Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: Virtute et Armis... By Courage and By Arms, he served Aslan and the Four... Is it how he would die as well?

A/N: This is part of my A Light in the Darkness universe, so this story is best understood after you have read my other stories. There's some spoilers contained in this story, so I strongly recommend you at least read the main story arc before reading this story, but you can give it a whirl on your own if you so choose.

Virtute et Armis: One

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It was not supposed to happen this way. It was supposed to be a simple hunting trip intended to provide some distraction for the royal family and their closest friends and a few obligatory guards. That was all, no battle was intended nor was there any expectation of trouble, not when Narnia was in the midst of her Golden Age and the battle in early Lenisgale had sent a clear reminder to her neighbors that Narnia was said to have the finest army in the world for a reason. Now, at the end of Quickening, a relatively small hunting trip had been planned in the heart of Narnia far from any of her borders and it had been believed safe from enemies. It was a mistake...a foolish belief that demanded a costly price...the price of blood.

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27 Quickening 1006

"Hurry up, Kat! Or, do you intend to let our brothers win the bet after all?"

I looked up from fiddling with the saddle girth and grinned at the sight of an impatiently bouncing Lucy while Susan looked down at the both of us from her perch on Crystal's back. "Peter and Edmund cannot even start the bet until everyone is ready. And, I am not going to be ready until I finish adjusting Saffron's saddle girth. Besides, they're going to lose anyway, so we might as well allow them to continue under the delusion they have a chance of winning for a little longer."

Susan and Lucy laughed then Lucy ran to mount her own mare, Snowflake, while I turned back to Saffron. The red roan mare had only served as my mount for a few months and we had only recently become comfortable enough with each other that I was ready to take her on a longer trip, but she had one annoying habit that made saddling her an exercise in patience. She did not like the girth at all and was always holding her breath so it took me twice as long to properly saddle Saffron than any other horse I had ever ridden, Nahar found it amusing but I had informed the big black Stallion who served as my war mount that his opinion didn't count in the matter. Fortunately, I had a few tricks of my own that would beat Saffron at her own game.

It took about five more minutes before I finally finished adjusting the saddle correctly and was able to mount up to the delight of the Four, who were just waiting for me to be ready before we headed off to complete a bet. Saffron sidestepped a little as the others in our party approached, but I quickly calmed her. "Are you certain you should have brought her, Katerina Alambiel? She is very skittish this morn."

I twisted slightly in the saddle and rolled my eyes, "Kentauri, I already told you that she'll be fine. Besides, she needs some exposure to this type of activity otherwise she'll be essentially useless as a mount."

Oreius smirked at me as he watched Saffron roll her eyes a little at the Leopard Ptah who backed quickly out of range of her hooves (she truly did not care for the big Cats and we had discovered that fact the hard way). "Are you certain of that?"

I patted her on the neck before I glared at Oreius, "Once we get going, she will be fine. You just watch. Now, come on, Kentauri, or can you simply not keep up anymore?"

Oreius snorted by way of reply and trotted ahead to speak with Peter and Edmund. I knew the instant he found out about our friendly bet because he glanced over his shoulder at me and gave me the look that meant he thought I had completely lost my mind...again. I laughed softly but resisted the urge to taunt him as I urged Saffron into a swift trot, after all, when we returned from the hunt I still had to train with the Kentauri and an irritated Oreius meant I would have very long and tiring training sessions for at least a week. Out of a habit born over the years, I brushed the fingers of my left hand underneath my tunic and was rewarded with the cool feel of the metal pommels of my twin sai knives as they rested snugly in the harness strapped to my back. It might have been a hunting trip, but you never knew when Murphy might come after a person with that dratted law of his, especially since I tended to be a frequent victim of his law. Satisfied that I had been almost as paranoid as Oreius on a good day, I refocused on seeing how fast I could fulfill the conditions of the bet, which was the challenge to see how many non-talking deer we could catch up to and then brush our hand against some part of them (preferably not the antlers or the hooves).

