His Sacrifice
Part One: Brave
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Disclaimer: I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia.
Prologue
"My kings," said the Healer, her gaze steady as she looked at us, "General Oreius will be lucky if he makes it through the night. I cannot say anything about his chances if he does with certainty."
"It was a brave but foolish thing he did," Edmund muttered, white-faced. "We will lose him because of it."
"He saved you though…" Lucy whispered, and wrapped her arms tightly around Edmund's middle, burying her face in his chest as she began to cry. She didn't want to lose Oreius. He was her friend.
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It did start out innocent enough.
The Kings and Queens, taking along their guards, as well as the overly protective, overly cautious Oreius, had gone out into the forest for the day, for a ride and some time to themselves.
The four of them had stopped for a while, for some dinner, and were talking softly amongst themselves, laughing at the expense of poor Edmund. Oreius paced around the edges of the clearing, his hand never leaving his sword.
Unfortunately, the caution was necessary. Only a few moments had passed before the first wave of enemies rushed from the woods.
Lucy screamed, leaping to her feet, spilling her drink all over her dress, although this did not seem to bother her.
Peter, Edmund, and their guards were on their feet and engaged in battle instantly.
The kings, however, were vastly outnumbered.
Lucy, young as she was, was no fool, and she could clearly see what the outcome of this struggle would be.
As it was, a Minotaur was rushing at Edmund's unprotected back as he fought, evidently unaware.
She screamed, "Edmund, look out for Aslan's sake!"
He tried to turn to see what she was talking about, but couldn't divert his attention from his current opponent as the Minotaur bore down.
Just as she thought he was lost, there was a flash of hooves and a fierce war cry. The Minotaur stumbled to the side in surprise when Oreius crashed into him, and released an angry roar.
The Minotaur swung his war hammer at Oreius's head.
Lucy heard the resulting thwack and a smashing sound over the sound of the battle, and then everything went dark as she fell to the ground in a dead faint.
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The battle raged on. Lucy's faint, contrary to what some might believe, did nothing to stop it.
Just then, the reinforcements arrived, for Susan had fled on her horse, Belle, to fetch help. She feared they would be too late upon their arrival, but nonetheless, had sent them.
And they arrived just in time to save the Narnians from all being killed. A pair of Tigers managed to lure the Minotaur away from Oreius's limp form, taunting the beast mercilessly as they dodged all his clumsy blows with ease.
Within minutes, the fight was over. The enemy lay dead around them.
Edmund doubled over, hands on his knees, panting. He was sweating profusely. "What…was…that?" he panted. "Who—who were they? I didn't recognize any of them."
"I would say Fell Beasts, King Edmund," said Philip. "After all, there was a Minotaur. Calormen hates Narnian creatures, and I would say we have a fairly good relationship at the moment with others."
Suddenly remembering Oreius, the young king straightened. "Oh…General Oreius."
Peter ran over to the fallen centaur. "Oreius!"
There was no movement other than the faint rise and fall of his chest—no sound other than his raspy, shallow breathing.
The young king knelt beside him to assess his injuries.
Right away, he knew that his back right leg was broken. It was at a terrifying angle and the minute he saw white sticking out, he looked away.
Oreius's stomach had been brutally torn into by the Minotaur. Nausea threatened, but he swallowed it back.
But when he saw the head wound, he did throw up.
The back of Oreius's head had been bashed open with the club, and he could see skull—cracked open. He swore he could see bits of brain matter.
"Get him… get him back to the castle. Or as close as you can," Peter said as his stomach rolled, dizzying him. "Please try not to jostle him too much. I want him in as little pain as he can be."
"How bad is it, Pete?" Edmund muttered, coming over to him with Philip.
"It's…. bad."
"Will he survive it?" asked Edmund, dark eyes wide.
"Honestly, I don't know. We'll just have to see what the healers say about it."
But Peter's eyes were bleak, and held little hope.
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Stay tuned for part 2.