The Telmarine soldiers stirred and several dropped their hands to their swords as Edmund and his entourage, Glenstorm and Wimbleweather, stopped at the edge of the enemy camp. Setting down the tree sapling that represented his peaceful approach, Edmund raised his voice and declared, "I, Edmund the Just, come bearing a message from Peter the High King of Narnia to the Usurper Miraz!"
A soldier scurried away while the rest gradually returned to work, glancing at the Narnians from time to time. As they waited, Ed adjusted the sword at his hip and straightened his bright red tunic so that the golden lion was proudly displayed. Several minutes later, high above him, Wimbleweather focused on movement still too far ahead for Edmund to see. "What do you see?" he asked, keeping his voice low.
"A soldier is guiding a man here," the giant muttered. Well, to him it was a mutter; to Edmund, Glenstorm, and the Telmarines it was border-lining a shout.
Only moments later the pair Wimbleweather had reported arrived. The man being led by the soldier carried himself the way a seasoned warrior would, perfectly balanced, ready for anything, and confident. As he stopped before Edmund, Glenstorm shifted closer, not trusting the Telmarine, but Edmund held up a hand and Glenstorm settled down, but not without pawing the ground once in protest. Meeting the older man's gaze, he stated, "My name is Edmund, brother of the High King of Narnia. I have a message for the Usurper Miraz."
For a moment, the man did not reply and simply studied Ed, who returned the interest. The Telmarine's dark, almost black, hair was curly and he wore a full, but well maintained beard. Finally, the man nodded. "I am General Glozelle. This way."
After instructing Glenstorm and Wimbleweather to await his return, he followed General Glozelle to an open-sided pavilion. As Edmund stepped inside, General Glozelle moved to stand beside the entrance just behind his left shoulder. His entrance was greeted by several soft gasps. Having expected this reaction due to his age, Edmund ignored them and surveyed his surroundings out of the corner of his eye. Three tables had been placed in the beginnings of a square, thus effectively hemming the young king in, a tactic he had encountered on multiple occasions.
The Lords, all dressed for battle, were already seated, leaving the ornate chair directly across from Edmund unoccupied. One for grand entrances, he smirked inwardly. Peter would appreciate that someone else shared his dramatic flair; Ed himself did not share his brother's enthusiasm for fanfare. Whenever the High King and courtiers allowed, he'd arrive unannounced.
Chairs being shoved back hastily returned the Just King's attention to the situation at hand. A man with eyes and hair as dark as Edmund's own strode into the pavilion, barely glancing at Ed, who suppressed a smile as the older man reclined in the travel throne. The Usurper's ego was even more obvious than the pimple Susan had sported a week ago. Just as Caspian had described. Not in those words, of course, he hadn't seen the pimple, but the idea was the same.
"Your Majesty," General Glozelle bowed. "This boy bears a message from the Narnian army."
Usurper Miraz (Ed refused to call him anything else) flapped a hand in Edmund's direction. "Proceed," he ordered.
With the proper amount of flair, Edmund opened the scroll bearing the High King's challenge. Not for the first time he smiled at Peter's fancy letters. Later he'd have to tease the older boy about his girly handwriting, but for the time being…
"I, Peter, by the gift of Aslan, by election and by conquest, High King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel, and Emperor of the Lone Islands, in order to prevent the abominable effusion of blood, do hereby challenge the Usurper Miraz to single combat upon the field of battle. The fight shall be to the death, the reward total surrender."
Silence filled the pavilion as the lords and usurper processed the message. As Edmund began to reroll the parchment, Miraz leaned forward, head resting on folded hands. "Tell me, Prince Edmund…"
"King," Edmund interrupted, casually glancing at the dark man while securing the scroll closed.
There was a pause and Miraz sat back, head tilted in confusion before he managed, "P-pardon me?"
Ed made no attempt to mask his amusement, though he did tone it down. Correcting foreign dignitaries (a term that didn't fit Miraz even loosely) had always been fun. It allowed him to put his sarcasm and mischief to use. "It's King Edmund, actually. Just king, though; Peter's the High King," he added as an afterthought. A grin twitched at the corners of his mouth at the sight of the Telmarines struggling to understand how a boy of only fifteen years could be a king let alone the idea that there were two kings ruling at once. With just a hint of patronizing, Edmund shrugged, "I know; it's confusing."
Clearly trying to regain some dignity, the Usurper lounged in his throne. "Why would we risk such a proposal when our armies could wipe you out by nightfall?" he inquired, hands twitching to direct Edmund's attention to the camp surrounding them.
And that was why Edmund was here. There was more to it than being the High King's brother or even that sending Caspian would be incredibly foolish. Peter had chosen him for his quick tongue; it was his job to goad the Telmarine git into accepting the challenge.