We called it a hunting trip, but in reality, the Four and I just wanted to get away from court life for a few days (naturally the Kings and I had decided we needed to do something vaguely similar to hunting activity and came up with our bet). We decided that since our closest friends included some of Narnia's foremost warriors, we had the perfect excuse to leave with a much smaller group of extra guards and attendants than was the norm for when the Four left the Cair. Of course, convincing Oreius the most overprotective and rather paranoid being in Narnia of this wasn't easy even after all these years...or maybe it was because of all the moments of Murphy that occurred over the course of those years. It was left to Peter, Lucy, and myself to persuade the stubborn Kentauri of why our planned outing didn't need half the army as escort (did I mention Oreius was very overprotective of the lot of us?), and after quite a bit of wheedling, begging, and an outright threat of a coup with catapults (I personally thought my threat to bring in catapults was what sealed it), Oreius finally agreed to a compromise. So, we set out to hunt (play) in the woods surrounding Aslan's How with an escort of twenty-five guards in addition to the three friends we had invited, but once we set up camp, we went 'hunting' with only our friends and eleven guards.

It was the end of Quickening and the weather was perfect for what we had planned. I gave thanks to Aslan that the end of this year had been fairly quiet compared to what had happened last Yule with only one battle the month before to remind an alliance of Ogres and Trolls that we Narnians were more than capable of routing them even with only half of our army available. Glancing around, I spotted Peter and Edmund racing off to my left while Susan and Lucy had split off to the right. I was technically part of the royal guard and officially a knight, so I had to make a quick decision as to which half of the Four I should accompany (let me think...which two get into the most trouble?). The big Cats with us all chased after Susan and Lucy, Saffron tossed her head as Sarti passed a little too close for comfort, and I decided it would defeat the purpose of the bet if I didn't go in the same direction as my "competitors" anyway. Veering to the left, I encouraged Saffron to increase her pace to a full gallop and cut into the space between the brothers (they hated it when I did that), "Come on, you two! Let's see if you can keep from falling into the mud this time!"

Edmund laughed while Peter gave an indignant shout, "That only happened because you decided it would be fun to push me out of the saddle, Kat!" This was true and the result had been hilarious. I heard the two Kings conferring behind me then they both came galloping in an attempt to catch up with me and I cut in front of Oreius as I wheeled Saffron around to dash away from them...and whatever they had decided to do to me for revenge. It was time for some fun...oh, and I needed to keep an eye out for non-talking deer as well.

We had been meandering through the woods for well over three hours when I rode up to a stream and found Peter and Edmund already there giving their mounts a respite (though Philip would protest heartily if I ever said that aloud). I cast a critical eye over them, but for once they seemed to have emerged from this game unscathed (yes, there was a reason Oreius had given me that look earlier in the day). I grinned at them, "You look halfway clean this time. Did you even manage to get close to a deer?"

They both made a face at me, then Edmund mumbled, "Well, at least, we saw them and we did get close to them."

I nodded, "So, how many did you touch?"

I struggled not to laugh as Peter and Edmund exchanged looks then Peter sighed, "Between the two of us, we managed to touch two bucks. And, how many did you touch this time, Kat? Fifty?"

I laughed as I shook my head, "Don't be ridiculous. I only touched eighteen this time, but the herd I came across was smaller than the last one." I was about to comment further but then Saffron gave a crow hop and I actually had to fight her for control as she tried to bolt. I forced her to trot in a circle in hopes of calming the mare, which worked slowly though she still tossed her head nervously. I looked at the guards who had emerged from the trees when Saffron acted up, "Do you sense anything amiss?"

Vardan Windwolf approached cautiously and Saffron still tried to rear, prompting Oreius to grab her bridle and pull her head down while I stroked the quivering muscles in her neck. The Wolf waited until we had calmed Saffron as much as we could then he growled out, "There has been nothing unusual or of note in the area for the last five hours. Shall I scout further?"

Oreius and I looked at the Kings then I turned back to Vardan with our decision, "Yes, better cautious than careless." What I didn't say but what we were all thinking was that we had already been far too careless for people who should and did know better. Vardan left with another of his Wolves and we started to head back to where we had made camp as our playful mood had vanished. Only moments later, the woods around us fell silent and then the silence was shattered by a horn...Susan's horn... There were times when I and others (especially the Four) had the worst luck in the world when everything that could possibly go wrong did (I called them Moments of Murphy), and unfortunately, a Moment of Murphy occurred that afternoon. Maybe two minutes after we heard the horn, a new and much closer sound alerted us to the fact that we had another problem to deal with before we could aid Susan and Lucy.

