[Bêthberry]

Market bustle was at its height. People were thronging the stalls and the square in active pursuit of trade and friendly chat. Animals squawked and donkeys brayed. Children hooted. From somewhere came a crash and then a tumble of wooden crates. The sky was filled with a brace of fluttering wings as ducks escaped, followed by a yell and a curse, which sped them faster away. Above this buzzing hum of voices could be heard the grating whine of Laevin's whetstone as he sharpened scissors and knives, axes and farm implements.

Into this din of commerce and play limped a rather bony, stooped figure lugging a small cart. The cart held myriad things: dilapidated objects, unused or no longer wanted items, broken goods--all things for which the people of Edoras could no longer imagine a use or need. The stooped figure was Ruthven, Edoras' junk lady, who single-handedly was responsible for much of the current trade in second hand items and found goods in Edoras. It was her particular skill that she had such a clever, inventive imagination. Many in Edoras shunned her for her lowly trade but few could resist her manner of finding new ways with old things. There were more than a few households which had bought from her the same item twice over, after having previously discarded it. It was a joke she never shared with anyone, but savoured it herself.

A beggar Ruthven first appeared but then appearances could be deceiving. Her clothes were indeed old, worn, frayed, but they were clean and even properly mended. Her thin grey hair had been plaited round her head that morning even if stray whisps and strands were now escaping the braided coils. It was true that she squinted with one eye but perhaps that was to occlude the sun's bright rays.

"Rags! Bottles! Oldenwares!" she cried, not trying to raise her voice above the din but directing it towards likely groups of people who then clustered around her cart at this sign of personal appeal. Thus it was that a scurrying little figure, trying to dodge between tall figures, plowed right into the two-wheeled cart, which, tipping over, spilled its contents out on top of him.

Pots clattered. Glasses clinked. Children's wooden blocks and rag dolls tumbled out. A salvaged bolt of blue cloth unrolled over the little fellow as he struggled to throw off a night shirt and frilly chemise which had fallen over his head.

"Eeeek," shreaked Madi, sniffing the musky red odour of the night shirt as he continued his efforts to disentangle himself. The crowd around the cart laughed and then moved on. Madi was at least grateful his face had remained hidden.

"Mind my goods there, you scamp," grumbled Ruthven. "It's bad enough you've lost me customers without ruining my goods into the bargain." She hastily shuffled over to rescue the blue fabric from being tromped on and carefully rewound the bolt. "This is my special find from Annawen's rejects."

The scent of the blue material stirred something in Madi's memory, but he could not say exactly what. Then he remembered and began to cry excitably.

"Berry's colour! Berry's colour! It's gone!" Madi had dropped the amber stone when the cart toppled over on him. He dove to the ground, pawing the packed earth for it, sniffing desperately and even tasting stones in hopes of retrieving the amber.

"No, no, no. No. No. This is not good. Berry won't be happy. Madi won't get some nice." A forelorn grimace spread over Madi's face, although few could tell, for his hood still covered much of his head.

"You're daft, you are," pronounced Ruthven. "Come on now, help me for all the trouble you've given me. I've got to take these toys to the White Horse where the Innkeeper wants some things for the children who play there."

"For Berry, for the Landlady? Toys for Berry?" Madi asked. "Madi will help. Maybe this will be good," Madi moaned.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was a comic sight to many, the stooped old woman and the small figure pulling the cart with the jerky motions of their unmatched gaits. Still, they finally reached The White Horse and Madi found himself knocking once again at the place he had decided was good. This time Madi was not so sure.

"Bethberry, I've got some exchanges for you," called out the junk lady. Madi bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling as the Innkeeper appeared at the door, looking as sleepy as she had the first time Madi had seen her.

"I'll take those pillow slips you promised in exchange for the toys," said Ruthven.

Bethberry nodded agreement as she walked around the cart to examine the toys. With surprise, she nearly stumbled over Madi, who had crouched down beside one wheel.

"Ruthven, is this another of your reclamation projects?" she asked smilingly.

"He cost me many customers at Market, so he's paying me back in help with pulling the cart."

"Madi, you do get around," exclaimed the Innkeeper, tickling him under the chin. "And what of your simple chore for me?" Just then she noticed the bolt of fabric in the cart.

"Well, this isn't the nicest looking bolt of blue satin I've ever seen, but it will do," she said to Madi, who finally recalled what the blue had reminded him of.

Ruthven was about to offer a price for the fabric but Madi began pulling secretively at her sleeve.

"Madi will help more," he spoke up, looking brightly into her face, "for Berry's gift." His lips were pursed as tightly together as his protruding teeth would allow, his wide eyes holding a keen, pleading, desperate look.

Bethberry, gathering the building blocks and dolls into her arms with the blue satin, noticed this exchange merely in passing.

"Well, Madi, you'll have to decide just how many of us you can handle. You might think I'm a soft touch but Ruthven here drives a shrewd bargain," she laughed.

"Soft touch," snorted Ruthven, "you've the canniest way of dealing with people, Innkeeper. There's iron beneath that soft touch."

Bethberry chuckled in reply and then turned to enter the Inn.

"You both look hot after the long walk you've had to bring this here. Come in for some iced tea or lemonade."

"You owe me, little man," whispered Ruthven to Madi as she followed Bethberry into the Horse. Madi frowned and pursed his lips as he stared after the two women. How would Madi get some nice now? he thought, as he trundled in after them.