping man's direction.

Turambor the greengrocer came hurrying up. He was father to three daughters, Seledrith being one, and Denny's wife Merilith another, and the third was married to the armourer at the Citadel. His sons were at this moment driving wains into the city from outlying farms, laden with produce for the greengrocer's stand, and Turambor was setting up for the day when he saw the guardsmen stop outside the shop his daughter managed for her father in law. Leaving his wife to finish the setting up, he made his way through the gathering crowd of onlookers.

'What's all this?' he barked. 'Denethor, what is happening?'

Denny merely shook his head. Even if he knew exactly what was what, he hadn't yet the breath to tell it.

'It's an arrest,' Huor said. 'No business of yours, Turambor.'

'My daughter's shop!' the greengrocer bristled. 'Of course it's my...'

A cry of alarm from within stopped him, and the two hobbits standing in the doorway lunged into the shop. Turambor followed, to find his daughter lying in a guardsman's arms, two guardsmen restraining her husband, and another - Haleth, a good friend of his - holding fast to young Robin, while old Gwill stood alone, night-clad. 'Seledrith!' cried the greengrocer, falling to his knees at his daughter's side. She held the baby tightly, even in her swoon. 'What have you done to her?' he said, even as he moved past the hovering hobbits to take her from the guardsman.

'She fainted,' the guardsman said apologetically, and stood to his feet to move to old Gwill's side.

'So may I at least put on my underdrawers, before you hang me up?' the old man said wryly.

'Go with him, Rilion,' the sergeant snapped. 'Let him dress.'

Rilion nodded and took the old man's elbow, following him out of the shop into the private quarters behind.

'Hang him up?' Turambor said. 'What is the meaning of this?'

'It's an arrest,' the sergeant said. 'I'm afraid, old friend, that your daughter is married to a law-breaker.'

'Law-breaker!' Turambor gasped, but he recovered himself, gathering Seledrith a little closer, and sitting a little straighter on the floor he said, 'If they cannot manage to pay the fine, I'll make up the difference.'

'It's worse than that,' the sergeant said, and Turambor's eyes narrowed as he considered the words.

'Worse...,' he prompted, his heart dropping to his boots. Hang me up, old Gwill had said.

'I'm sorry,' the sergeant said, and then he assumed his official face once more. 'Form up!' he rapped out. One of Gwillam's captors quickly and efficiently bound the prisoner's hands behind him, and then took his arm again, and the two guardsmen began to pull Gwillam towards the door.

White-faced, Gwillam held back, staring at Seledrith in her father's arms, and the pride of his life, his tiny son. 'I'm sorry,' he gasped in unconscious echo of the sergeant. 'Sorry...'

'Come along with you,' one of his escort said, and he was gone, young Robin half-sobbing his name as he was pulled through the door.

Denny was recovering his breath as Gwillam emerged, and catching sight of him Gwillam cried, 'Take care of...'

'No talking,' one of the escort said, pulling roughly at his arm, but they couldn't silence his eyes, which stared into Denny's, desperation in their look.

'I will,' Denny said, and Huor gave him a little shake.

'You know better, Denny,' he said. 'Don't talk to him.'

Denny climbed to his feet, using the wall as leverage, and shook off the guardsman's helping hand. 'I am well,' he said tightly, 'and you've been ordered to "form up".'

Huor dropped his hand from Denny's arm and nodded, wiping his face of expression, though sympathy stood in his eyes.

As Haleth pulled the youth out of the shop, Pippin stopped him. 'He was just a boy at the time,' the hobbit insisted. 'You must release him.'

'We are under orders, sir,' the sergeant said, but the hobbit would not be put off.

'This does not concern him,' he said, emphasising every word, 'and if you don't want to find yourself facing a flogging you will heed my words.'

Denny stood still with shock, hearing Pippin threaten a flogging. It seemed the world had turned on its head, and everything had been shaken to the foundations. But the hobbit continued to stare down the sergeant, and of their own volition Haleth's hands released the youth, and Robin staggered away. Denny caught him before he could fall.

And then old Gwill emerged, with remarkable dignity, considering that he had dressed with haste and his hands were bound behind him. He had a nod for Denny. He swallowed hard and tears came to his eyes as he gave Robin a long look, and then he deliberately turned away, his shoulders slumping a moment before he set them straight.

'Form up!' the sergeant cried again, and the soldiers moved into formation, the prisoners in their midst and the three hobbits moving to follow, Pippin grim, Merry's countenance dark, and Sam's expression grieved.

'These premises are forfeit to the Crown,' the sergeant announced to the murmuring crowd. 'Contents subject to auction, at a date to be announced.'

Turambor emerged then, bearing Seledrith in his arms, and Rilion at his side with the baby. Young Robin straightened in Denny's grasp and stepped forward, holding out demanding arms for his namesake. 'I'll take him,' he said.

'Bring him along with me,' the greengrocer said in an overloud voice, to make sure that Gwillam heard. 'He and his mother will not go homeless. We have a place for them, and yourself as well, lad.'

'I'll take Robin, if I may,' Denny said, his voice also raised. 'He'll always have a home with us, so long as he needs one.'

He saw Gwillam raise his drooping head and set his shoulders, though his brother in law did not try to turn to look back; he saw the old man look over at his older son with a nod - Courage! - and then the sergeant ordered the march, and the silent crowd parted to make way for the guardsmen, who marched away, leaving desolation and destruction in their wake.