I had just enough time to share a rueful look with Oreius before a large group of Fell Beasts broke through the cover of the trees and charged us. Saffron let out a horrific scream of terror and reared as a Werewolf and two Ghouls leaped out in front of her. I couldn't control her and fight at the same time, especially since I had left Chrysaor hanging on the wall of the armory (a last minute decision I was definitely regretting), so I slipped my feet free of the stirrups and leaped to the ground, drawing my knives as Saffron fled from the battle. I easily slipped into the warrior's center and threw myself into the fight.

Ghouls, Boggles, Werewolves, and two Hags fell to my blades as I fought my way to the Kings. I leaped on the back of a Werewolf and ended the miserable cur's life with a well-placed blow to his spinal cord before he could attack Edmund. Silverstone, the younger of Stonebrook and Tuulea's sons, fought his way over to us as three Ogres joined the battle. Edmund swore and I grimaced as we watched the Ogres clear a path through their own side with the obvious intent of reaching the Kings. Silverstone looked at us and then he silently handed me one of his swords before we charged back into the fray in an attempt to reach Peter before the Ogres could separate us. The Ogres were dealing the most damage to their own side at the moment as I noticed one crush a Hag underfoot while the other two swept Ghouls and Boggles aside with their clubs, but they were closing on where our soldiers were fighting and soon our own people would join the lists of the Ogres' victims.

Silverstone charged in front of Edmund and I with another Centaur and they harried the closest Ogre away from the path we were using to reach Peter. I nodded to Edmund and Philip galloped ahead of me while I attacked some Ghouls and Werewolves who tried to get in my way (it never ended well for evil beings who tried to stop me from reaching my people). The second Ogre had delayed Edmund and I leapt on the foul creature's back and buried Silverstone's sword in his neck (thank Aslan I had almost six full years of training that included how to take down an Ogre). The Ogre reached over his shoulder and managed to grab me and he threw me to the ground before he finally fell over dead. Edmund leaped off Philip and ran to my side as I gasped for the air that had been forced from my lungs, but I waved off his concern as I slowly sat up. I tried to tell him to keep going, but Edmund purposefully ignored my gestures, as I half-knew he would, and he focused instead on cutting down any Fell Beasts who attempted to take advantage of my vulnerable state. I finally caught my breath enough to regain my feet, though I had to ignore the throbbing pain in my side that told me I had a couple of bruised ribs thanks to that blasted Ogre.

Edmund gave me a concerned look and I opened my mouth to reassure him I was fine when we heard the last Ogre let out a roar of triumph. We spun in time to see a Centaur guard's lifeless body slam into the ground and then the cold chill of horror wrapped itself around my heart as I watched the Ogre sweep his spiked club towards Peter who was favoring his sword arm. I heard Edmund scream his brother's name beside me and he barely took the time to allow me to pull myself up onto Philip's back before galloping in a desperate attempt to reach Peter before the club. We were never going to make it in time. Dear Aslan, we weren't going to make it in time.

A fierce war cry sounded from behind Peter and a second later Oreius raced into the space between the High King and the Ogre. His claymore flashed and knocked the club aside then he lunged forward with another war cry and the force of his attack made the Ogre stumble backward. Philip increased his pace and I thought we would make it in time to help then I felt my heart stop as the Ogre recovered and Oreius was forced to break off his attack in order to dodge a blow from that club. Edmund hissed a rather filthy curse (one of his bad habits) as he realized what I already knew: Oreius was using himself as bait and it was working as he slowly drew the Ogre away from the wounded Peter. I lost sight of Oreius as he drew the Ogre around a copse of trees, but as Philip slid to a halt next to Peter, we heard the Ogre give a death scream and the vise around my heart finally started to loosen.

The last remaining Fell Beasts were being routed as I carefully knelt beside Peter who was far paler than I liked him and I quickly ran my hands over him to see what exactly he had broken this time. It seemed Oreius had interfered just in time as Peter had not only broken his sword arm but also his collarbone and, to top it all off, his right shoulder was dislocated. Edmund braced his brother while I popped his shoulder back into its socket (there was a reason Alithia had insisted I learn more than basic field medicine) then splinted his arm before using one of the bandages Silverstone offered to tie his arm securely against his chest. Silverstone and Edmund lifted Peter onto Philip's back then Edmund clambered up behind his brother and they headed for the camp with all of the remaining guards save Silverstone.

