The Woalds of Wordwood.

A tale of old Narnia. It is set in Narnia times about halfway in between LWW and PCaspian. There is a little plot deux in that I have children from contemporary times going their. I have tried to explain that they might have gone through a time portal as well, I'm not sure if I need to do that more often, I will come back to it. Anyway, please R and R thanks, Ham

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It was a provincial town in the South of England, today. A prosperous place if a bit dull at times. The day was sunny but perhaps a bit chilly in April, one of those days were in the sun it is hot, but with the cloud around you can feel the chill.

There was a very pleasant suburbian Inn called The George. This was sunday at 3:00 and it had some children running around and was reasonably busy. This Inn had a small playground area and some grass and verges with wooden benches. Under the watchful eye of their father and elderly Grandmother. Two boys were running around in the grass, throwing a football, sometimes even kicking it, and playing on the swings. 'Come on, pass me the ball, you'd had it ages!' called the younger brother, name of James.

'You're supposed to tackle me,' the older one replied.

'But Steve, you're so much bigger how am I supposed to?'

'I'm not sure, in the big leagues you'd just have to tackle me anyway!'

The unfairness of this annoyed James so he ran over and kicked his brother in the shin and then ran off with the ball. 'You mean like this?' he laughed. Steve chased after him, but James was pumped up and manage to avoid his brother. They both ran into the pub to their mother.

'Not so fast, you'll fall over,' she said wisely. One man sitting by himself gave them an unimpressed glance and looked quickly away hoping they would disappear. Which was I'm afraid a bit of a shame as the two boys were about to embark on something which he would definitely have been interested in.

Oh, James was 12 and his older brother 14. James was in his last year in Junior School, Stephen finishing his second at secondary. Both had brown-hair and grey-eyed. They had an easy-going brotherly relationship though Steve could be bossy and James could be a bit strange at times as you will see.

James was waiting for dinner but it was taking a while, he thought, and was getting a bit bored. And he had finished his orange drink. 'I'm bored!' said he.

'What do you want to do then?' asked his brother.

'Go outside and run around!' he suggested.

'We've been doing that all day,' sighed Steve which was true. 'Oh, very well, lets go!' he agreed as James looked disappointed. But James stopped for a while. He seemed to be looking at something in the pub's fence. Not running around laughing as he had been doing. 'Are you all right?' Steve asked.

James looked up with his young face looking puzzled and asked, 'Steve, are there mountains near?'

Steve laughed, 'You do come out with some things! There are no mountains near London.

James was wearing a light cream jacket, blue jeans a brown jumper and tee-shirt as it was still cool weather. James did think he could see something interesting. Despite his brother's assurances, he could see mountains. Tall-looking snow-peaked ones holding up the sky in the distance. He could also see woods, smoke coming out of a hut, a river and some fields he was sure wasn't there before.

Steve meanwhile didn't feel the chill as much so whilst he had blue jeans like his brother, settled for a light shirt and a thick green jumper on top. His hair was much more curly than James's could ever be.

He heard a roar from the pub. Someone must have scored in the football. How exciting. Mind, James was quite lucky, I think, to be allowed to go into pubs at his tender young age even with his parents. I was never able too. Still, times change.

James wandered around in this curious place and the sounds of the pub faded, unnoticed by him. But he did notice the weather growing decidedly colder. He zipped up his jacket firmly. He saw a strange flock of birds flying near to him and watching him. They looked familair but different somehow. They had a distinct green patch on their wing.

He thought he heard someone laugh, 'A stranger,' and one of the birds looked at him. But then in a great squall of cheeps and chirps the flock flew into the clouds. And then disappeared behind one of them in a line of brown flying objects.

'Those birds could almost talk,' he thought to himself.

'Don't suppose you have any identification, young mister,' said a voice. James looked around. But he didn't see anyone. Just a little dog that was in a clearing and wagging his tail looking cheerful. A rather scruffy little dog if one was to be honest. James put his hand down to pat it anyway.

'Nice doggie!' said he. But imagine James's surprise when the dog said,

'That's as maybe, but you didn't answer my question!'

James padded his pockets. 'Not sure what you mean really. I have a ten pound note in my pocket, does that count? By the way, did you actually speak or did I just imagine it? I've never heard a dog talk before!' I don't blame James for been a bit surprised. Though he would learn very quickly.

'Really? We're quite common I don't see what's so unusual about a dog talking, names Gaspode anyway, pleased to meet you,'

Though James was thinking that he had just fallen asleep. A bit like Alice in Alice in Wonderland. Still, he thought, if I am asleep I might as well go with it! 'James, er, likewise! I think I might be a bit lost, however, did you see a pub nearby, I'm quite hungry now, it's dinner-time.'

'Poor lad. Well you can share some of mine if you like. A nice bit of steak. Oh, I've eaten around half of it.' The idea of eating steak which some dog, even a talking dog, having eaten some of it didn't appeal. 'No, I've only slobbered a bit over it!' Well, the steak might actually have tasted nicer than some burgers one can buy, but I'm afraid we shall have to call James Mr. Picky as he refused the generous gesture!

'Still, it is odd seeing one of you lot wondering about on your own. Especially in the current political climate and with your odd lack of knowledge. Maybe... Hold on, there's a girl I recognize. A clever lass. She'll know what to make of this!' Gaspode stood on his toes and whistled quite loudly for a dog!

A female rider and horse galloped up to James. She motioned the horse to a halt in front of him. She was rather young, James noticed when she galloped to him. Although older and bigger than him. She had brown hair and was aged 15. But she was quite an adapt rider. And was riding bare-backed, James noticed. She was wearing leather trousers, boots and a yellow shirt in a similiar way that a man would, but she was riding actively. It is a bit difficult to do that in a dress at times I have been told and certainly was in Narnia! The horse looked at James with a knowing look it seemed to him.

