Chapter 4. Flotsam and Jetsam

Airin broke from the watching crowd. Orphaned in the War of the Ring, taken in by Turambor's brother as a small child, having travelled from Gondor with the family to seek new life in the North and now married to Turambor's oldest son, she had followed Turambor from the greengrocer's stand and had watched the entire scene unfold.

Airin was of a practical bent, and though the tears stood in her eyes, she turned to shoo the onlookers away. 'Go on with you all!' she cried fiercely. 'There's nothing more to be seen! Go!'

'Daughter,' Turambor said, and she turned to him.

'Go,' she said. 'Take Seledrith and baby Robin out of the morning chill. I'll be along shortly.'

Seledrith stirred in her father's arms. 'Gwillam?' she murmured, and then she began to struggle wildly, so that her father was forced to stand her on her feet to keep from dropping her. 'Gwillam!'

'Seledrith,' Airin began, but catching sight of Robin with his namesake, Seledrith advanced on the youth and took the baby from him, hugging the infant tightly to herself as the tears poured down her cheeks. 'Gone,' she sobbed. 'All I have left...'

When she would have turned into the little shop, she was stopped by the young soldier left on guard. 'No entry,' he said. The apple of his throat bobbed as he swallowed nervously.

Turambor put a restraining arm about Seledrith's shoulders, even as she sputtered. 'Come home with me,' he said. 'Come home.'

As Turambor turned away, Airin looked about to make sure the crowd had properly dispersed, seized Robin's arm and marched up to the young guardsman. 'Rilion,' she said sternly.

'Airin,' he answered uncomfortably, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

'Forfeit to the Crown, is it? You'll send Robin and Seledrith away with just the clothes on their back, not even a blanket for the baby?'

'Airin,' the guardsman said again, pleading under his breath. 'Move along, now.'

She put her hands on her hips and stared him down. She had minded him when they were both much younger, in Minas Tirith, for a penny a day while his mother washed and scrubbed to keep home and family together. She'd never taken any nonsense from him before he entered the King's service, and she was not about to start now. 'You'll send them away with empty hands, them as never did any wrong?' She tapped her foot impatiently, showing no signs of moving along.

'Airin, they'll be sending workmen to nail boards over the doors and windows,' Rilion said. 'You know that I cannot...'

'The cooking fire is still going, and there are candles burning,' Denny said, stepping into the fray. 'Should the "premises" catch fire and take the rest of the row with it, fat lot of good it'll do for the Crown.'

'The workmen will...' Rilion said stubbornly.

'You don't leave a candle burning,' Denny pressed. 'Why, a fire could be starting, even as we speak...'

Rilion rolled his eyes; he would have thrown up his hands, were it not unsoldierly to do so. 'Very well!' he hissed, looking about to see if anyone was heeding them. No, the other townsfolk had scattered to the business of the market, some in sympathy not wanting the family to suffer stares and speculation on top of everything else, and others simply practical--there was nothing to be done but to make the best of things, and life must go on regardless. In any event, none was watching them. 'Go on, put out the flames, candle and hearth, and...' He took a deep breath and plunged into the depths, lowering his voice as he did so. 'One bag each, mind you, one each, for Seledrith and Robin to take away...'

Airin was not one to let the grass grow under her feet. Seizing Robin by the arm, she dragged the youth through the door. 'Quickly, gather what you can of your things,' she said.

Denny followed. 'We don't have much time,' he said. 'We must be out before the workmen arrive or Rilion will be in a world of trouble.'

'I hope he...' Airin said grimly, and bit off the rest of the sentiment. Rilion was only following orders, after all. Or not following them, as it were, in this moment. Now she gave Robin a push. 'Go!' she said. 'We haven't all day!'

Suiting word to action, she hurried up the narrow steps to the bedroom on the right-hand side of the chimney that rose from the hearth, pleasantly warmed by the heat rising from the cooking fire. Dumping a pillow from its case, she began to stuff Seledrith's and baby Robin's clothing into the makeshift bag.

Robin was close behind her, turning into his smaller room on the left and following Airin's example. But a few bare moments, to rescue what remained of his life. He crammed the bag full, scarcely taking note of what he picked up, his mind a-whirl even as he tried not to think of what might be happening elsewhere at that moment... but as he turned to survey the room, there was a sharp snapping sound, as of a trapdoor falling open...

He sank down on the bed, gasping out his brother's name, and his father's.

It was only a moment or so later that Airin found him there. 'Done?' she said. 'We must get out, Robin, before the workmen come...'

Robin looked up, to see that he'd knocked over the roughly-carved wooden horse his brother had made him, to celebrate the first birthday he'd had in their new home, ten years ago now. Tears came to his eyes, but he shook them away, grabbed up the keepsake, shoved it into his bag, and followed Airin down the stairs.

Denny met them, hefting the kettle that he'd taken from the hearth, its handle wrapped in cloth. As they emerged, he said, 'Do you suppose the Crown wants this?'

'Take it and go!' Rilion said nervously, casting another glance about them. 'Go!'

They went.