I frowned as I realized who I hadn't seen for some time, which was unusual because typically he would be on top of things. I looked at Silverstone who had just retrieved his sword from the neck of the second Ogre and was cleaning it, "Silverstone, have you seen Oreius?" I knew as soon as he looked at me that he hadn't and I hadn't seen him since he drew off the Ogre... I froze as a sense of dread grabbed hold of me then I took off running for the copse of trees where I had last seen him ignoring the pain from my ribs and Silverstone's shout to wait as I prayed I was wrong.

I sprinted around the trees and my temper flared at the sight of two Werewolves stalking Oreius who lay on the ground a little ways from the Ogre's corpse. I was not about to allow them to kill him. I unsheathed my knives and ran forward with a war cry of my own. I leaped over Oreius and kicked one Werewolf in the throat while I raked my knives across the other Werewolf's outstretched arm. Silverstone joined the fray and killed the Werewolf I had kicked while I buried both of my knives in the other Werewolf's ribs. The fell creature dropped at my feet and I turned to see Oreius was still on the ground.

I ran to him and dropped to my knees as I tried to figure out how badly Oreius had been wounded. His left foreleg was definitely broken and his neck was bleeding, but a quick inspection confirmed that his carotid artery hadn't been hit (thank Aslan or he would have been dead before I ever reached him). His breathing was off though and I carefully pressed a hand against his horse ribs. I barely pressed down but it was enough to confirm that at least three of his ribs were broken. When I moved my inspection to Oreius' upper body and I placed my hand just below his ribs only to jerk back to see it covered in blood. Silverstone gasped, and I knew that as the son of Tuulea who had once held the position of the foremost healer among the Centaurs and Narnia he realized how badly Oreius had been wounded.

I pinned Silverstone with a look that brooked no argument, "Go find the Queens, tell Lucy we need her cordial, and then bring back others so we can carry him to the camp." If I had had to pull rank on him, I would have, but, Lion bless him, Silverstone just handed me what was left of the bandages and then ran. I pulled off my outer tunic and wadded it up before sliding it under Oreius' head, glancing down I started slightly as I met Oreius' gaze.

He rasped a question as I used one of my knives to cut away his tunic (for once Oreius had not been wearing armor...I really wish he had been), "The Kings?"

Typical Kentauri, always concerned about everyone but himself. I struggled to keep my voice normal as I continued slicing through his tunic (there was a lot more blood than I ever wanted to see from any patient). "They are both fine, Peter was the worst with a broken arm and dislocated shoulder. I sent them back to the camp."

He nodded then gave me a questioning look, "Queen Lucy's cordial?"

I finally peeled the tunic back and barely kept from gasping in horror as I observed the depth and length of the wound, which jaggedly ran from just below his ribs to the point where man turned to horse. Instead, I forced myself to answer him as I pressed bandages against the gash in an attempt to staunch the blood flow. "As strong as you are, Kentauri, it would be a pain to drag you back to the Cair like this so I think the cordial will solve matters perfectly." My hands were trembling by the time I finished tying off the bandages and I moved to another wound a few inches above his heart. I was lying through my teeth about why I had ordered the cordial to be brought and we both knew it as he hissed in pain when I pressed against the wound.

Oreius tensed as I brushed against his ribs and I scowled at him as I wrapped the broken ribs as tightly as I dared and braced them with the straps of my knife harness, then he just had to point out the one thing I had been avoiding thinking about, "Did not the Valiant Queen leave her cordial at the Cair?"

I didn't hesitate in my reply, "Alithia will be able to keep you well until the cordial can be fetched besides we're only a day out, Ardon or Silverstone will be able to run that distance and back easily. Or, one of the Gryphons will go."

I had thought I was able to keep my emotions out of my voice, but I must not have been as successful as I had hoped or Oreius simply knew me too well as he suddenly grabbed my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Katerina Alambiel, you know that I-"

I jerked my hand away and covered his mouth as I hissed, "Don't you dare say it, Oreius! Don't even think it! You are not going to die today, I won't let you." I had to cut myself off in order to go back to the wound to his side and press down hard because the blood had soaked completely through the bandages at the top of the wound where it was deepest. I needed to slow the bleeding otherwise he would bleed to death before there was even a chance to retrieve the cordial. Oreius groaned and closed his eyes as I pressed down on his wound and I silently asked Oreius to forgive me while at the same time I begged Aslan not to take him.