'Oh, hello, what do you have for us now, Gaspode?'

'A boy by himself, a stranger, not aware of talking Narnian dogs. Do you know what this makes me think...'

'Yes, thank you Gaspode, Hello, I'm Taure, you are?

'James, hello Taure!'

James padded the horse. But as the brown/white creature nuzzled his head at James, imagine James astonishment when the horse spoke, saying 'And I'm Harold. How do you do?' James starred at the talking equaine mouth open in amazement.

'Now that was genuine. A stranger not aware of talking animals. I think we need to have a little chat young man!' said Harold quite pleasantly but with determination.

Now it took a while for what had happened to sink into James so I will tell you for times sake! The child had crossed by magic into the land of Narnia. Some of you might have heard of it and how one gets their. For anyone else, Narnia is a land one can get to only by magic one might say or unconventional methods. You can't get their by any device that man creates! Actually after a while James did get his head around this, quicker than many others would have done. He had read something like this in books he liked in fact.

But Narnia was having it's problems at this time. It had in recent times been settled by Men from a nearby country. This had caused problems with the native population of talking creatures. Though now, the men had lived there for hundreds of years so the humans considered Narnia their home as well now. However, much more recently a few had taken on an extreme view and action. Few in number but they did have access to unusual weapons. Staffs that could turn one to stone. A bit similair to one used by the White Witch centuries ago but of slightly lesser power I suppose but there were many of these staffs those men had access too..

'Anyway, this makes everyone very jumpy,' said Taure explaining the situation to James. 'There have been deaths caused by these staffs and some in retalition by others that have never liked us humans much. The whole situation is very tense with these men having access to these staffs that no-one else does. At least they did. Hopefully we will now know were they are thanks to that map!'

Harold the horse choked on a piece of straw he was muching. 'Ever the optimist aren't you, Taure? For a start, I have heard that that map is rather vague. Just gives some hints and we haven't located the wood properly yet. Also it hasn't been delivered to the capitol either. We don't know who to trust properly enough. And even if it is, I'm not sure it will totally defuse the situation. And then there is young James here!'

'Indeed yes, your prescence here livens things up a bit. Some have even been saying that Aslan will return. Now whenever he does things... happen. Sometimes violent and dramatic things. People want to make sure they are on the right side. Their side, naturally! If you are who say you are and not mad... though you don't look mad.'

'And it's an odd type of madness if he is. I think we can believe the boy!'

'Which makes our situation trickier in a way. Anyway, if he is then chances are that Aslan will follow, and possibly on your side. Which makes you an important symbol I am afraid and possibly more. You might well need looking after!' She looked down at the horse, 'I didn't know you were an expert on madness Harold!'

'I dabble! Why should Aslan follow anyway?'

'Because he has a habit of following people from the other place!'

James did hear this but I'm not sure this sunk yet. He was also busy enjoying his drink of something, a bit like lemonade but far fresher and he hadn't even had too much lemonade this day and age either! He said, 'Well, maybe but look I need to get back a bit. My folks will be worried. I might need my brother as well.' He looked around and thought he could see the inn again.

'Fine, but don't be long. If you need us again, ask for us at Towton!'

'That's a nearby village,' Harold explained. 'Just north down the river, you can't miss it!'

'Ok, back in a sec!' said James and dashed of around a rock back to the pub's garden. He hadn't travelled far in fact. He met his brother looking out at him sitting on a pub bench. 'Steve, Steve, Steve you will never guess what I have seen,' he cried and told Steve what had happened. Oh, just before he re-entered the inn, James noticed an inconsequential looking parchment on the grass. For some reason he stooped, picked it up, put it in his pocket and fogot about it for a while.

Steve was with his Grandma at this time. I'm afraid that Steve simply laughed at his brother. 'Some of the things you come out with. There are no mountains around here as I said. No talking dogs or horses. Mind, this is quite a good tale you told! Reminds me a bit of the fairy tales you told us recently, ma!' he said, turning to their Grandmother.

'Yes, indeed, though I wonder... one problem, though, in addition you have. If your story takes place in the world I was talking about, you seemed to have arrived at a time there before the time of the last adventures which I told you about Narnia!' answered she.

'Get out of that one, broth!' smirked Steve.

Then their Grandmother paused. She seemed to have noticed something. 'On the other hand, maybe there is a time factor. You might have passed through a time-portal as well. Heck, maybe we passed through a time-portal at some stage, it's possible. Or maybe the time-lines don't necessarilly run parellel,'

'Eh?' said the boys, looking at her in puzzlement as she seemed to have swallowed Stephen Hawking

'Are you saying you believe me?'

'Why not, it sounds a reasonably tale to me!'

'But look, theres only a pub here!' cried Steve exasperated. He took James's arm. 'See, only a bush. Oh, and a black cat. Quite a big, black cat actually. But it's just roads, houses and a pub. No, and I mean definetely, no snow-capped mountains,' ironically, as Steve said this, he and James walked into Narnia.

The only person that had seen them leave was there Grandmother Susan. Susan Richardson. She wondered if she should follow them. If she would be allowed to return to Narnia. But then she shook her head. Her time had passed. Yes, it might be dangerous for the boys, but then they were no younger than her when she had entered it. She thought she would leave them and gave a little wave.

'See Steve, mountains, hah!' said James pointing at them. Though he now noticed it was late in the evening. Several hours had passed here. James looked back but couldn't see the pub any more. It seemed to come and go! Then there was a howl. Another howl. A whole chorus of them that chilled the blood to the marrow. A pack of Narnian wolves had appeared!