Glancing around, meeting the gazes of several lords, Edmund asked, "Haven't you already underestimated our numbers?" His dark eyes glimmered. "I mean, only a week ago," he emphasized "week" and noted the uneasy fumbling with satisfaction. "Narnians were extinct." The last three words were pointed challengingly at Miraz.
"And so you shall be again," the Usurper hissed, rising to the bait.
"Well then you should have little to fear," Edmund stated quickly. Act like we're desperate for him to accept. Like we need him to accept. Make him arrogant…More than he already is, anyway.
With a loud laugh, Miraz shook his head slightly. "This is not a question of bravery."
That was all the invitation Ed needed. Pointing the scroll at Miraz, Edmund smirked, "So you're bravely refusing to fight a swordsman half your age?" His infliction made it a question; his tone made it a mocking statement.
Eyes burning with fury, the Usurper leaned forward. "I didn't say I refused," he growled.
Edmund opened his mouth to reply when one of the lords seated near the end of Miraz's table spoke. "You have our support, Your Majesty, whatever you decide."
For a brief moment, he feared that Miraz's ego might be soothed by the statement. It was a short lived concern, however, eased by the words of the man directly to the Usurper's right. "Sire." The man's oily voice set off warning bells in Edmund's mind and he was grateful that such a man had never sat in power at the Cair. "Our military advantage alone provides the perfect excuse to avoid…"
In an instant Miraz was on his feet, sword brandished, eyes boring into the man. "I'm not avoiding anything!" he snarled.
Something about the lord's words and gestures spoke of treachery, and Edmund watched the Telmarines interact with interest. Any information about tension within the enemy could prove useful.
The lord attempted to "explain" himself. "I was merely pointing out that my Lord is well within his rights to refuse."
"His Majesty would never refuse." At the sound of the deep voice behind him, Edmund angled himself towards the General. Miraz glanced at the man, outrage and shock warring for control on his features. Glozelle continued as if ignorant of the fury being directed towards him. "He relishes the chance to show the people the courage of their king."
Despite the fact that the man was his enemy, Edmund had to admire the skill with which he'd trapped the Usurper; Miraz would have to accept the challenge or lose face. However, what Ed found more interesting than the way it was done was why it was done. Seems that the Narnians aren't alone in their hatred of Miraz, he noted. While their reasoning was different and they'd likely cause trouble for him later, Ed appreciated the "help" in convincing Miraz. They were using him as much as he was using them; he did wish that he'd had a chance to taunt the git more, though. Giving a mental shrug, he reminded himself that it didn't matter who influenced Miraz so long as the man agreed to the challenge.
Several moments passed as Miraz visibly collected himself. Once his refined dignity was restored, he lowered his sword and focused on the Just King. "I accept your proposal," he stated. As Edmund moved to speak, the Usurper added, "On one condition." Edmund raised an eyebrow. "You shall be my opponent."
On the outside, Edmund appeared unfazed, but within he did a double-take. A change in opponent? Revenge for trapping him? Or does he think he stands a better chance facing me?
"Or do you need your brother's permission?" Miraz sneered.
"Your terms are acceptable," Edmund replied evenly. "I will serve as your opponent. We'll fight when the sun reaches the peak of the How."
Miraz's reasoning didn't matter, nor did it matter who fought the bloody git. This wasn't for pride or a chance to show off; this was about freeing Narnia from the tyrant who soiled the throne. Peter's going to throw a fit. As he offered the man a mock nod, Edmund couldn't resist adding, "I hope that you're brave enough to face a 'boy' in battle."
Veins throbbing in his forehead, Miraz raised his weapon once again, aiming the tip directly at Edmund's heart. "You had better hope your sword is sharper than your tongue," he threatened, voice quivering.
As he turned to exit the pavilion, Edmund allowed himself a smirk. If I were you, I'd hope it isn't. General Glozelle fell into step beside him as an escort to the edge of camp. The walk was short and silent, neither one having anything to say to the other. Once Edmund had informed Glenstorm and Wimbleweather that they were returning to the How, General Glozelle turned, and disappeared among his soldiers.
Halfway across the field between the two camps, Glenstorm glanced at the young king. "Your Majesty, is something concerning you?"
Edmund laughed, a tight, resigned sound. "I am not looking forward to delivering the news to my brother."
"Did the negotiations end badly?" the centaur frowned.
"No," Edmund reassured him. "But Miraz added a condition, and I doubt Peter will be pleased with the result."
Hey guys! Thanks so much for reading Chapter One of Change of Plans. This is my first attempt at fanfiction so I'm curious to know what you think. Please no flames, though; they kill creativity. I hope to have the story completely done before my Thanksgiving break so, with any luck, there will be regular updates. The more feedback the faster they go up ;).