The bleeding finally started to slow and I reached for the roll of bandages, but my fingers closed on naught but air. I let out an exasperated groan as I realized I had already used the last of the ones Silverstone had given me. I wasn't going to let Oreius bleed to death for lack of bandages so I jerked my soft cotton under tunic over my head and started cutting it into long strips. I started praying harder as I watched the cream-colored strips darken with blood as I laid them over the wound. Oreius frowned when he opened his eyes again and saw me sitting there in only my cropped undershirt, "It's almost dark. You will freeze."

I scoffed, "It's the end of Quickening not the end of Stormfall, so I will be fine. You should be focused on saving your strength not scolding." He caught a glimpse of my left side as I leaned to check his other wound and I flinched when he abruptly pressed his hand against my side, "Kentauri!"

His frown deepened to a scowl as he ground out, "You are wounded yourself."

Oh that overprotective Centaur! I shook my head as he let his hand drop, "Hard landing and some bruised ribs, nothing serious, so there's no need to fuss." I paused then muttered, "You know, I think I actually prefer it when these situations are reversed because then you are able to carry me to the healers if necessary."

He smirked at that then he grabbed my hand again, "Katerina Alambiel, listen to me. No arguing this time, just listen. If I don't last until the cordial arrives..." He broke off into a coughing fit and I felt icy fear tighten its grip on my heart when I saw flecks of blood appear at the corner of his mouth and I knew he had internal injuries. The Ogre had done more than just graze Oreius with his club and I grabbed the flask of water Silverstone had left with me and held it to Oreius' lips.

I had to keep him awake and I had to keep him from resigning himself to his fate, so I did what I always did when I wanted to distract Oreius from something: I argued. "You will last more than long enough for that cordial to get here. I won't listen to you plan your own death, Kentauri, I refuse. You have made too many promises to back out now. Remember you promised the Four, your tribe...me. You promised and you can hardly keep those promises if you don't stick around."

"Kateri-"

I cut him off mid-word as I shook my head, "No. Oreius, I forbid you from dying today, understand you me? You are stronger than this I know you are. If I can survive sorcerers, a witch, mercenaries, a Hag, and more Werewolves than you can shake a stick at, then you can survive one measly Ogre." It was foolish but at that moment, it felt like if I spoke those obligations aloud, he would have to survive. He smirked at my words but didn't try to say anything as I kept babbling, "And, you promised you would be my shield and I have yet to release you from that promise so you must stick around because you know the chaos that would follow me, not to mention the Kings, if you left us on our own."

I finally ran out of words and Oreius grabbed my hand once again, "You have spoken, and I have listened. Now, I ask you listen to me. Katerina Alambiel, the tribe will survive and flourish under the guidance of the elders and Ardon is my successor as chieftain. The Royals...they will also survive because they will have you to help them do so." He broke off for a moment as a look of pain appeared on his face and then vanished, but what he said next shocked me into forgetting to ask him if there had been a particular increase in the pain from a select area. "I want you to take my claymore and when you find someone worthy give it to them." His claymore was a family heirloom passed from father to son since the beginning of Narnia and, in Centaur culture, a warrior with no children would give his family sword to his mate, his sweetheart, or the one person he trusted most in this life. Neither one of us had married yet (though we both were receiving pressure to do so) nor did we have sweethearts, but I didn't know he held my friendship in such high regard until that moment... I hadn't realized he trusted me almost or as much as I trusted him...the person I trusted most in all the worlds.

The wind picked up and I shivered slightly before I finally nodded. I didn't realize I had started to cry until Oreius reached up and brushed the tears away then pushed the hair out of my face (my chignon was basically non-existent...getting slung by the Ogre had apparently been the last straw for my hairstyle). Out of everyone in Narnia, he was closest to me and it felt like my heart was breaking in two as I prayed for Aslan to leave Oreius here. I cupped his face as I whispered brokenly, "Please, Oreius, we need you here. I need you here. What am I supposed to do if I don't have you around to keep me sane? Please, please, win this fight too."

The wind blew my hair over my face again and Oreius brushed the white and gold strands out of my face in silence. He left his hand in my hair as he softly spoke, "Alambiel, you are far more sane than you like for people to realize. And, you will choose someone else to be your shield in my place. You are strong enough to survive...I know you are. We'll see each other again, I promise." That promise would never be broken, but I didn't want it to come into effect so soon...I did not want to lose my closest friend and definitely not in such a manner.

