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Javan was aware of nothing except an extreme dryness in his throat and lungs. And then, slowly, he felt the ground beneath him and a hand on his shoulder. Many loud voices filled the air around him and as his senses became more firm and his mind began to work again, he could make out words, and the sound of fire, and everything else in the chaotic scene.
Slowly, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He faced the stables and his eyes were fastened to the burning remains. Men were working on putting the last fires out. Matrim was kneeling beside him, no longer taking hand in the attempt to quench the flames – the job was nearly finished anyhow.
“Matrim,” Javan said, his voice hoarse. “Matrim, what happened? I don’t remember…I was letting the horses out. . .”
“Yes. And then you fainted, or something, and I carried you out.”
“It’s all gone, then…” Javan said. “All of it…all because…” He stopped and pressed his mouth close. He felt a hot sensation in his eyes, but no tears. He drew his knees up to his chin and clasped his arms about them. “What will he say?” thinking of Thornden. His stomach knotted itself. “What will the eorl say?”
Perhaps he could go and hide somewhere. Perhaps he could escape, until it had blown over. It would never blow over. But if they didn’t have to find out immediately. . .
And then suddenly they were there. Not only Thornden and Eodwine, but also Léof. They stopped just by him, looking down at him. Matrim stood up and took a step back, and Javan was left alone sitting on the earth.
“What happened?” Eodwine asked.
Javan looked up at him. Fear, worry, regret were all written clearly over his face. But also question – for he silently, furiously questioned himself what he could possibly say in answer. He could not lie – Thornden stood there, grimly looking at him. His own brother. He could not lie.
He stood up, his limbs trembling, and stood before the three of them. All of them he wanted nothing but to please. And now he had done something horrible, despicable. But it had been an accident.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he said, sharing a glance between Eodwine and Thornden.
“Sorry for what?” Thornden asked sharply. Javan didn’t reply at once. He looked down at the ground. “Answer it, Javan!”
“It was an accident!” Javan gasped out. “I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean to start the stables on fire, I swear it! It was a straw from trying to light a pipe. I dropped it and it caught another straw, and then it just went up!”
So that was it. Thornden stared at his brother without the slightest glint of friendliness or brotherliness in his eyes. He didn’t understand, but he almost felt he didn’t want to understand. Eodwine would certainly have more questions, surely. And Léof…he at least deserved an explanation. But Thornden, besides being Javan’s brother, had very little to do with it. So he remained silent.
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