Chapter 19. What the Dark Hours Held

Airin jerked awake, startled. She had fallen asleep at the table with her head on her arms, waiting for her husband and family to return from the gallows. Her first thought was for the baby, but no, he was sleeping peacefully in the box by the hearth, well-padded with blankets, warm and cosy. There had been no thought to find another cradle, with all the demands of the day and Seledrith clinging tight to the little one until the ringing of the sunset bells. Ah, well, a cradle was just a rocking box, when all was said and done.

Eliniel entered the kitchen then. Greengrocer's wife, mother to her own large brood, she had been mother to Airin since Airin's own mother died of shock and grief: She'd found her husband's head, branded with an image of the dreadful Eye, rolling on the streets of Minas Tirith as she was tending to wounded guardsmen during the siege. Airin had been only a small child at the time, hidden in the fastness of the Houses of Healing. They ought to have been sent out of the city with the wains, but that her mother, a healer, stayed, and kept her child close, not wanting to risk losing her to the raiders that might fall upon the fleeing wains. Surely there was greater safety behind the massive walls of Minas Tirith! It had been difficult to imagine that the city could burn, the Gate could be broken... but only the coming of the Rohirrim, and then the King himself, had saved them.

Airin had a faint memory of her mother, tall and slim, quiet and thoughtful except when her father was teasing. Her father, she remembered, had been tall, dark-haired, with a booming laugh... That was all she remembered of them, now but shadows dim in memory, that, and the sound of her parents singing together, the harmonies twining together in subtle beauty.

The greengrocer and his wife became her parents after that dreadful night of tumult, fire and smoke. They came to the great house where the orphans were gathered to await new families, and they took Airin away with them. The greengrocer was a cricket of a man, shorter and somewhat swarthier than the men of Minas Tirith, originally from Lossarnach, and his wife Eliniel was short and plump, though taller than her husband, a warm and motherly sort who'd joke about her lap "well-padded, that's right, dearie, sit here and shell the beans with me whilst I tell you a story…"

And when Airin married Turambor and Eliniel's eldest son, she became daughter-in-law as well as daughter by choosing.

'What is it?' Airin whispered, rubbing sleep from her eyes. 'Are they come?'

But instead of pouring the water, keeping hot over the fire, into the waiting basins, that Gwill and Gwillam's bodies might be washed before shrouding, Eliniel took down a basket from its hook on the rafters, one of the large carry-baskets suitable for a baby, and setting this on the table she went to pick up her smallest grandson, little Robin, holding the sleeping babe close for a moment before settling him, blankets and all, in the basket.

'What is it?' Airin repeated.

'An oil-cloth, daughter? It's begun to rain, and we don't want our little darling to take a chill...'

The catch in Eliniel's breath as she spoke would have been enough, but as Airin turned up the lamp she saw the tears on Eliniel's face.

'Where are you taking him? Where is Seledrith? What... what has happened?' Airin said, even as she turned to take a folded length of the waterproof cloth from the shelf and shook it out of its folds. She laid it over the basket and turned to Eliniel, expecting answers, but found herself enveloped instead in a fierce embrace.

'What has happened?' she whispered.

'O Airin,' Eliniel half-sobbed, and then she straightened and wiped her face with her apron. 'It is terrible...'

'Indeed,' Airin said, but her mother-in-law shook her head.

'Worse, even, than it was,' Eliniel said.

'Worse?' Airin said. She couldn't imagine, and then she gasped, and grabbed at Eliniel's arm. 'They took Robin? Did they take Robin? He should not have gone to the gallows...!'

'It's Gwillam,' Eliniel said, controlling her sobs. 'Somehow... the hanging went badly, and they cut him down still living, when the sunset bells rang.'

'Still living...' Airin whispered, in wonder and horror. And then her fingers tightened their hold, and she said, 'What will happen to him now?'

'The last time I heard of such a thing happening, they took the poor wretch to the dungeons for the night and then back to the gallows with the rising of the sun,' Eliniel said, her breaths shuddering in and out.

'O my poor sister,' Airin whispered, closing her eyes in grief.

'At least they've allowed Seledrith to sit by Gwillam's side through the night,' Eliniel said. 'A guardsman has come, to bring baby Robin to her.'

'You're not going to give Robin to...' Airin protested.

'Of course I am not!' Eliniel said, drawing herself up in indignation. 'I will carry the baby myself, thank you very much!' She deflated then, and said, 'and I will stay with Seledrith until all is over.' She looked up to meet Airin's eyes. 'You'll have to run the stand yourself in the morning. I... I am not sure just when we'll return. It is the usual custom to leave them on the gallows until the sunset bells, and I do not think I'll be able to pull Seledrith away from him again...'

'My poor sister,' Airin repeated in a whisper.

Eliniel huskily attempted a brisk tone. 'And so we might not return until after sunset bells tomorrow,' she said. 'Turambor will soon send the boys to their beds, I'm sure, for they will have to arise in only a few hours to hitch up the wains and fetch the day's produce.'

'Where is Father now?' Airin said.

'Waiting with Seledrith,' Eliniel said. 'And Robin is in Denny's care. He won't let anything happen to the lad, if it's in his power to prevent it.'

Robin's name is on the death warrant, Airin thought resentfully. If the Steward finds that his orders have been contravened, there may be no second chance for the lad... She didn't want to distress her mother-in-law by saying the words aloud, but meeting the older woman's gaze she saw grief and worry, and so she impulsively hugged Eliniel. 'We'll manage the shop,' she said. 'Have no worries on that account.'

Eliniel nodded and pulled away, and taking her cloak from its hook she quickly muffled herself against the night's rain. She took up the basket, but hesitated at the door. 'Don't let Merileth help with the selling,' she warned. 'She shouldn't be on her feet, so close to her time, and lifting...'

'Of course not!' Airin said. 'She can mind the little ones in the back of the shop just as easily.' She flew to the doorway to bestow a kiss for Eliniel's cheek, and to lift the oiled cloth with a soft blessing for the sleeping baby. 'Grace go with you, Mother.'

'And with you, my love,' Eliniel murmured, and then she was gone.