He was giving in to what he saw as inevitable and I didn't like it one bit. "You promised to be my shield for as long as I needed you, Oreius son of Cadfael. I have not released you from that promise, therefore you must fight to stay here with me and with everyone else who loves you. Or, I swear I will not only cause a coup with as many catapults as I can get my hands on but I will do something to your armory that will make the flour incident look like a picnic in comparison."

Oreius didn't respond like I had hoped he would and then I felt his hand slide free of my hair. My heart stopped a moment when I said his name and he still did not respond. Twilight was already falling across the land and I wished I could have summoned some Dryads for aid, but we happened to be in the one area of the woods where none of the Trees made their home. I could have cursed Murphy. Instead, I settled for searching frantically for a sign that the Kentauri had simply lapsed into unconsciousness and not something more permanent. If asked I would have sworn that my heart didn't start beating again until I finally felt his faint breath against my cheek as I listened for the sound of his breathing though that was physically impossible. I wrapped my hand around his wrist...his pulse was fast and thready and almost to the point of being nigh imperceptible at times.

The others were taking too long to get here and I vaguely wondered what that meant for our other wounded and if someone had already set out to fetch the cordial. I was watching Oreius slip away from this life and it tore me apart inside that I couldn't do anything else to help him. All I could do was sit, wait, and pray with every fiber of my being that Aslan would grant a miracle. Tears ran down my face as I finally acknowledged that Oreius was dying and even Alithia's skill would be hard-pressed to keep him on this side of death long enough for the cordial to arrive. Aslan had granted miracles before, and one in particular kept coming to mind as I kept a hand over Oreius' heart to monitor him. If He had granted that, why would He not grant this one?

I know the desires of your heart, Dear One, including the ones you have yet to recognize. Why those words flitted through my memory I couldn't say, but I paid them little heed as I started praying. "Aslan, Great Lion, I beseech Thee to show mercy to Thy servant. By courage and by arms, he has served Thee and Thy appointed rulers faithfully. He has protected Thy chosen ones from the time he was first able to wield a blade. I beseech Thee, Great Lion, breathe strength into Oreius and let him remain here. We need him, I need him, for many years to come. Please, Aslan, preserve him until the cordial can be brought to revive him to full strength. Please, Aslan, we can't lose him yet. Please, let him stay." I ran out of words to express the fear, the grief, and the desperate hope I still clung to that Oreius might somehow come out of this alive and well. Nevertheless, I knew Aslan could hear my soundless prayers just as easily as He heard my spoken ones.

Oreius was barely clinging to life as I checked his wounds again, but without fresh bandages, I could nothing as I stared at the bloodstains, which, praise Aslan, had finally stopped growing. I was still crying but now the tears had started to turn into mourning. I was still stubbornly clinging to the hope that he would live but even I knew the odds were no longer in his favor. I kept praying for a miracle as I leaned down and kissed Oreius on the cheek then whispered in his ear, "Please, Kentauri, fight for me. I don't want to lose you yet."

Silverstone, Ardon, and two other Centaur guards came galloping up just after that and I quickly swiped my tears away while they carefully moved Oreius onto a litter. Ardon looked at me but I didn't say anything just waved for them to go ahead. They would take Oreius to camp where Alithia was waiting, but I feared by the time I reached camp he would already be gone unless by some miracle the cordial was waiting there for him. Ptah found me as I trailed far behind the Centaurs and quietly whispered that one of the Gryphons had flown to Cair Paravel to fetch Lucy's cordial before Silverstone had even delivered the news of my orders. I nodded silently but didn't reply instead I just prayed harder for the miracle we needed. When Ptah and I finally reached the camp, I saw the Four were huddled around a fire in front of the tent that seemed to have been commandeered into a healing wing. Lucy seemed to be telling them something but I didn't stop to ask questions instead I walked into the tent dreading what I would find. Out of the thirty-three members of our party, five were killed during the joint attack and two more died that night. The rest of our numbers with serious wounds all needed the cordial or they too would perish. We needed a miracle and only the light of day would tell us how many we would need to mourn by the next sunset. Aslan, hear our plea, breathe strength into our wounded and grant speed to the one who carries the cordial!

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A/N: Please Read and Review! Okay, for those of you who read the original version, it's still worth reading this three-shot as I have adjusted details and added in some new things as well. For those of you who have never read this story before...please set the pitchforks back down. I haven't killed Oreius...yet. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.